49 for Prongsfoot! (because I suspect the answer is yes and it might get angsty haha <3)
49. Does either of them have a hard time being away from the other?
This question was written for them, anon dear, whether it’s platonic or romantic I don’t think anybody is as obsessive and codependent as these two.
Send me an OTP question from the list and a ship and I’ll respond with a drabble.
One, two, four, six--
James keeps counting the sounds of the clacks the sole of his boot makes as he taps it against the cold tiles of the platform floor, because if he lets his mind wander off that and allows his thoughts to take over, he might actually end up accidentally lighting up on fire the handle of the trolley tightly clutched in his hand.
He raises a hand to take off his glasses, wipes them against the hem of his jumper, and puts them back on again, for the third time in the past ten minutes; not because they’re dirty, or because their position on the bridge of his nose is bothering him, but just so he has something to do while the last minutes before the train’s leave tick away, painfully slowly, feeling like actual hours.
The train gives another loud chug - the third, final one.
“James, jaan,” his mother prompts gently with a light squeeze of his shoulder, “you’ll miss the train.”
Missing the train is the last thing he could care about right now. He scans the platform once more, eyes desperately searching for a familiar figure, the same one he’s been looking out for since the second they stepped foot on the platform. He is yet to find it.
He blinks, shakes his head, breathes out, forces himself to pull on a smile for his parents as he leans up to kiss them goodbye one last time, and heads for the train.
“Have you seen him?” He asks as soon as he slides the door of their usual compartment open. He kicks himself internally for feeling as disappointed as he does to only find Remus and Peter inside, and can only hope that it does not show on his face.
Remus shakes his head, which does not help the anxiety he’s feeling in his chest. He can’t shake off the feeling that something is wrong.
“He probably got here early and went to change,” Peter says nonchalantly, eyes focused on the new Charms textbook in his hand. “He’ll catch up soon.”
James huffs and flops down on the opposite side of the bench. He does not sit by the window like he usually does, only so he can keep an eye on the door, gaze darting sideways every time he feels someone pass down the corridor.
They are over twenty minutes into the ride, and James is ready to actually get up and start blowing out doors, one by one, when Sirius finally shows up. The door slides aside and he pushes through smoothly, already in his school robes, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers and hair pushed up in a messy bun, wand holding it together in place.
“Hey,” he greets them with a smile, almost a little shily. “Y’alright?”
He does not get to let out much more than that before James bolts up to his feet, crossing the small space between them in two swift strides to pull him into a tight, borderline bruising hug. It feels like a breath of fresh air, one he hasn’t gotten in a very long while. Like a piece of him that’s been missing the past two months has been finally put back into place again.
Sirius stills for a second before his arms come up to wrap around his shoulders in return. James feels the tension in his body stiffen for a moment before it’s gone, and he allows himself to relax, melting into the touch as James pulls him in closer to his chest.
He pulls back only so he can take in the other’s appearance properly, keeping his hands on the sides of Sirius’ shoulders as he pulls away to do a double check, scanning the other’s body religiously to make sure that everything is in place just the way he remembers it, not a scratch in sight and not a hair out of place.
“You haven’t answered any of my letters.” He blurts out, and it comes out sounding more accussing than he intended.
“Yeah, er- there was a bit of a, uh. Situation. Back at home.” Sirius leans back against the glass of the compartment door and raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. He looks up at James and his lips quirk up in an apologetic grin.
But most importantly, he looks fine. He looks okay, and well, and healthy. They can talk about everything else later, but this is the only thing he can focus on at the moment. James is overwhelmed by the urge to never let him out of his sight for another minute again, the whole world be damned.
He reaches out a hand to tug on Sirius’ sleeve and pulls him in for another embrace. It’s gentler this time, a little calmer but every bit just as desperate in the way they cling to each other like they have not seen each other for two years instead of two months.
“I missed you every day.” James whispers into his hair.
“I know. Me too, Prongs.”
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