Sirius hated losing. He liked winning – thoroughly enjoyed it, actually – so when Mary MacDonald rejected him, he swore that he would never experience the disheartening and bitter taste of loss ever again.

However, when his best friend also tasted the awful tang of denial from that pretentious, ginger girl, he promised himself he would help his best friend win, too.

Only, the ginger girl was stubborn; more stubborn than him, Sirius thought, though he would never say it out loud. And she was not going to change her answer, and Sirius knew that, and so did James, and so did the whole damned school.

So, Sirius decided he'd help his friend win in a different way.

"She isn't worth it," He'd always say. But James would never listen.

"She's only going to hurt you," He'd scold. But James kept fancying her anyway.

"You should try dating some other birds," He'd suggest. But James never even bothered.

"Stop doing this to yourself – it's mad!" He'd beg. But James kept asking her out anyway.

So finally, when there was one day in which the weekly 'Evans' argument between Sirius and James had become quite a bit too heated, James agreed.

Sirius' jaw slackened, and James glared at him from underneath his specs. "You heard me," he said slowly and evenly, "I'm not going to ask her out ever again." And then he turned his back and said, "You win."

The thing was, Sirius liked winning. Hell, he loved winning. He had finally won the age old battle between James and that red-headed harlot, and he waited for the swelling pride to fill him. Only, it didn't. In fact, something else took its hold in him and began to devour him – shame.

James was not any happier than he was before he agreed to give up his pursuit on Evans. Actually, Sirius noticed, he seemed even downer than when she would blatantly reject him at lunch, or at Heads' meetings, or at Hogmeade. His hazel eyes lost their spark – his smile didn't make his nose crinkle anymore – and his hand stopped traveling to the top of his head to ruffle his hair. It was saddening.

Sirius also noticed that Evans had been glancing at James quite a bit since he stopped with his requests.

But he had won, so why over think it? After a few weeks, James had actually begun to become friends with Evans – they had civil talks over homework, weekly head meetings, and even chose each other for partners in potions since she and that Snape kid were no longer on speaking terms. James never breathed a word about his affection for Evans to Sirius (although clearly, it was still present), and Sirius never brought it up.

He waited for the shame to go away. He wanted the triumph to come already – the glorious wave of success to tumble over him – but it never did. And the monster that resided in him grew, and grew, and he could hardly look James in the eye anymore.

So when Sirius was in the library flirting with some Gryffindor fifth year and he heard Evans muffled protests from the bookcase behind him, he pulled his mouth away from the girl's ear and peered through the missing slots on the shelf.

"Lily, why don't you just ask him out yourself?" That was Mary MacDonald talking (that wench), and Sirius quirked an eyebrow, and when the fifth year bird tried to ask him why he was acting so strangely he placed his hand over her mouth and continued to listen in.

"Is that a joke?" Evans scoffed. "Mary, he hasn't asked me out in months. Months. And he's always with Rebecca Lemay, or the girls from the quidditch team, and…oh, I just can't. He doesn't fancy me anymore."

Sirius' eyes widened a second before Mary revealed the identity of the unknown person, because he knew. He recognized those second-too-long glances from Evans; the way her eyes glowed when he and his best friend entered the room; the way she slowly began to do her hair before Heads' meetings, or started wearing that flowery perfume, or started undoing the top button of her uniform shirt. He just knew.

"James Potter is not involved with Rebecca Lemay! She's dating Liam Thomas, and James is way too noble to fool around with a taken girl." Mary said, twirling a piece of her dark hair on her finger. The fifth year behind Sirius huffed and removed his hand from her mouth before turning away But Sirius barely noticed, because for the first time since that fateful day with James, he had felt something other than shame.

"You have to ask her out!" Sirius nearly screamed as he threw open the doors to his dorm. James looked up from the floor, where text books were sprawled around him (although, clearly, he was not actually doing schoolwork, for on his mate's lap was a magazine with a snitch circling around the cover.)

James' eyes flickered behind his specs, and Sirius stomach gave a slight lurch. "Pardon?"

"Evans." Once the unspoken, tabooed subject of the girl, that girl, left Sirius' lips, James leapt up from his place on the floor.

"Are you barking mad?" James said, squinting at his mate's face, before poking him in the cheek. "Oi, you ill?"

"Cut it off, will you?" Sirius snapped, swatting his hand away, because it was so bloody brilliant and James just didn't understand… "I'm perfectly fit, and completely right."

James cracked a smile. "You sure, Padfoot? Because I don't know in what world you think that I still like Lily Evans."

"That's bullocks and you know it." Sirius said, and for good measure, he put both his hands on James' shoulders and said, "You have, quite possibly, been absolutely smitten with that girl since we first met her on the train."

A somber expression crossed James' face, and Sirius continued. "You just need to ask her out, Prongs – "

"You were the one that told me to give it up!" James shouted quite suddenly, his eyes narrowing accusingly at Sirius. "You told me I was an idiot for thinking I had a chance with her, and that she wasn't worth it, and…"

"I, er…" Sirius swallowed, quite literally choking on his pride, as he continued. "I know. But, please. Just, trust me." The shame in his chest was threatening to overcome him, or maybe it was threatening to leave him, but he couldn't tell because either way his heart was beating a bit faster than normal and the adrenaline was pushing through his veins and he was about to lose and it never felt so good.

James licked his lips and shut his eyes, but just for a moment. "I bloody hate you sometimes," he murmured, "I really do." He then he got up and walked over to the door, his hands shaking with nerves, and Sirius sat down on James' bed and watched him leave.

And he waited. For about a half an hour, he stared at the door, waiting, with his fingers drumming on the bed post like an anxious three year old.

James, after around forty minutes, came back into the room. And his hazel eyes sparked – and his nose was crinkling from the huge, lopsided grin on his face – and his hands were tangled into his hair, mussing and ruffling it up and making it so hopelessly messy Sirius' heart swelled.

Sirius didn't even ask. Because he knew. He just knew.

Sirius had lost. But it was okay, because finally, James had won.

A/N Hey guys! Sorry I've been gone for so long…I'll be updating 97 Days soon, but until then, I've got this little one-shot for you.

Happy Reading!

Sunshinesque