daydream ' james potter

19 - pretty

19

Mickey unties his boots and leaves them on the back porch as per Mrs. Potter's instructions. One thing Mickey has noticed since living with the Potters is that they keep a pretty clean house. Mickey's dirty practice clothes don't really work with that. There are lots of mornings he spends practicing, and when he comes inside, he discards all of his outer layers in the mud room and tosses them in the wash.

He bounds up the stairs and bursts into James' room. He loves waking James up every morning. One could say it's his favorite thing to do, along with his morning quidditch practice. He's tried to get James to join him before, but the boy likes his beauty sleep.

Not that he needs it.

But James is so cute and innocent looking in the morning. His hair is extra messy, and he always wears the coziest sweaters that Mickey likes to steal in the morning. "Wake up, Jimbo!"

"No," James groans, face buried in his pillow. "It's the weekend."

"But you're spending the night with Remus tonight and I want to spend time with you." Mickey jumps onto James' bed and curls into his side.

He presses his forehead against James' and then kisses his nose. "Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up! I'm cold, I'm cold, I'm cold, I'm cold—"

"Okay," James mutters, poking Mickey in the stomach until he gets a giggle out of the smaller boy. James smiles at the sound and shimmies out of his sweater. "Wear this and get under the covers, or shut up."

"I can't get under the covers, I have dirt on my face and arms. Your mom doesn't like dirt." Mickey slips the sweater over his head and pokes James' cheek.

"Let's not tell her," James says. He grabs Mickey around the waist and flips him over, covering the two of them with his blanket before Mickey can object.

"James!" Mickey laughs. He cups James' cheeks with his sweater-sleeves and grins. "You need to get up!"

"No," James pouts. He blinks blearily at Mickey, and his hazel eyes look particularly beautiful in the morning sunlight. The blinds cast shadows over James' face, and his skin seems to glow golden in front of Mickey.

His eyelashes are abnormally long, and Mickey thinks it's a bit unfair that James can look so lovely so effortlessly. "You're very pretty," Mickey murmurs, eyes trailing across James' face. "Did you know?"

"Stop—!" James whines, obstructing his face from Mickey's view.

Mickey can see how red James' neck is, and it makes Mickey feel proud. "You're really pretty. Like, extremely handsome. I bet every single person that looks at you falls in love— aha! You're red again!"

"And you're a little shit," James quips. He tickles Mickey until he's squirming and and giggling into the sheets.

"I'm sorry! Ah, I'm sorry!" Mickey laughs into James chest. He grabs James' biceps and squeezes them hard. "Stop it, you dolt!"

James stops tickling Mickey. He leans forward and presses a kiss against Mickey's cheek. "Now go to sleep. Just for an hour, okay? We can do whatever you want then, but let's sleep now."

"Okay." Mickey turns around. When James wraps his arm around his waist and pulls him flush against his body, he sighs in contentment. "See you in an hour."

James nuzzles his face into the crook of Mickey's neck. "Thank you."

-

"Why are you doing that?" James drags a hand over his face and sighs at Mickey.

Mickey, who is currently using a pair of Mrs. Potter's craft scissors to cut one of his t-shirts in half, looks up and grins. "I want a crop top."

"It's raining outside!" James argues fruitlessly.

"Who said I'm wearing it outside?" Mickey winks at James.

"You stress me out," James concludes. He looks around his room for anything to distract him from Mickey's bare midriff. He spots his shopping bag from Hogmeade a few months ago. "Oh! I forgot! I got you a gift!"

Mickey's eyes light up, and he places the scissors down.

Thank God, James thinks. He extracts the lavender nail polish out of the shopping bag and holds it up for Mickey to see. "I saw this and thought of you, but I haven't had the chance to give it to you."

Mickey accepts the small vial and gives James a teasing grin. "Really, Jimbo? That's a bit soft."

You make me soft, James wants to retort. Instead, he puts up his defense. "Well, it made me think of that sweater you own."

Mickey twists open the bottle. "Can I paint my nails here? Will your parents be upset?"

"Nah," James waves his concerns away. "Sirius and my mom used to go get manicures like, all the time. Worst case scenario, she'll make you share."

Mickey chuckles. "I like your mom."

"Me too," James' gaze softens as he watches Mickey clumsily pull out the brush. "Hey, can I paint them? Like, if you don't mind? I might mess them up, but I've never painted anyone's nails before."

Mickey taps his chin, and James can tell he's pretending to think about it. "Well, only since you're a painter."

"Cool," James says. He wipes his palms on his jeans and sits across from Mickey on the floor.

Mickey offers him his hand, and James accepts it. His heart stutters a bit at the warmth that seems to flow from Mickey's fingertips to his own. He wonders if Mickey will every stop having such an effect on him.

They've been affectionate with each other for so long, it has molded itself into their daily routine. And yet, James still isn't sure where his place is in Mickey's heart.

But he can think about that later. For now, he swallows his feelings down and begins to paint Mickey's nails. "What're you gonna do while I'm gone?"

"Probably practice some more," Mickey says. "Help with dinner... I don't know."

James brushes the lavender polish across Mickey's thumbnail. "I'm sorry you can't come. I promise there's a good reason."

"Hang out with your friends, Jimbo. Don't worry about me, alright? I'm sure they miss you."

"I miss them," James says, honestly. He hopes tonight will go well, and Remus will be too tired to really fight with them. But who knows.

He's ready to see his boys.

-

fluff dump :P