the truth about us

Don't you find it annoying when you try to make a oneshot, well, short, and it keeps growing beyond your control? I know I do. Luckily for me, this time it wasn't so bad, instead of the 1000~

words I planned, I wrote 4000~.

So, yeah, my second James /Lily fic, couldn't help myself, this one sentence popped up in my head and I just couldn't stop the rest coming (I'll let you guess which sentence I'm talking about).

As I'm sure no one needs a reason to write pointless smut, I tried, didn't quite succeed, as there is somewhat of a plot around here.

Anyway, enjoy!

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“the truth about us”

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“So… This was my first time.”

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Of all possible scenarios running through her head, each one more appalling than the last, this is not how Lily envisioned (rarely, very rarely, mind you) getting together with James.

And just in case there is any doubt—she means James Potter.

Again, and she really needs to make this clear, Lily doesn't think of it—of getting together with James—often; these thoughts are so rare in fact, that they only come intruding when she's feeling particularly vulnerable and he's being especially… not idiotic. And by vulnerable, of course, she means not in denial.

As it is, every time she does think about it, it always involves some kind of cute gesture on his part and then an impromptu date and lastly, an innocent kiss.

She never, evereverever, would've thought that a study session could turn into snogging and culminate with him falling onto her bed.

~

It all starts innocent enough (considering, you know, that nothing stays innocent when James Bloody Potter is around). They are the only ones in the Library, what with it being Hogsmeade weekend and all that. Lily having decided to forgo the trip Hogsmeade in lieu of a much needed revision for her mid-terms, namely Transfiguration, is not an uncommon sight, if there were someone to watch. James, on the other hand, is an uncommon occurrence, but he'd managed to land himself in detention with Slughorn and such detention has been translated to a ban to three Hogsmeade outings in a row, which makes it all the worse as Lily's sure he and the Marauders had some big pranks planned for today.

Oh, well.

Given their current inability, forced and by choice, to get out of the Castle and the fact that all remaining students are First and Second Years, both stay relatively close to each other in order to feel less lonely. Which really translates to James following her around like a lost puppy, all the while complaining about Slughorn's unjust punishment until she snaps and tells him to shut it. It works for the most part, until they reach the Library and she pulls out her Transfiguration book and her notes of the lessons.

That's when he offers his help, and she is reminded of the fact that, while she is good on this subject, James is a prodigy (McGonagall's words, not hers), so she accepts.

“Here. This is what you're doing wrong, Lily.” He stops her attempts to cast the spell again and proceeds to enlighten her with his knowledge (his words, not hers). “By all means, you're doing everything right, except the one thing that actually matters when it comes to Transfiguration. Vision, Lily, you have to envision the change, imagine the object. You need to picture the precise image of what you want the end result to be—down to the very last detail. And once you have done that, you need to keep that clear picture in your head while you cast the spell.”

She huffs, rolls her eyes, and sends him a withering glare. “I know that. Clear image, clear intent.”

“Well, obviously, you know that, but you're not doing it.”

Lily growls frustrated and turns her back on him, grabbing her book and reading the instructions one more time before raising her hand to do the spell, all ready to ignore the bloody annoyance sitting next to her. Of course, it's all in vain, as her spell fails once more and James makes tutting noises at her; she's forces to acknowledge that whenever he knows someone is trying to ignore him (mainly, her), he kicks up the annoyance to a whole different level.

Oh, she's so tempted to slap him right now.

“Lily,” he calls softly, gently prying her textbook from her tight grasp and hesitating only briefly before grabbing her shoulders and turning her to face him. “Lily. You know magic is all about intent. Forget the wand-waving and incantations, at its very core, will-power is all you need to perform magic. But first of all, it requires control.”

And she can feel hers cracking, as her frowns deepens and the dreaded sting behind her eyes makes an appearance.

“Don't let your frustration get the better of you, because if you can't focus properly and go head first into it second-guessing yourself the spell it's never going to work. And, hey, it's okay if it's not working right away! NEWTs level Transfiguration is hard, you're not turning a match into a needle anymore—you're trying to turn a chair into a full-grown mammal!”

The reference to their first class, all those years ago, when the two of them were the only ones to complete the assignment makes her smile slightly and, surprisingly, it also helps her reign in her urge to cry.

“How do you know so much about magic?”

Dumb question, he is a pureblood after all, but James simply smiles and answers, regrettably, she sees, withdrawing his hands from her shoulders. “My family… is very old. One of the few to found the council that now is called the Wizengamot. Older than even that, actually. There are many ancient tomes in our vault and in the Library of my home, that tell of times when wizard didn't even have wands, that explain the very simple nature of spell-casting.”

