Chapter Text
Remus prided himself on knowledge. Silently. He'd never start bragging about his good grades outright, but if it would piss James off, he'd do it all the time. It was just too easy—James, the ever-confident, ever-reckless Gryffindor, absolutely hated being second-best at anything. And if Remus could get under his skin with a well-timed remark about his essay marks, well, that was just a bonus.
This time, though, he held back. Mostly because James really did need to study, and if Remus wanted to avoid another incident of James dramatically throwing his Potions textbook across the dormitory, he had to take a different approach. He bit his tongue against any smug remarks and instead tapped his quill against the open Charms textbook in front of them.
"Alright, let’s go over this again," Remus said, trying to keep his voice even. "The Wand-Lighting Charm—"
"Is incredibly dull," James interjected, chin propped on his hand, staring at Remus in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with Charms.
Remus sighed. "Yes, well, some of us actually care about passing our exams."
James hummed noncommittally. He hadn’t turned a page in fifteen minutes. He hadn't even picked up his quill. "D’you know you do this thing with your nose when you're concentrating? Sort of scrunch it up a bit? It’s adorable."
Remus blinked. Heat crept up his neck. "What?"
James grinned lazily, completely unbothered by Remus’s bewilderment. "Your nose," he repeated, gesturing vaguely at Remus’s face. "You scrunch it up like this—" He attempted to demonstrate, which just made him look utterly ridiculous.
Remus groaned, dropping his forehead onto the textbook. "Merlin, help me."
"Nah, I think you’ve got it all wrong, Moony." James leaned in, and Remus could hear the smirk in his voice. "Merlin sent me to help you."
Remus lifted his head just enough to glare at him. "You're insufferable."
"And yet, here we are," James said breezily, still looking at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world.
Remus could feel his resolve slipping. He hated how easily James could do this—turn a study session into some kind of game, making Remus forget why he was even annoyed in the first place. He hated it even more that he didn’t really mind.
"If you actually studied, I wouldn't have to be here," Remus pointed out, though his voice had lost most of its edge.
James tilted his head. "Oh? So you don't want to be here with me?" He pouted theatrically, but there was something softer underneath it, something that made Remus’s breath catch.
He looked away, feigning exasperation. "I want to finish this session before sunrise, if that counts for anything."
James chuckled, finally—finally—picking up his quill. "Alright, alright. But only if you promise not to get too distracted staring at my beautiful face."
Remus didn’t dignify that with a response. He did, however, let James get away with brushing their knees together under the table. Just this once.