Anything Goes

The music was pounding, the crowd was pulsing, and the definitely-not-spiked punch was flowing like water. The Great Hall was a riot of colour. Mostly black and orange, it had to be admitted, but still colour.
"She's dancing with him," the bespectacled demon in the corner said morosely, and gulped down a large mouthful of punch. He wasn't sure what was in it, but it wasn't strong enough.
"Hm?" The shape of Sirius Black melted out of the throng, complete with very-fake fangs and blood that looked suspiciously like it had been mixed with punch at some point in the not-too-distant past.
The demon pointed. The red was starting to wear off his skin, and his hair was breaking free of its repressive, hair-sprayed state. He looked thoroughly miserable.
"Godric's balls, Potter." Sirius groaned dramatically, slinging one arm around his friend's bare, red-dyed shoulders. "Halloween. Hal-low-een. What's the agreement with Halloween?"
"Anything goes," James droned, sounding thoroughly unenthusiastic.
"Exactly!" Sirius clapped James on the back. "Anything goes! Day off from the Lily-moping-after. C'mon, Prongs, what're you going to do, storm over and punch him in the face? Heh. Punch." He waved his glass at James, who looked like he was about to do just that. "Let me have a quick word with you about... oh, Merlin, don't start." Lazily, he snapped out a hand to grab James' wrist. "Amnesty night. You can kill him tomorrow. C'mon, Horny, let's dance."
"Horny?" James repeated incredulously, but he let Sirius drag him onto the heaving dancefloor, as far away from Lily and whatever boy it was she was dancing with as he could possibly engineer.
He had to admit, Sirius was a bloody good dancer. He could even ignore Lily for a moment, because this was actually fun - funny, anyway. Like it should be. Completely silly. Grinding up against each other, Sirius doing his little strip-tease wiggle and undoing another button on his ruffled shirt, both of them laughing like drains.
Brilliant.
Great.
Until two things struck him.
The first was the sudden realisation that Sirius' tight dragonskin trousers were bulging, and that there was something hard rubbing up against his thigh.
The second, as his laughter petered out, was Sirius' mouth, closing over his. It tasted of punch and firewhiskey and someone else's lipstick, and it took a moment before James collected himself enough to shove his friend away, gasping for breath. "Pads!" he said, and he sounded so much like the star of some black-and-white comedy reel that he burst out laughing again.
Sirius wasn't laughing. He looked slightly sick, as though he couldn't believe what he'd just done, but at the same time, the high colour in his cheeks couldn't just come from the alcohol, could it?
"Prongs," he said, a little hoarsely, and grabbed James' wrist. "Prongs, listen..."
"Pads..." James sighed, and then he was towing his friend through the dancers, thoughts churning in his head.
Sirius had kissed him. Sirius. Had kissed him. This wasn't going... it couldn't... he wasn't going to let that happen! Not even if Sirius looked startlingly sexy in his half-undone shirt, with his hair messy and his skin slick from dancing. Not even if the kiss had been surprisingly good, in James' admittedly limited sphere of experience. Not even if there was an answering heat in James' own groin. Not even then, because this was Sirius, his best friend, his nearly-brother...
"Pads..." he said again, dragging Sirius out of the Hall and out of sight down a corridor. "Pads, you can't just..."
"Please," Sirius said hoarsely, and there was real want in his voice, a real, aching need that James recognised all too well. "Please, Jamie. Once. Please." Then, in sudden inspiration, "It's Halloween, Jamie. Anything goes." He was breathing heavily, his mostly-bare chest heaving under the open-necked shirt, sweat-slicked and shiny under the flickering candlelight in the corridor.
"Anything goes..." James repeated quietly, slowly becoming aware that he still had hold of Sirius' wrist, and that his heart was beating faster than it should be.
And then, without him quite knowing why, they were kissing again, fiercely and almost angrily, and he had both Sirius' wrists in his hand now, not just one, and he was pressing Sirius' back up against the wall, his tongue pushing past Sirius' fake fangs, his bare chest pushed up against Sirius' ruffled shirt. His free hand snaked around the back of Sirius' neck, his fingers tangling in that gorgeously fine hair as he pulled the other boy close. Through the tight fabric of their trousers, their erections chafed against each other. He heard Sirius moan.
