Chapter 9: Matchmaker Meadowes
Notes:
Hello hello!
First of all, thanks to the 110 people who have left kudos! Literally, y'all make my day :) And to the people who take the time to comment... you're the MVP. Thank you 3
We get an interlude in this chapter and it's the queen herself, Dorcas Meadowes!!
TWs
Anxiety
Internalized homophobia
Smoking / cigarettes
Mentions of cruelty
Mentions of past child abuse and child neglect
I think that's it! I hope you're enjoying the story :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Regulus would very much like to stop needing to hide in empty classrooms to have meltdowns. This is ridiculous. He doesn't do this shit. He's cool, collected. He's Regulus Fucking Black, master of his emotions, chairman of his body. He's a dragon, for fucks sake. His friends said so.
And yet. He's hiding in a room and hyperventilating.
Again.
Seriously pathetic. He kissed Barty yesterday and didn't have a breakdown over it. A proper kiss, with tongues and everything! And he was fine. In fact, it was all very civil. Barty gave him some pointers for improvements. Regulus thanked him. Barty expressed gratitude that Regulus had helped him out. They re-confirmed that they had agreed never to do it again. Case closed. No dramatics. No displays of emotion of any kind.
But James fucking Potter winks at him and he's on the verge of literal death.
Regulus is overwhelmed. Because James. Did James just? Was he… he said his eyes are lovely. And he… he implied that he… maybe?
Regulus doesn't know what to think.
The idea that James might not be straight is outlandish. It goes against everything Regulus knows about him. James is the typical teenage douchebag. Isn't he?
Arrogant, because he's attractive and he knows it. Superficial, because he's only dated other hot people. Loud and obnoxious because he loves attention. He's self-righteous and a hot head.
Regulus knows that none of these things are mutually exclusive with being queer.
It's just. Well.
James can't like boys, can he? This has to be an elaborate prank. Except. He said it wasn't. Regulus knows better than to simply believe someone's word, but James does have a point. It doesn't make sense. If this was a prank, it would go down differently. Regulus has seen—and been the victim of, along the rest of Slytherin—a hundred pranks over the years. This is not their modus operandi.
So, then what is happening? Why?
The cigarettes in his pocket are calling him. He wants nothing more than to ditch lessons and go somewhere to smoke. The fact that it was James Potter of all people who got these to him is mindboggling. It's hurting Regulus' brain to try and work this out.
Because. If James does like boys. Then what? It's one thing to accept the earth-shattering truth that James could be queer. It's another thing entirely that he would like Regulus.
He can't.
Someone like James Potter doesn't like someone like Regulus Black.
Loud and obnoxious doesn't go well with mean and quiet. And yes, Regulus is horrifically attracted to James but that's because Regulus is broken. Any normal, sane person would be repulsed by their opposite. Especially if their opposite is the Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.
But James said—
No.
He's not going there. Not now. Not ever. He needs to focus. Think about revenge, and everything he needs to learn and do before it's time. He needs to figure out how to sort out the mess they've made of things—Barty and Regulus—and fix it with Evan. Because he doesn't know they kissed and he's still giving them the cold shoulder over the Charms lesson situation. If Evan finds out they made out, he'll kill them both in their sleep. As much as Regulus sympathises, he can't die. Not yet. He's got a revenge plan to enact.
So. He's got a lot going on and James Potter will not derail him. He won't allow it.
Regulus has half a mind to throw the cigarettes away, but he can't bring himself to doing it. No matter where they came from, the truth is that he's been dying to get his hands on some. It would be fucking stupid to not take advantage of this.
So, he keeps them, and plans to go enjoy his first smoke that night.
Dorcas ambushes Regulus as soon as he steps into the library. She's been waiting for him, he can tell. A stab of guilt pierces him, because Dorcas must have been here for a while. But he won't share the empty classroom he's commandeered for his practice. That's one secret he can't let slip. The residual dark magic in the air would give him away immediately and Regulus will not risk Dorcas getting wind of his plans and trying to stop him.
