For Elizabeth, a very delayed Secret Santa 2019! Happy belated Christmas!

Written For:

Task #5: Electrocuted by an Amplifier: Write about a rockstar, or someone going to a rock concert.

Feel More (Give Less)

"Right, enough is enough."

Regulus Black looked down at his friend—a man who he'd become much closer with in the last few years. James Potter was disheveled, unshaven and tired. He was slouched on the sofa with a hand over his stomach, looking as though he had just been jolted out of sleep.

"What?" he muttered, struggling to sit up on the couch. His glasses were lopsided.

"It's eight-thirty. You're asleep on the couch at eight-thirty."

James wrinkled his brow, evidently trying to decipher what day it was, never mind the time. "Who let you in?"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Your front door was unlocked. Is Harry in bed?"

James nodded as he released a particularly loud yawn. "Look, I'm a bit too tired for company tonight, Reg."

"Tough. We're going out." Regulus threw an item of clothing at James, and James looked down at the old leather jacket on his lap. It was one of four jackets that had been custom made a few years back, with the word Marauder! displayed proudly on the back.

"I haven't seen this in—"

"Two years, I know. Since Lily died."

James fell silent, and placed the jacket to the side of him, leaning back on the couch.

"I don't know what you want from me, Reg," James muttered finally. "I told you, just like I told them all. I can't just abandon my son for the band."

"I'm not asking you to join the band, James," Regulus replied, perching on the arm of the couch. "The Marauders are playing tonight. Things haven't been going so well since Frank took over on lead guitar. I think the band—my brother especially—would like to see a supportive face in the crowd."

"I can't," snapped James. "It's too short notice. Who's going to look after Harry?"

Regulus smirked. "Hope Lupin is on her way over."

James groaned loudly and jumped up from the sofa. "You can't just go around arranging babysitters for me without asking me first."

"Shut up, and go and get ready."

James Potter was touring all over Britain with the Marauders when it happened.

He'd been split up from Lily for a while. They ended things on good terms—they were young, too young when they had Harry, and it took a little bit of growing up for them to realise that they were different people. They shared custody of their one-year-old son; James had Harry at the house he shared with his parents for three days a week, and Lily had him for the remaining four at the flat she rented in London. It was a system that worked well. Lily had time to work on getting a degree and consider her future as a barrister, and James had time to play music with the band, which was getting more and more successful. Both of them had time to spend with Harry, and despite being in a separated family, he was a perfectly happy little boy.

And then things went wrong. A horrific accident. Lily was in the wrong place, wrong time. She was walking to work when a man in a balaclava dashed past her and grabbed the purse of the old lady who was walking in front of her.

Only, instead of letting the robber get away with her handbag, the old lady put up a fight. And Lily Evans wasn't about to let a grown man try and wrestle an old lady to the ground, so she dashed forwards to help.

And the robber pulled out a firearm, probably to threaten the old lady into handing over her bag. When Lily grabbed at the robber to stop him, he turned the weapon on her and in the heat of the moment—he fired.

It only took one, well placed shot, and Lily Evans was dead. Everything about her was suddenly gone; evaporated into the air with the traces of gunpowder that took her life.

But life had to go on. Harry was suddenly without a parent, and even though Fleamont and Euphemia offered to help, James knew he had to be responsible. He was a full time father now, and he couldn't leave his son for half of the week while he carried on playing with the band. The idea made him feel guilty—guilty for potentially letting Lily down, and guilty for the idea of abandoning his son.

He had to get a proper job, and get his own home with his son. He had to be a proper role model for Harry.

"What if he fusses for Hope?"

"He won't."

"What if he wakes up and I'm not there, and he needs me?"

"James, give it a rest."

"I can't do this. I've got to go back."

They were almost at the venue when James stopped in his tracks, prepared to turn on his heel and go back home. Regulus grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket. "Stop it, James. Hope raised Remus. Remus. My brother would tell you what a perfect specimen of a man he has become, and Hope raised him. Do you really think she will struggle with your four year old son who will most likely stay asleep?"

"I... I suppose."

"You've got to get your life back on track. Harry is getting older now, and there has always been plenty of people willing to help you. Lily would want you to live your life while being a dad. You can still be a great father."

He was offered a lot of help.

The band understood why James needed to leave. Well, Remus and Peter did—Sirius seemed miffed about it, but he didn't argue. James understood, though. Sirius was free of any responsibilities, more so since he left home. All he had to worry about was the band and his boyfriend.

They all offered their help though, even Sirius—though James wasn't sure he'd be prepared to let his reckless best friend look after a toddler. But regardless, James wasn't going to fall on his friends, not when they could carry on making a name for the Marauders.