Letting go of the animagus' wrists, but not his lips, James fumbled for the remaining buttons of Sirius' shirt with both hands, blood rushing deafeningly in his ears as he groaned frustration against Sirius' lips. Too slow - too fucking slow!
At last, he managed to undo the last of the buttons, with an irritating awkwardness absolutely at odds with the ferocity of their kiss, and pulled back, panting, for long enough to let Sirius pull the shirt the rest of the way off. The break in the kiss seemed to bring his sense back to him for a moment. Heart thudding, trousers painfully tight, James put one hand to his kiss-bruised lips and took a step back, shaking.
"Pads... Pads, we can't just..."
"Why not?" There were high points of colour on Sirius' cheeks, and he looked thoroughly dishevelled. "Jamie, why not? I want to. You want to. Why not?" When James didn't answer, Sirius took another step forwards, then another, and now it was James who was pressed up against the wall, Sirius' face a few inches from his own as the grey-eyed boy panted for breath. "You can pretend it's Lily, if you want, you can tell me to go away and I will, but please, Prongs, please!"
"I don't want you to go away," James said eventually, shaking his head. It was cold in the corridor, and his bare arms were starting to goosepimple. "I don't... I just... oh, Merlin, Pads." He almost laughed. "Why do you always have to make things complicated?"
Sirius did laugh, quietly, beaming, and leant forwards, hesitantly now, to lock his lips up against James'. For a few moments, the kiss was gentle and almost chaste, then, with a little moan, Sirius suddenly pressed closer, his mouth opening, deepening the kiss as one hand cupped James' arse and the other fumbled with the short-haired Marauder's fly. James sighed up against Sirius' mouth, his hands running busily over the Beater's muscular chest, flat-palmed, open, tracing contours he'd seen a thousand times, in the showers after a match, in the dorm, outside on a hot day - seen over and over, time and again, but not like this, never like this.
And then Sirius' slim, long-fingered hand closed around his throbbing erection, and he groaned again, almost biting down on Sirius' tongue, winding his arms around Sirius to pull him close. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sex, and he felt a few drops of precome leak out onto Sirius' hand as those fingers closed on his hard cock.
"You're gorgeous," Sirius moaned breathlessly, pulling back for a moment. "Oh, Merlin, Jamie, you're gorgeous..." He was undoing his own fly with his free hand, freeing his own pulsing erection, and James sighed quietly, breathlessly. He could see why girls went mad for Sirius, he really could. If it weren't for Lily...
And then Sirius wasn't up against him any more; he was down on his knees, pulling out his fake fangs, and before James' half-disconnected mind could work out what was going on, Sirius' hand was gone from his cock, replaced by his mouth. A hand-job was one thing - that was just wanking, really, wasn't it? It had at least felt familiar, not completely alien, but this? Sirius' tongue was lapping up and down James' painfully hard erection, practiced and smooth and doing wicked things to that aching heat. Letting out an embarassingly loud moan - he was sure they could hear it in the Hall - James clenched his fists in Sirius' hair, his knees going weak. It was suddenly difficult to breathe; he collapsed back against the wall, shuddering from head to foot.
Sirius seemed to be having similar difficulties; James was intimately aquainted with what Sirius' breath was doing, and it was short and sharp, coming in little gasps that ran the length of James' erection. One hand was on the inside of James' thigh, the fingertips doing something indescribable to James' balls, while the other was closed around Sirius' own erection, stroking in slow, practiced movements that almost matched the long strokes of Sirius' tongue against James' cock.
He went on lapping and sucking even when James came, back arched up against the wall and with a name on his lips that could have been Sirius and could have been Lily and could have been nothing at all. A little of James' come leaked out from between his lips, looking like an obscene parody of the fake blood already dribbled there, and he smiled crookedly, his hand speeding its ministrations. Looking at that smile, at the saliva trailing along his cock when Sirius finally let it fall from between his lips, at the way Sirius' face contorted in ecstasy when he came a moment later, James could forget Lily and the party and all his doubts.
This was Halloween, after all. And what was the first rule of Halloween?
Anything goes.