Chapter 17: What if I told you I like you?
Notes:
Hello hello!!
There is some angst in this chapter, but also some fluff, and then more angst because it's the way life goes :)
TWs for this chapter:
Smoking
Mild violence
Medicinal drug use / abuse (Reg's sleeping potions)
Mentions of murder (off page, but it's discussed quite a bit)
Discussions of war (it is 1977, I'm afraid, blame the Death Eaters)
Internalised homophobia
Brief panic attack (not the POV character)
Depictions of wounds and healing (cuts, a bit of blood, crunched bones)
References to past child abuse
I think that's it!! Enjoy :)
As always - THANK YOU!! I love you all so much 3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Regulus is not having a good day. Admittedly, he doesn't think he's had a good day in years but like the past three have been particularly hard. He had more trouble than usual sleeping last night after the incident with the other Slytherins and Lupin. He had to take extra potion for it to take effect. His usual dose didn't work as it should have.
Something tells Regulus he should perhaps look into this, or at least be a little bit concerned, but he doesn't have time or headspace for it. He's busy. He's stressed. He's nervous.
The note James sent him is in his pocket, where it's been since Monday morning.
Regulus has read it approximately a million times. It's pathetic. He knows. Leave him the fuck alone. Thank you.
It's now Wednesday, and James still hasn't come looking for him. This either means he hasn't told Sirius yet, which is unlikely because James is Godric Gryffindor incarnate so cowardice isn't a thing he's ever experienced, or it means Regulus was right. Sirius has convinced James to stay away from him and Regulus is never going to kiss him again.
Regulus wants to kill his brother.
This isn't new, but the intensity of the feeling has been enhanced.
Resigned to another day of misery, Regulus follows Barty and Evan into the Great Hall. Dorcas is already here because she went all the way to the Gryffindor Tower so she could walk with Marlene to breakfast. This, Regulus thinks, is highly inefficient but whatever floats Dorcas' boat. He's not going to judge. Not when he's got a note with a single sentence that he takes out every chance he gets to obsess over the little J signed at the end of it.
Pandora waves at them from where she's sitting next to Dorcas. Barty and Evan sit next to each other, and Regulus takes the space by the girls. As soon as the boys are settled, Dorcas motions for them to lean closer. Regulus hasn't even had time to pour himself coffee.
"I think Mulciber, Avery and the lot are up to something," she whispers.
"Why?" Evan asks. Barty is already looking down the table with narrowed eyes.
"They've been acting weird since they got here," Pandora agrees. "Their auras are all wrong. Well, more wrong than usual."
Regulus would guess this has something to do with them being hexed last night. Who knows how long they were in that corridor before a spell wore off or someone found them. Regulus hopes it was a while.
But he doesn't mention it because he doesn't want to explain himself to his friends. Instead, Regulus scowls. "And this is our problem how?"
"It isn't," Dorcas says. "Not yet, anyway. But be alert."
They're interrupted by the arrival of the morning mail. Regulus leans back, away from spilt hot beverages and juice which are always a consequence of the owls' bad aim. He's not expecting anything, so he takes the opportunity to finally pour himself a large cup of coffee, black like his soul, and then look over at the Gryffindor table.
And he promptly chokes on his coffee because his brother is looking right at him.
He knows.
Regulus coughs a couple of times, sets the cup down. He steels himself, then looks up again and meets Sirius' eye. He's angry. Oh, he's fucking furious. Sirius is grinding his teeth, and there's that little muscle under his left eye that jumps when he's very mad. They used to make fun of it together in Grimmauld Place before Sirius ran away.
Ah. What a way to rescue a rapidly declining morning. Sirius absolutely seething with rage has made Regulus' day. Honestly, Regulus almost smiles, because it's so satisfying. And Regulus knows Sirius well enough to discern that this isn't about last night with Lupin. He thinks. It could be… but really, that Regulus would side with the Slytherins is what his brother expects of him. Isn't it? He'd never go out of his way to glare daggers at him over something so mundane.
No. This is about James. It has to be about James. He must have told him, and Sirius is losing it. The best part? He can't do anything about it because he'd never out his best friend to the entire school.
Salazar Slytherin on a broom. This is too good. It never occurred to Regulus that his crush on James could had a positive side effect, but now that he's staring right at it, he's smug.
James told Sirius he kissed Regulus and Sirius is fuming.
It's childish, and petty, but Regulus almost wants to walk over to their table and gloat. If it wasn't so dangerous, if it didn't mean throwing away all the work he's done on his revenge, Regulus would walk up to the Gryffindors and kiss James on the mouth right now just to watch Sirius go berserk.
Sirius thought he'd get to keep James for himself forever, and Regulus has gone and taken a part of him away. A part that Sirius won't ever get to touch.
It's so gratifying to see Sirius quietly seething, stabbing his eggs with such force Marlene reaches out and holds his wrist, presumably asking him if he's okay. Sirius nods aggressively, and Marlene lets it go. But Regulus saw the whole thing and he's thriving. This is fucking brilliant!
His brother is most likely not just angry at him for corrupting James, he's probably also disgusted at Regulus, but that's secondary. Sirius has been disgusted by Regulus for years, so what's one more reason. Doesn't matter. Doesn't make a difference. Regulus will bask in his brother's silent rage and enjoy it.
He skips right over Lupin—who looks like shit, by the way; even worse than he did last night after the whole ordeal—and finds James. He's chatting to Evans and MacDonald, a half-eaten toast dangling from his fingers. He's so animated, talking passionately about Salazar knows what. He waves his free hand around to emphasize his points, which only makes him look that much more attractive. Regulus almost shivers, because he remembers what those hands feel like cradling his face, or tangled in his hair.
