Chapter 15: A Jealous Tantrum
Summary:
The First Kiss
Notes:
Hello hello!
It's taken 100K words, but the First Kiss has arrived. Our favourite idiots in love are getting there 3
TWs for this chapter
Internalised homophobia
Smoking
Underage drinking
Minor violence
Mentions of past violence and bleeding (the Snape incident)
Mentions of past child abuse
I think that's all of it!
Feel free to scream in the comments about these two finally getting together if you want - I'm here for it. This has to be one of my favourite chapters 3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Interlude: Sirius POV
Sirius is a little tipsy, but he's warm and happy. He's leaning on Remus, who has his arm over his shoulders, as they walk back towards the castle. It's been a good day. One of those in which Sirius remembers that there are good people in his life. People who can laugh, and take a joke, and even disagree with each other without pulling out wands and threatening dismemberment.
Sirius has cigarettes in his pocket, and his best friend right next to him, and everyone else he likes is walking in front of them. James is at the very front of the group, walking like he's in a rush to get back which Sirius doesn't understand. Why is James in such a hurry when everything that matters is right here?
He fishes the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and takes one out, then offers it to Remus. He takes one, too. Sirius lights his first, then Remus' and gets to watch the flame dance in his eyes.
Remus is beautiful.
Sirius is fucking confused about it.
He remembers the incident with Snivellius only through a sort of haze. There was a ton of pain, but physical pain has no power over Sirius so he was mostly fine. Until he wasn't. He felt weak, lightheaded. Dark spots appeared in his vision. Sirius wound up on the floor, clinging to Remus for some reason. And then, he started to get cold. So cold.
It felt to Sirius as though death had arrived in the corridor, searching for him. The cold burrowed in his marrow, spreading through his body so quickly Sirius understood he was a goner. He was going to die.
He was going to die in Remus' arms, because Remus was still trying to save him. He was so upset, frantically casting healing spell after healing spell and Sirius wanted to tell him that it was okay. That he knew Remus was doing everything he could, and Sirius didn't blame him.
Remus had looked at him, amber eyes wide and so fucking terrified. And Sirius had become overwhelmed by a sense of loss so strong he'd momentarily forgotten to be afraid of dying.
And in that moment, that breath when Sirius was hyper aware of Remus and his fear and his pain, all Sirius could think was He doesn't know. I haven't told him.
There was regret. So much regret it coated every drop of blood leaking from Sirius' mangled body. Sirius had realised that he wasn't going to see another day, and the thing that weighed on him was that he'd never told Remus how beautiful he was.
Sirius glances sideways, to his friend. Walking towards the castle with an arm thrown over Sirius' shoulders, a jumper that's too big for him, and a glint in his eye because eventually Remus did have mulled beer, too.
Beautiful.
He's so unaware of it. Just. Remus is. He's cool, and smart, and a little mean sometimes but that's okay because he's so much more intelligent than anyone else he's allowed to get irritated. He's handsome, and sexy, and cheeky, and he acts like he's not even conscious of it. It makes Sirius a little frustrated, if he's honest.
Sirius doesn't know what any of this means. Or he does, but he can't. He can't. It's not him, is it? Sirius doesn't feel that way about Remus because Remus is his friend.
And yet, Sirius has never had the urge to press his lips against James'. He's never wondered what would happen if he bit under James' jaw. He's never caught himself staring at James' body, or losing his breath over the shape of James' hands.
All of those things have happened to him about Remus. But they're just intrusive thoughts, right? It's normal to have strange urges. To wonder about things that one knows one doesn't actually want. Because he doesn't.
But Sirius almost died, and he was so full of regret. And what does it mean?
It can't mean anything. Not for him.
Honestly, Sirius thinks it's been too long since he hooked up with someone. He's a young man, and he loves sex, and he hasn't had it in forever. It's building up, and he hasn't had any action. Surely, it's normal that he's getting a little confused and his brain is latching onto the first available person.
Because Sirius is extremely aware of the fact that Remus likes boys. This is fine. Sirius doesn't judge, and he'll hurt anyone who dares to. It's just that knowing Remus likes boys makes Sirius a little nervous, in the sense that… well. Sirius has wondered if Remus has ever looked at him that way. Has he? Does Remus think Sirius is hot? He hopes so. He's very good looking, he knows. Remus must agree, right? But Sirius has never asked.
Anyway. Sirius thinks that because Remus likes boys, his brain has decided to fixate on him because he's frustrated. In a… theoretical way only. Because Remus likes boys and Sirius is a boy. Given how frustrated he's been lately, it's not strange that his mind has decided Remus is a possible outlet. Which he isn't, not really, but that's why intrusive thoughts are intrusive, right?
And who can blame him?
Sirius glances sideways at Remus yet again. He can't help himself. Remus doesn't notice, because he's smoking contentedly, walking next to him. It's dark now, and Sirius tells himself that's why he can stare. No one can see. No one will catch him. Not even Remus.
Remus is so handsome it should be illegal.
Sirius shouldn't be noticing it. He is. But he shouldn't. He has to stop. He needs to find an outlet. A real one. Someone to fool around with for a while.
"You okay?" Remus asks, flicking the butt of his cigarette away.