Dorcas has re-braided her hair, and she has added small adornments to it this time. It looks pretty fucking cool, and Regulus wishes he was the kind of person who could say these things out loud. He understands girls like it when you compliment them. Too bad Regulus doesn't know how to do it.
Dorcas shoots him a sideways glance. "Where have you been?"
She walks with him as he crosses the space towards the table at the very back, between the stacks of history of magic books. No one ever comes near. It's Regulus' favourite spot. Quiet. Secluded.
"Potions lab," he says, smooth. He's a good liar, Regulus. Has to be, living with someone like Walburga Black.
"I checked. You weren't there."
They turn the corner. As expected, the desk here is empty. If it weren't for Regulus, it would be covered in dust. It's long, with room for five or six people if Regulus was the kind of person to do study groups. Which he isn't. He doesn't like crowds.
Regulus takes out his books and spreads them over the desk. He's got a system, and put the books down according to it. It helps him focus. Helps him keep his thoughts organized.
"I was in Slughorn's room."
"Ah," Dorcas says. She nods, drags a chair away from the desk and sits down, careful not to touch Regulus' books or parchments. "What are you making in there?"
"It's best if you don't know," Regulus replies.
It's not entirely a lie. Regulus has been using Slughorn's private potions room, just not today. The potion he's brewing needs a lot of time to rest, so he doesn't really need to go check on it yet.
Slughorn thinks he's simply being ambitious. He has no idea Regulus has actual plans for Felix Felicis, if it turns out the way it should. The annoying thing about it is that it requires six months of brewing, so Regulus had no choice but to start it at Hogwarts. Fortunately, Slughorn loved the idea of Regulus setting himself a challenge. He may or may not have implied that if he manages to make it right, he'll be recommending him for a spot in the Great British Brew-Off.
Regulus would rather cuddle a manticore than participate of such stupidity, but whatever lets Slughorn sleep at night and keep his nose out of his business.
"How's Slughorn just letting you experiment?" Dorcas asks.
Regulus shrugs. "He's happy to bend the rules a little for a Black."
Dorcas hums, but let's it drop. That's not what she's here for. Regulus knows. He thought Pandora might try to pry it out of him. He would have preferred that. Dorcas is… special to him. Lying is more difficult, but he's not above it.
Dorcas puts her elbow on the desk, letting her chin rest on it. Her braids fall over her shoulder, onto the table. She raises an eyebrow at Regulus.
"Well?"
Regulus stares back. Blank.
"Are you really going to make me ask?" she says, frowning.
Regulus picks up a quill, dips it in his ink bottle. "I don't know what you're on about."
Dorcas reaches past him and slams his notebook shut. "Don't bullshit me, Reg. There's something going on with Evan and I want to know what. Start talking."
He sighs, rubs his temples. What's he supposed to say? He can't tell Dorcas. It's not his business. He's involved because this is just his life now, apparently. Regulus Black is part of some pseudo romantic drama. It's like a bad nightmare he can't wake up from. But also, none of this is his to share. He's not about to out Barty to her, and he has seen the signs that point to Evan's crush on their friend but that's also just none of his business.
"Like you're telling me why you've filled your hair with shinny shit?"
Dorcas opens her mouth. Closes it. Purses her lips. "Okay. I have a crush," Dorcas says. "I'm hoping she'll notice me. She came to talk to me during the Forbidden Forest party, but I couldn't tell if she's… you know, like me or not. It was ambiguous."
Regulus stares at her, lost. He didn't think Dorcas would actually admit to this. Now that she has, he's got no idea how to proceed. What does one say to this sort of confession?
"Ah," is what comes out of Regulus' mouth.
Dorcas smirks. "Nice try, Reg. But not everyone is as emotionally constipated as you are. I've no issue admitting I like someone. I'd even tell you who she is, if I weren't worried that you'd do something to her."
"Why? She hasn't rejected you, has she?" Regulus asks, suspicious.
Dorcas laughs. "No. But she might. And that's okay."
"No."