"Holy shit," Evan whispers, and Regulus has to look away from James to scowl at his friend.
Barty is reading the Daily Prophet Evan is holding over his shoulder, face a mask of surprise. "That's sick."
"What?" Regulus asks, curious. His friends are hard to rattle.
Evan hands him the newspaper wordlessly, and Regulus is met with a gruesome photograph of a crime scene. A man was ran over by a train coming out of Liverpool station, the headline reads. It is believed he was Imperioused to walk onto the tracks just as a high-speed train was approaching. A strange, never-before-pictured mark was floating over the station all morning. A green skull with a snake darting out of the mouth.
Regulus knew it was coming, but it still hits him like a sledgehammer. This is the mark he's chosen, then. The one he's been told will be offered to him soon. The one he'll take, because he made his choice a long time ago.
In all honesty, the thing is tacky. But then again, Regulus cannot expect someone who calls himself Voldemort to have good taste, can he?
"That's it," Evan says as Regulus hands the newspaper to Dorcas so she can read it. "The Dark Lord's mark."
"What do you know about it?" Regulus asks.
Evan glances around, leans closer. "My dad has it. I've only seen it the once, because they keep it covered most of the time. It's a rule he has, the Dark Lord, so if someone bails they can't give out too many names."
Barty nods. "Smart, I guess."
"Not everyone gets the mark, either," Evan adds, pleased to have everyone's attention even if the topic is a little grim. "Apparently, now that his numbers have grown, the Dark Lord wants only his most trusted people to have it. It's a way to show loyalty and willingness to do whatever it takes. It's an honour to be offered the mark."
Regulus swallows, but Evan doesn't notice. Barty shrugs. "Does it look like that on the arm? It's fucking ugly."
Evan laughs, looks fondly at his boyfriend (?). "A bit different, but same idea."
The three of them exchange a glance. It's not surprising that Evan's father has the mark. He's been aligned with and supportive of Voldemort since Evan was little. The Rosiers pride themselves in being one of the first families to join the Dark Lord.
Regulus feels cold dread drip in his stomach. He's ready for it, but seeing it for the first time is still a shock. It's one thing to join the ranks when it feels reversible. Having this thing branded on your skin? Big step. Regulus reminds himself that he's not likely to live long enough to regret anything, so he might as well. But Evan? He wonders if he's going to follow his father's steps. Regulus fiercely hopes he doesn't.
"Why the snakes?" Barty asks.
Evan shrugs. "Beats me."
Regulus sits back down. The conflict, or war like some people call it, has been going on for years. The Ministry hasn't been too successful in fighting back, but Regulus knows everyone's a bit nervous about Minchum. He's been Minister for Magic for about a year and a half now, and he's been making changes. He, alongside Barty's father, has been pushing back. Purging the Ministry of spies. They've even put more Dementors in Azkaban.
But it's always been in the shadows. Both sides have operated behind the scenes. One because uncertainty causes fear, and fear sows chaos. The other side because it's embarrassing how little headway they've been making in fighting back.
So, it has all been kept quiet. The disappearances. Unexplained deaths. Random muggle murders. Everything has been hushed and under wraps. There have been rumours, half-baked descriptions of a mark hovering over crime scenes sometimes, but the papers have been banned from picturing it. Regulus isn't sure why, because he thinks it's always better to know. Still. That they are choosing to share what it looks like now is unsettling.
Regulus doesn't know what it means that it's out now. That everyone knows what to look out for.
"This is fucked up," Dorcas says, throwing the newspaper on the table.
"Does it say why this man was targeted?" Barty asks.
Evan shakes his head. "No. Strangest thing, he's not a muggle-born. Must have pissed off someone powerful."
Dorcas scoffs. "You sound like you think it's reasonable to kill someone if they piss you off."
"Depends," Evan says. "Sometimes, it is."
Dorcas looks away, a muscle ticking on her jaw. She picks up her juice, but her hand is unsteady. Regulus wishes the world was as simple as Dorcas wants it to be. But it's not. He, too, will kill people when the time comes. And he won't hesitate.
This makes him look towards the professors' table for some reason. Dumbledore isn't here. Not too odd for breakfast, but enough that Regulus notices. He wouldn't be surprised if he was involved in the war efforts—everyone knows he's powerful enough for Voldemort to be nervous about him.
Pandora, the last one to read the news, puts the paper down but doesn't say anything. She's pale, and quiet, staring at the mark on the picture like it might leap out and bite her. And then, to Regulus' dismay, she turns her head and looks over at Gryffindor table. At the space where James and his friends are.
Regulus heart drops.
Has Pandora had another dream? What about? Why?
Regulus' brow is furrowed because he's realising that when the time comes, it'll come for everyone and not just Regulus. Regulus has plans for revenge, a list of names and people he'll bring a reckoning to. And it'll all be against the backdrop of war because that's what it must be. But for the first time, it's truly catching up to Regulus that everyone else leaving Hogwarts will also be walking into a world that has become dangerous to even just exist in.
And Regulus decides right there, at the breakfast table of Hogwarts in front of half eaten food and his daily black coffee, that James cannot be involved in the war. He won't be. Surely, someone who is that good at Quidditch will go pro and travel the world playing. Right?
He has to be safe. Regulus hadn't thought about it until now, but it is imperative. James. Safe.
Regulus now knows what he tastes like and that knowledge means he has to make some adjustments. James has to be safe. He has to. But how is Regulus going to manage that? James is a dreamer. He's a Gryffindor through and through. If there's a person with the profile to be at the front lines fighting for what they think is right, it's James.
