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Under the Influence


Sirius stumbled and fell against James, laughing, his fist ‘round the neck of the second bottle of Firewhiskey they’d opened that night. He brought it to his mouth and poured the last of it down his throat, groaning as it burned down the length of him all the way to his belly. He tossed the bottle aside and it shattered against a tree. “Blimey I din’ think it’d do that,” he slurred.

“What’d you think it was goin’ to bounce off like a bloody rubber ball?” James hooted.

Sirius didn’t answer, he just laughed harder than he ought to and started singing, his voice carrying through the woods. A weasel stopped sniffing along a few feet away to look, craning its neck over to see the two boys as Sirius tripped again and his arm went over James’s shoulder.

Peter and Remus had fallen asleep by the fire ages ago, wrapped up in blankets that Remus had gone inside to collect. They’d made a ring of make shift beds ‘round the fire and it was there that they’d sat, cross-legged, passing about the bottles of firewhiskey and taking it in turns to tell far fetched stories and make up legends - or else tell real ones. James did an excellent rendition of the Tale of the Three Brothers, and Sirius told them some of the mermish legends he knew. They’d laughed talking about Filch and Peter had done an excellent impression of the old Caretaker. They’d slowly lost their inhibition and their talk had gotten louder and lost its sense in stages so that they went from making Peter do his impression of Filch to saying how much they missed him.

Remus had been the first to fall asleep and Sirius had put a blanket over him carefully and tucked his hair off his forehead. James had watched as Sirius ran his fingers across Remus’s forehead. He took a pull from the bottle, then tried handing it off to Peter, only to find that he’d fallen asleep, too.

“Let’s go for a walk,” James had suggested.

Sirius hadn’t realized how much of the whiskey he’d drank until he stood up and the world had seemed to whirl about as he did so. His eyes went a bit crossed, but he could walk and that was all that he really needed to go on with James. Sirius had started off singing but had quieted the more whiskey he’d drank out of the bottle. James had started refusing his turns so that Sirius had drank a good deal more than he had by the time the bottle had emptied and his words were sort of running together, like colored paint in the rain.

“You were going to tell me something before,” James said suddenly, “Before. When the lads were gone to the lake.”

“OH THAT.” Sirius said, and he laughed, his feet hitting the ground at funny angles as he lumbered along, his hips moving the way they did when he was a dog. “Stupid really, what I was goingter say you see I wasn’t real sure I wanted to say it anyway but it was sort of something on my mind a mite - a bit, just lately. But it’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t stupid,” James replied, “You don’t say stupid things.”

“While I’d like to believe -- you’re wrong, I do… I say a great many of the stupidest things that I think… my brain… says… it says stupid things inside me sometimes,” Sirius laughed, “Should hear it in my head, my brain’s a bit of a git… says stupid things…” Sirius muttered. He tripped again, this time stumbling down a squat mound in the ground and catching himself against a tree. He laughed and hugged it, “Why thank you fer catchering me, you bugger tree. You wonderful stupid tree.” He kissed he bark.

“You’re kissing a tree, you arse,” snickered James.

“YOU KNOW WHO I WANT TO KISS?” Sirius asked, his voice roaring loudly as he turned, letting go of his tree. He patted it a moment, “Bye mate. Thanks fer saving me.” Then turned back to James, and, much quiete, his words running together, “Yknowho I wanter kiss?”

“Who? Not Marlene?”

“MARLENE MCKINNON -- noo, blimey no, I’ve kissed her. I’ve kissed her loads. But I don’t like it. She’s got these big teeth and our mouths bounce off each other funny. Our teeth always hit each other. Like we’re sword fighting with our mouths. Which is very awkward indeed.” Sirius laughed, “Big teeth are very hard to kiss about.” He spotted a stick with a funny bend to it and he bent down and grabbed it, randomly smacking things about them as they walked, thrashing plants.

“So who then?” James asked.

Sirius stopped swinging the stick about and he leaned very close so that James, even a bit intoxicated and fuzzy himself, could smell the whiskey on Sirius’s breath. “Don’t you be judging me by this now, when we’re… sober.. If we get sober ever again… you can’t be saying this.. Alright you’re under a binding… a clause… it says that James...whasss yer middle name again, Potter?”

“Charlus.”

“Thats a… horrible middle name.”

“Better’n my dad’s real first name. Fleamont. That’s a horrible name.”