Sirius nods, finishes his own smoke. "Peachy."
Remus smiles. His scarf is still wrapped around Sirius' neck and it smells so nice. Chocolate, and parchment. And Sirius hopes Remus doesn't ask for it back so he can keep it for a little while.
"Marlene and Dorcas look good together," Remus says, looking ahead. The girls are walking with their hands interlinked, flanked by Mary and Lily. Mary looks a little like a bodyguard on duty, checking their surroundings at all times just in case they run into people.
Lily, however, is staring at the back of James' head, who's walking ahead of them with Peter. Olive stayed in Hogsmeade a bit longer to catch up with her friends.
"Red's not told him yet, has she?" Sirius asks, curious.
He doesn't need to specify. Remus gets his meaning straight away. "No. I think she's hoping James will realise it on his own."
Sirius snickers. "No way. Prongs' not observant like that." He runs a hand through his hair, smirks. "Should we tell him?"
Remus shakes his head. "Lily made me promise I wouldn't say anything. She doesn't think James likes her anymore."
Sirius sighs, looks ahead and finds the back to James' head. "Well, it's too little too late, right? She rejected him like a million times. Should have thought it through."
Remus snorts, and Sirius beams up at his friend. "James was insufferable then."
"Slander!" Sirius says immediately, looking outraged. "I won't stand for it."
"You're biased."
"So are you," Sirius counters. "You're friends with Red and it's clouding your judgement."
"I'm also friends with James," Remus says.
"Yeah, well," Sirius retorts. "Fifth year was shameful for everyone."
He'd rather not think about it, thanks. It was the worst year of his life. If Sirius could go back, he'd do it differently. But he can't, and he has to live with the knowledge that he betrayed one of his closest friends. Not his proudest moment.
"Do you want to practice patronuses in the dorm?" Remus asks him, changing topic swiftly. Sirius is grateful for it.
"Yeah," he says. "Let's do that."
Sirius likes practicing patronuses because it forces him to think of the good times. The happy times. And watching a physical manifestation of those good memories is one of the best feelings ever. It's proof to him that he's not all rot. There are good parts inside of him, and if he focuses on them, he can grow them.
The darkness has teeth, and it wants to bite, but Sirius fights back. Day and night. He fights. And when he casts patronuses he thinks of his friends and of their best times together. And the light pours out of him like he's the star he was named after.
Regulus has hit a wall.
There is, as far as he can tell, no record of what happened when Tom Riddle was given the award for special services to the school. It's almost like someone wanted to sweep it all under the rug. On the one hand, this makes Regulus even more curious. On the other, he's frustrated as fuck because he's spent the better part of his Saturday in the library and has literally nothing to show for it.
He hasn't spoken to Slughorn yet, because the man is annoying and he's still talking about the Great British Brew-Off, but Regulus is going to have to. Because he's not making any progress and he can't be wasting any more time.
He's hungry, and annoyed, and tired when he makes his way back to his dorm to dump his books before going to grab dinner. The only highlight is that James should be on the roof again tonight, hopefully with more cigarettes. So.
Regulus takes a shower and is getting dressed when Barty, Evan and Dorcas arrive back from their visit to Hogsmeade.
"Hello Reg!" Barty greets, too loud and cheerful.
Barty is tipsy, which clues Regulus into what they spent all day doing—drinking at the Three Broomsticks. Rosmerta, the pub owner, cannot resist a handsome face so Barty gets away with murder. He's been drinking alcohol there since last year.
Regulus rolls his eyes. "Evan, he's your problem now. Deal with it."
Evan snickers, but he gently tugs Barty towards their side of the room. "No wait!" Barty protests. "Reg. Dorcas has to tell you about her date. She wouldn't shut up about Marleeeeeene!" Barty says in a singsong voice.
Dorcas sighs, and helps Evan drag Barty towards the bed. Evan proceeds to help Barty out of his clothes which is nowhere near as sexy as it should be given Barty is mostly just… sitting there. Limp.
"Well?" Regulus asks Dorcas.
She beams. "It was so nice!" Dorcas does a little twirl in the middle of their room. "Mary came with us to do some shopping, but she mostly stayed away unless there were people nearby so it felt like a date. And then we went to the pub with Marlene's friends."
Dorcas pauses, frowns. Regulus waits. He wants to hear this, because Marlene's friends are Gryffindors. James is a Gryffindor. There's a chance James was there, and Regulus wants to know.
He's got it so bad. Regulus can't even pretend he doesn't anymore, because most of his brain power these days is devoted to thinking about James. When he's not obsessing over his revenge, James is all he thinks about. Constantly. Wonderfully.
Embarrassingly, too. But no one can read Regulus' mind so it's okay. He's used to disappointing himself, so this new level of pathetic is nothing to be alarmed by. So long as no one else catches on, he's fine.
Regulus needs help. He knows. It's not… he's not normal. He's like, aware of it. He has scars on his soul and a cage of bones guarding a dead, frozen thing that will never beat again. But also, he's a teenage boy accosted by hormones who has a horrific crush on the captain of a sports team. Talk about a cliché.
So yes. Regulus needs help. He has zero interest in getting it because the James in his head likes him back and that's nice. So. He won't stop. Delusion is a fantastic place to be, in his opinion.
"Your brother was there," Dorcas says instead. Regulus almost groans out loud. People need to stop walking on eggshells around him when it comes to Sirius. Regulus is aware Sirius exists. They hate each other, and that's fine. He doesn't want to talk about it.
"Fascinating," Regulus says.
Dorcas shrugs. "He's funny. And him and Potter are scary, I swear."
Evan looks over his shoulder. "Scary?"
"As in, they read each other's minds?" Dorcas says. "It's uncanny, but like in an adorable way? It was fun to watch."
"Oi, Dorcas!" Barty says, emerging from behind Evan only half-dressed. "Can you confirm Potter finally got the redhead to go out with him?"
Regulus stomach drops. What?
"I think so?" Dorcas says cautiously. "I'm not sure what's going on there. Mary seems to think they're a done deal, because apparently Lily likes Potter and they orchestrated some sort of date today. But Marlene told me that she's not convinced Potter is into her."
"Well, they were holding hands in the pub," Barty says. "I saw it. Evan saw it."
Regulus can't breathe.
"Holding hands?" Dorcas asks, gaping. "Are you sure?"
Regulus' chest is caving in.
"It looked more like they were talking about something serious," Evan says, shrugging.
"She was making eyes at him, and they were holding hands over the table," Barty insists.
Bones and frost and stalactites. Ice cracking, breaking. Slicing through Regulus' insides and shedding blood. Crimson rivers flooding and washing over the empty tundra of his heart, dragging away all that made Regulus ever want to smile.
"Are you sure?" Dorcas is asking Barty and Evan, intent and focused, like the answer matters.
"Yes," Barty says.
"I guess? I don't know, who cares anyway?" Evan adds.
Regulus. Regulus cares. He cares so much he's about to be sick. James is seeing someone. Someone who isn't Regulus. A girl. Which, like, fair. But also no. Not fair. Because what happened to the broom ride? And the promise of another one when it snowed? What about the little looks, or the time he winked at him? What about James' hitched breaths when Regulus touched him or the way he put his chin on his shoulder when they were flying?
James said his eyes were lovely, and now he's making eyes at a girl.
Regulus wants to scream. Sound is crawling up his throat, like the shock and hurt and rage have legs and they're making their way up so they can spill out of his mouth. He's choking on it all, drowning.
But Regulus can't. Not right now. He clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth together so hard he wouldn't be surprised if there was dust.
He needs to leave, go be alone. Except he can't move.
"Reg?" Dorcas sounds alarmed, so Regulus forces himself to look at her. "Fuck," Dorcas says. And then, so softly Regulus reads it on her lips rather than hears it, "I'm sorry."
No.
No.
"I'm going to dinner," Regulus says, storming out of their room and ignoring Dorcas calling his name.
Regulus doesn't go to dinner. Obviously. He feels as though he'll never be able to eat again. His stomach is a churning storm of things he can't name, all swirling together and making him feel weak.
He doesn't go to the roof, either. He's not going to that fucking roof ever again. He doesn't want to see James ever again. Because they were just getting closer, weren't they? It was happening. Nights upon nights on that roof. Talking. Sharing. Regulus told him his favourite song, for Merlin's sake. And what was it for? It was all for nothing. A waste. A cruel joke of the universe.
Regulus honestly just wants to break something. His chest is hurting, which is preposterous because his chest is frozen, empty, a tundra of pain and bones and nothing else.
Except.
It hurts.
Regulus needs it to stop hurting. He'll do anything for it to stop hurting because the cold is safe. It's familiar. It's what allows him to think clearly and focus on what must be done.
So Regulus decides to go to the classroom. The one where he practices. It's in a corner of the castle, tucked away behind several broom closets. Judging by the dust covering the corridor, nobody comes here, let alone use any of them. He shoves the door open aggressively, because he needs this ache to leave him and he feels as though inflicting it on other shit will help.
Dark magic lingers in the air, trapped and concentrated from many sessions. There are no windows, so it can't escape. There's no relief in this room. No mercy. No quarter. It chokes Regulus, coats his throat like bitter slush. It reminds him of his house. Shadowed, gloomy. Oppressive and eerie.
He tears his robes off and rolls his shirtsleeves up. And he begins. Regulus dances through the classroom casting curse after curse. He's made targets out of the discarded furniture, transfiguring the pieces into dummies that are shaped like people. It's grotesque, because Regulus didn't spend much time doing it properly—he couldn't be bothered—so the proportions aren't great and some look more humanoid than others. The creepy collection of silhouettes watches him obliterate them one by one.
There's no method to this madness. Regulus is angry, and he's letting it consume him. He should have never strayed from this to begin with. He should have held on to his promise to himself, the one made in the dark of the night as he watched Sirius drag his broken body away alone.
Regulus wants revenge. It's his driver, his motivation. The thing that keeps him here, focused and ready. The one goal that keeps him moving even on days when it would be easier to stay still.
Regulus lets the biting ache and the anger spread through him. It's familiar. It's known to him. Ice cold and overwhelming. Frost. Bones and a cage and a dead thing that shouldn't be feeling anything but somehow is. Unnacceptable. Pathetic.
Regulus dances, and his wand flies, and curses of all sorts hit dummies that tear to pieces, or explode into flames, or shrivel and die like plants without water. Regulus hates James Potter for making him like this. And he feeds that. He leans into it. The humiliation of knowing Regulus thought what they were doing was different to what it really was.
The hatred spreads over every inch of who he is. He shouldn't have had hope. Hope is for the weak. Hope is fucking useless, it's what it is. Because he had a little bit of it for once in his life and look where it got him.
He's throwing a jealous tantrum over James Fucking Potter.
Regulus stops, panting. Every muscle screams at him to take a moment. There are no more dummies in the room. He's torn through them all, but the ache is still there, clawing at the shell of his cold heart and squeezing. It's quite extraordinary that a dead, frozen thing in a cage of bones can still hurt.
Regulus waves his wand and rebuilds the dummies. They're even more grotesque than before, because he did make a mess of them. It's poetic, he thinks, how the room reflects what's inside of him. He's a mess of a boy in a mess of a room surrounded by darkness and the scars of magic dangerous enough to make any wizard hesitate.
He sets his shoulders back, tugs his shirt away from his skin. He's sweating and the fabric has stuck. Doesn't matter.
He starts again. The dance. The curses. The blazing fury and the only outlet he knows. The only one he allows himself because what else can he do? He can't tell anyone. And he can't break down and cry. Not over this. Not over something that didn't even exist.
"Regul—Oh shit!"
Regulus stops, twirls on his feet, eyes wide. He's panting, and his wand is raised. James is crouching by the door, and right above him, where his chest would have been a second ago, the scorched mark of one of Regulus' curses.
There's a moment when Regulus feels happy. He feels… relieved. James came looking for him. And that's the problem. This right here is why Regulus is losing his shit. Because James Potter doesn't know what he's doing to him, or he does and he doesn't care. Either way, it has to stop. He cannot be friends with him. Regulus doesn't want to be friends with him.
"You shouldn't be here," Regulus says.
James looks up, eyes wide behind his glasses. He pushes himself to his feet and takes in the room, and the state Regulus is in.
"You didn't go to the roof," James says like it explains anything.
"Not doing that anymore," Regulus says. "Now, leave."
He can see James isn't fully listening. He seems distracted, though Regulus isn't sure what exactly is distracting him. James looks a little bewildered, too. He glances at Regulus.
"Are you alright, Regulus?"
And that. Regulus feels the cracks spreading over the ice. Four words like four spikes chipping away at the walls he's made, because James asks with genuine concern. The idiot has no idea this is all for him. This is all his fault. Regulus wants to tell him. To yell at him to open his fucking eyes and see what's right in front of him, that he's torturing him, and Regulus can't take it anymore but also that the idea that he'll never talk to James again makes him want to crawl into a hole and let the worms eat him.
"You need to leave," Regulus says, gripping his wand tightly.
"No," James says. "Something's obviously upset you. Let me help."
"I don't want your help!" Regulus snaps, raising his wand.
James walks forward. Regulus doesn't move. Doesn't back away. And James doesn't stop until the tip of the wand is poking his chest. He looks at Regulus, hazel eyes determined and fierce.
"Let's try this," James says. "I don't need to know what happened to help you work it out of your system. So."
James draws his wand and turns, pointing at a dummy at random. "Are we blowing them up or what?"
Regulus stares at him. This guy is fucking unbelievable. He's… pure. He's just pure. Fucking light and warmth and goodness. Regulus doesn't deserve any of it, and yet here James is, willing to go along with whatever he was doing for no reason other than he seems to think it's what Regulus needs.
Any other circumstances and it would be. Regulus thinks they could have fun. James is a very good wizard. They could even duel for fun. Hurt each other just a little, enough that they could then heal each other. Break down into pieces so they can be put back together better.
Except James is dating Lily fucking Evans apparently, which is just… it makes sense, Regulus thinks. And it's what James deserves, because he doesn't have to hide to be near Evans. He can touch her and kiss her—
"You need to get the fuck out of here right now," Regulus says through gritted teeth. He shouldn't have thought of James kissing Evans. He really shouldn't have, but he did, and Regulus is a second away from going on another rampage.
His tone must give him away, because when James turns to look at him, he's a little wary. "Regulus, are you mad at me?"
"Yes," Regulus spits out, because he is. He can't be. He has no right to be. But he is. "So go away and leave me alone."
James' face turns to one of shock, then confusion, then dismay. It's quite impressive to Regulus that he can display so many emotions so clearly on his features. Regulus could never, not even if he tried. Which he doesn't. He never will.
"What did I do?" James asks.
"Fuck off, Potter," Regulus insists.
He can feel his control slipping. It's all too much. The jealousy, the pain. James being here with him in this room. He has to feel the dark magic. He must. It's impossible not to. And he hasn't even asked Regulus about it.
James hesitates, then seems to make a decision of some sort and sets his shoulders. "No."
"No?"
"No, I'm not leaving here until you tell me why you're mad at me." There's a muscle on James' jaw that's ticking, and he's gripping his wand a little too hard. "It's not fair, and I won't have it."
It takes Regulus a moment to realise that James is angry. And… well. Regulus' mouth is dry now, so there's that, too.
James isn't done. "Last time I saw you, everything was fine. And now it's not, and I cannot for the life of me figure out why that might be, so you are going to tell me," James says, and he looks at Regulus like he's challenging him. "So stop being fucking rude, and let's have it out like grown ups, or do you only take it out on furniture because it can't fight back?"
"Oh, you don't!"
"Yes, I very much fucking do!" James snaps. Harsh. Loud.
Regulus feels hot all over, which is insane, but also… okay. Angry James works for him, apparently.
"Why are you mad at me, Black?"
"Oh, it's Black now, is it?"
James' eyes flash. "What the fuck is your problem!?"
And Regulus hates him so much he can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but rise to the challenge. He's helpless, hopeless. He's a mess of a boy in front of the man he likes and Salazar Slytherin help him, because he's going to need it.
"You holding hands with Lily Evans is my problem! You and your stupid fucking face showing up here like your girlfriend isn't waiting for you in your dorm! That's my problem!"
Regulus' panting is all that can be heard in the silence that follows.
James blinks. Pockets his wand. Regulus wants the ground to open and swallow him. Lightning to smite him. Anything that will get him away from here and James and the implications of what he just said.
"I need to be one hundred percent clear about this," James says carefully. "There can be zero confusion. So."
"Leave," Regulus says, looking down at his feet. He's mortified enough. James should have the decency of granting him some privacy now.
But he doesn't. No. Instead, suddenly, unexpectedly, James' hand is touching Regulus' chin and forcing his face up and Regulus is going to die now. Thank you. Goodbye.
"Regulus, are you jealous? Is that what's happening?"
Regulus shoves James away, hands on chest, pushing as hard as he can. James is caught by surprise and stumbles backwards.
"Go on," Regulus says, practically snarling. "Laugh at me. It's about fucking time."
"Regulus," James replies softly. So softly that Regulus has to look at him. He has no choice. Because he's always liked it when James says his name but this one time? James sounds like he's worshipping and it's Regulus on his altar. It's possibly the best thing Regulus has heard in his entire life. So, of course he folds. How could he not?
When their eyes meet, James opens his mouth and proceeds to completely, thoroughly obliterate the world as Regulus understands it.
"As hot as you look when you're worked up about something, there is zero reason you should be jealous of Lily or of anyone because there isn't one fibre of my being that isn't absolutely and ridiculously obsessed with you," James says earnestly.
Regulus' wand clatters to the floor, and then he's stepping forward a little, and so is James and now they're standing close, so close, their shoes are touching. Regulus tilts his head up and looks at him and his brain exists his skull because James is staring at his mouth.
"You're not dating Lily?"
"No," James says. "If you must know, I bought her a drink because she helped me source the Rubik's cube that I wanted so I could bring it to the roof and have an excuse to stare at your hands."
"Hands?" Regulus is becoming incoherent.
"Yes. They're lovely, Regulus. You're lovely. Beautiful. Smart," James says, and then, in a softer tone, "You're all I think about. All the time. Just you."
"Oh."
"I'm going to kiss you now," James announces. Regulus thinks he's going to burst out of his skin. But James isn't moving. Why isn't James moving? He said he was going to kiss him but he isn't. And Regulus—ah.
Oh.
"Yes," Regulus says.
James kisses him like he's imagined it a million times and knows exactly what he wants. His hands cradle Regulus' face, and it should make him uncomfortable but it really, really doesn't. He tilts Regulus' face up to adjust the angle and then James runs the tip of his tongue along Regulus' lower lip. It's a fucking miracle Regulus doesn't pass out from that alone. He opens his mouth, lets James in, and Merlin's beard on fire, Barty was an amateur. James is… James is everywhere at once. Regulus' entire universe, narrowed down to the point where their tongues are touching, and their lips are moving, and is that?
Oh, fuck.
James bites Regulus' lip and he makes the most embarrassing noise he's ever made in his entire life. He can feel his cheeks on fire, but he doesn't want to stop this, whatever this is. And James, apparently, likes the noise Regulus made because he only kisses him deeper, better, more.
Regulus plunges one hand in James' hair and it's James that groans this time, and Regulus' fingers tighten. He gets it now. The noise. He was wrong before. This is the best sound he's heard in his entire life and all he wants is to make James make it again.
James breaks the kiss, and Regulus braces himself for the inevitable regret. Or whatever it is James has to say to pretend this didn't just happen. Which is fine. Regulus will be fine.
But James isn't interested in commentary. James isn't interested in anything but Regulus, which Regulus can't believe, doesn't understand, but he's not questioning it because oh Merlin fuck.
James trails soft kisses and bites under the line of Regulus' jaw, his fingers tangling in the curls at the back of his neck. Regulus head falls to the side of its own accord, but he's on board with this, because James attacks his neck and Regulus can only hold on for dear life and pray his legs don't buckle.
James returns to his mouth at some point—could have been a minute, could have been a lifetime—Regulus isn't sure. Regulus doesn't care. They're kissing again. And then Regulus is sitting on a desk and James is standing between his legs, and they're still kissing. There's hands running up arms, and in their hair, and over their chest. And tongues and teeth and lips.
Regulus has died and, against all odds, gone to fucking heaven.
