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James whispered a drying spell as they came in from the rainy night, leaving only a few telltale drops on his parents' kitchen floor.
"My legs are still wet," muttered Sirius, coming up close behind him, breath tickling James's neck.
James smiled. "Maybe denim needs a stronger charm."
"I think not." Sirius laughed softly, batting James's hand away as they made their way through the darkened house. "Don't go pointing that thing at my bollocks..."
Up to James's room, and as Sirius peeled off his blue jeans and kicked them aside, he flashed James a wry, familiar and inviting grin.