Regulus is going to be sick all over the breakfast table.
Pandora is still staring at the photograph of the mark and Regulus wants nothing more than to interrogate her about it, but that's for later. If Pandora has had a dream about James, Regulus has to know but he won't ask in public.
Across the hall, on the Gryffindor table, James is reading the newspaper now. Sirius's leaning over one of his shoulders and Marlene over the other. The three of them look distraught, but James? James looks like he's about to burst into tears.
It's a sight that displeases Regulus because James is usually so happy. He's a person that smiles. Warm and bright. A presence that lights up a room. Basically, James is the polar opposite of Regulus except right now there's a deep frown and a sadness clinging to James' features that dims his light and that just won't do.
Regulus looks away, because he's going to do something stupid if he doesn't. He pushes the plate with his breakfast aside, no longer hungry. Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus catches James leaving the Hall in a rush. Alone.
There's no thought process involved in. the decision to get up. Regulus simply does. He stands and goes after James, throwing a quick, "See you in class," to his friends.
Then, he's out the door, too. Regulus is too slow, so he can't tell in which direction James went. He's about to give up when he hears it. A muffled sound. A thwack, like something fell or someone got hit. Regulus follows the sound down a side corridor and finds a door to a storage room. He lets himself inside, shutting it closed behind him and casting a silencing spell immediately. Just in case.
James is curled over himself, and it's clear to Regulus that he hasn't heard him come in. His shoulders are shaking and he's muttering into the space between his knees but it's strangled and completely unintelligible.
The air in the room is heavy. Sad. And it means that Regulus doesn't walk further in, but rather stays close to the door. He doesn't know if James wants him here. Regulus wouldn't, if roles were reversed. He has days when he doesn't want anyone near him. They don't happen too often, but they happen and Regulus has learnt how to deal with them.
"Potter?"
James looks up, and when he sees Regulus he immediately straightens, schooling his face into a small smile. He runs a hand through his hair. Regulus notices he keeps the other behind his back.
"Regulus. What are you doing here?" James asks, but it's not aggressive. It's curiosity, like James can't think of a reason why Regulus would come after him.
"You're upset," Regulus points out. "Why?"
James shrugs, does a truly piss poor attempt at appearing nonchalant. It's just not one of James' strong suits. He's too transparent, at least for someone observant like Regulus. Add to it the fact that Regulus has been crushing on this guy for years and thus watching him exist and well... Suffice it to say that Regulus knows how to read James.
"It's fine. I was just being silly," James says.
Regulus glances around. The room is small and cluttered. It has old desks piled up against the walls, broken chairs too. A few boxes covered in dust. Regulus' eyes snag on a chalkboard hanging from the wall. On the fist-sized indent on it.
"Tell me," Regulus insists.
For a moment, James looks like he won't. Like he's going to keep up this charade of pretending he's being silly or whatever. But then, he blinks, and looks at Regulus, and James crumbles. Like a freaking pastry. He falls apart so quickly Regulus doesn't even have time to brace himself.
"It's my fault," James whispers, then his eyes get red and...
Salazar have mercy, James is crying. Regulus should have thought this through. He's not equipped to deal with tears. Never has been. It's just… what is he supposed to do now? Regulus is glad he stayed near the door, because at least he's got an excuse for why he's not… eh… touching James in a comforting way. Not that Regulus would know what that looks like.
Frustratingly, Regulus kind of would like to know. Because he'd very much like to touch James, but not in the way one needs when crying, Regulus thinks. He's not… he can't just… Salazar Slytherin have mercy on him, this is so awkward.
He swallows, and then tries to get a bit more information so he can understand what the hell is going on. "What is?"
"The man," James says, fighting for composure but losing the battle because there are tears on his cheeks. Thankfully, he's not sobbing, just quietly crying. Regulus would have no choice but to flee if James started to actively weep. The noises are where he draws the line.
"The man in Liverpool. It's my fault."
And this. Oh. Fuck this shit. Honestly. Just absolutely fucking not. No. Regulus is uncomfortable with tears, but he's more uncomfortable by the idea that James thinks he's responsible for that atrocity. Regulus is discovering that he positively hates it when James is distraught. He might not know how to offer comfort, but he knows facts.
"Did you cast the imperius curse?"
James stops his moping to look at Regulus like he's grown a second head. "Of course not," James exclaims, sounding indignant.
Ah. Much better. Indignant Regulus can work with. Much better than crying. "Well then. Not your fault."
James looks down, then back up at Regulus and the expression on his face is so raw and heartbroken it makes Regulus want to hug him, which is frankly terrifying. Regulus hasn't had the impulse to just genuinely hug anyone in years.
"He was going to do something bad, and I stopped him," James says. "And now they've killed him because of it. It's my fault he's dead."
Regulus registers that there is something here he doesn't like, something he should unravel and examine and put a stop to, possibly. But he can't fully process it because James starts crying again. Regulus won't have it. He just won't. So, he strides forward and pushes James back a little violently. "Don't do that. Stop that."
"If I hadn't… he'd be…" James shakes his head.
"No," Regulus says viciously. "He had a choice. And the person who cursed him had a choice. People make decisions and have to live with the consequences. Don't be so fucking arrogant to think it has anything to do with you."
James blinks, takes a shuddering breath. "But if I hadn't stopped him, he wouldn't have been killed today."
"And if his mother hadn't fucked his father a few decades back he wouldn't have been killed today either," Regulus retorts. "That line of thinking is idiotic. Honestly, James. You can do better."
James stares at him for a beat, and then laughs. He laughs, and Regulus can't help the smile on his own face. It takes a moment, but James does calm down. When he does, he sighs and nods. "Thank you."
