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James loves love and he loves loving.
He loves the mornings, warm sun rays dancing on his skin and bright light creating crescents on his carpet. He loves the smell of freshly watered grass sticking over his clothes and the wind messing up his hair when he's flying. The wood under his fingers and the moment he takes off the ground. He loves food, food that tell stories, and spices that burst on his tongue. He loves his ancestral home back in Goa, a sprawling mansion of pristine white marble overlooking the sea. Climbing the gnarled mango trees with his cousins and trying not to get caught. He absolutely loves his friends, their drunken game nights and smuggled chocolates and pranks that blow up in their faces. He loves to dance too, albeit he’s terrible at it. But stepped-on toes and tangled limbs are a part of the charm.
But most of all, James Potter adores Regulus Black.
He can ramble on about how his eyes look just like a raging storm, how he always has ink stains dotting his fingers and splatters of paint on his clothes. How his face lights up and he stumbles over his words when he’s talking about something he loves. How kisses and compliments can unmake him, reducing the eloquent Black heir to a fool in love.
But if Regulus is a fool, then that makes James Potter the biggest idiot in existence.
“Fuck you, Potter.”
And this is why he has fallen in love with him in the first place.
“You’re welcome to fuck me whenever you want, you know?” James teases him, gently trying to free his arm that has fallen asleep under his boyfriend’s weight.
“Shuddup.” He shifts closer, draping his arm across James’s torso. “Come back to sleep, darling.”
James shivers. Darling. Regulus rarely ever calls him by terms of endearment, a remnant of his life before while James makes up for the lack of it. But sometimes, in moments like these, dawn, dusk, and midnight hours, he lets them tumble down his lips.
“Don’t go.” Regulus groggily makes a sound, propping up on his elbows. Prying his arms off him, James blindly pats the nightstand for his glasses. James winces when he knocks down a stack of Regulus’s dusty, old classics.
James staggers on his feet, his head feeling a little woozy from sitting up so quick, and clutches the dark curtains in his fingers.
“Wake up, jaan,” James calls out in a sing-song, flinging them wide open, and Regulus groans, throwing a pillow at his face.
“Ouch.” James pouts, clutching his chest dramatically, even though the feebly aimed pillow doesn't touch him at all. “You wound me.”
“Stop hanging out with my brother.” Regulus rolls his eyes, brushing his wild morning hair out of his eyes. Another thing James loves is teasing Regulus about his bed hair, a topic which he is clearly very touchy about. Call it a sort of sweet vengeance.
“This is not his theatrics that I’ve learned,” James grins, straightening his glasses. “I’ve had a way better teacher.”
“Can’t believe I fell in love with you.” Regulus shakes his head, meaning to be complaining but his voice is soft, a smile playing on his lips.
Neither can James, to be honest.
***
James can’t cook.
His limited skills only go up to microwave pizza and brewing tea. He knows that the threat of an unsupervised boyfriend equipped with kitchen appliances will drag Regulus out of bed.
And so, it does.
James leans against the kitchen counter as Regulus shoots him a dirty look, slipping the apron over his head. His fingers scrape to tie the strings.
“Need some help there?”
Regulus hums and James laughs, reaching out to pull the strings from slender fingers. With a jerk, Regulus stumbles into him, his back pressed against his body.
The proximity makes James a little breathless, and he brushes aside the soft curls from Regulus’s nape, pressing a kiss on the inside of his neck. His teeth graze his skin and Regulus inhales sharply.
“I would ask you to continue,” he mutters, “but I know how you get without breakfast.”
James pulls back, resting his palm on the cold countertop, a teasing lilt to his grin. “You know me so well.”
“Unfortunately,” he says dryly.
Regulus moves so gracefully around the kitchen, hurling the brilliant blue cupboards open. Sunlight streams from the glass windows behind him, catching his eyes and making them look shinier than usual. The packet of flour opens with a puff and he sneezes, quite adorably so in James’s opinion. He pours the batter on the sizzling hot butter. James doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at him.
Regulus turns, wiping his hands on his oversized apron, and raises his eyebrows.
God, he’s gorgeous. And James has zero self-control.
He snakes his arm around Regulus and leans over him. They’re so close now, their breath coming out in puffs. James thumbs the smudge of flour on his nose but ends up spreading it across his cheeks even more. Regulus lets out a breathy chuckle and wraps his arms around his neck, backing him against the wall.
“Kiss me,” Regulus says softly, his lips barely an inch from James’s. James can feel his heart thudding loudly in his chest, his chest rising in rhythm. Years. They’ve been together for years yet little things like these make him giddy.
“With pleasure.” It's hardly discernible as James closes the distance and kisses him gently, feeling his soft lips against his own. He can taste the cloying Vaseline on his tongue and feels Regulus’s finger thread his messy curls. James moans as they deepen the kiss, his glasses awkwardly bumping against Regulus’s forehead.
The kiss is broken when Regulus shrieks.
“Fuck,” Regulus yells frantically, his voice drowning out the smoke alarm that has gone off. “FUCK.”
And that’s when James finally notices it.
Fire. In their kitchen.
The pancakes were burning.
And so was his sleeve.