All through his explanation, there is a far-away look on his face, and she knows he's probably thinking of his deceased family. Oh, she knows his parents are still alive, but the whole entity known as the Potters consisted now of a three-person family: a seventeen-years-old wizard and his elderly parents. Lily aches to reach out and hug him, inexplicably so, but she never gets the chance.

Snapping out of his reverie, James grins at her. “So, that's why. As you know, I'm an only child, never had any real close friends growing up, so I spend a lot time reading books a wasn't supposed to even know existed.”

Lily tries to suppress her own grin but fail, so settles for slapping his arm. “Prat.”

“Now, let's try this again, eh?”

She nods and stands, James following her example to stand next to her if a step or two behind.

He squeezes her shoulders briefly before dropping his hands. “Alright, then. Relax, Lily. Focus. Close your eyes, and focus on that clear picture you want. Latch onto it, memorize the details…”

For once, Lily does as James suggests, allowing herself to relax, vaguely feeling his warm breath hitting the side of her neck, the gentle squeeze of a pair of hands gripping her waist. She focuses on her objective.

“Now… do the spell, will your magic to do as you wish…”

She feels the rush of power, growing within her and shooting through her arm and out of her wand. Next to her ear, she hears James chuckle softly, and there's a light pressure on her shoulder.

“Well done, Miss Evans. Outstanding.”

With a start, she opens her eyes and yelp. Where once stood the wooden table she claimed as her spot, now sits a powerful-looking lion, golden mane swishing with every more of its head and tail curling and uncurling next to its hind-legs. The lion yawns and continues to look at her, expectant. She knows that a simple charm and the animal would go anything she commanded, but it isn't necessary now, she's accomplished what she wanted already.

A simple flick of her wand and the table is back.

James chuckles again, and she finally acknowledges the fact that his chin is resting on her shoulder and he has his hands firmly gripping her waist. She should be offended of his advances; after all, she doesn't like him like that. But she feels so happy and warm and giddy (and she's honest enough to admit most of it has nothing to do with her successful spell-casting).

So, Lily turns a little, grabs the side of his head with one of her hands and kisses him.

~

She doesn't even know how they end up in her dorm.

She'd kissed him. She had kissed James Potter. But she'd stopped, hadn't she? But then he'd kissed her, more insistently, not content with a simple brushing of lips. What happened next?

She remembers feeling his hands turning her around, to face him properly. Remembers feeling his gentle push, leading back until she was pressed against the side of a bookshelf, hiding away from the clear view Madam Pince had of them. Oh, she most definitely remembers his tongue prying her lips open and her enthusiastic response.

Oh, my God. I responded to him.

However, for the life of her, Lily cannot remember how they have come to stumble upon her bed.

The sudden fall breaks their kiss, makes them pause. They look into each other's eyes and wait, for either one to react. James is partially lying on top of her, legs tangled together, as he's propped up on his elbow. His lips as red from their snogging and his eyes glazed over with desire—his desire for her. She should push him, off her and off her bed, should scold him for turning an innocent peck on the lips into the snogging that followed. Should, should, should. But doesn't. Instead, Lily wraps her arms around his shoulders and brings him in for another kiss, just as passionate and desperate at the previous ones.

It's not much later that their hands begin to wander, first to safe places, then not so safe, until they are under clothes and pulling the garments away.

Maybe, probably, Lily will try to rationalize this later, say it's simply a product of teenage lust—but when James licks one nipple tentatively and she arches into his mouth and her legs part to give better access to his wandering hand, she knows.

This is more than an act between hormonal teens.

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When it's over she fully expects the usual to happen (well, the usual she'd read about this), expects James to doze off, or maybe leave.

But certainly not this.

“What?” Her voice, surely her very expression, shows incredulity as she stares at him.

James blushes, pointedly avoiding her gaze as he focuses on the canopy of her bed. “You heard…”

Her mind tries to wrap around that confession, truly it tries, but she finds it hard to believe. This is James Potter! Gryffindor's Casanova! Surely, this is a joke, he can't—of course, he can't be! Lily sits up slowly, her eyes still wide in surprise, still fixated on the sated yet embarrassed looking black-haired boy lying next to her. She forgets to grasps the sheets, to preserve her modesty, but a little voice in the back of her head whisper it would be pointless, as he's already seeing everything—touched everything.

