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21 January 2007 @ 02:50 pm
Never the Bride- Lily/Sirius (NC-17)  
Title: Never the Bride
Author: eonone
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Lily/Sirius (mentions of Lily/James)
Summary: You don't shag the girl your best mate's been in love with since First Year. It's a rule. Then again, Sirius isn't so good with rules.
Warnings: None

Author's notes: Written as a smutty_claus gift for rian219. This was a pinch hit, and gave me quite a bit of grief in tying all the ends of it together. I ended up pretty happy with it, but still wish I'd had more time to work out the raw edges. Who knows, I may come back and edit the heck out of this later.



When James pulled the ring out of his pocket and presented it to him, Sirius knew what it meant. He clasped his hands to his heart and shoved the ring onto his pinky, prancing a bit and heralding his true love for James. But he knew what it meant. It meant the end of lounging in James' flat on the sofa with the broken spring, of scrounging through a refrigerator that contained beer, milk, and an old jar of peanut butter. It meant the end of dingy pubs and James' face turning scarlet from firewhiskey and waving the ugly girls over for Peter.

James was going to marry Evans. Even though James had looked uncertain and wrenched the ring off of Sirius' finger before dropping melodramatically onto the part of the sofa that was correctly springy, Sirius knew she'd say yes. He knew because she'd been dropping hints to him and Remus every time James left the room, with little glances and nudges and her eyes fluttery with hopeful excitement.

Sirius wondered vaguely if Remus had passed along the message to James, because he certainly hadn't. Every time Evans looked like she was about to start into it, he'd found an excuse to slip out after James, or chug his beer with determination, or find someone else to talk to. The rest of the time, he pretended to be oblivious.

And right now, as James held his head in one hand and the ring in the other, Sirius forced a laugh and clapped James merrily on the back, sitting on the arm of the sofa and ruffling his fingers through James' already-mussed hair.

"Prongs, mate. Just ask her."

Sirius knew that later, he would only have himself to blame for this. He'd had an immeasurable amount of options, sitting there on that sofa. He could have told James that Evans didn't really love him. That she was a terrible slag. That she had a cock tucked up under her skirts (though that one, James could pretty easily discount.) He could have done a lot of things to keep James in the merry world of bachelorhood just a little longer, but none of them were fair to Evans. She was a good bird for James. Pretty, smart, and she loved him. So Sirius did the Right Thing, and pretended to be happy for his best mate. Pretended to be happy that James and Evans were going to get married in the midst of war, even though they were probably rushing into this because of it. Rushing to grow up and race along the path of experience as fast as they could because none of them knew how much time they really had.

James' face broke into an uneasy grin, and he leapt off the sofa and started pacing. The sofa bounced, and Sirius nearly fell off of it, but James hardly noticed.

"Tomorrow," he said, chewing on his thumbnail and murmuring things too low for Sirius to make out. Suddenly he looked up and grinned, looking so confident and excited that Sirius couldn't help but mirror his expression and give an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "I'm really doing this, Padfoot."

Sirius grinned again, hollowly. "Tomorrow," he agreed, getting to his feet and pulling James down by the neck to ruffle his hair again and clap him on the back in a (completely manly) hug. James laughed, raking his own hands through his hair and staring at the ring.

Sirius let himself out, but not before nicking one of James' beers. "Tomorrow," he said bitterly, when James' door was shut behind him. He downed it before he'd even made it to the sidewalk.



After that, it was an excruciatingly choreographed chain of events. First the grand proposal, on New Years' Eve at Lily's place, amidst the rest of them downing alcohol too cheap to be called champagne, but rather, "sparkling wine" (though everyone was too far gone to tell the difference.) And then there were more forced smiles and the sea of congratulations. James the happiest they'd seen him since graduation. Evans wrapping her arms around Sirius' neck and saying "Thank you, thank you," that made Sirius wonder if James had told her about the night in his flat. He didn't think so, but he didn't ask. He just muttered a "Really, I didn't do anything," but her smile didn't falter. It reached straight up to her green eyes every time she looked at him.

It made him look away.