There’s smoke everywhere now, clouding his vision. Regulus doubles over coughing and drags James away from the fire by his other arm. The sprinklers go off, showering on them both. Regulus is panicking, tears streaming down his face, and hits James with the dishcloth.
But what hurts him more is the realization that he’s so completely, hopelessly in love with him.
Love is a funny thing really. James has spent all his life loving that he used to fear he might run out of it. He loves boldly. Loudly. He wants to thread his fingers with Regulus’s and scream his love for him from rooftops. He wants gentle love too, lazy mornings and back hugs, little pecks on his nose, and bright eyes. Wide smiles. He wants to make him laugh, the twinkle in his eyes as his joy spills over. Dark red lips leaving smears on his neck and brushing wayward strands of hair out of his face.
Being in love feels like magic, real magic. It feels like a dream, like walking on clouds, feet gliding over cold marble, gold slipping through his fingers. It feels like running and running and running and James knows he is never going to stop. He wants this. He wants him.
Forever.
“Jamie,” Regulus croaks out, the dishcloth now charred but his clothes are not on fire anymore. Regulus's hair and clothes are drenched, sticking to his skin. “Are you okay?”
All that James knows at that moment though is that he would gladly carve his heart out of his chest and offer it to him, blood dripping down his fingers and all. So it is that and the reckless, impulsive mouth of his that leads him to blurt out –
“Will you marry me?”
A beat of silence, the only thing audible is the faint ringing of the smoke alarm.
Regulus is staring at him, his swollen red lips – courtesy of their interrupted make-out session – parted in surprise. He opens and closes his mouth but nothing comes out.
“This is not a good time for proposals, Potter, our kitchen is burning,” Regulus hisses when he finally regains his voice.
“Is that a yes then?”
Nothing matters to him then. Not the burnt pancakes, not the raging fire, not even the fact that his own shirt is scorched to pieces. So he asks him again.
“YES, you idiot!” Regulus says hysterically, his voice trembling violently, “Of course, it’s a yes. Now help me put out this fire in our home.”
The sprinklers are raining upon them and everything smells of ashes and smoke but James has never been happier.
The fire’s finally out and there’s water up to his ankles. Regulus is now in his arms, his tiny form pushed close to him, his lips trailing kisses along his jaw.
He tastes salt and pulls apart to see Regulus brushing his tears away. He grabs his waist tighter, so tight as if leaving him would make this all disappear.
Regulus lets out a choked laugh. “I think I’ll need life insurance first.”
***
Regulus still can’t believe it.
He kicks off his shoes, settling himself on Pandora’s couch and fiddling with his empty ring finger. James has given him a family heirloom, a delicate gold ring that belonged to his mother. He loves it and his hands feel starkly empty without it despite the sheer number of other rings adorning them.
His James.
He whips his head as Pandora places the tray on the table, pouring piping hot coffee for him. Her flowy summer dress swishes as she pulls her feet up, leaning against his shoulder.
“How’s engaged life treating you?” she says lightly, her jhumkas rocking back and forth as she blows the steam over the cup.
“Wha-What?” Regulus narrowly manages to not spew hot coffee from his nose and coughs violently. They haven’t told anyone. Not a single soul.
“What?” he says again dazedly and Pandora raises her eyebrow, giving him The Look.
“You keep fidgeting with your ring finger,” she points out, “as if you are used to something there. And you’re awfully quiet. And you that dopey smile on your face.”
Regulus flushes. Of course. Pandora is freakishly observant, noticing small details that others might miss. He loves that about her.
“Pretty well, I should say so. He’s only woken up screeching thrice." Regulus grins, remembering when James had pulled in a dance. It had ended in a fancy Black heirloom shattered to bits and both of them doing things at an ungodly hour.
Pandora throws her head back, laughing.
“Speaking of my fiancé.” The word feels foreign on his tongue but he loves the sound of it. Fiancé. Soon to be husband. His. “Would you be my Best Woman, Pan?”
She softens, her hand reaching out to grip his. “Is that even a question, love?”
“But low-key. Sirius would drive himself crazy that you are my Best Person, not him.”
“And speaking of Sirius.” Pandora uses his own words on him, her eyes filled with concern. “Have you told him?”
Regulus gulps. Logically, he knows he should tell Sirius first. He should have told him way before. The day itself, in fact. But he is scared.
Pandora takes that as enough of an answer and sighs. “He is your brother. He loves you.”
Of that he has no doubt. The past is something they have both put behind. They are here now. But he also has no doubt that Sirius loves James just as much. That he is going to be livid if they tell him his brother and his best friend, who was akin to a brother, are getting married.
“He yelled ‘you traitors’ and did not speak to us for a whole week, the last time we did this." Regulus returns her look with an even intense one. “And it was over adopting a harmless kitten.”
Exactly what Sirius wailed was ‘Now it’s a cat, next it’s a fucking baby.’ One of the very famed Black dramatics that no one could calm down. Imagine how he was going react to them getting married.
“Don’t be silly, Reg. Tell him. He deserves to know.”
Leave it to Pandora to be so sensible, that lovely bastard.