James certainly didn't expect his best friend's little brother to show an interest in helping him. Regulus had been a roadie when the band went on tour, mostly to get away from his parents as Sirius had. He helped out with luggage and even acted as an unofficial manager most of the time. He was so concerned with the idea of James single-handedly rearing a child, that he pushed and pushed his help until James accepted.

Over the years, Regulus became an unlikely constant in James's life. He appeared with coffee in the mornings, beers late at night, and sometimes dropped in with nappies or formula, even when James didn't know he was getting low on supplies. He was a shoulder to cry on when he was depressed, and a listening ear when he was lonely.

He would never ask Regulus for help, but it was given freely anyway.

As soon as they stepped into the venue, James seemed to come alive.

His eyes lit up, and a grin spread across his face. People he knew from years ago recognised him, old friends and acquaintances who used to come to their shows.

"Hey, Potter!"

"Long time no see, man!"

"You're wearing your jacket! Are you playing again?"

Regulus smiled at the attention that James was getting, and nudged him towards the stage. There wasn't anyone up there yet, but he took a place while Regulus went to the bar.

James hung back a bit when the Marauders came on stage. He didn't want them to see him straight away and for him to cramp their style. Frank Longbottom, who had reluctantly agreed to take up James's spot after a lot of persuasion from Sirius, looked anxious. He had been playing with the band since James left, and it still didn't seem to suit him. His hands tapped nervously at his guitar, with nowhere near the same lazy precision that James had.

Peter grinned as he slapped his bass guitar, and Remus twirled the drumsticks around his fingers. Sirius loped onto stage, his curly dark hair hanging in his face as he grabbed at the mic stand.

It was brilliant to watch the band play, while he wasn't actually up there with them. James found his body jerking to the familiar tunes, and singing along with Sirius and the audience, and waving Regulus's lighter in the air. Someone sloshed beer down his back accidentally, but James didn't even care.

Suddenly a screech of feedback as Frank's lead disconnected. Sirius groaned audibly into the mic.

"Come on, Longbottom!" shouted James, forgetting his bid not to cramp their style. Frank turned his eyes to the audience, looking mortified and Regulus nudged James in the ribs.

"Is that…" Frank started.

"James fuckin' Potter!" screamed Sirius, completely forgetting about the song that they were in the middle of playing. He jumped down from the stage, making the people in the pit separate in awe so that he could move through the crowd. "What are you doing here?"

"Sirius, maybe you should finish your set first—" James started, but Sirius clubbed him good-naturedly over the head.

"Oh yeah, we'll finish the set. You're joining us."

"No way, I haven't played since—"

"Please, take over." Frank hopped down, thrusting his guitar out to James. "I know it's not a patch on your Gibson, but it should get you through the set. I've been dreaming of you turning up and putting me out of my misery for years."

James took the guitar gingerly from Frank, and Sirius grinned. "Thank Christ. Frank has been butchering all the songs we wrote." He smirked as Frank flipped him the bird.

"Oh...fine," James said.

Regulus grinned as James followed Sirius up onto the stage, and into the spotlight that he hadn't played in for three years.

When the set finally finished, Sirius snatched Frank's guitar out of James's hands and brought it down on the stage, smashing it into smithereens. He threw the remnants out into the crowd and screamed something inaudible into the mic.

"Sorry Frank—he'll buy you a new one!" James yelled out, but Frank was laughing as he stood next to Regulus. This must have been a common trick since Frank joined the band, as James wouldn't have even let Sirius breathe on his own expensive guitars.

They came down from the stage, and Sirius tried to drag James over to the bar, but James held off. "Give me a minute, mate. I need to talk to—"

"My brother, yeah," Sirius slurred with a grin. "I used to see the way he looked at you, even though you might not have noticed. I know I haven't seen you in a few years, Potter, but if you do anything inappropriate to my innocent brother, you know I will personally—"

"I get it, I get it," sniggered James. "I'll treat his virginity with utmost respect."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but said nothing as he looked over James's shoulder. When James turned around, Regulus was standing there, wearing a lopsided smirk. "You'll treat my virginity with what?"

James laughed and pulled Regulus away from the bar (and from his brother), until they came to a dark, quieter corner of the venue. "Thank you for this," he said. "I didn't realise how much I needed this."

"I told you, you deserve to live your life."

"Okay, I didn't drag you over here for you to say 'I told you so'."

"So, what did you drag me over here for?" Regulus looked up at James, his steely eyes twinkling.

Without immediately answering, James leaned down and hovered his mouth near Regulus's, waiting. Regulus moved slightly closer, and James pressed their lips together softly.

"Oh," Regulus murmured into James's mouth.

James grinned and pulled away, enjoying the flush rising in Regulus's pale face.

Things were changing, and James was ready to live his life again.