Chapter Text
“Pretend you’re talking to me,” Regulus said, and James was startled out of his thoughts to find fingers tugging insistently at his wrist. He looked up at Regulus, and then down at his hand, and then up again.
“Beg your pardon?”
“Pretend you’re talking to me,” Regulus hissed, letting go of James’ arm.
If James wasn’t a little drunk, he might have been a bit intimidated by the intensity in his expression– but because he was a little drunk, he found it really rather endearing. He smiled a bit lopsidedly.
“Counterproposal,” James drawled, waving his cup in one hand. “I could just actually talk to you.”
“Rejected,” Regulus muttered. He leaned against the wall to his right, casting a glance over his shoulder.
“Avoiding someone?” James asked. Regulus scowled at him.
“None of your business.”
James laughed and took a sip of his drink– whoever had come up with the incredible combination of firewhiskey and butterbeer deserved incredible compensation. “Just trying to make conversation.”
“Well, don’t,” Regulus replied coldly.
“Right,” James scoffed. He looked around the room, trying to figure out exactly who it was Regulus was obviously evading, but it was truly packed. Ravenclaws always knew how to throw a good party.
James had a theory it was because they were overcompensating for how nerdy they were, a contrarian stance to the reputation– like, we’re not pretentious, see? Watch this. And then they’d throw a rave so out of control it had the ghosts talking about it the next day. Someone usually wound up levitated up to hang from the skylight. James had woken up on the stairs once or twice.
So now, as expected, the music was loud and then students were laughing and trays of drinks were enchanted to make their rounds to anyone who seemed like they weren’t having enough fun, which explained why there was one hovering anxiously behind Regulus at the moment. Regulus batted it away, annoyed.
He’d cornered James at a rather good time, actually– not that there was a bad time for Regulus to corner James… he wished he’d do it more often, frankly– because James was taking a brief break from the chaos of it all to tuck himself away and people watch, which was sometimes just as interesting as being in the heart of it. It was only from dimly lit corners that you could learn who was snogging who, or who was aiming to snog who, or who was avoiding who, the last of which was a category Regulus fit into.
“So, uh…” James cleared his throat, because Regulus was still looking insistently over his shoulder. When James spoke, he snapped his attention back to him, and James felt his eyes go a little wide. “You just intend to stand here in complete silence?”
“Ideally,” Regulus said.
“Doesn’t serve the purpose very well,” James pointed out. Regulus raised his eyebrows. “Pretending to talk? If I keep my mouth shut, it doesn’t really work, you know.”
“Well, lucky for me, you’re incapable of keeping your mouth shut,” Regulus rolled his eyes.
“Yes, lucky you,” James mused, smirking. Lucky me, he thought as well. Regulus to James was a bit like a panther at a zoo, locked behind glass. As much as he’d love to, he couldn’t get close, but he could certainly settle for watching from afar. And in any case, teeth and claws weren’t scarier than the one deterrent that Regulus employed religiously; his abject hatred for James Potter. Alas. A view through the glass would have to do.
“Stop making that face,” Regulus snapped. James laughed, because he wasn’t making a face.
“This is just how I look, Reg,” he pointed out.
“You’re smiling.”
“It’s a party. I’m allowed to smile at a party. Not everyone has the makings of a wet blanket.”
“Piss off,” Regulus groaned.
“Thought you wanted me to talk to you?” James countered.
“No,” Regulus corrected, “I wanted you to pretend to talk to me. See the difference?”
“Well if you wanted someone to stand here and look pretty, maybe you should have… oh, no, actually, I can do that, too, come to think of it,” James flashed him a smile, and Regulus’ scowl only got darker. It was lovely. “It’s more fun to talk, though, don’t you think?”
“No.”
“Right, well cheers, then,” James raised his cup and started to walk away– or rather, he pretended to start to walk away, because he was maybe about seventy percent sure that Regulus was going to stop him anyway. And he did. He sidestepped, blocking James’ path away, and James raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting expectantly. He had a knack for getting what he wanted, and Regulus was (probably to his great despair) easy to read.
“Jay is here,” Regulus muttered, an admission that clearly caused him a great deal of pain to say out loud. Ah, James thought. The ex. That made sense (and made him seethe a little), but it seemed very mundane for Regulus to be anxious over his ex boyfriend being at a party. James raised an eyebrow, settling back against his side of the corner.
“Well… he is a Ravenclaw, isn’t he?”
“I’m aware he’s a Ravenclaw. I just wish he wasn’t here.”
“Just… just to point out the flaw in your logic–”
“Don’t.”
“Yep,” James nodded, coughing. “You two didn’t end well, then, I take it?” Regulus glared at him, which answered his question quite nicely.
“Do you honestly think I want to talk about this?”
“You’re the one who came to me,” James pointed out, and then frowned. “Why did you come to me, exactly? I know I’ve seen your bunch around. How come you’re not with them?”
“I’ve…” Regulus furrowed his brow and looked off to the side, and James saw his ears turn a little pink. And, well, that was curious, wasn’t it? “I need a favor.”
James’ eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”
“Fuck off, don’t make that face.”
“Again, Reggie– this is just my face.”
“Well, it’s terrible, and you’re an idiot.” Regulus said matter-of-factly, and James laughed. He could never really take any of Regulus’ insults to heart, because frankly insults were the only reason Regulus ever talked to him, so he figured he had to savor them.
“Noted. Go on, what’s the favor?”
“He won’t leave me alone,” Regulus dodged his question deftly.
“Who? Jay?”
“Who else?” Regulus snapped, and then composed himself a little. “He’s being a prat, and he keeps on cornering me and trying to talk–”
“Much like you’re doing right now–”
“He’s talking about getting together–” Regulus went on, and James had to stop himself from saying much like I wish you were doing right now, as well. Luckily he wasn’t quite tipsy enough to lose his filter entirely. “And you're a pretty good deterrent.”
James blinked. “Was that an insult or a compliment?”
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Does it matter? You’re going to let it go straight to your head either way.”
“Fair point,” James shrugged. “So you really do just want me to stand here and look pretty, eh?”
“No,” Regulus said, and he crossed his arms, pushing himself off of the wall behind him to face James head on. James swallowed hard, masking the little leap his heart did by taking another sip of his drink. “I want you to kiss me.”
James choked, and he felt firewhiskey burn in his nose. He coughed, wincing, waving a hand to summon one of the drink trays to set his cup down on so he didn’t spill it any further. Through watering eyes, he saw Regulus still frowning at him, an eyebrow half raised in a sort of are you finished yet expression, to which James held up a finger as he caught his breath.
“Sorry,” he wheezed. “Must have misheard that.”
“I want you to kiss me,” Regulus repeated in no uncertain terms, and oh, fuck, did he have to repeat it? James felt a blush creeping up his neck, and he hoped dearly that Regulus would chalk it up to his drunkenness.