***
“We don’t have to tell them today if you don’t want to, jaan,” James whispers into Regulus’s hair that smell of his own lemon shampoo. Regulus has been quiet the whole ride, fidgeting with his ring. He looks up and smiles slightly, squeezing James's hand.
“When we get a moment. I promise, Jamie.”
Just then Remus opens the door, the sound of loud music bleeding in the lobby. “You guys are here! Finally!”
James laughs as he notices Remus is already tipsy. Definitely Lily’s work. He kisses Regulus's cheek before he is whisked to the corner where the girls are having a heated debate.
Peter sends him a questioning look when he notices the diamond ring on his finger and James shrugs.
“It’s a gift.”
He knows that answer itself won’t stop Peter from wondering but that puts him off his trail for now. He goes back to nodding at everything Emmeline says, not having a clue what it’s about. James is so happy that he’s finally happy.
He turns his gaze to Remus who is having an animated conversation with Lily while making himself at home on Sirius’s lap. Marlene and Alice are up to their usual shenanigans and Frank is braiding Dorcas’s hair who is busy making heart eyes at her girlfriend.
He tunes out most of the chatter, nodding and smiling when he's prompted to. He doesn't know how much time passes, but he loves spending time with his friends. Just being.
That’s when he notices a very drunk Regulus stumble out of the kitchen, holding up a bright red plastic cup. The liquid sloshes and spills down the side as he bumps into the sofa. Then he gets up, unsteady on his feet and trips across the rug. James is caught between a wince and a laugh and rushes to help him up to his feet.
“Stop laughing at me, you bastard,” Regulus slurs, leaning on James as he wraps one arm around his waist.
“Ah, I think that is enough drinking for today, isn’t it?” James snorts, taking the half-empty cup from his hands and placing it on the coffee table.
“You’re such a terrible fiancé,” Regulus complains, flopping on the sofa.
“I’m the best part of your life, admit it.”
“You are lucky I tolerate you,” he mumbles and James laughs. Regulus curls up under him and immediately starts snoring. His face looks so vulnerable at the moment, a splash of freckles on his pale white nose. His perfectly styled waves fall over his eyes. His long lashes brush against his cheeks and his lips are slightly parted in an 'o'. He looks so cute.
It takes him a while to register that the entire room is silent except for Regulus's gentle snores.
Oh.
Then, all hell breaks loose.
“I never thought you’d be first ones to get married.” Mary grins, giving him a thumbs up.
“I am so happy for you two!” Lily squeals, her eyes lightening up to match her fiery hair.
Alice is cracking up. Apparently, that drunken display was the most entertaining way to tell them. “All that angst was worth this. When did this happen?”
"When we burnt our kitchen,” he says sheepishly.
"Now that's a story I'd like to hear."
He looks over to see Marlene blow him a kiss and he pretends to catch it. Peter is the first one of the boys to react.
“AHA! I knew there was something you weren’t telling us. You’re getting married. Holy shit.”
“I know. I can’t believe it." A smile spreads across his face.
He looks at Remus and Sirius, waiting for their reaction. The feeling of Regulus's warm skin under his own soothes him. He's not alone. He absently toys with his hair, playing with his curls.
“Say something?” His voice is a rasp. He means to be confident. These are his best friends, goddammit.
Remus’s face breaks out into a smile and he elbows Sirius. Sirius is staring at them both slack jawed, his gaze rapidly moving from James to Regulus. James nervously smiles and kisses Regulus’s forehead.
“Shut your mouth, Sirius, before the flies get in.” Mary pelts a piece of popcorn at his head.
It is a moment of peace before Sirius erupts.
“OH MY GOD. JAMES, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?”
There it was.
“You didn’t even ask for my blessing? You’re marrying my baby brother? And you didn’t bother to tell me? When did this happen? How? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“This isn’t the Middle Ages, Pads.” James clears his throat, “Regulus doesn’t need anyone’s permission.”
“Oh, don’t be smart, Prongs, you’re on thin fucking ice here,” Sirius gives him a cold look, “How long have you been engaged?”
James audibly gulps. “Two weeks.”
“Two weeks?”
Remus has to physically restrain him before he launches at them both.
“For two weeks, I was clueless I was speaking to my brother-in-law. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Alice rolls her eyes. “Because you would do exactly this, arsehole.”
“When’s the date? Where? How? Oh my god, it has to be perfect,” Sirius mutters, ignoring everyone. Throwing his hands up, he continues his rant and James cracks a crooked grin.
“You better ask him tomorrow.” James tucks an unkempt wave behind Regulus's ears and he mumbles something incoherent, clutching James’s arm tighter. Fuck, James is so weak for him.
“Yeah, and I better get some fucking answers.”
***
Regulus can see the future.
Bits and pieces, of course. He knows to expect things when they’re least likely. What he doesn’t expect though, is to wake up to a very determined Sirius Black towering over him as a dull, pounding headache rages at the back of his skull and the distinct smell of alcohol wafts from his clothes.
“What the fuck,” he yelps and scrambles back to the edge of the sofa.
“You’re getting married to my Prongs?”
“Fuck.” His brain is running a hundred miles per hour and so is his heart. His brother knows. Fuck. “Who told you that?” His voice comes out panicked and he curses himself. Intimidating. He wants to sound confident but fuck him if his voice decides to give up on him.