Her movements catch his attention, and he risks a glance at her, surprising her yet again when his cheek tint a bright red as his hazel eyes drop to her chest before quickly moving up to her face. Then, he frowns. “You don't have to look so shocked, Lily.”

She ignores him. “But how?”

James sits up as well, obviously doing his utmost best to keep his gaze from dropping, succeeding on the most part but he is still a boy and his self-control is not that good. “How what?”

“How can you still be—how could you still be a virgin?”

His cheeks redden again, his frown turning into a scowl. “Again, enough with the shock, Lily.”

“Well, can you blame me?”

And really can he blame her? Of course not! She, along with everyone else in the school, had been witness to the show that is James Potter, having a different girl on his arm every other week. A show, because even when he was publicly dating, he insisted on “confessing” his undying love for her. She'd been witness, she'd heard the rumours, had seen the girls after the break-ups.

So, no, no one can blame her for reacting like this.

“James… it's… it's you!”

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asks indignantly.

“I mean, come on! It's you. You're a veritable Casanova! You have girls hanging off you every day, a different fancy every other week. The rumours about what you do in the broom closets abound! How many times did I have to chase you off one during Fifth Year, and last year? The only reason you haven't been in one this year is because McGonagall warned you off when she made you Head Boy!”

His frowns again, his face twisting in something resembling regret, but his eyes speak of a muted desperation for her to believe him. “Why would I lie, Lily?”

That makes her stop, stop and think. Why would he lie? He has no reason, it's not like she expected him to be inexperienced, actually thought it an advantage because that way it be less painful for her. Which now that she thinks about it, it kind of makes sense. James had been so nervous and awkward about it, hesitating about pretty much everything, that she had chalked it up to her own lack of knowledge in the act. She'd thought it was because she was a virgin and because he actually cared about her that had made the whole thing so… well.

Tilting her head to the side, Lily looks at him in mild confusion and disbelieve. “Really…?” When he doesn't answer, and just looks away in obvious embarrassment, she plops back against her pillows. “Wow.”

He turns around to scowl at her, biting out his protest rather forcefully. “Would you stop that? It really isn't that shocking.”

Their eyes meet for a second, before his drops to her chest again and remains there. Lily is suddenly very aware of their nude state, and feels herself blushing in response to his intense stare as a familiar warm settles in the pit of her abdomen. Slowly, trying to looks stern but failing in the end, she gathers the sheets and covers herself again.

James blushes and turns away.

“Cut me some slack, you. How was I supposed to know you were still a virgin four minutes ago?”

“…IT WAS MORE THAN FOUR MINUTES, LILY.”

The way he hides his face from her, but she knows from his ears that his whole face if alight, is incredibly cute. An odd word, considering they're both naked and mare minutes ago were having sex. But it is. Really cute. And adorable. And Lily can't help but giggle, and has to hasten to grab his arm, sheets once more forgotten, when he tries to leave.

She's not trying to embarrass him, honest, but for once she's seeing a side of James Potter she never thought it even existed, and she likes it. It's moments like this when she can be absolutely honest about her feelings for James, when he's being sweet and cute and adorably vulnerable, such a contrast from his usual arrogant, flirty and insufferable self. Moments when she wants to succumb to her urges to hug him and kiss him and let herself be happy by simply being in his arms.

Here's a moment now, she's not going to let him run away.

“James!” She pulls back, her giggling partly in control, and is pleased to see him admit defeat as he falls back next to her. And while she's generally opposed to the idea of touching this boy, that's only when he's being an idiot, unlike now, so she drapes herself over his chest, skin on skin, and smiles happily. “Alright?”

He blushes, slowly placing his arms around her bare shoulders, as if testing the waters. When he's reassured she's not going to push him away, he seems to remember to be embarrassed and avoids her gaze. “…It was more than four minutes.”

Lily chuckles and raises on her elbows, placing her hands on his face to force him to look at her. “It's fine, James, really. Honest,” she says, conveying her sincerity with what she hopes is a sensual kiss. “I don't mind at all it didn't last long, or that I didn't finish,” James winces and tries to move away, but she rolls her eyes and moves over him until she's straddling his hips, and her hands push on his shoulders. “Hey, look at me. I honestly don't care how long it lasted. And it's not as if I was left unsatisfied, I did—you know—when we were… touching. And it felt wonderful.”

Now it's her turn to feel embarrassed, and a little vulnerable. She hadn't expected to say that much when trying to reassure him, but it simply… the words sort of stumbled out without warning. She feels a little silly, especially as her cheeks turn red, and she has to look away.

It all goes away when he sits up and embraces her, kissing her softly on the lips, successfully pushing her irrational doubts away. “Okay then.”

