"James…"

His name dropped from his lips so easily he wanted to kick himself. It had been so easy. He made everything feel so effortless.

But it wasn't. It wasn't, and Severus had to remember that. He needed to.

It had been relatively painless; brushing off his feelings and concentrating on the task. It helped a lot that these were something he was so extremely good at. So fucking good.

And still, after these past months filled with killing and poisoning and plotting, there he was. Standing and looking at Severus with his stupid (kind) and desperate eyes.

They were alone at the roof of the factory they'd attacked. It should had been fast. A piece of cake. Fun even. Only muggles and some blood traitors.

They were going to show them where they belonged.

But suddenly, seven figures had appareted and the Order Of The Phoenix started fighting back and taking the survivors out.

It didn't matter because now he was here, and Severus felt his pleading eyes, asking for a chance.

He refused to look at him longer. Knew what happened every time you looked at James Potter's eyes when he wanted you to do something. And that is that you would end up doing the thing anyway.

Severus knew the rest of the Death Eaters had long gone.

There was no real reason to keep standing in front of him, with his arms glued to his sides to stop them from closing the space between them.

Yet he feared that (knowing his friends and the type of baboons that were on the Order), they would be looking for the man who had changed so much since the last time they saw each other.

He was taller. All broad shoulders and strong arms. There was some hardness in his features that made him look somehow older. But even in the dim street lights, Severus could see that cheeky dimple, waiting to deepen on a friendly gesture.

That never happened.

James looked miserable. And more attractive than ever, the bastard.

Heartbreak looked good on him.

Severus wished he could say the same for himself.

His hair hadn't been this greassy since his earlier school years and he cared so little about his safety, he wore two long and deep gushes; one in his collarbone, the other in the forhead.

He felt the stickiness and warmness of the blood impregnate into the black robes and thought it would blend well with the rest of the scars.

James was all dirty and bloody, without any injure visible. His head, a black mess, and Severus ws sure he could smell burned hair.

He was breathing with his mouth open and in the contrast with the light, he saw his chest heaving.

The wand was being grabbed in a white knuckled grip, but Severus knew there was no real intention of using it. He smelled like iron. And smoke. And James.

Damn it, Potter.

James came closer, and Severus wanted to point at him with his wand. But the sole try was so sad in the lack of real intention, that James ignored it completely.

"Come"

There was a moment of dead silence in Severus' head. What?

"What?"

James' eyes lit up, and the ghost of his smile appeared. Severus knew that look way too much and immediately hold his breath.

"Come. With me. Come."

Snape would have laughed if the actual thing he was asking for wouldn't be so fucking ridiculous. And is that he had heard those exact same words from him. But last time, was in his bed and the sweat that had coated his body was from a very and much more pleasent reason.

Trying to repress as much as he could the memories that where now taunting him, he said, in what he hoped, an emotionless tone.

"You are delusional." His voice was too breathy. And needy.

James' was desperate still, but the glint of hope didn't hide fast enough.

"Come."

"No"

"Come"

"Stop"

"Sev"

Sev, Sev, Sev, Sev, Sev, Sev, Sev, Sev, Sev…

Sev.

Damn you, James. Damn. You.

Six months had been enough to drive him crazy. He felt more numb, stupid and useless than ever before in his bloody life.

He missed him. There was no point in denying it. But they couldn't be. It just wasn't right. Or meant to be. They weren't right for each other. Severus wasn't right for him.

The last time they've saw, they were shouting, all closed fists and rage inside. That's not how you are with someone that's good for you.

For starters, you would remain together.

They were to different.

Severus was not Lily. And James needed her.

"James" he'd said. "James stop. Go back with her. And we'll do what we are supposed to do. Go and save the world. It's too late for me."

"James" he would say.

James. James. James. James.

Instead, he grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him so hard he felt their teeth clash making them taste blood on his lips.

It was messy, but that's what they were. A mess. A mess of everything and always. All the time.

Everything Severus thought had begun to bury itself, resurged in an instant, stronger.

James' hands were everywhere.

His face, his back, his hair, his sides-

The sudden hit of his back against a wall made him jolt, but it wasn't enough to separate them.

Six months had been too much. Enough.

"Come." He had said. And after kissing him again, he had to.

Because Severus was sure he could never be without James' mouth, and his throaty laugh, and his being again.

So he would go. Even if it meant to leave everything he knew, behind.

It didn't matter. He had Potter to look forward to.

Always.

Hope you enjoyed it and let me know your thoughts (: