"You said if I got at least five OWLs, you'd do it," said Harry, arms crossed over his chest and his OWL results clutched in one fist. "You said!"

"I know, Harry, I know," said James, shaking his head and thinking, not for the first time, if only Lily were here she'd have prevented him from making such a stupid promise. Actually, having her around would probably have kept the issue from coming up at all. But it had been just them for so long that Harry thought of James more like a beloved older friend than a father. "It's just.... I am your father; are you sure this is what you want?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, I'm just arguing about it because I'm going to change my mind as soon as we get started," he said sarcastically.

"You've been spending too much time in Snape's class," said James darkly, sulking at Harry's tone.

Harry stepped forward, skin golden in the morning light, pyjamas hung enticingly low on his thin hips. He'd grown up differently than James, more compact and slender than James -- a Seeker rather than a Chaser, sleek and fast. "I know you want to," said Harry, running a hand down his chest, making his nipples tighten and peak. "I've seen the way you look at me. You're doing it now."

"I shouldn't," said James, chest constricting as he turned away. Other things were expanding, as they had for far too long around Harry and Harry's undeniable curiosity. He knew he'd spoiled the boy, but he'd never realized how much until the first time Harry had kissed him.

If he couldn't think of a way to convince Harry otherwise, today would be the second time, and they'd be doing a lot more than kissing.

"Would you rather I Floo over to Uncle Sirius? I'm sure he and Remus would just love to take me in hand," said Harry petulantly, stepping up and rubbing his warm front all along his father's back.

"No!" said James, turning around, catching hold of Harry's forearms. "No," he said, realizing too late that this put him face to face with Harry's seductive little pout, Harry's bare chest, warm skin, and burgeoning erection. Still, it wasn't until Harry's arms slipped around his waist that he knew he was totally lost.

"Yes," said Harry softly, leaning in, leaning up, hovering his lips next to James' not so much asking permission as teasing around the issue of it. "Teach me, daddy," he said, breath warm as it caressed James' lips. "Teach me how to love."

James felt as though he'd been hypnotised, his son turned into some sort of incubus sent to make him fall, turning Harry's skin to silk under his hands as they found their way up the smooth young back, turning Harry's lips so very soft and pliant for his tongue to plunder, his mouth to ravage. "You already love me," he whispered between kisses, but he already knew it wouldn't be enough, not for him, or his beautiful son.

They stood in the sunlit kitchen for what seemed like hours, learning the way of kissing as though they were both teenagers, as though James was back in his own youth instead of stealing a heady draught of Harry's. James learned the new contours of Harry's body, reminded of a thousand things that warmed him from the core, of holding Sirius like this once upon a time, holding Remus' fragile body to his own a time or two. Holding Harry in his arms as he grew from strange, wriggling baby into this fey, demanding creature.

"I do love you," said Harry softly, hands finding their way up beneath James' shirt, "but now I want more." He began to unbutton, deft where James felt clumsy and fumbling, until the shirt fluttered to the floor. "You promised."

James couldn't help but laugh at that, Harry bringing up his promise again as though he had any intention of backing out anymore, anything like the willpower to refuse again. "I promised," he whispered, taking a step backwards and rewarding Harry with another kiss when he followed. "I love you, too, Harry," he added, almost as an afterthought because, in his world, it just went without saying.

"I know, Dad," said Harry, giving him a nudge until he stepped back again, and again. Until they were in James' bedroom, the bed hitting the backs of his legs, all out of floor and excuses, well past the point of no return. "Show me everything," Harry whispered, stepping back and stripping off completely.

James allowed himself a moment to admire the fine young man his son had grown into, all compact muscle and lean strength, elegant lines and graceful motion. His eyes were drawn inevitably downward to Harry's cock, thick and short where it jutted out like a challenge from wiry black hair, the foreskin nearly pulled back from the head just by Harry's excitement. He stripped out of his own clothing, then pulled Harry back into his arms, feeling their pricks stroke and caress over one another, his own longer than Harry's, with only the slit peeking out to kiss up against the wet head of Harry's cock.

"God, Dad," Harry moaned, melting into him, all traces of his earlier petulance vanished now that he was getting what he wanted. "Knew you'd be good at this," he murmured, pressing his mouth to James' in an untutored kiss, sloppy but sincere.

James grinned and slid his hands down Harry's back to cup the rounded arse and said, "That's because you've been talking to Sirius."

Harry's eyes went wide and he pulled back, and James nearly slapped his forehead. "You... and Uncle Sirius? But what about Uncle Remus?"

"Him, too," said James, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "Not often, but... I get lonely sometimes, Harry." He watched Harry's face carefully for any sign of anger or betrayal, but instead the heat flared back up in those wide green eyes, twice as strong as before.

"Next time," Harry growled, pressing himself to his father with a sensuous little wriggle, "I want to come, too."

James gave a low groan at that, the very grown up tone of Harry's voice and the silken slide of Harry's skin against his own. The image of Harry sandwiched between himself and Sirius, between Sirius and Remus, the focus of all their attentions and drowning in it. "Me first," he growled right back, a part of him shocked at how jealous the idea made him that someone, even someone he loved, might touch his Harry.

Harry laughed and James growled again, wordlessly this time as he swept the boy up into his arms and tossed him onto the bed where he lay, tousled and grinning, legs spread invitingly. "You first," Harry agreed, laying back and stretching, his arms overhead and body arched up in shameless offering.

Tired of their word games, James covered Harry's smaller form with his own, one hand going up to hold Harry's wrists firmly to the pillows, the other slipping down Harry's side to cup and caress one bony hip. He lowered his mouth to Harry's slowly, watching Harry's expression slide from playful to needy, challenging to wanton. Their lips met, and the kiss this time was practiced and sensual, taking instead of giving, allowing Harry no control at all as he ravaged the soft mouth.

A low moan built in Harry's chest, and James drank it down along with the taste of Harry's innocence. He wanted so much he didn't know what to do next, filled with desire like the hunger of a starving man, and Harry spread out beneath him like a feast. "Tell me what you want," he said, brushing his lips over Harry's as he spoke, unwilling to lose the contact entirely.

"Everything," Harry breathed, and James bit his lip with a little growl, then kissed it better while Harry giggled. "Suck me?" he asked, rubbing his cock up against James' sensitive erection.

"Yes," James replied, the word half-groaned at the very idea of being the first to taste Harry's sweet release. He kissed Harry one more time, then slid down his body, not even bothering to stop until he was faced with Harry's lovely, curving prick and heavy, full bollocks. He'd explore the rest later; once he'd made Harry writhe the obvious way, he'd do it again in more subtle ways.

"Please," Harry whimpered, his cock giving a little jump as if to leap into James' mouth of its own accord.

James didn't even bother to answer, just breathed deeply of Harry's scent and then licked a stripe of wetness from balls to tip and back again, gathering Harry's taste to savour. "Patience," he chided when Harry's hips thrust up helplessly, grinning wickedly as he took one of the fuzzy balls into his mouth and sucked ever so gently, caressing the soft, wrinkled skin with his tongue, tasting the warm salt of sweat and the delicate musk of Harry's desire. He sucked the other one in next to it, stretching his lips wide to roll them both on his tongue.

"Dad," Harry moaned, the word sounding so very obscene with James' mouth full of his son's bollocks.

Rather than reply, James sucked a little harder, then pulled back until Harry's sac was stretched taut before letting his tender balls slide free. "Son," he said roughly, licking his way back up Harry's cock, his tongue teasing under the edge of Harry's foreskin and up into the slit before taking the whole head into his mouth like a ripe cherry, lapping at the juice that welled up from the centre.

Harry lost the ability to form whole words then, the sounds of his cries filling James' ears like the sweetest music. James took Harry in completely, one hand sliding up a boyishly lean thigh to cup and toy with the damp balls, rolling and tugging them while he sucked Harry's cock with all the skill he could muster. Harry's prick filled his mouth with a satisfying weight, the length comfortable in his throat, the girth just enough to strain his jaw, making him work harder for his goal.

It didn't take much, not that he'd expected it to the first time, and soon Harry was shaking, falling apart at the seams as his prick pulsed in James' mouth, spilling creamy, bitter seed onto his father's tongue. James pulled back enough to taste it, always surprised at the strong taste and how much he enjoyed it. He swallowed, feeling it soothe his throat, sucking just a bit longer in case there was more before he pulled away and moved up and over Harry once again, brushing his lips questioningly against Harry's.

Harry kissed him eagerly, his whole body gone lax now that he'd come, eyes heavy-lidded and knowing when James pulled away. "I taste good," he purred, licking a stray drop from the corner of James' mouth. "Do you taste good?" he asked, eyes full of mischief and the warm fire of wanting, banked but not extinguished by the flood of his release.

James laughed, hugging Harry tightly, pressing kisses to his tender throat before whispering in his ear, "Why don't you taste me and find out?"