mickey einstein just wants to make a name for himself in the quidditch world and move far away from everything and everyone. a certain haughty james potter is getting in the way of that.
[intrigue universe]
[james x male oc]
[james' sixth-seventh ye...
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02 (dedicated to -mrjingles for always commenting.)
It's Friday. There's something about a quidditch game that brings every house together. Really, it's hard to be sworn enemies when you can take turns painting each other's faces instead. This is exactly what most of the students are doing after lunch, since there are only a couple of hours left before the game.
James is in most of his gear by the time he makes his way into the Great Hall. As always, he scans the room for the familiar shock of red hair that is Lily Evans. Lily is sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Marlene, Millie, Demetria, Anita, and Thalia. It looks like she's helping Millie apply makeup onto the girls. Pride wells up in his chest when he notices that they're all using red colors. Even Anita, which is humorous, because she hates James and most anything connected to him.
"Hello, ladies," James drawls, slipping into the empty spot beside Lily. Her hair is tied up in the back, but it still smells of strawberries when she turns her head to mumble a quick greeting. "Ready to root for your favorite chaser, eh?"
Millie scoffs and shoves a black eyeliner pencil into his hand. "Remember that there are five other members to your team, Potter."
James uncaps the pencil and turns his back against Lily's. As against the rules as it is, Millie has a face paint and makeup business before every quidditch game. For a sickle, Millie, James, or Lily would apply makeup or face paint. James used to refuse to be a part of Millie's illegal business, but then Lily agreed, so there was really no other option than joining in on the fun.
Sirius collects the sickles from the other table, so the professors don't suspect any connection. James is so busy applying red face paint to a first year, he doesn't notice the hufflepuff captain handing Sirius a sickle.
Then Mickey is sitting in front of him, and James' gaze is locked on his nose ring and—where on earth he got a nose ring?— the way he's staring at James expectantly. "What are you doing?" he asks.
"What does it look like I'm doing, Jimbo? I'm waiting to get my makeup done." Mickey has a shit-eating grin on his face. His lips keep quirking up and down, as if he wants to hold it in but can't.
James wants to refuse him service. "I can't do makeup for you."
"No," James retorts. He's used to doing boys' makeup. Ever since Millie got Sirius hooked on makeup, he's volunteered James to apply his every morning. James doesn't mind at all, especially because it makes Sirius feel a little more confident to have a bit of mascara on every now and again. James doesn't care that Mickey is a boy; He cares that Mickey is a hufflepuff. "You're the enemy."
