There's a few gold Galleons rattling in Sirius's pocket. Harry steps down from the triple-decker bus first, using his hands to brace a swaying, flush-faced Sirius, grimacing outwardly as the driver motions warningly for them to leave NOW.
His godfather stumbles at Harry's pace, leaning onto him as Harry tightly clasps onto Sirius's waist, looking around with mild fascination.
"Another pub!" Sirius crows out happily.
An exasperated Harry ignores him, veering them in another direction down the puddle-soaked road.
Drinking with Sirius in the muggle areas of town had seemed initially like a brilliant and fun idea — up until the brawling with other heavily drunk lads, with Sirius verbally cussing and throwing fists.
Once they're on the upstairs level of 12 Grimmauld Place, managing to not disturb the portrait of Sirius's deceased mother at the front entrance, Harry eases a floppy-limbed Sirius onto a cot, yanking off Sirius's boots and regretting life.
The rasp-quality of Sirius's voice draws Harry's attention. He gazes up, bewildered and silent as Sirius addresses him as James again, lifting a hand and cradling Harry's newly shaven cheek.
"Mate, hnn… m'srry…" he breathes out, stroking his thumbpad over the line of Harry's jaw. A glint of mischievous light in his dark, unfocused eyes. Sirius remains lying down, giving a hiccup-chuckle, running his palm tenderly over the side of Harry's face. "Can't take me anywhere…"
He can't describe the ache building, right in the middle of his ribcage, when Sirius pulls Harry down, fumbling his lips to the corner of Harry's chill-chapped mouth, tasting his godfather's spit.
A surge of new regret accompanies it, when Harry doesn't stop him, doesn't stop kissing him.
HP isn't mine. When I was really young, I had an inkling to ship them hardcore. Now I'm a little more neutral but hey if you love them,,,, you go for it! I made this for anybody out there who enjoys a good rarepair/angsty rarepair! Hope you enjoyed this and any comments/thoughts are deeply appreciated!