At that, Sirius cracks a smile. “You, you dolt. You were so plastered last night.”
What?
Regulus dimly remembers a lot of free-flowing alcohol, Alice pouring him a drink and handing it over with a wink. He remembers a pretty gory game of snap that ends in Emmeline's nose all bloody and Peter threatening him with disembowelment. He remembers stealing a bottle of wine from his brother’s fridge and slipping it in a red disposable cup. He remembers knocking into the sofa (his toe still hurts, thanks for all the concern). He remembers James coaxing him into his arms and the cup from his hands. He remembers calling him his fiancé and –
Shit.
“Shit. Sirius, I meant to tell you but uh-.” Regulus licked his lips, his mouth suddenly very dry.
“That doesn’t even matter now. There are more pressing things. We have a wedding to plan,” Sirius waves him aside, dumping the book he had been holding under his arm on the table with a thud. “This has everything we need to know about weddings.”
Regulus warily eyes the gigantic piece of literature on – Queer Weddings? – and dreads what is coming next.
“When are you thinking?”
“Uh – “
“Incompetent fools,” he mutters, flipping through the pages of the book, “Summer weddings become a hideous affair. October? Hm, I’m not sure. December is way too cold.”
“We,” Regulus loudly coughs, “were thinking of November.”
Sirius fixes him a look. Then, “It’s my birthday. Do not steal my spotlight.”
Regulus rolls his eyes but feels himself smiling. Before he can say anything though, Sirius begins again.
“Oh. Oh. How can I be the Best Man of both the grooms?”
“Pandora will be more than happy to do it.”
“Are you serious right now?”
Regulus opens his mouth but Sirius groans loudly. “Do not. I will strangle you if you make that joke again. And I will not allow anyone else to take my place. You are my brother.”
“Don’t worry,” Regulus grumbles, “There’s a few months to it.”
“Don’t worry?! Are you out of your minds?” Sirius gets up, running to the room and yelling at Remus. “Are you hearing this load of shit, Moony? ARE YOU?”
Regulus hears Remus chide him, telling him to quiet down the noise. He startles when James sits beside him, two mugs of scalding hot chai in his hands.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” Regulus sips, the taste of cardamom and pepper making everything sharper. Masala chai. Just the way he likes it.
“Well, I hope so. If we’re meant to be married,” James smirks, placing his mug on the corner of the table, and spreads open the Daily Prophet.
Regulus peers over James’s shoulder, curse his tiny body, and reads aloud the heading.
Ex-Black Heir Engaged To Quidditch Star Potter?
And below that very catchy front page, is a picture of them both from a few days ago. Regulus has his hand raised to shield his face from the glare of the camera, and the other one is laced with James's. Regulus is so glad Sirius got to know this through them even if it was a drunken secret. God knows how he would have reacted if he got to know through the gossipy newspapers.
“You look really cute in this,” James says, bumping his shoulder against his.
“Of course, I do,” Regulus says, feigning haughtiness.
James is about to say something when they hear the sounds of Sirius shrieking in panic, going on about the wedding, the clothes, the food, the venue, it's only in three months Moony.
Regulus sighs and says, “He’s going to worry about our wedding more than we do.”
“He’s just excited, Reggie,” James says, laughing, “Besides, it's great. He’ll do all the work for us. Save us wedding planners and all.”
“That’s quite Slytherin, Mr. Potter,” Regulus teases, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“I have a lot of things in me. The charm I dazzled you with, for instance.”
“Dream on.”
“I used my wiles to beguile you into my bed, Mr. Black.”
“No. I fell in love with you the moment you tripped and accidentally trashed the Great Hall.”
“But I am your idiot, aren’t I?”
Regulus’s lips twitch in a smile and he takes his hand and kisses his fingers. “Yes, you absolute moron.”
In the background, Sirius gags loudly. “So fucking insufferably in love, those two.”
***
“Holy fuck, my brother’s getting married.”
Remus sighs, not looking up from the book he’s currently reading. “Yes, Sirius, this is the tenth time you’re saying it.”
“Married, Moony. Wed. Matrimony. Till death do them apart. Oh, fuck,” Sirius continues, ignoring Remus.
“It was implied when they got engaged.”
“Married,” he says, writing it on the chalkboard and aggressively circling it. Sirius has taken it upon himself to make sure the wedding is perfectly planned.
Hence, the giant board in the middle of their living room and many How Tos strewn across the coffee table.
“They still haven’t picked a venue. How can they be so chill about this? And don’t get me started on the flowers. And the cake tasting. They’re so indecisive, Moons. And they’ve just gotten their tuxedo fittings done. Do they know it is going to take ages for it to come?”
Sirius prattles off some more and Remus hums in agreement at timed intervals. The novel he’s reading just got interesting. Something about a morally corrupt man whose portrait bears the weight of his sins. He’s surprised he hasn’t come across it before.
“…Remus?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he says absently, flipping the pages of his novel.
“I just asked you if I could get a flying fucking bike. Moony, you’re not even pretending to pay attention!” Sirius whines. “Who was ranting to these past thirty minutes?”