Regulus shrugs, then lifts his chin towards James' body. "Show me your hand."
James winces, but surprisingly doesn't argue. It's almost as though he's decided to let Regulus run this scenario, possibly because James doesn't seem to be fully in his right mind at the moment. So, he shows Regulus, and Regulus wants to smack James over the head for his stupidity. "Merlin's balls, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
Regulus closes the space between them and takes James' hand in his. It's bruised and swollen, knuckles split open and bleeding. Regulus wouldn't be surprised if he'd broken a couple of bones.
"I wasn't thinking," James says bashfully. "It's fine. Poppy will fix it."
Poppy? No. He must ensure that James' hand is healed properly. Poppy means well but she's always too busy. Regulus won't risk her not giving this hand the attention and care it deserves.
"No."
"Am I meant to heal the muggle way as punishment or something?" James asks dubiously.
Regulus stares at him. "Sometimes, I really wonder how you've kept yourself alive this long."
James makes a hurrumph kind of noise, but lets Regulus handle his hand this way and that. Examining it. Regulus goes through a mental list of actions, prodding a little bit with the pads of his fingers to check the extent of the damage. Regulus really needs James to just stop hurting them. His hands. He should be more careful, or Regulus is going to attach gloves to him at all times. Gloves that he can only take off to make out with Regulus.
That's another thing. Regulus didn't follow James into an empty room after three days of waiting to let him leave him wanting. Regulus needs James to kiss him again. He needs his hands in his hair and their bodies close. For that to happen, James needs two functioning hands.
Regulus takes his wand out and gets to work. He disinfects, cleans. It takes a little while, and James watches him in silence the entire time. First, Regulus checks the bones, then he eases the swelling so he can close the wounds. "You're good a this," James says.
Regulus begins to stitch muscle and skin back together. "I have to be," Regulus blurts, because he's not paying attention to his own words when he's working to fix James' hand.
He feels James stiffen, and curses himself for what he said, but it's said already and there's no point trying to pretend it hasn't. James is Sirius' best friend. He knows what their house is like. Regulus finds that thought somewhat comforting. He'll never have to tell, because James already knows. And if Regulus has a bad day, one of those rare ones when everything sets him on edge and he can barely stand the sound of his own voice… well. James is likely to get it, because Sirius got out, but not early enough, so surely Sirius is a little bit fucked up, too?
He has to be. Regulus didn't learn healing charms to use on himself. No. That came later.
The spells are doing their work. Regulus is almost done healing James' hand, and Regulus is pleased with himself because when he's done, there'll be no trace of the injury. This is a huge relief, because hands like James' should never get hurt. They should be preserved at all costs, namely so they can do wicked things to Regulus.
Alright. Yes. He'll admit it. Regulus has been thinking a lot about James' hands. More than is probably healthy, but that's kinda Regulus' theme anyway, so all good.
"I told Sirius," James says abruptly. "About the kiss."
The kiss. Regulus likes the sound of it. Possibly more than he should, definitely more than is appropriate. Still. The way James says it, like it was important. Regulus could whoop. He would never. But he could. In his head.
"Regulus?"
Regulus looks up at James and smirks. "I know you told him. He's furious."
James' eyebrows fly up. "Don't look so happy about it."
"Does it bother you?"
"I… well. I needed him to know and to understand. It would be nice if he was supportive, but it's not a requirement," James says cautiously. He's watching Regulus for a reaction, but he won't get it. Not about Sirius.
Regulus didn't want him to know, but it was James' one condition, and he had no choice. Regulus honestly didn't even think they'd get to talk like this again. But they are. Talking. Something must have gone okay, right? But that doesn't mean he wants anything to do with his brother. Now that's out of the way, and James is apparently keeping his word and not stopping whatever this is… well. Regulus sees no reason to bring up his brother ever again.
Regulus puts his wand back in its holster. James' hand is good as new. "There. Done," Regulus says.
"Thank you," James says.
Regulus has to let go now, but he doesn't want to. James' hand is warm, and bigger than his, and Regulus kind of wants to just hold it for no reason. Well, no. He's lying. There's a reason: James is here. Back. He told Sirius and Sirius doesn't want him to be here, but he is.
It's as though James can read his mind, because he interlaces his fingers with Regulus, twisting his hand so they fit comfortably. And this is… Regulus is so overwhelmed he can't process half the things coursing through his body, running through his brain.
There's one thought, though. One that barrels to the front of his mind and takes his breath away.
James is choosing Regulus.
Regulus honestly wants to cry.
No one has ever chosen him before for anything.
His throat is thick and he's crumbling like a house of cards but what is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to stay composed when James is… he's…
"I want to kiss you," James says, tugging a little on their joined hands to bring Regulus closer. He lets his body move, stepping into James' personal space and feeling the warmth he radiates. "Can I kiss you?"
Regulus doesn't answer. At least not with words. He just. He does it. Because it's been three days and he thought he wasn't going to get to have this again, so he's going to take it while he can. Regulus presses his mouth against James'.
James kisses him back immediately, overwhelming Regulus to take control of the kiss. Regulus likes it. He likes that James takes charge, that he goes after what he wants, because what he wants Regulus also wants even if he didn't know it until they're doing it. Like the lip biting. James bites Regulus' lower lip again, like he did the first time, and Regulus' entire body goes liquid. He feels like he'll explode into flames, and Salazar help him, Regulus isn't even a little bit afraid of burning.
Regulus puts his arms around James' neck and presses himself closer to him. James groans quietly, low and from the back of his throat and Regulus feels it in his soul. James' hands run over Regulus' body, coming to stop on the back of his thighs which okay? It's a bit strange but—
Oh.