“I don’t think I’m following,” James managed. Regulus rolled his eyes as though this was the most obvious thing in the world, and he couldn’t possibly understand how James wasn’t on the same page, which– what page was that exactly? He was having a bit of trouble remembering any part of the conversation that came before the words kiss me.
“He’ll leave me alone if you kiss me,” Regulus spelled it out for him, and James really wanted to shake him by the shoulders and shout for fuck’s sake, stop saying ‘kiss me’ because his brain short circuited every time he did.
“This feels convoluted.”
“Convoluted? How? It’s a one step plan,” Regulus pointed out. “Surely you can handle that.”
“Well, according to someone, I’m an idiot, so…”
“Like that’s ever stopped you from making bad decisions.”
“So you agree this is a bad decision, then,” James noted. Because it was. It really, really was. The worst decision. The worst person, and the worst choice, and why did Regulus have to come over to him ? James was quite excited he had, at first, but now he had a feeling this night was going to get complicated.
“You’re insufferable.”
“I try.”
“Clearly. Look, don’t make it a thing. I’m asking for help. I already don’t want to be here,” Regulus muttered quietly, and he looked incredibly embarrassed, so much so that it threw James for a loop, because this was not how he expected this conversation to go. Or this night. Christ.
“Wh– well– why–” James stammered, attempting to get his bearings, because if he didn’t, and he let Regulus tell him ‘kiss me’ one more time, his heart would probably give out. “Why don’t you get Sirius to help?”
Regulus narrowed his eyes. “Because Sirius would just knock his teeth out,” he said as though it were obvious.
“Yes,” James hissed, “and he’ll knock my teeth out if I kiss his little brother.”
“You can take a hit, Potter, I’ve seen you on the quidditch pitch,” Regulus waved him off, and James groaned, leaning away from him.
“Oh, yeah, great, so I’m the sacrifice,” he sighed.
“Precisely,” Regulus stepped right into his space, and James felt his chest go a little hot– and where was Sirius, anyway? Because James was pretty sure that if the older of the Blacks even glanced this way, with Regulus crowding himself against James in some dimly lit corner of the Ravenclaw common room at some stupid party, he’d find himself spending more time in the hospital wing than Remus did after a moon. Christ.
“I feel like there’s a better solution here,” James muttered, very intentionally averting his gaze, because Regulus’ cheeks were just slightly pink and his neck just slightly flushed and his lips were very, very close. The only comfort James took in this was that his scowl had not wavered for a moment, but even that wasn’t very much of a comfort, because when Regulus scowled in this specific way, the corners of his eyes got a little wrinkled and his mouth went a little lopsided and– well– honestly, it was all rather endearing. Obviously not the intent, of course, but the effect nonetheless.
“Tell me something you think I haven’t tried, and I’ll happily prove myself wrong,” Regulus crossed his arms stiffly over his chest. “I can promise you, there’s nowhere else I’d rather not be.”
“Ouch, first of all,” James mumbled. Regulus rolled his eyes. “And second, you're very good at telling people to piss off, Regulus. Usual charm not working?"
"Shut up," Regulus huffed. "I've told him to piss off a hundred times and he won't let up. This is exactly why we–" Regulus blew out a frustrated breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his shoulder against the wall beside him. "This isn't a difficult request, James."
"Well hold on, that's not for you to decide," James raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, come on," Regulus groaned. "You're not seeing anyone, right? I’ve seen you making your rounds."
“Making my–” James spluttered, suddenly feeling defensive, and a little peeved. “Regulus, I’m not making my rounds, I’m making genuine connections with very lovely people.”
“Same thing.”
“It is not! You’re being dehumanizing. Just because I’m exploring my options doesn’t mean I’m treating people like objects–”
“Fine, fine, you’re right,” Regulus cut him off.
"And besides, that’s not the point," James shook his head.
"What's the point, then?"
"You hate me," James pointed out, and the words stung a great deal more to say out loud than James thought they would. Even against the warmth that the firewhiskey had created in his chest, he felt a little cold.
"Exactly," Regulus shrugged, and oh, that stung even more.
“Pardon me if I don’t see how that’s a good thing.”
“Because it won’t matter,” Regulus sighed. And wow, James thought, this is just the worst way this conversation could have gone, isn’t it? He deflated a little.
“Thanks for that,” James muttered. “You should go ask one of your Slytherin friends. Barty won’t snog you? Evan? Dorcas?”
“Dorcas isn’t my type,” Regulus pointed out, “and I’m not hers either. I think she’s already rather busy at the moment, anyways.” He nodded his head toward one of the couches and James found that he was right; Dorcas and Marlene were certainly busy. “And it’s not the same if it's Evan or Barty.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because they’re not James Potter,” Regulus said. James raised his eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “Christ, James, come off it. Jay isn’t gonna leave me alone if it’s Evan or Barty because he doesn’t give a shit about them.”
“And he gives a shit about me?”
“Everyone gives a shit about you,” Regulus rolled his eyes. James blinked at him. “Don’t let that go straight to your ego.”
“Too late, love,” James grinned.
“Fuck off. Don’t call me that. I’m saying that if James Potter snogs someone at a party, they’re off limits.”
“Is that my reputation?” James asked, a little startled.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Hey!” James crossed his arms. “Harsh words from someone trying to convince me to kiss him.”
“You couldn’t just do me a favor one time?” Regulus groaned.
“One time? I was under the impression you were living in my house– not that I’m requiring any sort of payment for that, by the way– and it’s my books you steal, and oh, my money you borrowed for Zonko’s that one time–”
“That was in October!”
“Well, I remember it quite distinctly,” James huffed. He remembered it quite distinctly, in fact, because Regulus was wearing one of Sirius’ Slipknot t-shirts and it hung off of him just slightly so James could see the ridge of his collarbones, and that had been enough to send him into a dazed sort of stupor so strong he didn’t even blink at giving Regulus two galleons to spend on whatever he liked.
“Fine. You’re already used to doing me favors, so do me one more,” Regulus countered.
James leaned against the wall behind him, narrowing his eyes at Regulus. It was a little dim in the room, difficult to see, but when he looked hard enough, he saw a different sort of tension behind the usual scowl. He noticed the way Regulus kept darting his gaze over his shoulder, tracking Jay as he mingled in the room, and James finally spotted him. And when he watched, he also saw the way Jay had started casting his gaze toward the two of them as well.
Jay was a rather tall boy, a beater for Ravenclaw’s quidditch team, dark hair and dark eyes and an intensity about him that rivaled Regulus’. When James had seen them in the brief time they were together, (after he managed to look past the severe surge of jealousy he felt– and no, he wasn’t afraid to admit that, at least not in the comfort of his own head) they struck him as an odd pair. Like putting two weights on the same side of a scale.
But as Jay walked around now, he had a sort of hunter-ish quality about him, like a predator stalking prey, and James recognized it– it was the same possessiveness that Sirius held for Remus, and that Remus held for Sirius, and for them, it worked, because they were both so damn stuck to each other than nothing could pry between them. This? This didn’t work. This made Regulus nervous.
And James found himself rather angry about that, actually, now that he thought about it.
He hated that he was seeing the logic, here.
He also hated that Regulus clearly noticed the second James started to waver in his stance.
“Just snog me and get it over with,” Regulus urged. How romantic, James thought. This was not how I wanted this to go, James thought. Fuck, he smells good, James thought.
“This is going to cause problems,” James said.
“Name one.”
“Sirius is going to find out.”
Regulus was silent for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. “Alright, name one more,” he asked.
“The whole school is going to find out.”
“Good,” Regulus sighed. “Maybe then I’ll get left alone.” James felt his mood go a little sour, because that really wasn’t fair. Regulus was sitting here, asking him to do this, and what did James get out of it? A whole lot of hurt. The knowledge that it meant nothing. The knowledge that Regulus was asking him specifically not only due to his reputation, but because he hated him.
“I’d like to point out that you’re just using me here,” James noted. “And I’m not sure I appreciate it.”
“I didn’t know it was that easy to hurt your feelings, Potter,” Regulus teased, but James frowned.
“It’s actually rather easy to hurt my feelings, Black, if you know what buttons to push. And apparently you’ve found one,” he said coldly. Regulus blinked at him, clearly a little surprised by that.
“I tell you every day how much of a prat you are, and this hurts your feelings?”
“Insulting me is different,” James shook his head.
“How?”
“Because it’s–” James cut himself off, because he was dangerously close to saying something… well, something dangerous. Cute, maybe. Endearing. Charming. Hot, his mind supplied, and if it was possible, he would really have liked to strangle his own brainstem at that. Regulus raised his eyebrows. “Different.”
“Different because it’s different,” Regulus echoed. “You’ve got a way with words.”
“Look, you’re the poet, alright? Not me.” James shook his head, and then paused at the way Regulus’ eyes widened a little. James attempted to backtrack. “I’m not snooping or anything, I– you left some parchment in one of my books.” Regulus turned red, and James was half mortified and half thrilled about it for some reason. “I only read a bit.” Lie. Big lie. Huge lie. James had read it, and then read it again, and then read it again and again and again, and then tucked it into the bottom of his trunk to read in the dark hours of the night when he was feeling self destructive.
“Fuck’s sake,” Regulus muttered.
“Not my fault.”
“Shut up.”
“You left it there!”
“Shut up,” Regulus groaned, pressing his palms against his eyes.
“You’re a good writer,” James added quietly, and Regulus was clearly intending to tell him to shut up again regardless of what James said, but for some reason that stopped him. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then bit the inside of his cheek. He glanced over his shoulder again at Jay, and James looked as well. They were being watched. It was creepy, James decided. It made his skin crawl. There was nothing worse than someone who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.
James was pretty sure Regulus would. If James told him no right now, if he said it in no unspecific terms, if he made it crystal clear, then Regulus would leave him alone. He knew that. He knew that, so… so why was he still entertaining this? Letting Regulus talk him into it? It was a bad idea. It was an awful, terrible, very bad idea. It would do nothing to help the tug in his chest, and in fact, it would probably wrench his heart right out of his body.
Fuck, James thought. This is ridiculous, James thought. You’ve got very pretty eyes, James thought.
“Excuse me?” Regulus said.
Oh, he had not meant to say that out loud, and he couldn’t really take it back now, because pretty eyes didn’t exactly sound like anything else he could casually play off.
“Nothing,” James said, which was very smooth indeed.
“Now, hold on–”
“No.”
“James–”
“What if I go talk to him instead?” James proposed. Regulus shook himself a little.
“Wh– wait, who? Jay? James, are you even listening?” Regulus looked over his shoulder again, and his eyes went a little wide. “Oh, for fucks sake.”
“What?” James started to look over his shoulder as well, but Regulus grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, stopping him.
“He’s coming over,” Regulus hissed, and he looked mortified. Not only did he look mortified, he looked frustrated, and upset, and anxious, and all of this combined into a very sad, puppyish expression, tied together with a terrible string of desperation. “Kiss me.”
Fuck.
“Reg–”
“James, kiss me now.” Fuck, fuck, fuck– “Kiss me, and I’ll owe you–”
Restraint was never a great skill of James’.
In fact, James would say it was perhaps his greatest weakness. He had very little desire to hold himself back from practically anything; quidditch, academics, mischief, parties… and up until now, his greatest demonstration of restraint had been to not do exactly what he was currently doing, which was kissing Regulus Black.
But fuck, it was difficult to regret it at the moment, because Regulus was soft and warm and he smelled like mint and firewhiskey and he was a little sharp like pepper. James wondered if Regulus had meant, like, a little peck on the cheek, or a chaste touch of the lips, because if so, he’d be very justified in pulling away or pushing James back or even perhaps slapping him, and James almost wished that he would, because, again– restraint? Not his strength.
But Regulus did not push him away. Regulus clutched James’ shirt in his fingers just below his collar, tugging him closer, so James allowed himself a brief reprieve from cruelty and chose, momentarily, to believe that this was real. That Regulus did not hate him. That this mattered. He snaked his fingers around the back of Regulus’ head, carding his hand through his hair, and it was soft enough to make him shiver a little.
Regulus made a noise– a very small, very soft noise, all the way in the back of his throat, almost like a whine– and James managed to gather the wherewithal to pause, just for a moment. To give Regulus an out. He pulled back, just a little, just enough to give them space to breathe. Just enough to see that Regulus’ eyes were still closed, that his cheeks were red and his ears were hot.
This was, apparently, not what the little whine meant.
Regulus followed, chasing after him, tugging him back in by his shirt, so James decided that if this was his one opportunity to kiss Regulus, if this was his one chance, then he might as well be a little bold. James had a reputation after all (apparently). He could just tell a white lie and said he was trying to really sell it.
He reached around and placed his hand against the small of Regulus back, stepping forward into his space, and he leaned them back so that Regulus was leaning with his shoulders against the wall behind him. They were closed off from the world here in this little back corner, and James sort of forgot why they were kissing in the first place, or why they were even here, frankly, because there were much more important things to think about; namely, how Regulus opened his mouth and breathed in and dug his fingers into the soft spots above James’ hip bones.
And then James did the terribly desperate, not very bold nor smooth nor suave thing of fucking moaning into Regulus’ mouth.
Regulus pulled back a bit, and James bit his lip hard to curb the impulse to go surging straight back in. At the very least, Regulus granted him the small relief of keeping their foreheads pressed together. It felt a bit like coming up for air. He heard music filter back in, and he’d sort of forgotten they were at a party, and that there was music, and that there were people.
“Jesus, Potter,” Regulus breathed, hot against James’ face. James was pretty sure if he opened his mouth, he’d drool, so he kept it shut tight. He hummed lowly, the sound rumbling a little in his chest. “Overselling a bit, aren’t you?” James huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Hold on,” Regulus murmured, and James felt his hands flex a little at his waist.
Regulus flipped them deftly, trading places with James so he was now pressed against the wall instead. Regulus pressed James’ hips back against the stone so he couldn’t move away, not that he’d want to, of course… fuck, James thought. He swallowed hard.
See, this was why this was a bad idea. Because James was pinned here, now, and Regulus ducked his head and rested his face against James’ neck, and James’ thoughts stuttered to a halt so fast he gave himself whiplash. He tilted his chin up, facing the ceiling. It was only mildly better than the agony that would certainly come from burying himself into Regulus’ hair. Fuck.
“Do you see him?” Regulus asked. James blinked.
“Wh… what?” he managed.
“Do you see Jay?”
“Oh,” James muttered. “Oh,” he added, actually putting together what Regulus was asking him, remembering the exact circumstances of this. He forced himself to look back down, and when he did, he found himself staring directly into a very cold gaze.
“Well?” Regulus murmured into James’ chest. Again: fuck. It was difficult to formulate any other thought. But then there was also Jay, watching him and Regulus from afar, absolute disgust in his eyes, and, well, that did a little something, didn’t it?
“I see him,” James sighed, and then the James Potter -ness of him all seemed to re-enter his body in one bold swoop.
So he did the very James Potter thing, which was to wink at Jay, and then to absolutely bask in the scowl he earned. Because only James Potter could make out with a boy and then wink at his ex from across the room. There were perks to being this egotistical, he thought. This was one of them.
And here was another: “I think he’s a bit unconvinced,” James murmured, and he put his fingers under Regulus’ chin to draw his gaze up. Regulus met his eyes, and for another brief moment, James’ thoughts got lost in that same haze from earlier, a record catching over and over– you’ve got very pretty eyes. If he looked closely enough, it almost seemed like Regulus was a little lost in James' eyes as well. “Once more ought to do it,” he added softly.
It was not lost on him the way Regulus blushed a little, then, staring back at him. James basked in that as well.
Regulus didn’t answer. Instead, he put his hands at either side of James’ jaw and pressed him back against the wall and kissed him hard, far more hungry than James had kissed Regulus, needy, like he was afraid James would flit away if he lost his attention for even a second. And the terribly stupid part of James’ mind posed a very terribly stupid question, which was, what if this was real?
Again, terribly stupid, but no one had really kissed James like this before. Sure, he’d made his rounds, as Regulus had awfully put it, but there was something feverish to this, something pent up, something harsh and lovely both at once. No one had kissed James like this, and James hadn’t kissed anyone like this, and maybe that meant– maybe that meant something. Something terribly stupid.
Regulus leaned in further, and James’ head knocked against stone, but he didn’t really mind the ache. It was hard to mind anything at the moment, especially when Regulus was opening his mouth and sliding his hand down James’ chest and leaning forward so his thigh was slotted between James’–
“Still unconvinced?” Regulus breathed, pulling away abruptly, and James lurched after him a little, entirely unintentionally. Regulus turned his chin a little to the side, and James wound up resting his forehead against Regulus’ temple as he recovered his senses.
“What?” he asked mindlessly, his thoughts scattered to the wind.
“Does he still look unconvinced?” Regulus asked, enunciating a bit more clearly than James thought was appropriate, and he pulled back, blinking at him. Regulus was looking at him expectantly, and that… it made something ache in James’ chest. And then it hit him sort of all at once that this did not feel good at all, now. That this was not something. That he was, in fact, terribly stupid . Just a moment ago, he was warm and tingly, and now it was like something cold was spreading through his blood.
Because James had pointed it out himself; Regulus was just using him. It already hurt before, but now it hurt so much more.
“This was a bad idea,” James breathed, his heart suddenly catching in his chest. What was it he thought to himself earlier? If this was his one chance… well, that was a load of shit , he thought– how could he have ever thought this would be enough? Enough to what? Satiate this hunger? This was like dangling a steak in front of a lion and asking it not to drool. What was wrong with him? Genuinely, really, truly, what was wrong with him? He groaned, frustration building slowly, and he felt it behind his eyes. Regulus had pulled away so easily.
“What?” Regulus huffed, and that little bit of annoyance in his tone made James want to throw him down some stairs.
“Yeah, he’s convinced,” James said instead, his tone painfully dry. “Great acting.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve got yourself all worked up, Potter,” Regulus scoffed. James clenched his jaw. Regulus looked over his shoulder and found that Jay had apparently fucked off to who knows where, which was good for Jay’s own sake, because James wanted to punch something right now and he was pretty high on the list. “Seems he’s buggered off.”
“Seems that way,” James said through gritted teeth. Regulus looked back at him and paused, taking in whatever sour expression James was certainly wearing at that moment, and he looked confused. He forced himself to drop the scowl. “Right, then. Got everything you need? My reputation serve you well?” It was a bit of a mean way of asking that, he realized. Cold. Far colder than James wanted to be, but equally as cold as he felt.
“Er… yeah,” Regulus muttered hesitantly.
And then James reminded himself that this was really all Regulus had asked for, honestly, wasn’t it? Just a kiss. Just something to get his ex off of his back. Just something so he’d be left alone. Nothing more. James had agreed to that, by definition of accepting the terms, hadn’t he? He really had no right to be angry at Regulus for this. This was all on him. Entirely his fault. He had himself to blame, and that made it much worse.
“Great,” James muttered. “Cheers.” He sidestepped around Regulus before he had a chance to react, making a distinct effort not to touch him. Fuck, James thought. Though he might have said it out loud as well. He didn’t really know.
The party was still going, of course. Loud music and talking and people and drinks still flying about. It was a little odd, frankly, that the world kept right on spinning just like normal when he least wanted it to.
Sirius was, thank fucking god, nowhere to be seen, though James was sure news of this would reach him at some point. He’d just have to tell a convincing story. That this was meaningless, that he was just doing Regulus a favor, that Regulus still hated him. At least one of those things was true. He wished more than anything that it was either of the first options, but he knew better than to think it was anything other than the last. But even then, he almost wished that Sirius was here right now, because he either needed to talk to someone, to yell at someone, or for someone to yell at him. Maybe all three.
He took an inventory. If Sirius wasn’t here, then Remus certainly wasn’t either. Sirius was the only reason Remus ever went to a party, and Remus was the only reason Sirius ever left a party, and so they were certainly off somewhere having much more fun than James. Peter had been avoiding one of the Ravenclaw prefects for the past week because he accidentally implied that he was in love with her (which he was– or at least infatuated) and the embarrassment of that was enough to keep him far from the tower even for a party. Marlene was busy (Dorcas) and Lily was busy (Mary) which thoroughly eliminated all of the individuals that could either talk, yell, or be yelled at. Excluding Regulus, of course. And he truly did intend to exclude Regulus. He was very intentionally not looking back, definitely not looking to that corner, and certainly not thinking about how soft Regulus’ hair was when he–
James took a drink from one of the enchanted trays floating about and without really thinking through the decision, he downed it in roughly three seconds flat. The firewhiskey made his chest bloom with heat and his head swim, and the butterbeer it was mixed with was sickly sweet and bubbly on his tongue. And then he regretted that choice because woah, that was a strong drink, and who the hell mixed this? Fuck.
This night was just one bad choice after another, wasn’t it?
Maybe this was some sort of punishment. For what, he didn’t know, but it sure as hell felt like a punishment.
The room swayed a little, and wow, that really was a strong drink. That was like, four shots in one. Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart, weren’t they? He needed some air.
On his way out, he allowed himself the poor-little-baby moment of moping about how many people wanted to say hello to him upon his exit.
And so eventually, several dodged conversations and near-stumbles later, found himself sitting on the stairs outside of the Ravenclaw common room, leaning his temple against the cold stone wall. He twiddled his wand around in his fingers, twirling it around with his pointer finger and thumb (Remus always said he would accidentally blow his hand off doing that, which was the exact reason Sirius encouraged it).
He leaned forward, tucking his head between his knees and groaning far too dramatically for his own good, but sue him– he was frustrated and lonely and in love and far too tipsy to be dealing with any of those emotions independently, nonetheless all at once.
Someone sat down beside him, then, and it startled him so badly that he whipped his head up and knocked it against the wall, biting his tongue as he did.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Ow,” he added, rubbing the back of his head.
“You look miserable,” Regulus aptly pointed out. Fuck.
“Oh, aye, Sherlock,” James shot back, training his gaze down at the stairs below them. He wondered if it would be a faster escape to run down the stairs or throw himself down them. Awfully dramatic today, aren’t we, James? he thought.
“Am I that bad a snog?” Regulus asked.
It was a joke, and James knew that, but some combination of pining and regret and desperation and firewhiskey made the words twist all around in his stomach, and he ducked his head down again, folding his hands over the back of his neck in some hope that the chill in his fingers would calm the hot hurricane of emotions he was feeling.
“Alright, alright,” Regulus muttered, fidgeting a little beside James on the stair, and James wanted to tell him to piss off in all the same tone that Regulus always used on him. He didn’t, of course. He wished he could. “I didn’t… look, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” James kept his head ducked low. He didn’t trust his face not to betray him, just then. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last drink, he thought. Heartache and firewhiskey didn’t mix well.
“It’s fine,” James muttered at the floor, which he realized implied that, yes, Regulus had made him uncomfortable, which wasn’t entirely true (because James had in fact been very comfortable slotting their bodies together like puzzle pieces) but also not entirely false (because James was now feeling like he’d like to throw himself against a brick wall).
“Well, obviously it’s not,” Regulus pointed out. He was picking at the skin around his thumbnails the way he did when he was anxious. “You're smashed.”
“For your information,” James drawled, picking his head up, “I was smashed earlier as well.”
“Oh, well, that’s worse,” Regulus muttered.
“Why’s that?” James rolled his head to the side a little, looking at Regulus out of the corner of his eye.
“I think I’ve taken advantage of you,” Regulus said, and James snorted loud enough that it echoed down the stairs.
“I’m a big boy, Reggie, I can handle my whiskey,” James shook his head. He didn’t even have to look up to know Regulus was scowling over that nickname, and it made his cheeks a little warm– oh, jesus christ, now his fucking scowl makes you blush? You’re all mopey and you can still swoon over him?
“I’m trying to–” Regulus made a rather grumpy little sound. James bit the inside of his cheek to avoid smiling. “You were right,” he admitted, and James’ eyebrows shot up. “I was using you, and that… er… that wasn’t nice.”
“I don’t expect you to be nice, Regulus.”
“Yes, well, you should at least expect me to be decent.”
James sighed, straightening his spine a little. He rolled his shoulders back, tilting his head from side to side. “Just leave it, yeah?” he mumbled. “It’s fine.”
“No, I– really, I think that was… um– manipulative. Of me,” Regulus said. “To do,” he added. “To you.”
It was manipulative, yes, but James wasn’t sure that Regulus knew exactly why it was manipulative. The rational side of James’ brain told him to follow his own advice; just leave it. The tipsy side wanted to know exactly what Regulus thought he was doing.
“How so?” the tipsy side of James asked. Whoever first said mind over matter clearly never tried firewhiskey.
“Well, I cornered you,” Regulus began.
“Yes.”
“While you were drunk.”
“Getting there.”
“And I asked you to kiss me.”
“You certainly did,” James said, and fuck if that wasn’t a bit of a fond memory now, eh? Maybe he was a masochist. Might explain a bit.
“Which I just sort of assumed you’d be okay with,” Regulus went on. “I figured you’d just be worried about what Sirius would do.”
“In my defense, I’m still worried about what Sirius will do,” James pointed out. That was an element of this that the tipsy side of James (which was really the whole of James at this point, let’s be honest) couldn’t deal with. Something for future, non-tipsy James to handle. Oh, wouldn’t that be fun. Yippee.
“Well, it wasn’t, uh… very considerate of– of your feelings.”
James blinked at him, and then narrowed his eyes a little, and Regulus shrunk under the scrutiny. For all the things Regulus Black was, considerate of others’ feelings was not one of them.
“Did you ask Dorcas what to say to me?” James guessed.
“No,” Regulus said, but he hesitated a moment too long. James raised his eyebrows. “I asked Lily.”
“Fuck’s sake, Regulus,” James groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Look, you were acting all weird about it–” Regulus said, and James groaned louder. “And usually when you get angry you’re very loud and dramatic , but you went all quiet and cold and it freaked me out, okay? It– I’ve really pissed you off, haven’t I?”
“I’m not pissed off,” James grumbled.
“Well it seems–”
“Reg,” James cut him off. Regulus closed his mouth. “Just… it’s fine. Okay? It’s fine.” There was a long silence between them in which James tried to convince himself of several things, namely 1: that he was not about to implode, and B: that maybe this was a terrible dream, and C: that Lily was not now painfully aware of James’ childish little crush, and 5: that he did not now hate Regulus as much as he was sure Regulus hated him.
And… E? F? Whatever: that he was not actually as drunk as he was, and that he was very sober and very normal and very James Potter right now, and not some sulky little wax winged teenage boy who flew too close to a dying star. Was that the metaphor? Sounded right. Who knows.
“Do you want me to leave?” Regulus asked. James blew out a breath, running his fingers down his face and rubbing his jaw.
“No,” he said truthfully.
“Well, you’re giving me mixed signals,” Regulus muttered. You think I’m giving you mixed signals? James wanted to demand. Me? I’m the one–?
“Yeah, I know,” James sighed, picking his battles. This seemed to appease Regulus at least enough that he relaxed a little bit, not holding himself so tensely on the stair beside James. James leaned further against the wall and waved his wand, summoning one of the trays of drinks.
“James, I don’t think–” Regulus began.
“Ah,” James cut him off with a single raised finger.
With his other hand, he poured one cup’s contents into its neighbor, and in the empty glass, he cast aguamenti. “Cheers,” he said, chugging the water, and then he decided that he needed to stop chugging things because his stomach churned painfully. Sips were the new hit thing, he decided. Sips and swigs. No more chugging. Chugging was out.
James rubbed his temple.
If he had considered the outcome for maybe a grand total of five more seconds, maybe he could have predicted he’d feel like this. All swirly and desperate and miserable. And now he was just frustrated, frustrated with himself and with Regulus and with Sirius and Remus (for some fucking reason– maybe for not being there to stop him?) and he was just sad. That’s what it boiled down to, wasn’t it? Sad because Regulus hated him and sad because now he knew what he was missing and sad because it meant nothing. It didn’t matter.
“Why would you ask me to do that?” James asked, his filter completely evading him and his voice hardly more than a whisper, and he felt Regulus tense up a little next to him. And oh, he was in it now. He was sad, and he was going to make it Regulus’ problem, because he sure as hell couldn’t make it his own.
“I… I thought it wouldn’t matter to you,” he mumbled.
“And it didn’t matter to you? Not at all?” James demanded– and that was a dangerous question. The most dangerous question. Because no matter what the answer was, it would have them rocketing out of this in-between space and hurtling dangerously close to the sun or to the ground or to the void, and those were all very scary things, honestly. Maybe it was because he was drunk, but the idea of hurtling anywhere made him a bit sick to his stomach.
“James–”
“You kiss me like that, and it doesn’t even matter to you?” he went on, waving a hand vaguely in front of him. “It really just– it genuinely doesn’t–?” he lost his words. They sort of petered out in his mind, fizzling like a lost spark, and he let his shoulders sag. “It’s fine,” he muttered again, covering his face with his hand. “Go back inside, Reg.”
Regulus was silent. He didn’t move. And when James finally gathered the courage to look over at him, he was staring right back at him, his eyes wide like saucers and his mouth hanging just slightly open, and James could practically see the gears turning in his head.
“You…” Regulus started, but he blinked, not quite there yet. And James realized he would get there. In a moment, he’d get there, and he’d know, and maybe that was fine. Maybe that didn’t matter, either. “It meant something to you?” Bingo, James thought. “Are you serious?” Regulus asked. “You– you’re joking. Are you serious?”
James rolled his eyes, looking back at the stairs below them.
“Oh my god, you’re serious,” Regulus gawked, and James had to chant don’t make a Sirius joke, don’t make a Sirius joke over and over in his head.
“Would you stop saying that?” James muttered.
“Oh, fucking hell, James,” Regulus groaned, putting his face into his hands.
“Why are you upset?”
“Because I– I wouldn’t have– Christ, James, I wouldn’t have asked if I knew you…” Regulus sighed, shaking his head.
“What, because you needed to make sure it didn’t matter?”
“Because I’m not cruel,” Regulus snapped. James closed his mouth with a click. “God, I’m sitting here going on about how it doesn’t matter and it doesn’t mean anything and– and– why didn’t you say anything?” He sounded genuinely upset, which was a little surprising to James, honestly.
“What am I supposed to say?” James scoffed. “Hey, Reggie, I know you hate my guts, but I’ve had a fuckin’ schoolgirl crush on you since fourth year? Very dignified. Very rational. I know you don’t think so, but I’ve got some self respect, thank you very much.”
Regulus was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, it wasn’t what James expected. “I don’t hate your guts,” he muttered quietly.
“Yeah, sure.”
“I mean it,” Regulus shook his head. “I mean, you piss me off, but I don’t hate you. I… James, I can count the number of people I genuinely hate on one hand, and frankly the list stops at my parents.” James breathed a sad sort of laugh. “I don’t hate you,” Regulus repeated. “I don’t think I can.”
James blinked at him. “And why’s that?”
“You saved my brother,” Regulus murmured.
The sentiment hung in the air between them, and James found that he really didn’t have anything to say to that. He just sort of stared at the stairs below them, feeling more sober now than he’d felt in an hour.
“And I don’t know if you knew that,” Regulus added softly. “But you did. That place was destroying him. My parents were destroying him. And you…” Regulus pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them, and James felt his heart tug. “You gave him somewhere to go.”
“It was destroying both of you,” James pointed out, his voice quiet. Regulus tensed up a little. “And even if you had somewhere to go, leaving was half the battle, anyway.”
“I’m trying to say thank you, James,” Regulus said a little tiredly. James pursed his lips.
“Any time,” he replied, and he meant it. “For the record, I hate your parents, too.”
Regulus laughed. “I’m sure they hate you right back.”
“Good,” James shrugged. Regulus hid a smile, shaking his head. “Look, Reg, just… just forget this happened, okay? You didn’t take advantage of me. I made my own stupid choices and I hurt my own feelings. That’s not on you. You can just…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Just go back inside, just go back to normal, just leave it, just leave me alone.
Regulus let that settle for a second, and when he spoke, it was low and a little secretive. “You’ve had a crush on me since fourth year?” he asked. James groaned internally.
“Did I say that?”
“You did.”
“Lovely. Love that for me.”
“I, um…” Regulus hesitated. “I had a crush on you in first year.” James’ eyes widened a little where he was training his gaze down the stairs, and he lifted his chin, turning to Regulus, who was avoiding his gaze. “I’ve… I’ve had a crush on you since first year.” James narrowed his eyes, because that… that was a little too good to be true. There was no way. There was no way. He dug his thumbnail into the side of his finger just to make sure he was actually awake.
“Don’t mess with me right now, Regulus,” he muttered.
“I’m– I’m not,” Regulus shook his head, and his cheeks were turning red. Oh, James thought. “I’m really not.” Oh, fuck. And then Regulus looked into James’ eyes, and then flicked his gaze down at his mouth, and then back up, and he bit his lip just a little. “You’re… I mean, you’re James Potter,” he shrugged.
James blinked at him. Was this– was that– did that mean–
“Do you… um…” Regulus swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed a little, and he flushed, and it was making James’ eyes go a little crossed. “Do you still–”
And, well, restraint was never a great skill of James’.
He crashed his mouth into Regulus’ so fast their teeth clacked against each other. Regulus made a startled sort of noise, but his shock lasted half a second before he shot his hands out and snaked his fingers up either side of James’ face and held him tightly as though James would have even been capable of pulling away if he wanted to.
And if James thought that no one had kissed him quite like this before, then he was even more out of his depth now.
It very easily could have been the whiskey, or the pent up frustration, or the realness of it all (or far more likely a combination of all three), but James felt like he was floating. He felt like the world around them had gone quiet, like it had slipped away and they were just there in the void with each other. Regulus’ hands were on his neck and James’ hands were fisted into Regulus’ shirt and James’ chest was hot. His whole body was hot. He was pretty sure his blush traveled all the way down from the way it seemed to warm his stomach as well.
Regulus was a bit of commanding force, James realized, far more than he seemed at a glance. He was pushy, and he held on tight, and he pressed back and pulled and took more than he gave, but that was perfect, frankly, because James was willing to give anything, everything, and more. Regulus forced his mouth open and James let him. Regulus pinned him against the wall and James let him. Regulus held onto his hair so tight it stung a little and James let him.
And when Regulus gasped, finally coming up for air, James really had no clue what to do with his mouth, so he went for Regulus’ jaw, and then the soft spot just below his ear, and then his throat. Regulus tasted sweet. He was addictive.
“You’re gonna leave marks,” Regulus said breathlessly, but he didn’t remove his fingers from where they were entwined in James’ hair.
“Good,” James murmured, and Regulus held him a little tighter. “You wanted people to leave you alone, right?” James exhaled into Regulus’ neck, and he could have sworn he felt Regulus shiver. “What was it you said about my reputation, love? If James Potter snogs someone at a party…”
“Ugh, do you let everything go right to your ego?” Regulus groaned, and James laughed against his skin, nosing his chin up so he could get at the spot just under his jaw. He could feel Regulus’ pulse there.
“Not everything,” James breathed, pausing in his onslaught. “Only the things you tell me.” He pulled back solely because he knew it would drive Regulus up the wall. He was right, of course. Regulus gripped the back of James’ neck and held him in place like he was scruffing a cat, and it only made James laugh more. “Sirius is gonna kill me.”
“Please don’t talk about my brother right now,” Regulus muttered painfully.
“Right,” James nodded. “Sorry.”
“But you’re right,” Regulus added, “he’s gonna kill you.”
James barked out a laugh. “Oh, Christ,” he mumbled, feeling the lightheaded floatiness return to him in a rush. He had to steady himself a little on Regulus, the stairs tipping a little underneath him, and he recalled a little belatedly that he’d had a few too many drinks just before this. That felt like a lifetime ago, like somehow they’d passed centuries together in just a few minutes. Even so, James could still hear music muffled behind the Ravenclaw common room door, a gentle reminder that time was, in fact, still marching on.
“Are you still smashed?” Regulus asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Well, it doesn’t just go away, Reggie,” James sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Though I must say, you’ve sobered me up a bit.”
“Have I?”
“Like a cold shower,” James grinned.
“Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Regulus asked, puzzled.
“Oh, it’s very good. A shock that wakes you up. I feel very awake, honestly, don’t you?” James sighed, leaning back against the wall behind him, letting his fingers settle against Regulus’ thigh, and he ran his thumb back and forth idly over the inside. Regulus kept his grip on James’ shirt. His face was flushed and his ears and neck were pink, and even though the stairwell was dim, James could see the reddening marks he’d left under Regulus’ jaw and down to his collar. He felt something tug in his stomach.
“I feel a bit like I’m dreaming, actually,” Regulus admitted softly. He was keeping his gaze trained down at his hands, chewing on his lip nervously. James reached out, pushing Regulus’ hair out of his face and catching his cheek in his palm. He tilted Regulus’ face up to meet his gaze, and when he did, James just sort of stared at him for a moment.
“You’ve got very pretty eyes,” James mused.
“You said that earlier,” Regulus noted.
“Yeah, I know,” James smirked. “I just wanted to make sure you heard me.” The corners of Regulus’ mouth turned up a little, and James counted that as a success. Regulus reached up, placing his hand over James’ where it was resting against his cheek. James let him tug it away, holding it instead in his lap.
“I’m sorry,” Regulus mumbled, and James frowned.
“What for?”
“For asking you to kiss me.”
“Oh,” James breathed. Oh, right, he thought, the thing that got us into this mess. Well, it wasn’t a mess. Not anymore. It was sort of a happy coincidence, now. He’d forgotten he was even upset about it, really– not much moping to be done when you got exactly what you wanted, after all. “Well, I’m not sorry for doing it. Not anymore.” It was true. He couldn’t stop smiling.
“It was cruel,” Regulus shook his head. “I shouldn’t have asked–”
“I’m glad you did,” James cut him off and squeezed his hand a little. “Worth the price.”
“I’ve been awful to you,” Regulus pointed out.
“I hope you’ll keep on with that,” James said, pursing his lips to avoid smiling. “I quite like it, honestly. Hopefully that’s not something terribly damning, psychologically.”
“You’re a mess,” Regulus shook his head, but he was running his thumb back and forth over James’ collarbone, which made the insult far more exciting than offensive.
“Ah, but I’m your mess, now,” James sighed dreamily, leaning his full weight against the wall behind him and tipping his head back against the stone.
“Are you?” Regulus asked quietly.
“Hm?”
“My mess.”
James hummed happily, closing his eyes. “If you’d like,” he murmured. “I’d be your anything, if you’d like. Just ask.”
He felt Regulus shift a little, and then there were fingers brushing against the back of his neck, tugging him forward just a little. He kept his eyes closed like this was a curious sort of experiment, something secret. Regulus pressed a kiss to his lips, but it wasn’t desperate like before. It was soft, chaste almost, innocent like a first kiss could be. James reached up blindly, running his fingers through Regulus’ hair again, and god, how many times had he dreamed of this? And now it was real… it was real, right? He didn’t pinch himself again, just in case, because if it was a dream, it was a very nice one.
Regulus kissed James softly, and then kissed his cheek, and then his jaw, and then leaned forward and slotted himself against James’ body, curling up a little against him. James smiled, his eyes still closed, and he opened his arms a bit more to let Regulus get comfortable. It felt quite a bit like that corner from before, honestly– the same safety and security, the same feeling of being closed off from the world.
“Do you forgive me?” Regulus asked. James draped an arm around his shoulders, and Regulus settled easily against his chest.
“Always,” James replied without hesitation. “But what for?”
“I dunno,” he shook his head. “Everything.”
“Everything,” James laughed. “Sure,” he sighed, running his fingers back and forth on Regulus’ arm. “All forgiven. Good?”
“You’re very easy to please, Potter,” Regulus murmured.
“Part of my reputation, probably,” James shrugged one shoulder, trying not to jostle Regulus. “Apparently I’ve got a pretty distinct one. Did you know? I didn’t.”
“How could you not?”
James let his head fall back against the wall again. He could feel his own heartbeat in his throat, and Regulus’ right alongside it echoing in his chest, and it made him smile. Everything about this made him smile. “I thought things just sort of worked out for me,” he said.
“Idiot,” Regulus said.
“Your idiot?” James teased a little, and Regulus breathed a laugh.
“You’re serious about this, then?” he asked a little hesitantly. “You’d…”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” James murmured. “Christ, you’ve got no idea… hold on.” James tilted his head a little, looking down at Regulus, because a new fear entered his chest. “You’re not drunk, are you?”
“James–”
“Because I’m smashed, but I think it’s quite a bit worse if you’re smashed, too, to be honest–”
“I’m not–”
“I mean, I really hope you don’t feel pressured or anything, because I’m here confessing quite a bit, but you really don’t need to reciprocate if– if you don’t want–”
“James,” Regulus cut him off sternly, looking up at James through his eyelashes. “I haven’t had a single drink.” James blinked at him.
“You what? Really?”
Regulus shook his head. “Jay was freaking me out all night,” he admitted quietly, looking down again and resting his cheek on James’ collarbone. “I couldn’t relax.” James hated how relieved he was by that, because Regulus deserved to have fun at a party, but now it was real, and it was real, and it wasn’t some drunken mistake, and it wasn’t a dream. Fuck, he thought happily.
“Well that’s no fun,” James tutted, and yet some part of him was overjoyed, because if Regulus wasn’t drunk, that meant that this was entirely, undeniably, unequivocally real. “You know, I’d quite like to knock his teeth out as well. He plays quidditch right? Feels like a good opportunity.”
“I’d cheer you on,” Regulus said. “I’ve had quite shit luck with blokes, I think.”
“Me included?”
“Absolutely,” Regulus nodded, but James could tell he was smirking. “You’re the worst by far,” he continued. “You’re egotistical, and vain, and you’re so bloody oblivious, and you…” Regulus’ voice trailed off a little. “You really thought I hated you?” He asked it rather sadly, and it made James feel guilty that he’d ever entertained the notion.
“Oh, I don’t know, Reg,” he mumbled, his face twisting into a frown. “I… well, I tend to feel things all or nothing, you know? Sometimes… sometimes I assume others are the same. So if you didn’t like me, then… it sounds stupid, now I’m saying out loud.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s a bit of an issue, honestly. Parts of me tend to overflow sometimes.”
“But I don’t hate you,” Regulus insisted. James squeezed his shoulder, holding him tighter. “I didn’t want you to think I hated you. I was just– I mean, you’re my brother’s best friend, and you’re James Potter, so how was I supposed to… I figured it was easier to act like…”
“If it’s any consolation,” James noted, “I didn’t think you hated me until last year.” Regulus scoffed.
“Take a guess at that, then,” he muttered. Take a guess? James thought. A guess at what? At why…
“Oh,” James said. “That’s… that’s when Lily and I got together.”
That made so much sense, actually. Far more sense than what James thought was the reason, which was that James was stealing Sirius away from him (which could very well have also been true, but he figured that was a stone best left unturned for now). He and Lily had only dated for a few months before they realized they were much better as friends. And yet Regulus had held onto that grudge until just now.
“Oh, you’re a jealous little thing, aren’t you?” James laughed. He could practically feel Regulus rolling his eyes.
“Piss off,” Regulus muttered.
“Don’t mope,” James scolded lightheartedly. “I sort of like that. No one’s ever been possessive of me before.” He hummed pensively. “It’s…” James whistled. “I’m finding out an awful lot about myself tonight, you know,” he mused. “You’re on a journey of self discovery with me.”
“Am I now?” Regulus deadpanned.
“Very much so. What have we established, then?”
“You’re overly emotional,” Regulus said. James nodded. “And oblivious.” James nodded again. “And you like your partners mean and possessive,” Regulus listed. “You and Jay might get on nicely, actually,” he added.
James made a very sour face. “Oh, don’t say that. I hated that.”
Regulus stifled a laugh. “Lucky for you, I can also be mean and possessive.”
“Lucky me,” James grinned, and his chest felt all warm and tingly, because oh, he felt very lucky just now. Impressively so. Lucky to be here, lucky Regulus was here, lucky Regulus was leaned against his chest, curled under his arm, their legs intertwined just slightly on the stairs. Lucky that if someone walked past them just now, that might think this was something. Lucky that apparently this was something . That made James grin wider.
“I can’t even see your face, and I know you’re smiling like an idiot,” Regulus said, and then it was James’ turn to laugh.
“Oh, you know me so well,” he sighed. “Is that part of my reputation as well?”
“The smile or the idiocy?”
“Either, I suppose,” James shrugged.
“Both, then,” Regulus replied. “But at least the idiocy balances out the ego.”
“Come on, admit it. You like the ego.”
“I absolutely do not.”
“Is that why you’re blushing?”
“You’re infuriating. And an idiot.”
“Ugh, tell me more,” James swooned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Call me names.”
“You’re so bloody weird,” Regulus rolled his eyes. “Christ, what’s wrong with you? You’ve got a screw loose or something.”
“Oh, it’s much more than a screw,” James smirked. “It’s the whole operation. I’m falling apart at the seams.”
“You’ve got a lot of metaphors going on, here,” Regulus pointed out.
“Be nice to me, I’m smashed,” James laughed, shoving Regulus’ shoulder gently.
“Thought you didn’t expect me to be nice?” Regulus said. He lifted his head from James’ chest, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh, true,” James sighed. “Fantastic point. Be mean. I love it when you’re mean.” Regulus turned pink, and James took a great deal of pleasure in it. “You’re so good at it, love.”
“I think there’s something psychological going on there,” Regulus shook his head. “Not sure what it is, just yet.”
“Want to find out together?” James smirked, leaning forward a little, and Regulus’ eyes widened a little when he did.
“You’re a mess.”
“Your mess?” James asked, the same sentiment from before, but he let it hold a bit more weight, now. He let it simmer in his eyes. He watched as it settled on Regulus as well. “I mean it,” James added. “I’d be your anything. ”
“Anything…” Regulus echoed.
“Anything. Everything. Would you let me be?” James asked. He put a hand on Regulus’ cheek, so gently it was like his fingers were hardly even there. “Go on,” he urged. “You’re not taking advantage of me, this time, I swear. I’m offering,” James said, moving his hand to lift Regulus’ chin with his thumb and finger. It was very endearing how he could pinpoint the exact moments where he caused Regulus’ thoughts to stutter a little. They stared at each other for a long moment. “Make me yours?”
“Fuck,” Regulus murmured, and he grasped James’ face firmly in his hands and kissed him. And because James was still a bit tipsy, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing into Regulus’ mouth, a bubbly, joyful noise, sort of victorious. It made Regulus hold him tighter, press him back further, take more and more and more from him. James trailed his hands down Regulus’ chest, resting at his hips, and with one hand, he let his fingers snake under the hem of his shirt to rest against warm skin and dig in just a little. When he did, Regulus gasped, and the noise was like music.
“That’s a yes, then?” James asked, almost teasingly.
“Shut up,” Regulus breathed, yanking James’ hair back sharply so he could have a go at his neck, and James melted under him, letting himself tune everything else out but the feeling of Regulus’ lips under his jaw and Regulus’ waist under his fingers and Regulus’ skin on his skin.
“Happily,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering closed.