Remus exhales and puts his book on the edge of the table. Scooting a little, he gestures for Sirius to sit down.
“I’m sure they have it all sorted.”
“But – “
“No buts. C'mere.”
Sirius grudgingly sits beside him, letting him envelope him in a hug. The warm jumper and the smell of fresh flowers floods his senses. They sit in silence for a while, the only noise being the crackling of the fireplace.
“I never thought he’d live, much less get married,” Sirius says, hating how his voices cracks. Are those tears? Gross. “I am so, so happy for them. It needs to be perfect.”
“You being there for them is just as perfect, you know that right?” Remus runs his fingers through his long hair.
“But what if it isn’t enough?” He whispers, his voice wavering. “I lost all those years with Reggie.”
“And you have decades ahead of you now.”
Sirius takes a deep breath and then pouts, “But, like, Prongs? I can’t believe they’re getting married before everyone.”
Remus laughs, kissing his temple. “Do you want to get married?”
“Someday,” Sirius breathes. “Soon.”
“Me too.”
***
“He’s a tyrant, I tell you,” Mary says under her breath to Lily as Sirius, standing on the ladder, yells at everyone through a speaker to work faster.
“Do you have anything to say, Mary? If not, get back to work. Those banners won’t hang themselves.” He glares at her.
“I said,” she clears her throat and says loudly, loud enough for everyone working at the venue to hear. “You’re a fucking tyrant.”
“You’d be too, if your brother and your best friend were getting married in less than a week.”
“Oh, calm your tits, Sirius,” Lily interrupts before an argument breaks out, rolling her eyes. “The ones actually getting married don’t care if the swatches match the cake.”
“They both know shit about weddings. They would elope if it were up to them. Gods, can you imagine that.”
Turning to Remus, who is standing behind him, reading a book. “You. Remus. Moony. My darling. Mon amour. You are in charge of the Time Turner, so I can do both Best Man duties – “
“Woah, woah.” James chirps just in time. “Who said anything about Time Turners?”
Sirius whirls on his feet. “What are you doing here? You have to pick out the cake toppings.”
“We were going to tell mom and dad,” James says quietly, tilting his head to Regulus who was kneeling, talking with an elf.
Sirius immediately softens, shooting him a smile. “We can do this later. Say hi to them from me?”
“Of course,” he smiles and then grabs Regulus’s hand.
“Ready?” he asks and squeezes James’s hand.
“Always,” he says before they Apparate. James still isn’t used to the swooping feeling in his gut and the disorientation that comes with it. He stumbles unsteadily on his feet and reaches out for Regulus.
They’re in a field now. Large sprawling field, filled with wildflowers and soft white sand beach, brimming with gorgeous colors. The waves gently lap at their feet as they tread over it, spreading out a rug under the old mango tree.
“Hi, mum,” James says softly, gliding his fingers over the rough trunk of the tree. “Hi, dad.”
He finds his voice faltering and Regulus nudges him with his feet, giving him a small smile. Gripping his hand even tighter, James takes a deep breath and starts again.
“Mum, dad, this is Regulus. Remember him? Sirius’s little brother?” He finds his voice coming out louder and more confident this time. “We’re getting married now. Married. I wish you could see this.”
Regulus sniffles beside him and James leans into him. “You would have loved Regulus. He’s so amazing. He makes the best kheer, ma. They taste just like yours. Partly, why I’m marrying him.” Regulus scoffs but it’s caught between a sob.
“All the elves love him. And he’s the best healer St. Mungo’s has had in a century. Oh, and his paintings just went on display in a muggle museum. They’re breathtaking,” he says, his heart growing wider every minute.
“I love him so much, mum. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him. He is my person. You would have loved him.”
He repeats it again, like a prayer which fits because right now, he’s nothing more than a fanatic, bleeding at his altar.
He kisses Regulus's knuckles.
They’re here now. They’re home.
James can’t stop smiling. The sea breeze musses up his hair and he loves how the salt lingers on his tongue. The mango-tree whistles above them, its long branches doubling over to shade them. The flowers bend as the wind carries them forward and James plucks one, a delicate blue one, and threads it in Regulus’s hair.
Home.
***
Today’s the day.
For someone who is getting married to the love of his life, James is very hungover. He barely remembers what happened the night before. He recalls hysterical laughter whenever someone says stag night (ha ha) and a wild midnight prank that definitely is one of Sirius’s ideas.
“Finally awake?” Remus and Peter are hunching over him, shaking his shoulder.
“Headache,” he groans, sitting up. He’s on the couch in Sirius’s living room. He definitely does not remember passing out there. There’s his childhood blanket on him. What did they do last night? He won’t put it past Sirius to have drunkenly planned to blow up their wedding venue.
Peter slips him an aspirin and tells him to drink up. Always ready for everything. He quickly gulps it down. The headache dulls and he tentatively stands.
“WAKE UP, JAMES. I will not let you leave my baby brother at the altar just because you're drunk out of your wits.”
“Fucking hell, Padfoot.” Peter uses his hands to shield James’s poor ears that are getting slaughtered by the noise. “Calm it down a notch.”