"Yes, Regulus," Dorcas says fondly. "It's okay. I know it's a possibility and I take the risk. Because she might reject me, but she might not. And that's good enough."
"You're insane," Regulus replies, sounding as disgusted as he feels. Why is Dorcas so careless? This is why he needs to look out for her. Protect her.
"And you're adorable."
Regulus recoils. "Don't make me hurt you."
She chuckles, shakes her head. Sits back on her chair with a sigh. "She's gorgeous, Reg. I hope she notices me."
"If she doesn't, I will take her eyes out. It's not like they're working anyway."
Dorcas makes an alarmed noise. "Enough of that. Violence isn't the answer. Not always, anyway." She taps a finger on the desk, studies Regulus for a while.
He goes back to scribbling notes on his parchment, glad that Dorcas seems to be done with talking. To his dismay, it lasts a whole three minutes. Dorcas nudges him with a very gentle tap of her shoe against his. He ignores it. She does it again. Regulus has no choice but to put his quill down and look at his friend.
"What now?"
"What did you do to Evan?" she asks softly.
"Nothing."
"What did Barty do to Evan that you're helping cover up?"
"You need to ask Evan," Regulus says.
Dorcas smiles. "I already did. Pandora and I did."
Regulus has to give her points for thoroughness. They've been friends for years, something had to rub off on her, and Regulus is glad it's something useful.
He looks at her, face blank. A mask of contempt. "Then, you know."
"I know that Evan thinks you're having a secret, torrid affair with Barty," Dorcas delivers this like it's the most normal thing in the world. She could be telling him that it's raining outside for all she cares. Regulus is low-key impressed.
"Except if you were having an affair with Barty, you would tell me." Dorcas looks at him, and she hesitates. Regulus feels guilty again. "Wouldn't you?"
He cannot believe this is happening to him right now. Seriously. Half an hour ago he was in an empty classroom practicing curses that can kill a person in six different ways and now he's sitting here while one of his closest friends asks him about boys.
It's embarrassing and not what a revenge mastermind should be doing. "Dorcas," Regulus says. "There aren't enough words in the English language for me to explain to you how much I am not having an affair with Barty."
"Oh, thank Salazar."
"Or with anyone," he adds for good measure.
Regulus picks his quill up again. Opens one of his notebooks. Dorcas isn't done, apparently. She puts her hand over the page. He looks at her once, a warning. Dorcas doesn't move, so he draws on her hand. He makes a star, because he can't draw to save his life and isn't about to embarrass himself attempting anything else.
"Reg!" Dorcas complains. "That won't come off for a day!"
"I'm trying to get some studying done," he deadpans.
Dorcas shakes her head, grimaces. "You're not having an affair with Barty but something is going on. What the fuck is going on, Reg? Evan is not happy."
"Evan needs to tell Barty how he feels," Regulus says, not looking up from his parchment even though he's totally lost his train of thought and isn't reading any of the words on the page.
"How do you know how Evan feels?" Dorcas' suspicious tone is making him anxious.
"Obvious to anyone with a pair of working eyes."
"Is it now?"
Regulus is getting a headache. Dorcas is relentless and he loves her for it, except not when he's on the receiving end. He leans back on his chair, runs a hand through his curls. "Listen. Barty had a crisis. And he needed someone to talk to and he came to me. That's all I can tell you. But really, Evan and Barty need to talk," Regulus sounds tired and frankly? He is. This is exhausting.
"Why did Barty go to you and not Evan about his crisis?"
Regulus isn't the least bit offended by this because he asked Barty the exact same question. And this, at least, he can answer because it's not a secret. "We both have shit parents. And Barty… he just said it couldn't be Evan."
Dorcas laughs. An actual chortle. "Oh fuck, this is so messy. So, Barty likes Evan, freaks out about it, and what, flirts with you?"
She's not wrong. And Regulus just wants her to go away now, because she is his friend but he needs peace and quiet to work and Dorcas is taking way too much of his time. So, Regulus nods. "Basically?"