James pulls away suddenly, his hands, which Regulus is only just now realising are on his thighs, stilling. "We need to stop," James says. It's winded, and breathless, and Regulus disagrees. Vehemently.
"No, we don't."
James laughs, cradles his face again and tilts it so he can look at him properly. "We do, because I'm this close to losing my mind. And you deserve better."
"I really don't," Regulus argues.
"I think you do," James says gently, putting a little bit of space between them.
Regulus sighs. Shrugs. "Fine. Your loss."
James smirks. "Really?"
Regulus pushes him back a little, slides off the desk. James catches him by the waist and pulls him in, close. They're kissing again, and Regulus can't help but to smile against James' mouth. He notices, but James doesn't seem to mind.
It's another lifetime before they do break apart for real, mostly because they need to breathe at some point. Stupid lungs.
"Regulus," James says, pressing their foreheads together. "I've been wanting to do that since the day I ran into you in the Quidditch changing rooms."
"Stop it," he says.
James only smiles. "You're so fucking beautiful."
"You're making me uncomfortable," Regulus replies, but he's smiling, too. He can't help it.
"I'm sorry?"
"You're an idiot," Regulus says. And it's just. They stay that way for a moment, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Lips swollen and breathing a little too fast.
James sighs, then steps back. He drops his hands and Regulus feels the loss of contact like a bucket of iced water. James runs a hand over his face, smacks his lips.
"Alright. Okay," he says, and he's making Regulus nervous now which just won't do. "I need… you're not going to like it. But I need to talk to Sirius about this."
"No," Regulus says immediately. "You can't do that."
"Regulus, he's my best friend."
"I don't care if he's the freaking Minister for Magic. You cannot tell him," Regulus insists.
Sirius can't find out. He can't, because this is the best thing that has ever happened to Regulus and Sirius will ruin it. He'll take James away. Leave Regulus alone in the cold again. And he knows warmth now. Knows the feel of it because it's everywhere in James. His lips, his hands, his hair. His very skin is made of it, and the cold never bothered Regulus before. But now? Now Regulus wants the heat.
Sirius can't take that away from him. Not again.
James buries both his hands in his hair. He looks distressed, and Regulus kinda hates that it was him who did that, but also. He cannot tell Sirius.
"I want to kiss you again," James says, making Regulus' head spin. He can't keep track of this guy.
"Seconded," he says, because what else?
"I cannot do this again until I've told Sirius," James announces.
And Regulus is rolling his eyes. "You did just fine right now."
James smirks. Regulus raises his eyebrows, a smug look on his face. It's a good point and he knows it. James chuckles, sighs. "Listen, I thought I'd have more time. I wasn't even sure you…" He gestures vaguely between them. "But the plan was always to tell Sirius if I became sure that this was something that could happen. Something that you wanted."
Regulus leans back against a desk so he can look nonchalant but also because hearing James talk about the fact that he'd made plans around the possibility of them getting together is making him weak in the knees.
"If you tell Sirius, this will never happen again," Regulus says, using the same little hand gesture between them that James did a moment ago.
He frowns. "That's not fair."
"It's a fact," Regulus counters. "He'll forbid you from seeing me again."
James' expression softens. He walks over to Regulus, still leaning against a desk, and comes to a stop right in front of him. James lifts a hand and Regulus watches it with trepidation. And James, fucking James, asks him, "This alright?"
Regulus nods wordlessly, and James' hand traces his cheekbone before resting there, palm cupping his face. Regulus relaxes into it. He's got no choice. James' hand is so warm, and a little rough because he's a chaser, and the feel of it on his skin is delicious.
"Sirius can't keep me from this," James says. "He can tell me doesn't like it. He can tell me he wants me to stop. I don't have to listen."
Regulus scowls. "So much for a best friend."
"We do shit the other doesn't like all the time," James tells him. "That's okay. We're not each other's keepers. What we don't do is lie to each other. I'm going to tell Sirius, Regulus. That's a fact. And I'll look for you after I do. It's up to you whether you want me to find you."
James wakes up to the sound of screaming. He hasn't slept much, because when he finally made it to his bed he was too wired to rest. He's disoriented for a moment, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. When it hits him, it hits him like a strike of lightning.
He kissed Regulus.
Regulus kissed him back.
His entire body tingles with awareness, like there's light in his blood now and it's coursing through him brighter and faster than before. He's never felt anything like it. Part of him wonders if he should be a little wary, because it's not normal, is it? He shouldn't feel this way. This intensely. Not yet, anyway.
But James has been in a constant state of elation since it happened. What a fucking kiss. Kisses, because there were several. Oh, Godric have mercy on him James is doomed. Regulus has ruined him. It's only happened the once, and James cannot imagine himself ever wanting to kiss anyone else again. Why would he when Regulus Black exists?
The smile on James' face won't ease. He wants to stay right where he is and replay the kissing in his mind over and over again.
But there's screaming in his room, and James has no choice but to check what it's about. He wants it on the record that he is not very well pleased about it.
Shoving the curtains aside, James slides off his bed in his pyjamas and is confronted with a humongous plant that seems to be playing tag with Remus, Sirius, and Peter. James blinks. Cleans his glasses. Tries again.