“Five. Hours. He’s getting married in five hours. Do not tell me to calm down.”
James looks pleadingly at Remus, who looks just as resigned as him. When Sirius Black gets something in his head, there is no going back.
He drags himself to the bathroom and splashes some water on his face. Clutching the edges of the sink tighter, he looks up in the mirror.
Fuck. He is going to be Regulus’s husband.
He smiles. He smiles so fucking much that it hurts, but he can’t help it.
Everything feels so right.
***
James doesn’t know what he walked into.
To be fair, did not know what to expect. The venue is the place him and Regulus go stargazing all the time. The spot where they had their first real date. There is a large white tent set up, shuddering slightly as the cold gust hits it.
And it is in total chaos.
Sirius and Mary are loudly bickering over the color of the flowers. A few ill-aimed spells hit the tables and James cringes as he dodges them. The elves are scurrying in panic, trying to keep everything under control. From the corner of his eye, he sees Marlene and Dorcas precariously juggle the giant cake and Lily is at the bar, slipping in a few drinks before anyone notices. Remus is single-handedly arranging, and re-arranging the chairs but now they’re flying everywhere. Alice is yelling at Remus to control them when one of them flies straight towards her. Frank just looks exhausted.
Throughout all of this, James tries to spot Regulus. He murmurs a quick apology to an elf who glares at him for bumping into her and spilling contents of the jug she’s carrying.
“Hi, Pan,” he calls out to Pandora who is dressed in fabulous purple. She crosses her arms, her jade bangles jingling when she hears James. “Did you see Reg?”
“Oh,” she replies, her brow furrowing, “I thought he was with you. I haven’t seen him all day.”
“Thanks. The anarkali looks so pretty, by the way. Did my cousin send it?”
"Yep," she says, her smile beaming, "Tell her I loved it!"
"For sure." He gives her a weak grin and she goes back to running through the guest list.
Shit. What if Regulus is having second thoughts? What if he’s finally realized he can do way better than James? What if Regulus is leaving him?
Before his thoughts can spiral into a panic, another one hits him.
The pond.
Of course.
The pond is a ten-minute walk from there, a secluded cove in the middle of the wild with a clear view of the night sky. He remembers the hushed whispers and the stolen kisses from the night they spent there, ages ago. It used to be their place.
James breathes a sigh of relief when he finds Regulus sitting by the water, his legs up to his chest and his fingers tracing lines in the mud.
“Hey,” James says softly. “Can I sit here?”
Regulus looks up, his eyes cloudy. A beat. Then he nods slightly, he gaze returning to the gentle ripples in the water.
They sit in this comfortable silence for a long time and Regulus scoots over, resting his head on his shoulder. His breath grazes his skin and James strokes his hair.
“I can’t believe it is happening,” Regulus whispers, now drawing circles on James’s wrist.
“Now you’re stuck with me for life,” James jokes, trying to lighten the mood. But Regulus grips his wrist tighter and looks him straight in the eye.
“I love you,” he whispers over and over again. “I love you.”
James leans in to press a kiss to his forehead and holds him, his body fitting in his arms perfectly. It feels like forever but it is over too soon.
“Now about that life insurance,” Regulus teases, stealing another kiss.
“You knew what you were getting into when you said yes. It will be hair raising.”
“And you will burn down our home.”
“And you will feed me burnt pancakes as revenge.”
“And you will kiss me at horribly wrong times.”
“I’m tempted to, now,” James breathes, closing the distance between them.
Then a screech that sounds an awful lot like Sirius interrupts them. They jump almost four-feet apart.
“You cannot see each other BEFORE you get married,” Sirius yells frantically, “It’s bad luck. Shoo, Prongs.”
“Jeez, Pads. You’re breaking a moment here,” James grumbles and places a quick kiss on Regulus’s temple as he gets up.
“Is this going to happen all the time now?” Regulus shakes with silent laughter as James and his brother have a go at it.
“Yes. You two need to be chaperoned. Bloody teenagers,” Sirius says dryly. “Now fuck off, Prongs.”
“Ouch, my feelings,” James mocks and then with a crack, he is gone.
Without James, the air feels heavier, more awkward.
Sirius sobers up, his smile slipping. He licks his lips before saying, “You know I am so proud of you, right? I am so happy for you.”
Regulus knows it is true. He knows Sirius loves him. He knows he cares. He might not show it but all of this, this was his way of saying he will never stop being an overbearing brother to him, to make up for their lost time.
“I know, Sirius."
The Black brothers never hug. It took Regulus a while to get used to the constant displays of affections, the kisses and the hugs and the touches. But now he melts into it.
“Ahem. Sorry to interrupt whatever rare moments of brotherly affection you two are having but the cake fucking blew up. It’s everywhere,” Marlene says, wildly gesturing to her hair which now resembles a bird’s nest more than anything, pieces of the vanilla cake stuck in it. There's frosting on her eyelashes and her ears.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I cannot leave you all alone for a minute without chaos erupting.” Sirius throws his hands up in frustration and Regulus shakes his head, unable to keep his laughter in.
What a start to such a glorious day.
***
It feels like he’s walking on a cloud.
Like a dream he never wants to wake up from.