Dorcas runs a hand over her face. "Boys are such idiots. I swear to Salazar. Alright. Okay. I need to go talk to Barty now." She purses her lips, tilts her head and looks at Regulus. "What did it feel like?"
"What did what feel like?"
"Flirting with someone," Dorcas says. "A boy. A good looking boy at that."
And Regulus. Well. Regulus kind of wants to tell her. Because he hasn't told a soul and he should, right? A first kiss is the sort of thing you share. Except. He doesn't know how. He can't just. Start giggling and whispering. He doesn't think he's physically capable of that.
But he also won't leave Dorcas hanging. Regulus smirks. "It was nice, I guess."
"Just nice? Well, I guess so. It's not like you fancy Barty." Her eyes go very, very wide. "Do you fancy Barty?"
"No," Regulus says. Firmly. Confidently. Because it's one hundred percent true.
"Alright. Well, when someone you do fancy flirts with you, I want to hear all about it. Okay?" She gets up. "Now, I'm going to go find Barty and talk some sense into him."
Regulus isn't paying attention anymore, though. Because his brain hates him, apparently. His brain has pulled up the memory of this morning. James, smiling as he pointed his wand at him. James, telling him his eyes are lovely. James, winking at him.
He can't tell Dorcas. But in the privacy of this dark corner of the library, Regulus can perhaps for a single second admit that when someone you fancy flirts with you, it's fucking mindblowing.
Interlude: Dorcas POV
Barty Crouch is not Dorcas' favourite. She likes him well enough, but there's a glint to his eye that makes her nervous sometimes. Barty is dangerous. It sets her on edge, even though Barty has never directed his particular brand of crazy towards her. Dorcas knows he never will, because they're friends, and Barty is loyal.
But it makes Dorcas uncomfortable to know, deep down, the things Barty is capable of. Or, perhaps, not the things he's capable of but how little it would take for him to do it.
Dorcas is aware that there's something slightly hypocritical about this, because she considers Regulus Black her best friend. She thinks—hopes—that he thinks of her as his best friend, too. It's hard to tell with Regulus, because he's allergic to feelings.
Still. Regulus is mean, and detached, and wears his mask of indifference like armour. But Dorcas knows, she knows, deep down that Regulus cares. In his own way. He cares about some things. He cares about her. And about Pandora. Barty and Evan, too.
And Regulus is capable of dark shit. Dorcas is fully aware of the fact that Regulus is very likely capable of murder. Possibly torture. He's mean when feels cornered or out of control, and he's calculating when he wants to be. The difference between Regulus and Barty is that Regulus only does what he feels needs to be done, and he considers his options. Always. To be horrible, Regulus needs motive. Reason. Plans and actions. Barty only needs to have a bad day to do something insane. Something irrevocable.
Still. Barty is her friend, and he hasn't yet fallen off the cliff. Dorcas is an optimist, and she thinks that perhaps they can collectively keep Barty from falling. Besides, she does like Evan and Evan is having a rough time.
Dorcas finds Barty in the Slytherin common room. He's talking to Mulciber, of all people. Dorcas is happy to interrupt whatever that is, and Barty doesn't put up any resistance when she drags him away to a corner.
"What was that about?" she asks him, gesturing towards Mulciber with her head.
Barty shrugs. "He's asking sixth years what we want to do when we leave school."
Oh. Interesting.
"What do you want to do?" This isn't what Dorcas needs to talk about with Barty, but she's curious. She has no idea what she wants to do when she leaves school. Because the world is falling apart outside of these walls, and it makes Dorcas nervous to think about it. Her family haven't put any pressure on her but she knows there's some level of expectation.
Her cousin has become a Death Eater, and a few people in her family are loudly proud. Not her parents, for which Dorcas is enormously grateful. Still. Dorcas can't ignore reality for much longer.
"Whatever will piss my father off the most," Barty replies. "He's the head of crime fighting, so I think I'm going to do crime."
Dorcas sighs. "Anything in particular?"
"Smuggling, maybe? I don't know." Barty stretches his arms over his head. "What did you want to talk about anyway?"
Dorcas looks at him carefully. There's something different about Barty, and she can't put her finger on it. Evan noticed it, too. He told her and Pandora. It's driving him insane, because Evan asked Barty and he denied everything. Dorcas thinks she knows why, and her little chat with Regulus helped her confirm it.
"Have you spoken to Evan recently?" she asks casually.
Barty frowns, leans forward. "We share a room. Obviously, I speak to him every day."
Dorcas shakes her head, gathers her braids over one shoulder. "I mean like, really talk. Has he told you yet?"
"Told me what?" Barty's shoulders tense, and Dorcas wants to smile. She doesn't.
Dorcas looks around, pretending she's worried about being overheard. Barty's on the edge of his seat. Dorcas leans closer, too. Drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "He's got a crush on someone."
The blood drains from Barty's face. It's all the proof Dorcas needs that she's right about Evan and Barty. And she's going to meddle because she doesn't trust them to sort this out by themselves. And because, honestly, they need her help. These two are useless.
"Who?" Barty asks, voice strained.
Dorcas leans even closer. "I don't know. Evan won't tell me." She makes a point to sound annoyed, frustrated. "I have a suspect, though. Evan let it slip it's someone he's close with, and he's not close with a lot of people."
Barty makes an alarmed sound. "Pandora?"
Dorcas shakes her head. "My money's on Regulus."
Barty goes still. Stiff. Dorcas is sure he's not breathing. "Evan… you think he…" Barty swallows. "Boys?"
Dorcas narrows her eyes at him. She reaches forward and grabs Barty's tie, tugging him so close she can feel his breath on her face. "If you say some homophobic shit, Barty Crouch, I will chop your dick off."
Barty laughs. He laughs, then presses his forehead against Dorcas. "Fuck, Meadowes. You too? We're one fucked up bunch."
Dorcas releases him. Barty's still laughing. She waits it out.
Are they fucked up? Dorcas doesn't think so, but she can see why Barty does. Barty has grown up in an environment that doesn't allow for any deviation from what his father thinks is the 'right way to be.' It's not his fault, but it's fucking sad. Still. Dorcas is proud of Barty for the progress he's made. It takes courage, and she can respect that.
Dorcas decides to be a little braver herself. Next time she sees Marlene McKinnon, she's going to do something. Say something. Find out if she likes girls, too. Because Dorcas hasn't been able to stop thinking about her since the party and that means something. Dorcas wants to find out what.
While Dorcas daydreams about McKinnon, Barty calms down, runs a hand over his face. "Fuck, Dorcas," he says. "Who would have guessed?"
She shrugs. "It's a lot more common than you think, Barty. People just keep it quiet."
"Reg said the same thing," Barty muses. Then, his brain catches up to the conversation they were having and all amusement drops off his face.
"So, you think Evan likes Reg?" Barty asks. It's a whisper, like he's worried saying it louder will make it true.
Dorcas shrugs. "Well. Who else?"
Barty drops his head in his hands. Breathes deep. "Fuck. That's why he's been so weird lately. Because he saw… he thinks… Fuck." He looks up at Dorcas. "But I didn't mean. I was just… I didn't know. And Reg? Evan can't like Reg. He can't!"
"Why not?" Dorcas asks, even though she knows the reason for Barty's distress.
"Because I…" Barty chokes. "Fuck. I'm…" He closes his eyes. "Evan can't like Reg."
"Barty…"
"I kissed Regulus."
The words fall from his lips like stones. They clink between them, feeling the space with surprised awe.
"You what?!" Dorcas can't help it. She shouts. It's… what? She doesn't know what's more shocking. Regulus I can't stand even accidental touch Black making out with Barty Crouch, or Barty Crouch admitting something like this to Dorcas. And Regulus... the little shit didn't say anything! Ah, Dorcas is going to kill him.
He seems to realise this, too, because Barty is now full on panicking. "Shit. Shit. Dorcas, you can't tell anyone. I shouldn't have said that. It just slipped. I wasn't… Fuck. Evan can't know, okay?"