Regulus is no longer supporting his own weight because James just. He picked him up. Regulus' legs wrap themselves around James' waist, and now James' hands are literally squeezing Regulus' ass and it's. It's… Merlin fuck help, Regulus is going to faint.
"This okay?" James asks, mouth trailing wet kisses down Regulus' neck.
Is this okay? Regulus has never been more okay in his life, but he seems to have lost the ability to speak so instead he runs his lips over the line of James' jaw, feeling like a god when the other boy shivers and groans again.
At some point, James finds a wall to press them against and it's even better. Kissing against the wall is now one of Regulus' favourite ways of kissing. Regulus knows James can feel he's hard, but Regulus is pretty sure James is, too, so it's okay. Right? It has to be okay? They wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't. Also, Regulus just cannot help it. James is fucking sexy and he's doing things with his tongue that render Regulus a useless mess of panting and groaning.
They only stop making out when they can hear hordes of student thundering down the corridor outside the room, indicating that they either leave now or they'll miss their first class. Regulus would like to just stay here forever, but he also knows he can't do that.
"James," he says, tugging a little on his hair so he stops doing whatever he's doing to his neck and looks at him. James likes his hair pulled, apparently, because he makes another one of those sinful sounds and rewards Regulus with a little nip of a particularly sensitive spot that scrambles all his thoughts. "Oh. Fuck. James."
Another moan, deep and sinful. A long, languid kiss that makes Regulus forget his own name for a brief moment. Then, James stops, looks at Regulus. He's panting, but his eyes are so bright they could light up the entire world.
"I like that," he says. "When you call me James."
Regulus hadn't even noticed it, if he's honest. It sort of… slipped. But it's stupid, isn't it? He can't go around calling him Potter when they're doing this. So Regulus shrugs like it's not a big deal.
To be clear: it is a big deal. But Regulus will have a panic about it later. In private.
Now that James' mouth isn't attached to Regulus' skin, he can think. So. "We have to get to class," Regulus says.
James pouts. Literally pouts. Regulus hates the way it makes his resolve weaken. "We could just skip class today."
Regulus is tempted. He's so fucking tempted. But he can't. Someone would notice and that cannot happen. Regulus' very life depends on it.
"No, we can't. No one can find out," Regulus tells him. He's trying to be serious about it, which is somewhat less effective when he's still clinging to James, legs wrapped around his waist and all. "You can't tell anyone. Do you understand?"
To his immense relief, James' expression sobers. "I do. I won't tell anyone. I'd never put you at risk, Reg."
What is Regulus supposed to do with that other than kiss James again? He knows he catches him by surprise because of the little breath that escapes him, but James has Chaser reflexes for a reason, and recovers swiftly. And then they're kissing again, urgently, and Regulus wonders if maybe yes, they should just skip class today.
It's James who breaks the kiss this time. "Fuck. Don't do that again or I will not let you leave this room."
Regulus lets his head fall back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. If James is trying to put him off, he's doing a terrible job at it.
The stay there like that for a long moment, breathing, and processing that this is something they do now. Regulus still feels like he's half-dreaming and he's going to wake up any second to find it was all a fantasy. But it can't be, because his fantasies have never come close to this. Never been half as good.
Regulus looks down at James, who's looking up at him through his lashes. Fuck. Regulus is down so bad for this idiot.
"I'm going to put you down now," James tells him. "Okay?"
He nods, and then Regulus' feet are on solid ground and this just. It won't do. He hates it. If Regulus could have his way, he'd have James carry him around at all times. Except. Well.
"Right," Regulus says, straightening his tie which became loose at some point.
James smiles, steps back to give him some space. "So," James says. Pauses. He rubs the back of his neck, which Regulus has noticed he does when he's nervous.
Regulus raises an eyebrow.
James smiles, bits his lip. "I… eh… we're going to do this? Like. Again? You… want that?"
Regulus blinks, confused. He stares at James, not knowing what to say. It strikes him that he has zero experience with… this. People and kissing and whatever happens in between those things. It's called hooking up, he knows. Sometimes it develops into relationships. Whatever. He's never done it before. But James doesn't know that. James can't know that. It's embarrassing, and Regulus wants James to think that he's cool, and that he knows what he's doing.
He tries to sound casual when he says, "Sure."
James beams. "Ah, okay. Yes. Good." He takes a breath. "Listen. I like you. Like. A lot. So, I'd like to keep doing this and also talking. Getting to know you. So just. Yeah. I wanted you to know."
I like you a lot.
I like you.
I like you a lot.
How can James just say shit like that? Regulus can't breathe in the best way, and he kind of wishes he could tell James that Regulus likes him too. But he can't. Doesn't know how. The words just won't come.
But it doesn't matter because words are just words and they don't have to be the be all end all. Regulus looks at James and remembers that he took his place by Sirius' side, and that he made Sirius want to fight badly enough that he got out. Regulus hated him for it. Perhaps he hates him still, a little bit. But it's lost in the haze of everything else. The warmth of James. The way he looks at Regulus, and how he can make him laugh with his earnestness and goofiness. How he just won't give up. He… James keeps trying. At everything. Getting Regulus to talk to him. Making Regulus smile. Solving a Rubik's cube. James doesn't give up and Regulus is fucking addicted to him.
Oh Merlin help him.
Regulus understands in this moment that he no longer hates James. He can't. Perhaps he never truly did and he was just jealous of his brother. Because Sirius always gets everything good. He was first, and life has always reminded Regulus that he's second. In every way possible. Except this time, it's Regulus first, isn't it? Because James doesn't like Sirius this way. James likes Regulus. James wants to keep kissing Regulus. It's him. He's the one who gets the good thing.