His young niece drops the petals on the aisle and looks quite proud of the work she’s done when she takes her place beside Andromeda. Pandora straightens his flower crown and nudges him ahead where Sirius stands in his fancy new tux, his arm held out.
Everyone’s eyes are on him but he doesn’t care. He only cares about James, who is fidgeting with his sleeves, a wide grin playing on his lips.
His brother walks him down the aisle and at the end of it, Sirius whispers in his ear. “You’ve got this, Reggie.”
Regulus strides ahead and stands beside James, taking his hands in his own and interlacing their fingers. A huge smile spreads on his face.
“These two dolts are getting married today and I’ve never seen a couple more hopelessly in love than them.” Lily deems that as an enough introduction. “They are my lovely, clueless, and at times very dumb children and they deserve every bit of happiness.”
James holds his hand tighter as he begins.
“I love you and I will always, always be there for you.”
Regulus takes a deep breath to steady his voice. “Every moment spent with you is my happiest, Jamie.”
“I never thought this would happen but it is and I will never let you go, jaan.”
“You’re an idiot but I love you so fucking much, it hurts,” he says, tearing up a little.
At the end of it, Lily shouts, “You may kiss the groom.”
James twirls and then dips him with a flourish, kissing him as raucous cheers go up in the air and he's sure Sirius is shielding his eyes. But he couldn't care less.
To him, it's just them.
Forever, in this moment.
***
The party is wild.
The colors are brighter and there’s loud music going off in the background. Regulus has never loved life more.
James still hasn’t dropped his hand or his smile, greeting all the guests excitedly. The first person who comes over is Sirius who pulls them both in a bone-crushing hug that only breaks apart when Regulus gasps, nursing his ribs.
“We’re officially brothers now, Prongs.” Sirius is grinning.
“Hello there, brother.” James holds out his hand and Sirius shakes it. What a bunch of idiots.
“Don't steal my husband,” Regulus says wryly.
Sirius grins and then leaves, his earrings swishing as he pulls a hesitant Remus to the dance floor.
“I would offer to dance with you but I don’t want to start our married life by subjecting you to my horrific dancing skills,” James teases.
“Hm, I find it rather endearing,” Regulus says. “It’s like a fish learning salsa.”
“Joke at my expense all you want, husband. I will make your life hell.”
“I look forward to it.” His lips quirk up.
Just then a bubbling bundle of energy rushes towards them, bouncing high on her feet.
“Oh my god, did you see how wonderfully I dropped those flowers?” Nymphadora jumps up and down. “Oh wait, does this make you my uncle, James?”
“Yes, Nymphadora.”
“Ew, it's just Dora,” she wrinkles her nose.
“We can’t help with the fancy Black names now, can we?” Regulus laughs and ruffles her hair as she ducks.
Before she starts to argue with him over the specifics of her name and how Nymphadora is just so horrendous, Uncle Reg, you wouldn’t understand, Andromeda interrupts.
“Look, there are the Weasley boys. Off you go, Dora. And don’t do anything illegal.”
“Always, mum!” She yells and then runs off as fast as she came.
“Ted won the coin toss today. Kids,” Andy sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
“I’d like one of those someday.” James bites his lips and looks at Regulus.
“Oh please. If they’re anything like you, it would be my death sentence,” Regulus rolls his eyes.
“You never know if they turn out like you, spending an hour in the bathroom coiffing their hair.” James shrugs. Eyeing the box Andromeda has in her hands, he squeezes Regulus's hand. “Anya didi is here. I haven’t seen her in ages. Catch you later, love!”
With that he leaves, walking up to the dark-skinned woman who looks like a splitting copy of James, except older and very distinguished. He remembers meeting James’s cousin the last time they visited Goa. She is a really skilled witch, he gathers. Works in the Indian Ministry or such. Her wife is beside her, chatting with Pandora and switching rapidly between English and Hindi.
“Here,” Andy says, breaking him out of his daze, pushing a small, velvet box in his hand. Regulus looks up questioningly but Andy urges him to open it.
Inside is a golden snitch with his initials scrawled on it.
Oh.
“You had this on you all the time,” she says, her voice going soft with nostalgia. “I found it when clearing out some stuff. Thought you might like it back.”
He closes his fists, the snitch feeling warm against his skin.
“Thank you, Andy.”
She takes his face in her hands and kisses his forehead. “You are so grown up, Reggie. I remember when you were all but a little kid.”
“Stop making me cry,” Regulus lets out a wet laugh, wiping away his tears.
“I fear the damage has already been done.” Andy slings one arm around his shoulder.
“I, uh, don’t mean to intrude on your family reunion.” Narcissa.
Sirius is standing beside her, glowering at her until she speaks. “I got something for you, Reg.”
By gods, Regulus hasn’t seen her properly ever since Lucius’s trial. She looks happier now, her cheeks rosier and there’s a bounce to her step. She took over the Black household when Regulus denounced his role as the heir. She’s been reconstructing everything now.
“Nonsense, sis. You are family too,” Andy says sternly. "Never forget that."
Narcissa’s face softens and she hands him a picture frame.