“That’s a…fucking horrible name,” Sirius agreed and he laughed a bit at the use of the dirty word, his cheeks flushed red with the liquor. He stumbled again. “Anyway you’re under a contract Potter says you can’t tell bloody anybody what we say in the woods here, you and me, do you swear it?”

“I swear it,” James nodded.

“Well alright then I can tell you who it is I want to snog.”

“Alright,” James said, laughing, “Who is it then? Go on with it, you’re acting like it’s a huge confession you’re making. As though what bloody girl you want to snog is prime time news. Maybe the muggles will cover it on the telly.”

“I’d like to snog with Moony,” Sirius said.

This sobered James up almost instantly, as though ice water had been poured over his head. “You what now? Come again?”

Sirius giggled stupidly and he closed his eyes tight, wincing almost, his nose bunched up and lip lifted so his teeth showed as he hit a bit of brush with the stick and tripped over his own two feet a bit, despite having been standing still. James realized then exactly how drunk Sirius was.

“When did you decide this?” he asked.

“Been on my mind a bit now,” Sirius said, then he whispered, “‘member when he kissed me on the stair that night in the common room on his birthday in March?”

“You were angry,” James said.

“I was stupid for not kissing him back then.”

James stared at his friend as Sirius walked circles around him, hitting things with the stick. “I shoulddve shoved him back on that stair and… kissed him s’hard his mouth would’ve been sore.”

“Should you?” James asked, incredulous. In a hundred years he never would’ve expected this conversation to be happening, no matter how many bottles of firewhiskey had been consumed.

“I’ve had dreams all summer. Bout snogging that bloody werewolf all over the forest.” Sirius was humming a bit as he walked now, almost as though he were getting sleepy. “Iwantedto...snoghim… when he told me… he said he loved me… and he was all … all scarred and pink and silver… and green eyes… I been dreamin’... it’s like he’s always in my bloody brain, always so… fucking good lookin and saying things like… that I’m fire and he’s cold and scotched... no, not scotched. He’s scoot- scot - scored - soccer?”

“Scorched?”

“YAAAASSSSSSSS. THAT. THAT’S THE WORD I’M MEANING, POTTER, YOU’RE A BLOODY GENIUS.”

“You’re drunk.”

Sirius giggled and toppled into a tree and James grabbed him by his arm and pulled him up. “You’ve not a clue what you’re saying. You’re telling me things you’d never tell me otherwise.”

“Whiches why yer unner a contract not t’ teller souuuuuul what I’ve jus’ said,” Sirius said, “Cos I can’t go snogging Moony it would be improper.”

“Improper?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“HOW!” Sirius laughed, “You dinnt see Lyall’s face. His eyes was anger -- anger-y… anger-y like a mad… mad cow. He was in my face with his finger like thissss.” Sirius shoved his hand up in James’s face so close his palm nearly touched James’s nose like button. He pulled it back. “Told me ter go to hell. Said me’n my family… should… for killin’ the Bells, should all go… to burn in Hell.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“He got pisssssed, James.” Sirius paused. “James. Jaaaaaames. James. Your name is really funny ter say. Sounds funny. Feels funny on my mouth. James.”

“Stop. Why would it be improper to kiss Rey?”

“He’s a ruddy boy isn’t he? And I’m a boy. And that would make us gay. Gay together. Gay for each other. I don’t want to be gay. Remus is my friend. I like him like a friend. Love him like friend. But blimey is he good. He says things… that make my heart move. I swear I ain’t been told I was loved in all’er my life ‘til him saying it and I felt like my heart was alive for the first time. It was the WEIRDEST feeling James. Like I wasn’t even ALIVE before. Then Remus happened to me and I feel like I’ve been busted open, there’s guts all over.” He hit a tree and some leaves fell down. “Look at that. It’s me falling apart again because of some stupid thing Remus LUPIN has to go and say to me. Like his stupid mouth can’t open without saying something that makes me want to kiss him.”

James stared at Sirius.

“Fuck.” Sirius laughed and he ran his hand over his face and knelt down. “Is the earth spinning, James?”

“It’s always spinning.”

“Well I feel it right about now.”

“You alright?”

“I think I’m going to throw up, Potter.”

James nodded, and he reached for Sirius’s hair, pulling it out of the way from his mouth only just in time as all that firewhiskey came back, splashing on the purple shirt and the jeans, making nearly as big a mess as all the things Sirius had been saying under the influence.

“It’s alright,” James said, slapping Sirius on the back as he retched into the leaves. “Gonna be alright.” But he couldn’t help but wonder what Sirius would think once he’d come to and realized all of the things he’d said.