And Regulus has never had anything that was just his, that was precious like this in his life so he's going to hold on to it with both hands for as long as he can.
Until the time comes for his revenge to happen and he inevitably has to let James go. But that's far away, and right now they're in a room together, alone in the aftermath of their kissing. Regulus won't think of vengeance. Not while James is looking at him like this.
They stare at each other for a moment. Regulus has to do something. He wants to do something to show James what he can't say. So, he lets his hand lift and reach for James' face and traces the shape of his cheek and jaw like he did in the infirmary weeks ago.
James' face melts. He just. He melts, a small, contented sigh escaping him.
Regulus would like to memorize James' face. And he will. He's got a few months, and he's going to commit it all to memory so that when he no longer has James, he has that. Perfect recall of him in every way.
When Regulus drops his hand, James' cheeks are dark and his eyes are twinkling. He says, "Oh. Yeah. Okay. Me too."
And Regulus wants to kiss him again, because James somehow understands. He gets Regulus on a level that he shouldn't be able to, but he does. Apparently, achieving the impossible is James Potter's particular brand of magic. It's fucking mind-blowing, and Regulus feels like he's too big for his skin. Like he could just expand and burst out of his body with how fucking good it feels to be able to just… communicate with James on his own terms.
Regulus smiles at him, because there's no time for kissing again but also James deserves it. And Regulus tries. He smiles as wide as he can, and his reward is the look of pure awe on James' face.
And then he nods, and Regulus turns towards the door, because he does have to leave now or they'll be in trouble. James stops him.
"Wait," James says. "It's just… ehm, I can't make it to the roof tonight. I want to. I really want to. But a friend is… well, they're having a rough time and they need me."
Regulus is looking at him over his shoulder, and sees the hesitation in James' face. But he gets it, and it only makes him like James that much more. Because if Dorcas was having a hard time, Regulus would be there for her, too. This is something Regulus understands. It's something he respects.
"Tomorrow, then?" Regulus asks.
James' smile lights the room up. "Tomorrow."
It's a bad moon. James' heart breaks for Remus, for Moony, as they struggle against their nature. The wolf and the animagi have spent the night chasing each other, which isn't unusual. Except when one of them was caught—usually Padfoot because he is the most reckless and always stays close to the wolf—Moony was feral. Way more than usual. There's nothing to do about it. They all know some moons are better than others and the late October one was horrible.
James had to physically drag Sirius away from the Shack, because he refused to leave Remus there alone. Shivering and naked. Bruised and wounded, though nothing severe. At least there's that. Remus hasn't hurt himself gravely since they became animagi.
It's over now. Peter is scouting ahead to make sure they can get back to the dorm safely. James and Sirius are limping through the corridors, helping each other stay upright. They're bruised and bloody too, but they're whole and they got Remus through another moon. That's all that matters.
Peter helps James to his bed after they've both put Sirius on his. The dorm is quiet, sombre. It always is the dawn of a full moon. Peter fusses around them, going through the motions of a ritual they perfected a long time ago. He brings water for them, and wet cloth to wipe the grime from the forest from their skin. Then, Peter goes to the one drawer they're allowed to open in Remus' side of the room and pulls out two vials. He gives one to Sirius and one to James. They drink it immediately, because it tastes absolutely vile so if they hesitate they won't drink it.
"Godric's sword at the bottom of the lake," Sirius says. "That tastes like the soles of Pete's boots."
Peter only snorts, smug that he doesn't have to take the medicine. "You need to recover. We've got Order training on Sunday."
Sirius and James nod miserably, finishing off the potion through grimaces and groans. "Did you notice Dumbledore wasn't at breakfast or lunch today?"
Sirius flops back on his bed. "He's probably with Alastor, right? Fighting them off? Making them pay."
Alastor has become somewhat of a hero for Sirius. He's a little obsessed with the man, in a 'I want to be you when I grow up' kind of way. When he found out it wouldn't be Moody himself coming to Hogsmeade to train them, he was very disappointed.
"What do you think it will be like?" Peter asks. "When we're in the Order."
"We're already in the Order," James croaks, coughing through the aftertaste of the medicine.
Sirius grins. "Yes, we are. All of us. It's so fucking brilliant. We're going to end this war, Prongs. You, and me, and Moony, and Wormy."
Peter beams, but fidgets with his hands a little. "It'll be dangerous though. Won't it?"
"It makes it more fun," Sirius says. "If it were easy everyone would do it. And it's not going to be just anyone. It'll be us. The saviours of the wizarding world."
"I like the sound of that," says James, smiling. "We are heroes."
Peter rolls his eyes. "Not yet. But yeah. Sounds good, doesn't it?"
They all drift to their own fantasies, which in James' case include a standing ovation in a crowded room. His parents are in the front row. On one side of them is Sirius who has an arm thrown over Remus—in James' head these two have been together for years—and Peter who's with Olive. On the other, Regulus looks at him with pride and a smile so big and bright he shames the star he's named after.
Regulus.
James wants to see him. Desperately. He hopes his day isn't too busy. Perhaps he can sneak away at some point? If he sent him a note for an impromptu meeting in the middle of the day, would he come?
James doesn't think so, but worth a thought, no?
James also kind of wants to ask Regulus about a small incident he apparently had with Remus during their prefect patrol. Remus didn't tell them much about it at all, only that something happened. A 'run in' with a bunch of Slytherins, then Regulus appeared in his capacity as prefect and put an end to it.