Yep. Huge plant—almost reaching the ceiling levels of huge—with purple tentacles trying to catch his friends who are frantically vaulting over furniture and dodging to the best of their ability.
"What in the name of all that is holy is happening?" James exclaims, slack jawed.
This is a mistake, because the plant clocks that there's a new participant and a tentacle immediately darts towards him. James isn't sure how exactly it happens, but he's running now. In circles. Over furniture and beds and discarded clothes and broken bits of things.
It's too early for this, James thinks as he shoves Remus aside to put him out of range of yet another tentacle. Honestly, how many does this thing have?
"Sorry!" Peter is shouting. "I forgot to feed it early morning and it got angry."
James is going to kill Peter for this. Because he should be in bed giggling to himself over Regulus instead of… whatever it is he's doing now.
"Enough. I'm going to blast this fucking monstrosity into oblivion!" Remus is saying rather threateningly. The effect is somewhat diminished by his panting and yelping as his foot gets caught on the edge of Sirius trunks and he falls down, but still.
"No!" Peter cries. "You can't hurt her."
Sirius grabs Remus and they both roll away just in time to avoid tentacles darting towards them. This plant is relentless, and James is tired and just. Can they please not? Honestly. One week. He wants one week when something chaotic doesn't happen to them. Is that too much? Is he asking for the moon? He doesn't think so.
"It's a she?" Sirius asks, ducking under a tentacle then doing a cartwheel (?) to the side to get out of the way of another one.
"Yes, a she!" Peter says. "She's just upset. She's really usually very nice."
"Pete!" James bellows. "It's a plant that's trying to kill us."
"It likes live bait," Peter explains, like this isn't disturbing news.
Remus grunts, one of the tentacles has hit him on the torso and thrown him against a bedpost. He twirls out of the way before the plant can grab him, but that must have hurt. There's going to be a nasty bruise.
"What size is the live bait?" James asks, cursing under his breath when he kicks Peter's bed with his pinky toe.
"Usually rodents," Peter explains. "But she's too agitated now. I just passed out and forgot to feed her. Not good."
Sirius' hair is a mess, sticking out in all directions and making him look a little mad. He jumps from James' bed to his own and points his wand squarely at Peter's killer plant. "Enough of this shit!" He yells. "Pete, you either get her to calm the fuck down in the next thirty seconds or I'm bombarda-ing the hell out of it!"
"You cannot do that!" Peter shouts.
"Watch me!" Sirius raises his wand higher. Peter shrieks.
James ducks under a tentacle and jumps up on the bed next to Sirius, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Pads. A moment," James says. "Peter. How do we calm it down?"
"Well," Peter says, vaulting over Remus' bed to get away from a tentacle. "I need to go to the greenhouses and get this potion to give it that will—"
"Not bloody happening," Remus says. "Can we fix this right now without hurting it?"
Pete looks like he's about to cry, but he shakes his head no. Remus looks at Sirius and nods. Sirius doesn't even blink before he's making the plant explode in their room. It's disgusting. Bits of vegetable fly everywhere mixed with a slimey substance that sticks to their skin.
James can't see anything because his glasses are covered in it, and now their room smells like a swamp. This was not how James wanted today to go, if he's honest. He should have stayed in bed and fantasised about Regulus.
"Did it have to be so violent?" Peter asks mournfully.
"It was trying to eat us," Sirius says, wiping his wand in his pyjama pants. He's shirtless, as per usual. "And now everything's a mess."
Remus sighs, looks up like he's praying for divine intervention. It obviously doesn't come, so he grabs his wand from his bedside table and says, "Right. Well. We were due a clean up of the dorm anyway."
It takes them four hours to set everything to rights, because there's slime and plant bits everywhere but also because they stop frequently to have snacks. Remus bosses them around, which James doesn't mind because he's kind of useless at domestic stuff anyway. Once their dorm is habitable again, they take turns in the shower. James goes first, then Peter, then Sirius. When Remus comes out of the shower, there's a bruise already blooming over his ribs.
Sirius, who was munching on a shortbread biscuit, springs forward like someone bit his ass. James thinks Sirius isn't aware of what he's doing. He's simply noticed Remus is injured and reacted.
"That looks like it hurts," Sirius says, now standing very close to Remus who is still in his towel and looking extremely flustered. "Are you sure the ribs aren't broken?"
Remus clears his throat. "I'm fine, Sirius."
"Are you sure?" Sirius insists. "Stay still."
Sirius brings his fingers to the blooming bruise gently, resting the pads of his index and middle finger on Remus' skin. He inhales sharply, but Sirius only mumbles something about cold hands. James wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. How can he not see it?
"Does this hurt?" Sirius asks, and then he presses a little harder.
Remus winces. "Not that much. I'm sure they're not broken. I'm fine."
Sirius nods, steps back. Looks at Remus. "Okay," he says simply. "Just making sure."
Remus smiles, even though James is sure he's dying inside. He would be, if that had been Regulus and him. But Remus is so good at just pushing through. Ignoring his own feelings because obviously Sirius is oblivious and not ready. James thinks Remus needs an award for patience.
Peter catches his eye, a look of 'do something' on his face but James shakes his head no. They can't meddle. Not with this. Because it's so delicate, so fragile, that they could break it. That's not something James thinks they can come back from.
