12

"Mom's never been good with first aid," James laughs.

He and Mickey just finished dinner when James had the sense to ask if Mickey's wounds had been tended to. After receiving Mrs. Potter's apologies, Mickey tells James that he hadn't.

James promptly freaked out, and demanded that Mickey go take a shower as soon as he finished eating. "Gently," he had warned. "I'll clean up your face when you're done."

And so here they are, Mickey sitting on the closed toilet seat, curls still dripping from his shower. He's got on one of James' t-shirts and flannel pants, both fresh out of the laundry (James had insisted, since the lavender scent of his mom's fabric softener has always helped him sleep at night. That's the only reason.)

James always thought he was the skinniest out of his friends, but it's rather cute to see that his shirt looks so big on Mickey. The neckline hangs low, which startled James at first, he'd admit, but that's only because Mickey has really prominent collarbones. James just wants to make sure Mickey is eating enough.

"It's getting in your eyes," James says. Without thinking, he runs his hand through Mickey's hair and brushes the bangs out of his face. "There."

"Thanks, Jimbo." Mickey watches him sift through the first aid kit.

James feels nervous when Mickey's full attention is on him. Probably because he's afraid of looking like he doesn't know what he's doing. "I'm not a healer," he warns. "I'm good at tending to wounds, though. At least, according to Remus."

"Does he get into fights often?" Mickey asks. "He seems to always be scratched up. I've always thought maybe he has a very mean cat."

"Something like that," James replies. He squeezes some ointment onto a square of gauze. He then places two fingers under Mickey's chin and lifts his face towards him. "This might hurt a bit, I'm sorry."

Mickey hums in response. He's watching James, and it makes the bespectacled boy more nervous than he thinks he should be.

Mickey is looking at him like he expects something, and while James knows he's awaiting the first sting of the ointment, he wonders why it feels like something more.

He tries to stop thinking so much and instead presses the gauze against Mickey's lip.

"Ow," Mickey hisses. He reaches out and fists James' shirt.

"I'm sorry," James says. He focuses more on being gentle and less on what Mickey thinks of him. "I was distracted."

"Distracted by my pretty eyes?" Mickey quips just as James finishes cleaning his face.

"Shut up," James tosses a towel over Mickey's head. "I wasn't even looking at your eyes."

"No?" Mickey tugs the towel off of his head and shoots James a teasing grin. "Are you gonna look at them now?"

He bats his eyelashes, and James knows Mickey is just playing with him, but he can't help but notice that Mickey's eyes are a rather alluring shade of blue. "Um... Er— I mean, they're pretty..?"

Mickey stands up and giggles. Full-on giggles, and James' chest tightens at the sound. "You're cute, James. Let's head to bed, yeah?"

James watches the shorter boy leave, and catches his shocked expression in the bathroom mirror.

Why is his face so red?

-

James lies on his back beside Mickey, trying not to move a single muscle. He's so hyper aware of everything he does around Mickey, and it's beginning to bother him.

He just wants to know why he can't relax around Mickey. He should be able to, logically, because Mickey is one of his closest friends, and there's no need to be tense around him.

James risks a look at him. "Mickey?"

Mickey leans up on his elbow and rubs at his eye. He looks so sleepy it hurts, and James feels bad for not letting him rest. "Can't sleep?"

James shakes his head. He doesn't really want to say anything. He doesn't want to tell Mickey that he feels weird, because he doesn't want Mickey to think it's his fault. It's not, James is just uncomfortable a lot these days.

He doesn't want to admit his discomfort out loud, so he changes the subject. "Are you okay? After everything?"

"Yeah," Mickey whispers. "What about you?"

"What about me?" James furrows his brows and turns on his side, fully facing Mickey. "I'm not the one who ran away from home."

Mickey stares at James for a moment before answering. "Your mom said you felt guilty about what happened."

"How could I not?" James feels defensive. "You're my friend. I should've been able to keep you from that situation."

"You couldn't have known," Mickey says softly. "It wasn't either of our faults. This one was all my dad's."

"I hate him," James says. "You deserve a better family."

Mickey sighs. It sounds defeated, as if he's thought the same thing for awhile. "Yeah, well..."

"I can be your family." The words fall out of James' mouth before he can stop them.

The air stills between the two of them. James wants to take back his words, not because he doesn't mean them, but because they make him feel vulnerable; naked. Mickey shouldn't know how much he affects James. He shouldn't.

It's weird. At least, it is to James.

Mickey is still staring at James. It's killing James that he can't read the other boy's thoughts. He wishes so badly he could take back the words without sounding like a total jerk.

Then Mickey hugs him. Tackles him, really.

James is pushed onto his back, and Mickey's arms are around his waist. Mickey rests his head on James' chest and squeezes him tightly. "D'you mean it? Like, really?"

James' tongue feels heavy. His chest feels heavy and his heart feels heavy and he wishes he could take the fear out of Mickey's voice and throw it in the deepest ocean, never to be heard from again. He wishes he could hold Mickey in his arms forever if that's what keeps the smaller boy from harm.

James lets his palm rest of the small of Mickey's back. His brain feels fuzzy as soon as he realizes Mickey's shirt has ridden up, and James is touching his bare skin. Hesitantly — ever so gently — James rubs his thumb up and down Mickey's skin.

He's so scared. So scared this feeling is going to go away, and Mickey is going to flee to the guest bedroom, too weirded out by James and his presence.

"I mean it, Mickey," he manages to choke out. He looks up to the ceiling, struggling to ignore every minuscule movement Mickey makes. Every time Mickey's curls tickle his neck, James thinks he's going to pass out.

From what? He doesn't know, because at the same time, he never wants this moment to end. When Mickey sighs against his chest and snuggles in further like he's meant to be there; like there's no safer place he could be, James feels his heart melt. He wants to be the one Mickey goes to when he needs help, or safety, or love, or—

Oh.

James suddenly wants to cry. Merlin, it should've been obvious since the beginning. He should've known from the moment he met Mickey in the quidditch field that this would happen. How could it not?

How could anyone not fall in love with Mickey Einstein?

-

:D

so uhhhhhh that happened. i think this was my favorite chapter to write so far,,, i really liked writing james' inner monologue. plus i'm in love w mickey so it was easy to write james' infatuation :)!!

i forgot to tell y'all but i'm going to see kurtis conner in september!! my sister bought me vip tickets so i'm going to get to hug him and hopefully give him some gifts!!! i'm so excited!!!

as always pls tell me what you like/dislike about the chapter!! and what you'd like to see in the future :)!!

the next chapter will hopefully be the marauders feat. james in a gay panic