Apparently, Peter was involved, too. He says he saw Remus on the map and went to check it out, because Sirius and James were in the Astronomy Tower, and he knew that meant serious business. James and Sirius corralled Peter and interrogated him about it, but Peter also dismissed it as not important.
So, really, James is reaching. He knows he is. James just wants to see him, really. He wishes he didn't have an entire day of lessons ahead of him. Lessons without Regulus because he's a year behind.
Ugh.
"Remind me what's on the schedule for today," James says, looking towards Peter.
"Transfiguration first thing," Peter says. "Then I'm off to Herbology and I think you guys have Alchemy."
Sirius groans as he pushes himself up on his elbows to look at his friends. "Remus has Advanced Arithmancy. So, I'll go to that and you take Alchemy, Prongs."
James nods in agreement. Remus doesn't like having to ask people for class notes after the full moon. He thinks it brings attention to his absences, and lives in constant fear of someone finding out. So, for the past two years, Sirius and James have worked out a system where they alternate and go to Remus' electives so they can write down what the class is about. Half the time, neither of them have any idea what's going on, but their note taking is thorough and Remus has never complained.
The medicine begins to take effect, and James feels a bit better. It's never perfect, and he'll ache all day, but at least he won't limp. Sirius twists his torso, and his spine makes a cracking noise. Peter is already discarding his clothes so he can be the first one to shower. He never gets hurt, because he's so small, so he's always taken the role of caregiver once the moon is over. James loves him for it.
Sirius and James flop back onto their beds when the shower turns on. "I need to sleep for a year," Sirius grunts. "How do you think Moony's feeling?"
"Like shit, most likely. He goes through the absolute worst. But also, Poppy's got him. So," James shrugs even though he's lying down and there's no real point to it.
"Thank Godric for Poppy," Sirius says with feeling.
James agrees. He turns his head to look at his best friend, who's already looking at him. His eyebrows furrow like he can read James' mind and knows what he's going to say. James grimaces, then says, "I'm seeing him tonight. Just… just so you know."
He doesn't need to tell Sirius who he's talking about. He knows. Sirius rolls his eyes, covers them with an arm dramatically thrown over his head. "Godric have mercy on me. How often is that going to happen now?"
"Ehm… pretty often?"
"Have a day off. How often is often? That's... Prongs. Not every day?" Sirius says, lifting his arm to glare at James a little before dropping it back onto his face. "You better be just talking. Keep your hands to yourself. He's my baby brother and you will not… you know. Him. You will not. I forbid it."
"You can't even say it," James teases.
This is a bad idea, because Sirius rolls on his side and stares at James threateningly. He caves, because Sirius is still being reasonable about this and James won't push his luck. Not about Regulus. James snorts. "Listen. It's all very… PG rated. Mostly, he smokes and I talk."
Sirius' eyes widen a bit. "Wait. For real?"
"Yeah," James nods. "I mean. We've kissed. Obviously. I told you. But yeah. We talk."
"What does he talk about?" Sirius asks, biting his lip and scrunching his nose like he doesn't want to ask but his curiosity has got the better of him. And then, "Wait, what? Reggie smokes?"
James does a little head gesture that Sirius understands. He nods permission. And so James slides off his bed and crawls into Sirius'. "He's got some muggle friend that got him hooked on them." Sirius frowns, but James doesn't give him a chance to interrupt him again. "Sirius, it's okay to be curious."
"It's not," he says immediately, almost like it's a knee-jerk response.
"It is," James insists. "He's your brother. And maybe he was stupid the night you ran and made a mistake. What if he regrets it? Would you not want to forgive him and move forward?"
"He chose them over me, James," Sirius says, closing his eyes.
"He was a scared child."
Sirius scoffs. "Has he fed you this sob story? I thought you were smarter than this, Prongs."
"We haven't talked about the really deep stuff yet," James admits. "We're only just… you know, getting to know each other. We've never talked about you, except when I told him I wasn't going to keep this from you."
Sirius hums. Peter opens the door the bathroom, letting out a cloud of steam. Sirius rolls off the bed and disappears into the bathroom without another word. James sighs. It's going to take time, he knows. But he's never been very patient so it's not a surprise he's struggling.
If James could have his way, he'd force Sirius and Regulus to reconcile right now.
Unfortunately, it's never that easy. So James has to learn to wait. To give Sirius time and space.
"You alright, Prongs?" Peter asks him.
"Yeah, Pete," James says. "Just tired. You know."
Peter runs a comb through his hair. Looks at James. "You don't have to tell me, but I know something's up. Just… well. I'm here, alright? If you need anything."
James smiles at his friend. His heart grows a little, like it does every time he reminds himself of how lucky he is. How many people he loves. "Thanks Pete. I… well, something is going on. But I can't really talk about it," James says. "But thank you."
"Anytime," Peter smiles, too.
Rolling on the bed to sit up, James puts his chin on his knee. "How's Olive?"
Peter's cheeks flush and he smiles big and bright. And then, he starts to tell James about how amazing his chaser is. She's funny, and kind, and apparently likes listening to Peter rant about plants. She's into herbology, too.
When Sirius emerges out of the shower, he finds Peter giggling and James hyping him up and immediately joins in the fun. He teases Peter good naturedly about his girlfriend, despite Peter insisting that they haven't yet spoken about whether they're officially together or not.
By the time James has his shower, they're all running late so they have to skip breakfast. This sets them up for a miserable transfiguration double class. But McGonagall knows the full moon is always hard for them. She has no idea about the animagi part, but she knows they struggle because it's hard to watch how it affects Remus. So, despite being strict and a little terrifying at times, the day after the full McGonagall always gives them a free pass. She looks the other way. She doesn't tell them off when Sirius nods off for a few minutes or when James keeps knocking over the cup they're supposed to be transfiguring.