So he watches Sirius go back to his biscuits, wand in his hair, not a care in the world. And Remus gets dressed with clumsy fingers, though no one but James can see because Remus' back is to them. Peter collects the remains of the clay pot the plant used to live in before it got angry and tripled its size and leaves to bring it to the greenhouses.
James, Sirius and Remus head to lunch, because they all slept right through breakfast before plant-gate. James is nervous, which is ridiculous. He's been to lunch a hundred times before. It's just any other Sunday. Late October, almost Halloween. Full moon approaching, too. Nothing out of the ordinary.
And yet everything is different.
James is different. He feels it pumping through his veins, straight from his heart to every part of his body. It's lining his lungs and fuelling his steps. He's so fucking happy. Regulus likes him. It's genuinely blowing his mind. In a good way. In the best way.
As soon as they walk into the Great Hall, James' eyes dart to the Slytherin table and Merlin's beard on fire. Regulus is there, sitting with Crouch and Rosier. Dorcas and Pandora are across from them, and they're all chatting, but Regulus is only listening. He looks a little distracted, and James hopes fiercely that he's thinking about yesterday.
They're only by the Hufflepuff table when Regulus looks up and meets James' eyes. It punches the breath out of his lungs. Excitement and fear race through him because they're looking at each other and James feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. He doesn't understand how everyone else is just… eating their lunch. Can't they see this? Can't they feel the way the air is electric between Regulus and James?
Honestly, James is shocked nobody has noticed the temperature in the room has climbed up by several degrees,
Regulus' face is blank, a little scowl-y but not much. James knows this is just how Regulus is. He wants to smile, but he can't. He knows he can't. And he hates it. James immediately decides he's going to come up with some sort of code so that he can tell Regulus how lovely, and beautiful, and also hot as fuck he is without it being obvious.
James is a little breathless by the time he sits next to Sirius, who hasn't noticed a thing. They arrange their plates, begin to eat. The girls arrive and sit with them. There's chatter, and gossip. James isn't listening. He wants to see Regulus again. To kiss him and hold him and touch him and just to look at him and tell him everything he makes James feel.
But he can't do that until he's spoken to Sirius. So he has to tell Sirius.
James finds that he's terrified of telling Sirius.
The whole thing has gotten out of control. It isn't James' fault, he thinks. He can't be held responsible for the whims of his heart. He had good intentions. He still does. And if he got a little swept up in the process well.
James is suddenly acutely aware of how thoroughly he's failed at his original mission. He doesn't even know whether Regulus is still aligned with his family. Part of James thinks no, because Regulus is obviously into boys and that's just not something the Black family would ever be even remotely okay with.
But also. James can't assume. He doesn't know, and he was supposed to find out, but Regulus is distracting and James just can't deal. How is he expected to remember absolutely anything when he can't even remember his name if those green eyes are looking at him?
"Halloween," Marlene says rather aggressively and seemingly out of nowhere, banging her hand on the table for good measure.
James does a little startled jump that earns him a look from his friends because it's unusual for him, but no one comments because Remus—who loves Halloween as much as Marlene—is leaning forward eagerly.
"Halloween," he says. "Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are in. I haven't asked Slytherin and I'm not going to. No offense to Dorcas, she doesn't count."
Marlene nods. "Yeah, I spoke to her. She wants to come and bring some of her friends but it's best if we don't officially try to bring their house into it. They'll ruin the fun."
"Do we have a location yet?" Mary asks.
Lily nods. "One of the greenhouses is out of commission, so we can do it there. Peter?"
"He'll speak to Sprout off the record, but he doesn't think it'll be a problem at all," Remus confirms.
"And you boys will smuggle us drinks?" Mary asks.
Sirius nods, glances at James and then winks at Mary. "Leave that to James and me. We've got you covered."
"Can you do it before the Friday? It would be good to have them all stocked in the greenhouse," Lily says. "We're going to set up decorations on Thursday."
James is about to agree when Sirius shakes his head. "Nope, can't do. Drinks will arrive on Saturday and that's final."
He looks at Remus so quickly it's barely there, but James remembers. Wednesday is a full moon. Remus will be weak and unwell Thursday and Friday. Sirius refuses to leave his side until he's completely recovered so he will not go to Hogsmeade at all. He will be irritable and just generally unreasonable because he gets that way when Moony is hurting, which makes sense to James but it's slightly inconvenient timing if he's completely honest.
James immediately feels like shit for thinking this, but Godric take pity on him, he can't help it. Regulus and his mouth have done something to him.
Because the full moon being so close means that if James wants a chance to kiss Regulus again this week—he does, desperately; in fact, he wants to go kiss him right now—he has until Wednesday to tell Sirius about it. James puts down his fork. No point playing with his food when he can't eat it. Not with the way his stomach is churning.
Notes:
Honourable mention to Sirius Confused Black and his complete inability to understand his own feelings and to Remus Will of Steel Lupin for not pouncing on him after plant-gate.
Dorcas The Queen Meadowes is onto Regulus. More of that coming later :)
I'm a bit busy the next two days so update most likely coming on Friday.
THANK YOU FOR KUDOS AND COMMENTS!!