Faking It

'Ohgodohfuckohbloodyhell'

These are the thoughts James' mind is able to string together as he feels his eyes burn. He is almost certain he is being traumatized to the point where he will have nightmares until his dying day. If he is to go hell, which he very well might, this most definitely will be one of the things he will have to relive over and over and over and over and...

A seducing growl reaches his ears, followed soon after by a half-naked Sirius saying...

"C'mon Remus...I don't bite...That is, unless you want me to."

James feels his heart, stomach and all his vital organs simultaneously drop past his feet.

'Nononononoooooo'

This isn't supposed to happen. Switching spells are not supposed to involve shagging your best mate. The best mate who just happens to be a shaggy-haired poofter staying at Remus'....his... house, deprived of sex for God knows how long. The best mate that never told Prongs that he was shagging another Marauder. Ironically, James just happens to be impersonating that particular Marauder. James realizes he's looking pale and nervous and bollocks he's acting just like Moony. Sirius is laughing at him in that tone that Lily used to when...well...when she used to lay in her skivvies on their bed...

Like Sirius is now.

James' brain is on overload.

'JesusBleedingBloodyChrist'

"Moonyyyyy." James looks, in wide-eyed wonder, at Padfoot, who's tracing his finger idly over the bedspread with one of his knees cocked up in the air and...'Spare me' "Come here, Moonyyyy..."

"Uhmmm..." James gulps, throat dry and scratchy as sand paper. Sirius laughs again and Prongs wrings his hands together involuntarily. His feet feel like they weigh seventeen tons. James tries to keep his brain from wondering what puff sex might be like.

'GARBGHBLLLL!!'

Too late.

'Why do my mates have to be god damn sodomites?! Damnit, Moony. Damnit, Padfoot.'

James has suddenly forgotten that he needs to breathe in order to live, gasping out loud. Unfortunately, Sirius seems to have taken this as a gasp of pleasure and is growling again, trying to look seductive .

'My god, I'm about to shag my best mate. Kill me.'

Prongs suddenly regrets remembering how his lungs work, desperate for a way out of this pathetically futile situation.

"Remus Lupin. Come here right now." This time Padfoot is trying to be authoritative...and suddenly James' mind thinks of him in a dominatrix outfit; he nearly bursts into tears. He hates his mind, his dirty perverted mind, the one that betrays him with thoughts of Sirius in a leather bustier and panties, brandishing a whip.

"Uhmmhmm...Uh..." James blushes ('WHYAMIBLUSHING? FUCK!') and laughs nervously. Sirius gazes at him with an obvious desire to jump on and molest the man he thinks is Lupin. If James had any money, which he does not, he would go straight to therapy. However, this being the most hellish moment of his life, it will probably be hidden deep inside his psyche or will inhabit his every thought. Prongs hopes to God it's the first choice. He does not know how long he might last if it were to be the second.

"Re-e-emus." James eyes keep darting between the door, the bed and, 'Killmekillmekillme' Sirius' very exposed crotch. "Moonyyyy." Sirius is finally weary of seeing Remus...James... stand there like a stiff and decides the best course of action is to saunter over to his long-lost lover. He hums idly as his eyes take in the sight of nervous, pallid Moony...er...Prongs.

"Uhm. Hello, there. Um. Padfoot." James realizes his best mate is staring at his lips and that, oh god, he's about an inch away from his face and now about a half an inch and oh god Sirius is kissing him. He becomes even more horrified when he feels a tongue that is, most certainly, not his own. James thinks he might faint. What he does know for sure is that Sirius' breath smells like peppermint. He'll never eat those mint chocolates he likes ever, ever again as long as he lives. Padfoot stops a moment later and looks at James.

"Lupin, I can't shag you when you're standing there like a corpse."

James makes an odd squeaking noise. Sirius lifts his lover's...er...best mate's hand and puts it on his chest. It sits there like a limp noodle. James' eyes are as big as saucers and both of them just stare at it. For once his mind is completely flat-line.

'............'

"...Remus...Are you feeling ok?" Sirius quirks an eyebrow and the hand is still sitting there on his chest. It is quite pathetic looking, really. James minds races, calculating how to get out of this awkward, traumatizing position. He clears his throat, removing his forlorn hand, and looks up pitifully at Sirius.

"No, actually, Pads. I feel sort of ill." Sirius' eyes are suddenly full of concern and James resists the urge to twitch as Padfoot cups his hands on either side of his face. He turns James' head gently and sort of traces his thumb over a scar on the underside of his jaw, without really noticing. It's more familiar to Sirius' intimate knowledge than that of James', who hasn't really paid attention to it even after fourteen years of inhabiting his friend's body. No doubt Sirius knows where it came from...James had never really bothered to keep track of the scars Remus accumulated, though he loved Remus like a brother.

"You look it. You're all pale."

"Hmmmghhh...Yes. Pale, ill, all of that."

"Here, come lay down." James shuffles over to the bed and plops down, feeling utterly relieved. He tries not to show it, all the same. He feels Sirius' hand on the small of his back, slightly more meaningful than he would prefer, but better than the alternative. "I'll go make you some tea. You're not nauseous, are you?"

"N-no. Just really tired...and my head hurts...and...uhm...things of that nature." James coughs randomly and clears his throat. Sirius' big grey eyes are all glassy and nurturing...which would scare Prongs beyond all reason if he hadn't just had that same man's tongue down his throat.

"Well, just rest and I'll be back in a minute..." Sirius suddenly realizes all he has on is his underwear and takes Remus'...James'... bathrobe off the back of the door, wrapping it around himself. James feels the urge to do a celebratory dance at the aspect of not shagging Sirius, but instead decides if he's going to play sick...he should at least do a believable job of it.

"Oh, Sirius?" Padfoot turns around as James bites his lip a little and says, "Sorry we couldn't...um...that I couldn't, y'know, w-welcome you...That sort..." Even if James would rather it never happen, Sirius still deserves something.

'Well, something!'

The shaggy headed man sort of smiles and walks out of the room as James wonders how many minor diseases he's capable of faking.