James thought he was being subtle.

The stolen glances, the extra-long Quidditch practices when he knew you'd be watching, the way he went completely red every time you said his name with that slight lilt in your voice. He was convinced no one had caught on.

Except… Remus raised an eyebrow every time James fixed his hair in the corridor you walked through.

Sirius kept nudging him under the table during meals when you walked by.

And Peter—well, Peter just giggled every time James muttered your name in his sleep.

So when you finally kissed him after a late-night walk by the Black Lake, when his hand nervously found yours and you didn’t let go, James felt like he was floating.

Until the next morning.

—“You’re glowing,” Sirius sang, throwing an arm around James’s shoulders.

—“I’m not—”

—“Did they kiss you on the cheek or was it more intense?” Remus asked, completely straight-faced.

—“I—what—I—”

Peter grinned.

—“So… when’s the wedding?”

James groaned and covered his face.

—“I hate all of you.”

But Sirius just smirked and said, “No, mate, you love someone else now. We get it. You’ve been domesticated.”

Remus added, “It’s adorable, really. Tragic. Our little lion is in love.”