[...aspects?...]

[whynot]

Christ. My Potterish joints are creaking arthritically, Di. HP ain't my thang no more, but it's your birthday (or, it was) and, y'know, <3. May this year be what you want it to be.

This short little thing is for you, set after Sirius ran away, when he's shacked up with the Potters. I don't know if it's fluffy or squicky, so I'll put up a warning for both.

WARNING: NOBODY DIES AND SOMEONE TAKES A SHIT.


Smells Like Victory
Harry Potter. James/Sirius. PG13.
I don't know, I think the warning makes an adequate summary.

It would have been called a neat bedroom except that it really kind of wasn't. The clothes were all over the place, thrown off last night in a whirlwind of wantsexnow-ness. A pair of trousers were draped over the lampshade. Pillows had fallen off the bed and the covers were bunched. At first glance you'd say the bed was empty, but you'd be wrong. An arm dangled off the edge of the bed, sticking out from beneath the covers.

It moved.

The fingers twitched, as if allergic to the morning light. Fingers closed into a fist, then spread palm-wide, and James grabbed the bed covers and threw them off his body. He lay there, eyes closed, everything beyond his eyelids rose-colored. It wasn't that James wasn't a morning person. He just wasn't a 'waking up' sort of person. He sat up in bed with the air of someone experiencing severe back pains, and rubbed the sleep crust out of his eyes.

He was wearing the white button-down shirt of his school uniform (now missing some buttons as a result of last night's enthusiasm) and nothing else, if one discounted the red and yellow Gryffindor tie he wore like a bandanna around his forehead. He rolled off the bed and sauntered out the bedroom to the bathroom, scratching his arse and blearily aiming grateful thoughts at Aunt June's allergies for being so severe and persistent. His parents were out for the weekend caring for her again. Sirius and James had the house all to themselves.

James opens the bathroom door and sees Sirius on the toilet, taking a shit.

James closes the door.

James opens the bathroom door and sees Sirius on the toilet, taking a shit.

"Good morning," said Sirius.

"Hi," said James. He paused, trying to feel out the situation. All previous persons on whom he had walked in on in the bathroom usually screamed and threw soap bars at him. This was a new development, and it threw him. James said, "I have to brush my teeth."

"Sink's right there," said Sirius, pointing at it.

James didn't move.

"What?"

"It sort of smells in here."

"Eureka," Sirius smiled wryly. "I'm not exactly weeding the roses, am I?"

"Why didn't you lock the door?"

"We're living together now. We ought to be open with each other."

"Does the door have to be, too?" James rubbed his face, trying to wake himself up. "You have a nice arse and I like it very much, but it should be clarified that I only like... certain aspects of it. And not certain other... aspects."

"Aspects?"

"Maybe I don't need to see this." James added as an afterthought: "Or smell it."

Sirius shrugged. "There's another bathroom down the corridor if you want, but I'm already in the middle of my shit, Potter. Make your choice."

James stared at him, took a few steps inside the bathroom, and closed the door. He headed for the sink, paused, went back to the door, and opened it again, then returned to the sink.

Toothbrush. Toothpaste. He had both in his hands now, and all he had to do was exit the bathroom and make it to the one at the end of the hall before he started pissing all over the place. James caught his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were still a little crusty, there was a pimple on the side of his nose, and the tie around the head thing looked kind of stupid.

"Were you ever this prudish at school, James?" said Sirius, then there was a plopping sound, and a splash.

He went to Sirius, held Sirius's face in his hands so they were eye to eye, and kissed him. Not a romantic kiss with tongue and sighs. Just a... just a nice one. A firm press of lips against lips.

"So what was that for?" Sirius asked.

James shrugged. "I just never kissed anyone taking a shit before."

"How was it?"

"'S alright."

Sirius smirked. James ruffled Sirius's hair, saying, "Have fun."

"Right. You too, then."

James smiled, walked out of the bathroom, and closed the door.


[end.]


A/N: The title would like to express its apologies to Apocalypse Now. I would like to express:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, adiaadore!