Dorcas lets out a long breathe. "Merlin's balls, Barty. What the fuck? When did this happen?"
"Reg didn't tell you?"
"No," Dorcas says, trying to hide the hurt from her voice. "He didn't tell me."
Barty rubs his temples with his fingers. Bites his lip. Groans. When he looks at Dorcas again, the look on his face is raw and a little desperate. "I only… I don't fancy Reg. I… do you think Evan… really?"
"Well," Dorcas says cautiously, because Barty is on the verge of a meltdown and she feels bad for him. She's still processing the fact that Regulus and Barty kissed, but this is about Evan. She can't lose focus. "Evan said it was one of his close friends. He let it slip that it was a he, and I thought Reg because I knew… Reg had told me he liked boys."
Dorcas lets this sit for a bit. She waits, patient. Barty has to figure this out for himself.
The common room is busy for a Wednesday afternoon, but no one is paying them attention. Snape is sitting with Mulciber and some of the other Seventh years. They're whispering and scheming. Dorcas looks away. Finds the girls from her year. Their hair is still colourful, which makes Dorcas smile every time she remembers it.
"Evan didn't tell you it was Reg?" Barty asks, soft. It's the softest Dorcas has ever heard him. "Like, specifically?"
"No. I assumed it was. I don't think Evan realised he let it slip it was a boy at all," she tells him. "He only said it was a close friend."
"I see," Barty replies. And he does. Dorcas can tell.
Her work here is done. The seed is planted. It's up to Barty now whether he'll do something about it. Dorcas hopes he does. Because she thinks that if this works out, it might be the things that keeps Barty off the edge. Because happiness like that… it has power. It can soothe and help a person become better. Barty has a dark, insane side to him, but Dorcas thinks if there's someone who can smooth them over… well.
"I'm glad you do," Dorcas says, standing up. "Good luck."
Barty stands up, too. He looks at Dorcas. Smirks at her. "You knew the entire time, didn't you?"
Dorcas shrugs. "Maybe."
She winks at him, and leaves him. Barty is climbing the stairs to his dorm two at a time before Dorcas has time to even reach the door to the girls' staircase.
Quidditch practice goes swimmingly. James feels like he could wrestle a Hippogriff and win. His team is absolutely killing it. They've been at it for two hours, but it felt like five minutes. That's how much fun they were having. They only stopped because it got too dark for it to be safe, especially with the rabid bludgers zooming around.
Sirius tackles him as soon as they land. James falls backwards on the grass, Sirius sprawled on top of him.
"Oi, Black! Stop harassing our Captain. If you injure him before the game, I'll kill you," Olive, one of their chasers, sixth year, shouts.
Sirius gives her the middle finger and Marlene cackles. "Come on, Olive. Leave them to their bromance. Nothing can come between those two."
Olive mutters something about James' safety around a lunatic, but the girls disappear towards the changing rooms and it's just him and Sirius, still on the ground. Sirius is humming happily, completely unbothered that his knee is dangerously close to killing James' hopes of being a father one day.
"You're about to knee my balls," James warns when Sirius shifts his weight. "If you want to be an uncle, you'll remove your leg right now."
"Ah, shit," Sirius says, rolling sideways so he's only half lying on top of James. "Sorry, future little Jameses."
James laughs, because how can he not when Sirius is literally talking to his groin? The man is crazy. James loves him.
"That was some really good Quidditch we played today," Sirius says. "Third cup for Gryffindor is in the bag."
James beams, lets his head hit the ground. "I can't believe we're leaving school in…seven months? Eight? Not long. Not long enough." He puts his hands behind his head. Sirius snuggles close, head on his chest. "I'm going to miss this place."
"Stop talking," Sirius says. "Don't talk about sad shit. We don't do sad shit."
Sirius pokes James' stomach, making him flinch with his entire body. They laugh. It's a clear night, temperature starting to drop as they get closer to October. The moon is waxing, which makes James' sigh. Late next week will be the first full moon of seventh year.