They remain sitting there, the bed sheets forgotten around their legs, and with the awareness that comes from being naked and intimately pressed against someone you—liked very present in their minds. When Lily starts to feel him reacting to their closeness again, she's about to suggest they give it a second go, but James kind of beats her to it.

Only not saying the words she expected to hear.

“Lily, I… that is… er, what—dammit.”

She leans back a little, her arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders, and blinks in confusion and then mild surprise when he turns a determinate look on her.

“What… Lily, what does this mean for… for us?”

“For us?”

He nods firmly, his serious expression a wide contrast to what she is used to. “Yes. I mean, is… is this a one-time thing? I know what I want, Lily,” he pauses, winces a little, but charges on like a Gryffindor. “You might not believe me, but I've always know what—who I wanted. And I really… really don't want this to be just a… fling.”

It shocks her, to hear him say that. It's been months since James stopped proclaiming his “undying love”. Months since he's pestered for dates. They are friends now, even if he still annoys her endlessly, they are friends. But this? She doesn't know. Well, yes, she does know what she wants (who she wants), but can she risk it? Amazingly enough, Lily hasn't thought about anything beyond this day. She had sex with James, yet she hasn't stopped to really think about it until now.

Does she want this, to be more? Or is she content with it being just a fling, a one-night-stand? Will she regret it later if she says yes to more? Is she willing to risk it?

She knows the answers to those questions, but first, she needs to be sure of one thing. “Do you… care about me, James?”

The emphasis on that one word does not go unnoticed.

“Yes, I care about you. More than you can probably imagine, Lily.”

And that's enough for her.

Leaning forward, she tightens her arms around his shoulders and pressed her lips to his cheek, whispering. “I care about you, too, James.”

His exhaled breath, coming more as a weak laugh, is heartening in the sense that it lets her know she's not the only one nervous about this whole thing. He doesn't waste time and quickly rushes in to kiss her, taking her breath away and making her, again, incredibly aware of their state of undress, of his growing arousal as well as her own.

“Does this make you my girlfriend?” he asks eagerly, all his absent confidence suddenly back.

Lily snorts but doesn't refuses him, simply arches an eyebrow. “After you ask me properly, you dolt.”

James leans back on one hand, smirking in that infuriating way that used to frustrate her only because she actually thinks, has always thought, it makes him look irresistible. “Evans… how about it? Want to be my girlfriend?”

Funny, how it is now, that she's not trying to deny her feelings for him, his cocky attitude actually amuses her. Maybe, she thinks, it's only because she knows he won't be taking advantage of his charms now, why would he, if the one girl he wants is finally his?

“You're an idiot,” Lily says, kissing him deeply.

They fall back on her bed, unable to ignore their bodies' desire anymore. And the auburn-haired witch thinks magic is truly wonderful when she knows that a simple, localized pain-numbing charm later, and she won't need to worry about sore muscle preventing her from enjoying a second round with her newly acquired boyfriend.

~

Next morning, they almost sleep in.

Lily, fortunately, is used to wake up at the crack of dawn even on weekends, even if she'll simply turn around and go back to sleep for a few more hours. In fact, she'd been in the process of doing just that, when the events of the day before, the night before, come back to her with a vengeance. And she finishes her turn only to come face to face with the sleeping form of James. In retrospective, she should've expected it, but her brain doesn't begin to function properly until she's had her morning coffee so, there, of course she misses to notice the arm draped around her waist.

She takes a few minutes to admire his peaceful expression.

After their second go, in which Lily didn't finish again, though James was considered enough to… to lick her to completion after he'd finished, they had both gone to sleep. Not before ensuring their privacy and that no one suspected anything. One thing is to let the school find out about their new relationship status, another one entirely is let her roommates see their discarded clothes all over the floor. So, after placing all their clothing in her trunk, closing the curtains on her poster bed, and sealing them with a series of powerful charms, they'd gone to sleep.

Then, half way into the night, she'd woken up to James sucking her breasts, teasing her nipples with his tongue, while his talented fingers brought her steadily to the brink of a massive orgasm. She'd barely had time to fist her hands in his hair, moaning his name, before his plunged into her awaiting sex. The orgasm had hit her almost as soon as he entered her. He had looked really proud of himself.

Later, she'd awoken again, only this time to the feel of his partially erect penis pressing into her bum. She giggled and then got the wicked idea of reciprocating and shimmied out his arms and down the bed, until she was face to face to that rather beautiful appendage. It hadn't taken her long to suck and lick and kiss him into a full erection, and by the time she had ridden him to the brink this time, James woke up in time to grasp her hips and explode into her just as she exploded around him.

