Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.
A/N: This isn't properly British.
Remus feels terrible lying to Sirius. He really does. But it's the only way to slip away from the group. The marauders don't go to Hogsmeade alone; it just isn't done. He tells them he just needs some fresh air and some time to really think about his History of Magic essay, and at the mention of homework, they all scatter.
Remus drops his heavy bag underneath the table a quarter of an hour later, taking a seat in the back in one of the more secluded booths. Regulus always suggests the Hog's Head, and Remus understands why. He's not sure which of them Sirius would pummel more if he found out the truth—Remus for betraying Gryffindor by seeing a Slytherin, or Regulus for daring to speak to one of Sirius' friends. Only, Remus thinks that treating Slytherins like less than human is as bad as what they do to Muggleborns, and he's always felt Sirius should treat his younger brother better regardless of what house he's in. Regulus is, after all, a perfectly nice person, and he gives Remus a wide smile as soon as they're together.
He reaches out to hold Remus' hand, and Remus pushes his foot forward under the table. They're in wrap-around seats against the fogged glass window, Remus facing the back wall, and Regulus shifts around the counter to sit right beside him. Couples are supposed to eat on opposite ends, obviously. But they don't get to touch enough in Hogwarts, and this is their only chance. Regulus speaks first. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too," Remus answers, and he reaches over to brush the dark waves from Regulus' eyes. They're black and gorgeous—like Sirius', but softer. And Remus' to play with. Regulus is slightly paler than Sirius and slightly smaller, but he's still about the same height as Remus. Regulus is just as thin and just as smart, and he's just as warm as he presses closer, his thigh hitting Remus'. Their shoulders bump and Regulus leans the extra distance—Remus moves to meet him. Their lips touch chastely before they have to pull apart—a scraggly old wizard drops two sets of Butterbeer on the table.
Remus digs in his pockets for some sickles, but Regulus pays before he finds any. Regulus often pays, even though Remus is older and feels like he should. Remus doesn't have as much money, and it's sort of embarrassing.
Regulus must catch his slight blush, because their hands brush, and Regulus murmurs quietly, "You can pay me back later."
"I won't be any richer later," Remus answers, not so much sullen as pragmatic. He reaches for his Butterbeer, taking a slow sip. It's as delicious as it always is, and he can't suppress the quick shiver of delight that Regulus mirrors a moment later.
Regulus licks the foam off his lips, just as Remus daydreams of doing it, and he murmurs, glancing sideways through his lashes, "I didn't mean with money."
Remus mirrors the smirk and leans in for another quick kiss. At least, it was supposed to be quick. But Regulus leans back and puts down his jug. He parts his lips slightly for Remus to dive his tongue inside, and Remus presses their bodies together with a quiet moan. Regulus tastes like Butterbeer now, and it's even better from him. Remus wants to touch every part of Regulus' mouth with his tongue, and he doesn't ever want to pull back. He has to, though. Because they're in a public bar, and they can't get too excited. Regulus is always exciting. Afterwards, they lean their foreheads together, and Remus purrs, "It's not payment if I enjoy it, too."
A smile flickers across Regulus' lips, gone as quick as it came. Then he begins to chew on his lower lip—a sign that something's worrying him. Remus drops a hand below the table to place on Regulus' thigh, squeezing it gently. He tries to look reassuring—Regulus should know that he can tell Remus anything.
Especially after Remus shared his secret, and Regulus was so blissfully good about it. He even visits Remus every full moon in the hospital wing—once Sirius and James and Peter have left, of course. He's understanding around the times they can't do too much, and he hasn't bought Remus silver jewelry since. (And he replaced the charm bracelet he got Remus before this, blushing profusely and scolding Remus for wearing it anyway, to which Remus replied he'd take a burn for Regulus any day.)
Now he shakes his head like he knows he's being silly, and he looks back at Remus, saying quietly but quickly, "Remus, I really want you."
"I want you, too," Remus answers easily, pecking Regulus on the cheek. Regulus grins endearingly but shakes his head again.
"No, I mean... I mean I want you." Then his cheeks flush, and he adds both huskily and cautiously, "I... I really like you, and we've been doing so well lately, and... I think it's time we took it... to, you know... the next level."
Remus raises his eyebrows but doesn't at all say 'no.' They're young, of course, and Regulus is younger, and Remus doesn't at all want to drag him into anything he'll regret. But... but Remus would be lying if he said he didn't want to—if he said he didn't stay up at night, touching himself to the thought of his gorgeous, sweet boyfriend. Remus only ever thinks of Regulus now when he comes and really can't think of anyone else he'd rather be with.
He nods slowly, leaning in for another kiss. Regulus puts one hand on his chest to stop him, leaning back, and they hover just millimeters apart. Remus can feel the breath across his lips as Regulus mumbles, "Remus, I..." but he trails off, looking lost and needy and just generally alluring.
Remus knows Regulus doesn't want to say it first. So he says softly, "I love you."
Regulus grins so bright it's almost blinding, and he instantly sighs, "I love you, too."