Work Text:
Their eyes meet as the bottleneck points at him.
Well, maybe tonight will be fun after all.
Their friends whistle and howl, and his brother cackles loudly as he slowly gets up from the floor, where their group is sitting in a circle, in front of the fireplace.
It’s winter break, his first Yule after being disowned by his parents, and Sirius —in an attempt to repair their brotherly relationship— has not only decided to stay with him at Hogwarts, but also convinced/threatened both of their friend groups to stay too. So now here they are— the snakes and the lions, together in an otherwise empty Gryffindor common room. Drinking muggle beer that Peter has smuggled in Salazar knows how.
His relationship with his brother has been practically non-existent for a couple of years. All of that changed this summer, when Walburga found Regulus kissing a boy from down the street at Grimauld. It was a bad day for him. That same night he took the floo to go to the one person he swore he hated more than anything. The person who stole his brother from him.
“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Sirius laughs, half sitting in his boyfriend’s lap, getting both too touchy and too loud when drinking alcohol if you ask Regulus.
This so-called party was grating on Regulus’ already horrible mood. He never liked the holiday season, which comes to a surprise to absolutely no one, if you know the way he grew up. And Sirius has been trying so hard to make up for it, to finally give him a good experience, but he has put so much pressure on making this the perfect holiday for his little brother, that it now feels like a chore. What Sirius does not understand, is that Regulus does not want a perfect, happy Yule celebration. He does not feel like celebrating at all. But he does not know how to explain that to his brother, for whom being kicked out of the family felt like a batch of honour. But Regulus misses them. Not who they were, but who he wished they were, who they could become. He knows its unrealistic, that they would never change, that he is better off without them. But sadly, his stupid feelings don’t listen to reason.
Speaking of stupid feelings. James stares at him, eyes big, a deer in headlights, mouth slightly open, and not moving a muscle.
Barty half climbs over Evans lap to punch James on the arm, making him blink back into consciousness, scowling at Barty and rubbing his arm. “Oi, what was that for?”
“Mate, I think your soul left your body for a second there,” Peter comment, half concerned, half amused.
“Which brother do you think he’s more afraid of?” Dorcas’ girlfriend Marlene stage whispers to her, overheard by absolutely everyone.
Not being part of the noble and most ancient house of Black has not dampened Regulus’ reputation at Hogwarts. He’s not particularly social, generally looks murderous and will not hold back on curses if people bother him. The other students have quickly learned this and try to not even breathe in his direction, having heard just how dreadful it can be to be at the wrong end of his wand.
In the beginning of this year there have been a few unfortunate souls who thought Regulus’ forced coming out must mean he is interested in men cornering him in dark corners of the castle to flirt with him. This brief instance of stupid bravery of the gay student body stopped abruptly when Lockhart ended up in the infirmary— Madam Pomfrey had to keep him in a magical coma for a week.
There have been a lot of rumours about that day, but no one truly knows what happened. The teachers could not prove Regulus’ involvement and Lockhart was uncharacteristically tight-lipped when he finally woke up. Most of the students of course believe it was him, and he has since been left alone by his ‘suitors’.
But there have been whispers about Regulus’ bothers involvement. Which makes sense when you factor in how incredibly overprotective Sirius has become, overcorrecting his behaviour from the last few years —and annoying Regulus to no end. He appreciates it of course. Sirius is trying, and he loves him for it. He also kind of wants to kill him.
What truly happened to Lockhart that day? That’s for the people involved to know and everyone else to fear.
James visibly gulps, eyes finding Sirius.
“Well,” Lily murmurs into her cup. “That answers that question.”
“Wrong choice,” Evan says, smirking at Regulus, who just stares at him coldly, making him shiver exaggeratedly. Sometimes, Regulus hates his friends. Not that they’re wrong. Regulus has a certain level of notoriety surrounding him, and he has done nothing to disprove it.
“T’is the rule of the game, Prongs,” his brother laughs, nudging him with his foot. “Up you go.”
James’ eyes find his again, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning at him while getting up. Regulus just scowls at him and Sirius laughs loudly. “Good luck mate, try to survive!”
“Any last words?” Peter chimes in.
“I’ll give a toast at your funeral,” Remus adds, and all three howl like wolves at the moon while James makes his way over to him, grinning at his friends.