Behind the glass is a crumbling yellowed paper, colored to every inch. There are small stick figures drawn, all holding hands and in five different handwritings, it has everyone’s names written. He drags his thumb across the glass. Andy’s is a perfect cursive while Bellatrix’s is a messy scrawl. He recognizes Sirius’s loopy writing and Narcissa has hers in a bunch of alternating colors. His own is wonky, big font in red crayon.
“You kept it, Cissa,” he whispers and looks to his cousins and his brother. He remembers the day they made this. He was five, his parents were yelling and the walls were too thin. Then Andy had clapped her hands and spread out a giant sheet of paper, laying down her collection of crayons on the floor.
“Of course.” Narcissa smiles, echoing his words from that day. “Save it for me?”
“Oh, you soppy gits. You’re ruining my eyeliner.” Sirius sobs. “Bring it in.”
His complains go unheard as his cousins and his brother crush him in a hug and he yelps when Nymphadora launches upon them.
Its smothering. But it’s a good kind of suffocating.
“These fucking family hugs will be the end of my ribs.”
***
Regulus was a sight, really.
Sitting alone, swishing a glass of champagne between his fingers and idly staring at his fiancé. Not fiancé. Husband.
“You have your whole lifetime to make heart eyes at Potter, Potter,” someone says, and Regulus whips his head to see Lily pull up a chair beside him. Her hair’s a mess, falling in loose curls over her bright yellow dress and her lipstick is smudged across her cheek.
“We still haven’t decided on the surname.” Regulus can’t help the blush that spreads across his face. “Besides, I didn’t think you noticed me with all that you had going on with Pandora.”
“Oh please. Let’s talk about you two. Can’t stop gawking at each other. It's painful,” she jokes. “But I am not here to tease you. I wanted to tell you something.”
Regulus raises his eyebrow at the change of tone and waits for her to continue.
“The muggles. They have this thing called surrogacy,” she licks her lips. She seems nervous.
He frowns. He knows this. But before he can say anything, Lily shushes him.
“What I mean to say is, if you two want to have children.” She trails off.
“Lily, wow. Really?” He whispers when he registers what she means. “You would do that for us?”
“Of course. Anything for my idiots.” she smiles.
“Thank you,” he says, and he means every word of it. Lily offering to help them have a child. A fucking child, for god’s sake. A family. Him and James and their hypothetical, not-so-hypothetical children.
The idea of a mini-James running around their house, creating as much chaos as possible didn’t sound so bad, after all.
But right now, the real James was creating a ruckus, drunkenly grabbing the mic, making the music come to a screeching halt.
“Hello, hi- Geroff me, Moony." James breaks Remus's hold. "I am James Potter, the lovely groom, and that’s my even lovelier husband, right there." He slurs, winking at Regulus, but he’s so horrible at it, it looks like there’s something stuck in his eyes.
“I got married today. Wait, no, you already know that. What you don’t know though, is how I seduced the stoic Black heir. Now that’s a tale.”
Regulus debates stepping in but then again, he wants an entertaining wedding story to tell to his grandchildren. And he’s never the one to skip on drama.
“You see, all of this.” James gestures to his own body, up and down, smugly. “My amazing charms made Regulus Black go weak in his knees. Those are his words exactly. He says them in his sleep.”
Well, obviously, those weren’t his words. But something about James Potter did make him weak in the knees. Not that he was ever going to admit it.
“He’s all sappy, and romantic, guys. Sorry for exposing you, jaan,” James laughs at his own words, staggering on the podium. “You should see him in a lehenga. He’s goddamned beautiful and I will punch you if you say otherwise. Got that?” He yells to no one in particular.
“This one’s for you, mere jaaneman,” he hollers and starts singing, completely off-key, his own punk rock rendition of the classic Bollywood song.
Oh, gods no. It’s like bracing for a disaster but Regulus is loving every minute of it.
“Chura liya hain tumne jo dil ko,” he begins, dramatically pointing his finger at Regulus, “Nazar nahin churana sanam.”
This heart that you’ve stolen. That’s the only thing Regulus salvages from this albeit romantic wreck. Sirius is cackling in the background, riffing his guitar.
“Badal ke meri zindagaani. Kahin na badal jaana sanaaaaaam," James screeches, "I love you, darling. Return my heart, you chor!”
“I will if you get your dumb ass down here so I can kiss you,” Regulus yells back and James looks positively giddy, stumbling down the podium.
Sirius seems to be enjoying this little display even more than Regulus, clutching his stomach as he is racked with laughter. Regulus hears everyone cheering loudly as James stumbles right into his arms.
“You’re so extra.” Regulus grins, wrapping his arms around his neck.
“Mhm, you love it,” James says between kisses.
“Get a fucking room, you too.”
“Deal with it,” James shouts, throwing his hands up and flashing his diamond ring that gleams in the floating chandelier’s lights, “We’re married now!”
***
Regulus is used to waking up next to James.
James, his boyfriend.
Not James, his husband.
He in his arms, snoring quite noisily, his glasses askew and smudged eyeliner on his cheeks. His legs drape over his torso and his bright red lips are open in an adorable pout. His feet stick out from the sheet, which suffered a very violent tug of war last night.
Yeah, he can get used to this.