James catches Regulus' eye on the way into the Great Hall for lunch, and once again he wishes they had a way of telling each other something. Anything. It's a little bit like torture seeing Regulus but not being able to talk to him.
Regulus' face remains blank, a little scowl-y. But he doesn't break eye contact with James until Crouch says something to him and Regulus has to look away. James clings to it, to the small gesture. It's got to mean something, right?
The three of them eat lunch at record speed, shovelling food into their mouth like they've never seen it before. They're in and out of the Great Hall in fifteen minutes, which leaves them forty-five to go see Remus in the infirmary.
Sirius wraps two sweet bread rolls in a large napkin and pockets them, because they all know Remus loves them and they're not served very often. Peter gives Olive a quick kiss which makes James and Sirius whoop and Peter's cheeks turn red, and then they're out.
James knows the smells of the infirmary better than he should. Better than he would like to. They've been here too many times, he thinks. But it can't be helped. Even if they didn't get hurt playing pranks on fellow students—which they did, and often—there are at least eight full moons in a school year. That's eight too many.
White tiles, white sheets, metal bedframes. It's all so familiar James can picture it with his eyes closed. And isn't that tragic? He was only eleven the first time he wound up here after their first prank. It went well, but he fell down as he ran to avoid getting caught and broke his ankle. Sirius carried him all the way to the infirmary later that day.
As his nose tingles through the strong stench of disinfectant and metal, James wonders if they should have spent their time differently. If they should have caused less chaos. The world is on fire outside of these walls, and they spent so much time just pranking people for no reason. Well. Okay. Reason. It was genuinely hilarious and they had so much fucking fun. It was epic, and they hold no less than three school records—most detentions, longest streak of losing the house cup on purpose (much to Minnie's eternal dismay), and voted the coolest kids in Hogwarts for four—this will be fifth—year in a row in the annual student survey ran by whoever is the gossipmonger that year.
But what if they'd been getting better at magic instead? What if?
James knows Regulus thinks it's not his fault, and he appreciated his words so much yesterday. It honestly helped him a lot. But he carries the guilt anyway. He thinks maybe there was another way. One that didn't end up with the man dead in such a horrible way.
He pushes the thoughts away as soon as they reach their friend's bed. Remus is nestled in a cocoon of blankets, half-sitting up with a bunch of pillows behind him. He looks tired and a bit haggard, but on the way up. It's always like this. The morning is the worst, and then he starts to recover until a day and half or so later he's mostly fine. Until the next moon. Over, and over again.
"Hey Moony," Sirius says softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Hey Pads," Remus says. He sounds tired, but looks at Sirius with the same mixture of joy, longing, and protectiveness he always does. "I'm alright. Will be fine tomorrow."
Sirius takes the buns out of his pocket and shows them to Remus with a proud smile. "Here. Maybe these help?"
He sounds so earnest, so eager to help. To make it better for Remus. James feels his heart melt a little. Sirius stares at Remus with a naked expression of pure adoration that makes him look younger. Softer. The Sirius he could have been if he'd been born to anyone but Walburga Black.
Remus, in turn, fights to hide his reaction. His jaw tenses and his lips become a thin line for a fraction of a second. His eyes flutter closed. Remus sighs, then recovers and takes the buns off Sirius. "Thank you, Pads."
"Anytime, Moony." Sirius smiles.
Remus' jaw unclenches, then clenches again, a small muscle ticking there. It's too much, too soon. Remus is always a bit volatile before and after the moon and Sirius is affecting him too much right now. He's usually alright at dealing with his emotions, but obviously not today. They need to help him, because Sirius is one oblivious idiot.
James is going to intervene when Peter beats him to it, also reading the mood-change in his friend. "Hey," Peter asks, stepping closer. "What's wrong?"
Remus shakes his head, fake-yawns so poorly James doesn't think anyone's bought it. "It was just a hard one. I need rest."
And James thinks he understands. It has given him a lot of insight, this thing with Regulus. Because if the boy he likes did something as sweet for him as Sirius just did for Remus and he wasn't allowed to show how it made him feel in any way… James would probably want to be left alone, too.
Shuffling closer, James takes Remus' hand and gives it a little squeeze. "Hey. It's okay. We'll let you rest."
Remus looks at him gratefully, but Sirius is frowning. Concerned. "Moony? What's wrong?"
James lets go of Remus so he can tug on Sirius' hand and he lets himself be dragged back a little bit, but he's still looking at Remus like he doesn't understand why he's being told to leave. James gets this, too. Because Sirius is always there for Remus in the aftermath. Always. Every single moon since they found out.
It seems Remus has reached his breaking point, however. Because he looks at Sirius with the same love and longing he always does, but also with a kind of resignation that scares James. Like Remus is defeated. Like he is, perhaps, giving up on Sirius in that way. James becomes a little agitated. Remus just can't be. He can't be done. Can't give up. James doesn't want him to be because Remus doesn't know it, but Sirius is just as gone for him as Remus is for Sirius. They just can't see it.
James wonders not for the first time if they should just do something about it. But Sirius spooks easily. And he's got too much shit to deal with. He could react badly. That would be worse.
So, James holds his tongue, and Remus says, "I just need to be alone for a bit, okay? Thanks for these Pads. You're the best friend anyone could wish for."
Sirius sighs, accepts defeat. He nods. "Alright. Whatever you need."
He doesn't speak a word for the rest of the afternoon. James doesn't push him.
Notes:
Wolfstar are KILLING ME.