Harry Potter, Morning Person

Title: Morning Person [Remus/James]
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: James hates 7 AM Quidditch practice.
AN: Written for the 24-Hour Ficathon. sweetrickitten requested some fluffy Remus/James, which I confess I have never written before. But I was pleased with this.

Morning Person

“7 AM Quidditch practices?” James groaned. “This is a nightmare!”

“Glad I quit the team,” Sirius snorted.

“You didn’t quit, you were kicked off for indecent behavior in the locker room showers,” Peter pointed out.

“Yeah,” Sirius sighed nostalgically, resting his chin on one hand, “yeah, I was…”

“Do you know what time I’ll have to go to breakfast for this?!” James moaned. Peter and Sirius laughed and pointed at him.

“I’ll go with you,” Remus offered.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

“Ha ha,” Sirius finally said. “Good one, Moony.”

“Ha ha nothing, it’s you who’ll being getting up with me,” James told him.

“No bloody way,” Sirius said firmly. “And it’s no good whinging or threatening or anything, there is no way I’m getting up at the arsecrack of dawn for your practices. You get Moony or nothing.”

“Moony it is then,” James said darkly. “You don’t mind, Remus?”

“No, it’s fine,” Remus answered. “I like breakfast.”

* * * * * *

James, who had dressed to the sounds of snoring werewolf for four years now, was shocked to see Remus ready to go to breakfast at 6:30 AM the next morning, looking rumpled, but otherwise awake.

“Didn’t think you’d make it, mate,” he commented as they left the room, casting a longing glance back towards his warm bed.

“Said I would,” Remus shrugged.

Despite his assurances that he liked breakfast, Remus had only tea and some toast while James piled sausages onto his plate. Remus chatted with him until it was time to head out to the pitch, then left James at the door to go back to bed for a few hours before his own classes.

James thought Remus would give up after a few days of this, but Remus stuck it out, ready to go every morning that James was, excepting a few on either side of the full moon. James realized after several mornings that this was the first time he had ever spent any real time with Remus without the others around.

Remus was smart, he found out, not the same kind of intuitive smart that he and Sirius were, but the read-too-many books kind. Remus seemed to know a little about everything, from tea brands to Muggle rock bands, even quite a bit about Quidditch for somebody who didn’t play and possessed no real affection for the sport.

Several weeks passed this way, the mornings got colder and wetter, and Remus exchanged his tea for hot chocolate. James was puzzled to find that his breakfasts with Remus was the part of the day he looked forward to the most. He was even more perplexed during a nocturnal wanking session, when, in the midst of his usual fantasy, Cindy McNeil’s sultry voice whispering naughty things was replaced by Remus’ soft, even voice, the soft hand replaced with a hand with slightly hairier knuckles, and rough callouses on the fingers from writing too much.

One morning in early December, James struggled out of bed half an hour early because of someone knocking on the door. He stumbled to answer it, and was rewarded by the news that practice was cancelled that morning due to snow.

Shuffling over to Remus’ bed, he slipped between the hangings and pushed lightly on Remus’ shoulder.

“Zzuh?” Remus opened one eye. “B’fast already?”

“Cancelled,” James yawned hugely, “snow.”

James let out a small “Eep!” when Remus’ hand shot out of his blankets and yanked James onto the bed by a fistful of pajamas. He let out another “eep” when Remus rolled over on top of him, blankets and all, but this one was swallowed into Remus’ mouth.

Sometime later, warmly snuggled in blankets that smelled wonderfully of sleepy werewolf, James grinned over at Remus.

“What?” Remus asked.

“We’re missing breakfast,” James answered.

“Can I tell you something?” Remus leaned close enough that their lips were nearly touching.

James nodded, breathless.

“I hate breakfast.”