just lovers like we were supposed to be

ACT ONE: Part one

Author's Note:

okay, okay, so.

this idea was something i came up with on twt and have been writing for a bit. a couple of things:

one, these characters are teenagers, so they will talk about shagging and stuff, but there will be nothing explicit because im uncomfy writing it when they're teenagers.

two, voldemort is simply Not A Thing in this fic. the war? nonexistent. death eaters? not a thing either. i just didn't feel like writing it into this one. it's still set in the wizarding world, so some things are similar/referenced, but that's it.

a big theme of this fic is the exploration of being queer, learning to accept it and normalizing it. i don't want to hear that it's unrealistic for people to be queer, or for people to be accepting of queer people, because this is set in the 70s. queer people have always existed, and i simply won't argue about that.

that being said, it's mildly explored how being queer publicly can affect someone at this time period (and still today), but im not writing slurs or hate crimes because i simply do not want to. this is a fictional world where they wave sticks around. if i decide they can form a queer club, who's to stop me? 🤷🏻

anyways, this is mostly just cute and funny, and im enjoying writing it. they're all dumb, but in the way that you cant help but love them. <3

***

When James Potter was eleven years old-about three quarters of the way through his first year at Hogwarts-he came to the simple and unshakable conclusion that he was, and would always be, in love with Lily Evans. Most eleven year old boys were disgusted by the idea of fancying girls, but most eleven year old boys didn't have Euphemia and Fleamont Potter for parents, which meant they didn't grow up idolizing the greatest love story known and unknown to man.

Because he was eleven years old, this conclusion meant that James knew with equally simple and unshakable faith that he and Lily would end up together. He had planned their wedding out from start to finish in grand detail by the time he was twelve. He was, of course, courteous enough to share this with Lily, who did not at all appreciate it, but that was alright, because James knew she'd change her mind one day.

Things are starting to get a little dicey in his seventh year, though. It's their last year, he's nearly eighteen years old, while he and Lily have come far from her despising him to her liking him, she still has no interest in him whatsoever.

It's not as if he hasn't tried absolutely everything. He's exhausted literally every option. He tried impressing her (Peter's advice), only to make an arse of himself more often than not. He tried pretending she didn't exist (Sirius' advice), but she seemed more grateful than anything. He tried just getting to know her and be her friend first (Remus' advice), but that just made them friendly and has gotten them essentially nowhere in the romance department.

He's back to the drawing board, so to speak.

„You know what it is?" Peter asks thoughtfully, sprawled sideways on his bed with his head hanging upside down off the edge. He's been doing this since first year, because he swears it helps him think.

„No, Pete, that's the problem," James complains.

Peter squints, then says, rather decisively, „She's just not into you, mate."

„Yes, I know that," James grumbles, „but my point is that she could be! She would if-if-"

„If?" Sirius prompts from Remus' bed, because he always sprawls in it the evening after a full. He has been for years now, consistently, because he thinks it's an injustice that Remus would ever come back from the Hospital Wing and slide into a cold bed. Sirius ‚keeps it warm' for him.