A/N: Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy this festive little drabble.

James Potter was many things, but boring he was not.

Much the same could be said of Sirius Black, which was how James had come to be fixed to the floor of the Entrance Hall with a sprig of mistletoe dangling above his head. He wasn't particularly bothered by this turn of events. He only wished Sirius had been a bit less predictable, a bit more inventive, a bit less –

"Clichéd, Potter."

"Quite," James agreed, careful to hide his smile. Flirting with the Head Girl was a delicate task, but all would be worth it in the end. "You ought to mention it to Sirius."

Lily shifted her books to her other hip and stared straight back at James with every appearance of disapproval. "The mistletoe is sad, but self-explanatory. And you're soliciting from the Entrance Hall – why?"

Playing along, James heaved a long-suffering sigh and pointed to his feet. "I am the victim, Evans, of a rather powerful sticking charm and a severe lack of creativity."

"I've no doubt you deserve it."

"I've no doubt you're correct."

Lily glanced up at the mistletoe. "I've no doubt you'd like me to kiss you."

"Evans, you've found me out."

James watched, entranced, as a smile curled its way across Lily's face. Her eyes were glinting wicked green. Forgetting all about the sticking charm, he tried to take a step forward and nearly toppled over.

"Careful, Potter," murmured Lily, who had offered neither hand nor help. Something in her words, her voice, removed what balance James had recovered. He stared wordlessly into teasing green eyes, barely managing to breath. Yesterday, he'd have said a kiss was out of the question. Today…

Slowly, so slowly, Lily began to lean in. James let his eyes fall shut, body thrumming in anticipation. When Lily's voice breathed hot in his ear, his fingernails dug reflexively into his palms.

"You wouldn't want to come off as desperate, now, would you?"

And then she was gone.

James eyes flashed open. Lily was already halfway across the Entrance Hall, practically strutting towards the marble staircase. Just managing to suppress a groan of frustration, of disappointment, of appreciation, James forcibly unclenched his fists and turned to meet Sirius' knowing smirk.

"You bastard," James said in greeting, punching the arrogant prat in the shoulder with less force than the sentiment intended.

Sirius' grin merely widened. "Merry Christmas, Prongs. Couldn't leave you all bored, now, could I?"

"Padfoot, you are a predictable bastard," said James, heart racing up those stairs after Lily, "but you're all I've got, so go on and kiss me before the mistletoe eats my soul."

"I thought you'd never ask."

Boring, they were not.

Thanks for reading!

xx Froody