Her cheeks blush, her face turning hot with a kind of proud embarrassment, still having a hard time believing she could be so brazen. Shaking her head, Lily pushes those thoughts away, not really being in the right conditions to be aroused again, knowing no charm can numb the soreness she feels now after such a night. Hell, even James complained about needing a break the last time.

But, she needs to focus on now, on getting him out of her dorm before anyone wakes up and finds them. The Marauders must already be wondering about his absence, no need to let them know the real reason for it.

“James. James, wake up.”

After he wakes up, feeling and looking much like she did (confused then surprised and then relieved), and he's dressed in his clothes and she's in her pyjamas, they move out of her room as quietly as possible. Lily loathes to admit it, but it feels good to be doing something so… against the rules. Not that she'll repeat it anytime soon, but still, very good. Door closed, and James turns to her with a kicked-puppy look, she rolls her eyes and casts a quick breath-freshening charm before letting him kiss her.

Once he's satisfied, and Lily suspects it won't be for long, he turns to leave. “See you later.”

She stops him, of course. “Not so fast, Potter.”

“Eh?”

“I have to get you down the stairs first.”

“You have to get me…?”

Again, Lily rolls her eyes and smiles amusedly, grabbing his hand. “I'll let you in on a little secret if you promise not to abuse it.”

He ponders, actually stops to think about it, before nodding.

“The charms on the stairs leading up here, to the girls' dorm, works both ways,” she chuckles at his confused frown, but keeps going. “If you were to simply walk down, you'll trip the alarm, the stairs turn into a slide, you fall, while the obnoxious siren goes off and wakes everyone in the Tower and alerts Professor McGonagall.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

“Well, I can just call a house-elf to take me to my dorm.”

House-elf. Right, so that's how they got up here so fast.

“No need, I know how to bypass the alarm. In fact, every girl knows how. It's quite simple.” She smiles, pecks his lips and retreats. “I lead you downstairs, holding your hand.”

James blinks, once, twice, and then his eyes widen in surprise. “That's it?”

“Yep.”

“That's…”

“Ridiculously easy to do?”

“Yeah…”

“But only if you know about it.”

Conceding her point, James bows before her dramatically. “Well, my fair lady, lead the way.”

They're all happy and giddy and giggly walking down the stairs, but just as the round the bend and the Common Room comes into view, a familiar voice makes them freeze on the spot.

“Oh-ho. What is this?”

Lily closes her eyes, in mortification, not that she's ashamed or anything, but, of all possible Gryffindors to be up this early on a Sunday morning, it had to be…

“Ickle Prongs coming down from the girls' dorm… hand-in-hand… with Lily.”

…Sirius Black.

Of course, he isn't alone, and although Peter is asleep on one of the armchairs, Remus is not, and she sees him tilting his head back a little, his nose twitching, and a shocked looks falls over his face.

“Crap.”

“Language, Evans.”

James sends her a pleading glance, with just a touch of desperate. She doesn't quite get what he wants, but she can guess, and guess correctly at that. So, with her head held high, and ignoring the obnoxious laugher of Sirius Black and the light, badly concealed chuckle of Remus, she continues to descend the stairs until she's standing on the first step and James is on the floor.

He darts a quick glare at his friends before turning his eyes to her, and leans closer, whispering. “I'm sorry about this…”

This, being the impromptu meeting with the rest of the Marauders.

But Lily has long stopped getting annoyed by anything Sirius did or said, she knows, she'd spend the rest of her life annoyed if she doesn't. So, she shakes her head, gives him a smile, and just because she still feels rather brazen, wraps her arms around his shoulders and brings him in for another, this time more passionate, kiss.

James doesn't disappoint, kissing her back with a much passion.

And the laugher stops abruptly, so mission accomplished.

Just as the world around her starts to fade and narrow to focus on the boy whose lips she's kissing, and she's sure James' world already faded, Lily pulls back smiling bashfully. Pecking his lips one last time, she whispers a quick “see you later”, turns around and goes up the stairs again. She misses the dazed look and goofy smile on her new boyfriends face.

She does hear, however, loud and clear, the beginnings of what she knows will be a long session of teasing for the boy that goes by the nickname of Prongs.

“Moony, did he? Did they?”

“They did, Padfoot.”

“HAHA! I KNEW IT!”

“Shut up, Padfoot!”

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end.

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Comment are very welcome! If you see any mistakes, please let me know.

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