He'd known it was coming, the night James pulled him aside and asked him to be his Best Man. Remus and Peter would be there, both of them Groomsmen. But James wanted Sirius to be his Best Man, to stand next to him while he fussed over his bowtie and swore at his own reflection. To tell James to keep his voice down, because after all, this was a church, and a Muggle church, at that. James wanted Sirius there to calm his nerves and crack jokes about Lily's frigid sister and keep James' hands from snapping the buttons of his tuxedo with his shaking fingers. James wanted Sirius to stand next to him and watch his face light up as Lily came down the aisle on her father's arm. James wanted Sirius to stand and smile and cheer as he and Lily kissed, to clap him on the back as James became a man and Evans became a Potter.

Sirius said yes, and he did all of that. He sat to James' right during the reception dinner, and they knocked elbows because Sirius was left-handed. He stood and gave a raucous, rowdy toast, so much so, in fact, that Petunia Dursley and her portly new husband fled from the table in disgust. Lily laughed and laughed, watching James try and wrestle Sirius back into his seat, all of them giddy from (genuine) champagne and drunk off of the love that weddings poison the air with.

Sirius stole Remus' camera and filled it not only with pictures of the glowing newlyweds, but also pictures of the bridesmaids and Lily's female guests. They were rarely pictures that included faces, and Sirius was hardly discreet. Remus apologized profusely for every one, which kept Sirius one step ahead, clicking away. Peter laughed and egged them along, constantly tugging at the collar of the shirt that was too tight around his fat neck.

By the end of the night, friends and relatives had all left, the orchestra had long since folded their music stands, and only the Marauders and Mr. And Mrs. James Potter remained among the half-filled flutes of champagne and trays of food. Remus was eying the waxing half-moon warily, Peter was passed out across several folding chairs, and Sirius was finishing off a large platter of biscuits.

He could tell by the way they were turned and completely engrossed in one another that the new Potters were ready to get on with their wedding night, so Sirius went for a pitcher of water to wake up Peter, who had currently taken to snoring with his mouth hanging open. When he turned back, Lily and James were kissing.

He'd seen them kiss before. Plenty of times. But this was different. This wasn't feigning horror and launching pillows when they were all pissed and laughing and James was doing it on purpose because the girl Sirius had tried to seduce had slapped him smartly across the face. This was James closing his eyes and leaning into Lily's body, oblivious to the fact that anyone else in the world was there. But Lily's eyes weren't closed. They were wide and green and locked straight onto Sirius, crinkled like she was smiling, though he knew she was doing other things with her mouth.

Silently, Sirius moved and upturned the pitcher over Peter's head. Peter howled and jumped, dislodging the line of chairs he'd been sprawled across and landing in a lump on the ground, his feet tangled in the air. James spun around and doubled over from laughing so hard, and even Remus was failing to keep a straight face, his expression unpleasantly conflicted between trying to look concerned that Peter hadn't concussed himself and trying not to break open into a grin. Sirius wrapped his fingers around Peter's pudgy arm and helped him up, pushing the spluttering Wormtail towards the dressing tents. Remus, whose face had settled into a sort of vague amusement, waved goodbye and followed Peter, side-Apparating him home after haphazardly gathering their things.

Sirius tipped an invisible hat to the newlyweds, then made a lewd gesture to James and stuffed the rest of his biscuits into the inside pocket of his jacket. James laughed and told Sirius to "kindly fuck off," but Lily only half-smiled, still staring at him in that way that made his skin itch. Sirius laughed and disappeared into the tent as well, not caring if it sounded hollow.



He didn't know why he stayed and paced in the tent. He was partially concerned that he was too pissed to Apparate home, or at least to distracted, so he shucked his tie onto the floor and his jacket onto one of the tables and yanked the top buttons of his shirt open. He splashed water into his face and stared at his reflection, flushed a bit from the alcohol, but not anything near the caliber of pink that James sported.

He could Apparate just fine, he knew. That was an excuse to distract from the real reason, and he knew that too. He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair and turning to grab his tie. And then the door opened, and Lily stepped through it.

