monsoon ⚣ wolfstar ✓

ii

James swirls his tongue around the cherry popsicle, his eyes wrinkled in the corners with a grin. Remus watches him, ignoring his own grape popsicle melting and the sticky juice dripping down his hand.

"Hey," James says, licking his lips. They're redder than usual, which Remus hadn't thought possible. "Your pop's melting."

Remus' dreamy thoughts are snapped back to reality and he quickly looks back at his hand. He scowls and licks the juice off. James laughs, and Remus is brought back to his lovesick spaceland full of fairy lights and peppermint tea.

James had called popsicles pops since Remus met him a year ago. He found it childish at first, but the word soon became as close as home and sweaters.

"Anyway," James says. He crosses his legs and shifts how he's sitting.

They're on the cement steps in front of Remus' house. There's three of them, and Remus sits on the second one. James sits on the top one. He's much shorter than the lighter-haired boy, and their eyes are at the same level.

It's a strangely warm day for early fall, and despite the temperature fog surrounds them. Remus can't see more than five houses down the street, and everything about the weather is making him feel mysterious and sleepy inside.

"What do you think of my lipstick?" James asks. He slathers the popsicle all over his lips and purses them, his eyes shining. Remus rolls his eyes but smiles in exasperation.

"Very nice," he says, licking some juice off the side of his own. "I'd like to kiss you."

The words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them, and a small gasp follows them. His stomach twists in fear and all of a sudden the temperature seems to drop.

He feels his face pale and looks away, squeezing his eyes shut and starting to stammer out an apology, but James just grins.

"Rock paper scissors?"

Remus opens his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows in slight confusion, but James just grins and holds the popsicle between his teeth by the stick, holding his hands out.

The taller boy forces a small, relieved smile and holds the popsicle the same way.

"Rock, paper, scissors!" James yells, and he holds out scissors. Remus has paper.

He never would beat James, anyway.