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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17
Mickey wakes up with a massive headache. He's in Sirius' old room — his room now, he supposes — and there are no curtains, so the morning sun shines all the way through the blinds.
It warms his bare torso, but he could really do without the shine. He doesn't have a hangover (he didn't really drink that much), but he could've done without waking up today altogether.
All the memories of last night come flooding back, and it makes Mickey wish he wasn't trying so hard to give up his smoking. He can't figure out why the universe hates him so much, and why he would be the first one James goes to for a drunk rebound kiss.
He pulls a pair of jeans over his boxers and forsakes the shirt. He trudged into the kitchen and grabs a mug out of the sink. He rinses it out and pours the kettle of black coffee to the brim.
He takes a tentative sip, winces at the bitterness, and then turns around to lean against the counter.
He almost screams.
There's a man sitting at the counter, watching Mickey from over the brim of his newspaper. "You must be Mickey."
Mickey couldn't think of a worse way to greet the dad of his best friend. His best friend that he kind of wants to be more than a best friend. Merlin, he's not doing too hot.
"Hello, you must be Mr. Potter." Mickey reaches a tentative hand out for a shake. "Sorry I am not wearing a shirt. I promise I'm not— I'm not weird or anything."
"Not weird?" Mr. Potter lets out a mellow laugh. "If any of James' friends weren't weird, that's when I'd be nervous. Tell me, Mickey, what do you do?"
"Quidditch, sir." Mickey says. "I'm the Hufflepuff captain."
"Oh, James used to write all the time about you," Mr. Potter says. "Before you two were friends, I guess. Always jealous of you, James."
"Jealous of me?" Mickey scoffs and shakes his head at his coffee.
"That's what it always felt like. Anyway, are you a fan of steak?"
"Steak?"
"I like taking all my boys out for steak dinners," Mr. Potter says, and there's a soft gleam in his eyes. "We catch up and talk about things. I give them my articulated advice. I'd like you to come as well, if you'd like."
"Okay," Mickey says quietly. He still feels a bit unsure, but this man is giving off the same chaotic, kind energy that James has, so he might grow to trust him.
"Did you guys have fun last night?" Mr. Potter winks, and Mickey chokes on his coffee.
"What?" He sputters.
"James is always so quiet when he's hungover. I've never seen anything like it. I tried to get him to have some coffee, but refused."
"It's too bitter," Mickey says, turning around to find another mug. "I'll make him some tea."