Sirius turned and took a step back.

She was drunk. Sirius knew this, because he'd become quite adept at picking out drunk girls and easy girls out of crowds. It was an incredibly useful talent, one dismally under-appreciated in the realm of Hogwarts' academia, but useful nonetheless. There were, of course, consequences to mistaking a drunk girl for an easy girl (like the time he'd been locked out of his own flat until he could recall the girl's name), but that was beside the point. The point was that Lily was standing in front of him in her wedding gown, eying Sirius the same way Peter eyed anything edible.

"You're drunk," he stated, simply, and she shrugged, the action pronouncing the delicate line of her collarbone. He licked his lips unconsciously. "Where's James?"

"He's... indisposed," Lily smirked, stepping forward, moving so close to him that the skirt of her dress covered his feet.

Sirius knew this was bad. Always the bridesmaids, never the bride. It was his rule, and as his own rule, probably one of the very few he kept. Like the "you don't shag the girl your best mate's been in love with since First Year especially if she's still in her wedding gown" rule. But as Lily stepped forward again, resting her bare toes on top of his shoes and tilting up to kiss him, Sirius skirted dangerously close to breaking them both.

But James was his best mate.

Sirius stepped back abruptly, and Lily wobbled, falling forward and bracing her arms against Sirius', who caught her and supported her easily with his own weight. "We can't do this, Evans."

She laughed, the smell of champagne and sugar lilting up to his face with her breath. She shifted her weight within his arms, so that she was pressed flush against him, her hands snaked around his neck. Her fingers idly tickled the hairs on his neck, and his breath sped up. This was wrong, so wrong.

"I know you want it, Sirius. Want me." Her eyes were locked on his, wide and demanding, her red lips making his name sound like a sin. Her fingers played idly at his neck for a moment, then swept down across his shoulder and across the expanse of skin his unbuttoned shirt left exposed. He nearly nodded, but caught himself, and caught Lily's fingers within his own, stopping their exploration.

"No," he said, with less force than he'd intended, but her face twisted and she yanked her fingers all the same. He didn't let go, and she stilled and stared up at him, her face pleading.

"Just a kiss Sirius. Just one kiss, as my wedding present?"

His head dropped slightly in resignation, a strand of hair slipping into his eyes. Lily brushed it back behind his ear with her free hand, slyly tracing her fingers along the shell and down his neck. "I've always wanted to..."

It wouldn't, couldn't just be a kiss. Sirius knew this.

He let her crush her lips against his anyway.

It was awkward, at first, with the girth of her skirt and the height difference between them. They didn't clack teeth, but almost, and the lack of grace about it was so foreign to Sirius that it made his head spin. Lily tasted sweet- almost too sweet, and Sirius thought vaguely, as her tongue swept against his lips, that she must taste of James, too.

She nipped his bottom lip, and Sirius growled, gripping her waist and yanking her up, surprising her enough that she knocked her forehead against his and breathed a laugh into his ear. There would be bruises on her hips come morning; bruises that James had never made. Sirius tried not to think about it.

He lifted her roughly and set her down on one of the tables; she leaned back on her arms, legs spread and her weight wrinkling the expensive fabric of Sirius' jacket. She was breathless and flushed, her lips a deep red that couldn't be explained away by too much champagne. She was beautiful and sinful and maybe he ought to have made a greater effort in dissuading James, after all.

But then she was leaning forward again, wrapping one bare foot around his knee and urging him forward, snaking her fingers into his hair and tugging his face down. Sirius let her. He let his hands find their way to her breasts, squeezing harshly through the bodice of her gown. She moaned into his mouth, and his breath hitched, so he did it again, letting his fingers slide along the exposed skin above the fabric, dipping his fingers down until she tore her lips away from his, panting for breath.

Suddenly, her grip on his hair subsided, leaving behind tiny pinpricks of sensation where her fingers, now working furiously on the buttons of his shirt, had been. She managed with the first two, then gave up and yanked, sending tiny pearl buttons skittering along the floor. Lily pushed on Sirius' arms, and he obliged her by shrugging out of his shirt. She smiled appreciatively and traced her fingers down the smooth lines of his chest, swirling them around his nipples, dipping them into his navel, then moving lower to pluck at the line of dark hair that disappeared into his trousers. He hissed, leaning forward and nipping at her ear, and she tossed her head back to grant him access to her neck.

Sirius smirked, refusing to take the bait, and tugged her forward, enough so that her bare feet reached the floor but that she was still resting on the edge of the table. He surveyed the dress impatiently, raking his hands along it and fighting with the ruffles of it to see where it all connected.

"How do you get this bloody thing off?" Sirius frowned and easily whirled Lily around, ignoring her breathless hisses of protest as he kept her forward on the table, so that she was balancing her weight on her tiptoes and arching her back. It was lovely to see.

"Sirius, if you rip my wedding gown, I swear..." she turned her head to glare at him, one red curl displaced from the rest of her perfectly woven hair and stuck to her forehead. She was flushed and only a little sobered by the fact that Sirius was in danger of ruining her very expensive gown.

He flashed her a grin and tugged, and the tiny crosshair stitches that had connected the skirt to the bodice of her gown fell apart beneath his nimble fingers. He tugged again, and the back seam split in half- exposing the white lace of her knickers. She whirled on him, small fists pounding against his chest. A nail slashed across one of his nipples and Sirius gasped, but he caught her hands easily and pushed her back against the table, pressing himself against her arse until she quieted enough to lay still without him holding her, though she still looked livid.

"I'll fix it," he chuckled lowly, draping himself against her and twisting his hips. Lily whimpered and clutched the ivory tablecloth.

Sirius lifted her arse so that her feet fell away from the torn fabric of her skirt, then kicked it aside and spread Lily's legs apart in one movement. He let his fingers drop to her knickers and pressed them roughly along the drenched fabric that covered her cunt. Lily squealed and pushed back against him, writhing against the table.

"Sirius, please."

She didn't need to tell him twice. Sirius fumbled with the fastenings of his trousers, then stepped out of them and cast them aside. His fingers traced the lace of Lily's knickers again, then tugged, splitting them down the middle. Lily gasped- a wild, animal sound- and Sirius felt her quiver before he thrust into her.

She screamed her husband's name when she came.



Sirius lounged lazily on James' sofa, one of the few things left in the rapidly-emptying flat. Most of the stuff they'd ended up tossing, but some things- like James' Harpy of the Month Calendar- were meant to be cherished. Others- like all the things that ever made James' flat smell strange- had been highly entertaining.

James brushed his hair out of his eyes and tossed Sirius a warm beer before flopping down onto the broken spring next to him, glancing around at the grey walls.

"This is it, mate. The start of the rest of my life." Sirius turned his bottle too vertically but managed not to choke. "Hey, ponce. You never asked me about my wedding night." Sirius did choke, but James didn't seem to notice. He simply snapped the cap of his bottle off and stuffed it under the cushion.

"Didn't know you had a wedding night."

James laughed and scratched his head to hide his flush. "Well, I didn't. Not really. But I did have one hell of a morning. I thought she'd be sore, what with her having to drag my cold, unconscious arse home, but she wasn't." Sirius shifted in his seat, but James continued, dropping his voice a bit, like he did when they were discussing Evans in the common room at school.

"And, to be honest, I thought she'd be a bit frigid her first time. They say it's supposed to hurt and all that rot. But- bloody hell. She's something else. Fucked so hard it left bruises."

Sirius chugged the rest of his beer, but James' eyes were there to meet his when he lowered the bottle.

"You're happy for me, aren't you, Padfoot?"

"Of course I am," Sirius lied. "Just a bit jealous you're fucking Evans instead of me, is all."

James laughed, and his voice filled the thin walls of his flat. Sirius didn't echo it. He only grinned, too afraid of the sound his mouth would make if he let it open.

James finished his beer and let the bottle drop from his fingers. It rolled lightly along the sofa and toppled onto the floor. Sirius flinched.

"Just tell me one thing, Sirius." James stared hard at Sirius, whose fingers clenched a bit too tightly around the glass.