"Oh, look!" Sirius says, pointing up. "It's me! Hi! Brightest star in the sky, ladies and gentlemen."
James smiles even though Sirius can't see it. He lets Sirius ramble on about astronomy for a little while before they fall into a silence. Comfortable. Intimate. Sirius is the only person in the world whose silences don't make James nervous.
Sirius lights a cigarette. Smokes in peace. James wonders if Regulus is smoking tonight, too. He wants to go and check the map. See if he's snuck out of the Slytherin dorms for it. Where would Regulus go? He hopes it's somewhere quite common, like the astronomy tower. That way, James could show up, too. Pretend it was a coincidence. Perhaps Regulus would talk to him, then.
"We should go see Rosmerta," Sirius says, pushing himself up so he can look down at James. "Just us. Let's sneak out."
Concern spreads from James' gut all the way to his fingers and toes. Sirius hasn't asked to go see Rosmerta in a very long time. Sure, they went to have a drink every so often in Sixth year but it was during Hogsmeade visits or weekend nights. But a random Wednesday? It makes James think back to fifth year, and that's bad news.
"Are you okay Pads?" James asks.
Sirius shrugs, attempts nonchalance. But his eyes dart around, not meeting James' and he's not spent the past six years attached at the hip to this guy to not know how to read him.
"Yeah. It's not… I won't drink anything other than butter beer. I promise. It's not like that. I just need to be out for a bit." He runs a hand over his face, keeps it around his chin, like he's holding something in. Something he wants to say but doesn't know how.
James sits up, pulls Sirius into a hug. Sirius melts into him immediately. James presses his face into Sirius' hair. "Whatever it is that's bothering you, you can tell me. You have to tell me, because we face our shit together, okay?"
"I'm not ready," he whispers into the crook of James' neck.
And James understands. Because he's not ready either, is he? He hasn't told Sirius about Regulus yet. Not that there is much to tell, but James knows if it was anyone else he was crushing on, he would have blabbed already. Sirius would know every little thing, from the way James' stomach flutters when he catches a glimpse of Regulus, to his suspicions that he has some sort of danger kink, to the way his skin breaks into goosebumps when Regulus says something mean to him.
Sirius would know, and he would make fun of James for it, but he'd also be the best wingman. If it was anyone else, James knows they would have at least talked to him already because Sirius would have helped make it happen.
Except. He can't tell Sirius. Not yet, anyway. Not until James knows more. Knows whether Regulus regrets saying no when Sirius asked him to leave with him that night. Whether Regulus misses his brother. Whether there's hope for reconciliation or not.
"So… Three Broomsticks?" Sirius asks, still buried in the space between James' neck and shoulder.
James wanted to try and meet Regulus tonight, but Sirius needs him. So, Regulus has to wait. Because as intrigued as he is, as much as he wants to lay eyes on that beautiful, mean face again… Sirius comes first. Always. No matter what or who.
James squeezes his friend and says, "I need a shower first, but yeah. Let's grab the cloak and the map. I'm sure Rosmerta's been missing you."
Sirius smiles at him and it's grateful. It's loving. It's the best smile James has ever seen. It's a smile that James would die for.
"Thanks, Prongs."
"Anytime."
The boys leave the Quidditch pitch together. And later that night, they sit in the Three Broomsticks with Rosmerta and have butter beer and joke around. They make her laugh so hard she has tears on her rosy cheeks, and Sirius is thriving on the attention, and the warmth of the pub, and the fact that James is right there with him. Always. Forever.
On the way back, Sirius looks at James and nods to himself. He tells James that he feels better. And he promises that when he figures out how to say what's bothering him, he will tell James. James promises him he loves him, no matter what. He tells him that there's nothing he could say to James that would change them. And Sirius' voice cracks a little when he replies "I know, James. I know."
Notes:
Honorable mention to Dorcas 'matchmaker' Meadowes. She's a queen. I love her so much.
Solmussa