She's touching him on the common room couch as if it's normal, as if it's her bloody right and it's all a little bit too much to swallow so Sirius turns away. They've been at it for thirty-seven minutes and if Sirius was a bit less of a masochist and perhaps had a bit less of that Black pride he would have left the room, but as it is he's glued to his position in the overstuffed arm chair. It faces the fire but it also faces the couch and Sirius has to concentrate greatly on the licking flames in order to ignore the licking tongue that comes from Evans' mouth and caresses James' neck as if she had been doing it forever.
Two months is not forever. It's not even close, Sirius thinks bitterly. Forever is two years of stolen kisses and hidden smiles. Forever is falling into open arms and a warm bed. Forever is closing your eyes and knowing when you wake he will be beside you still. Except now, a traitorous voice reminds him. Except now.
He swallows thickly and wishes it didn't hurt so much. James is still his brother, his very best friend. He knew from the beginning that forever was a dream, a myth made for boys and girls who fall in love and have babies, not pureblood misfits who fall terribly and deeply in love with their best mate. He knew and yet he fell into it quite willingly. He knew he would suffer and yet part of him knows every single moment was worth this pain. Every single kiss and meaningful glance shared was well worth having his heart ripped out and stomped upon continually.
He needs to get over this he realizes as he watches James' hand creep up Evans' leg from the corner of his eye. James has been waiting forever (that word again) for Evans to come around. All Sirius needs is something he has been waiting forever for. The only problem is that he's wasted all his forevers wanting James.
He raises his fourth finger to his mouth and gnaws on the already bitten nail. The longing in him is so great that it takes all of his will to stay seated on the chair. He will not move, he will not leave. If he leaves, he has lost. Of course, he has lost anyway. He was lost the moment James came to him with averted eyes and awkward gestures, trying to explain to Sirius that things were over. Oh sure, they were still best friends but things had to stop. And things have stopped. He gives up gnawing on his nail and gnaws instead on his bottom lip, thinking of that last night. He cringes to remember his pleading voice, his eyes that threatened to spill over with childish tears as he begged James for one last time. James had agreed silently, moving towards Sirius with a fluency born out of two years of endless trysts. Sirius remembers how his tears had held off until James entered him at which point they spilled forward onto flushed cheeks. Ashamed, he had tried to wipe them away with one hand, the other clutching the sheets until James took his hand and kissed the tears away instead. Sirius had closed his eyes, letting James' lips touch him, each kiss apologetic and bittersweet, until he came moments after James.
Watching James with her now, that moment seems so far away. Forever ago. His gaze moves towards them and like some cruel petrification charm he cannot look away. He watches James hand tangle in her red hair and strains to hear his gasp as they come up for air. There is a split second when James looks past her and their gazes suddenly meet. Startled and a little embarrassed, Sirius gets up from the chair and slips out through the portrait. He knows he has lost but he's lost anyway and forever is a long time away.