Regulus has already moved to the staircase, rolling his eyes at the Marauders’ antics.
He gives dirty looks to the people sitting on the rug, drunk and leaning on each other, then turns around without a word and climbs up the stairs, James following behind, the rest of the group laughing loudly.
They don’t talk as they make their way up to the seventh year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory, but Regulus can feel James behind him, can feel his eyes on him, can hear his breath and smell the broom polish that seems to be permanently permeating the air around him.
Regulus walks into the dorm room and the connected bathroom, only turning around once he hears the door click closed around him. There is a muffling charm on the door, drowning out the noise of their friends downstairs.
He smirks at the boy standing at the door. “Scared, Potter?”
James’ features change in an instant as he smiles at him, turning from deer to lion, from prey to predator, making Regulus’ skin tingle with anticipation.
Within the blink of an eye, Regulus is pressed against the sink, strong dark hands at his hips. His breath hitches, and the smell of the older boy is all-encompassing. The muggle alcohol on his breath , mixed with mint toothpaste, broom-polish and the smell of the forest. He closes his eyes and breaths in deeply, thumbs finding their way under his shirt and drawing caressing circles right above the waistband of his trousers.
“Our friends think I should be,” James murmurs against the shell of his ear.
“And what do you think?” Regulus gasps as James nuzzles his nose against his throat before biting down on the juncture of his neck. He grabs James’ hair and pulls lightly, making the older boy hum contently, gripping his waist tighter.
“Baby, you could stab me and I’d thank you for it.”
“You’re an idiot”
“And you think I’m lying.”
“Of course you are.”
“Only one way to find out,” James grins, wiggling his eyebrows.
“I’m not going to stab you, James!”
“Then there’s no reason to be scared, is there?”
“Merlin, I hate you,” Regulus breaths in exasperation, pulling James in with his hand still in his hair, kissing him hard.
“Whatever you say, love,” James grins when they pull apart to catch their breath.
Regulus chases his lips, done with talking. James seems to agree, his tongue running over his lips, asking, and Regulus opens up for him, moaning as James’ tongue explores his mouth. He grips the older boys shoulders, runs his hands over the muscles of his back, defined from all his years as a Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and slips his hands under James’ jumper, trying to touch as much of his warm skin as possible.
Regulus has no remembrance on how or when it happened, but he finds himself sitting on the counter, legs wrapped around James’ middle, pulling him closer with the press of his feet.
But it’s not close enough. Regulus wants more. He pulls at James’ sweater, huffs in annoyance at the fabric between their bodies.
“Please don’t rip Moony’s sweater, love,” James murmurs against his lips. “He’s gonna be mad.”
“Then take it off, already,” Regulus hisses, still clawing at the fabric and the exposed skin underneath.
He whines as James slightly pulls away from him but is promptly rewarded with the view of a naked chest. He doesn’t waste a second to put his mouth on one of those firm pecks, feeling James’ rapid heartbeat on his tongue, hearing his breath hitch, as he licks over a hardening nipple.
James’ hand finds his jaw, pulling him up and pressing his lips against his again, tongues dancing, breath heavy, as Regulus touches and pulls and scratches at James’ back and shoulders.
James’ other hand works on opening the buttons of Regulus’ shirt, pulling it out of his trousers, dark hands roaming over a pale abdomen.
When Regulus’ hands drop down to James’ jeans, working on opening the button, James ends their kiss, pressing their foreheads together.
“Reg, love,” he says breathlessly. “We don’t have time.”
He’s right of course. They had seven minutes. Regulus has no idea how much time has passed since they left their friends down in the common room and their friends could come knocking at the door any second, telling them their time of what they probably assumed would be seven long minutes of uncomfortably stilted conversation and murderous intent would be over.
They had kept this a secret from everyone. When Regulus kissed James for the first time, he immediately panicked and pressed James against the stone wall of the astronomy tower they were in, wand at his throat, threatening his untimely and violent demise if he were to tell anyone. But James just smiled and reached out to caress his cheek. “Don’t worry Reg, this can stay between us,” he had said. That was three months ago. Now, Regulus thinks, he might have a boyfriend. He’s not sure, they didn’t have that particular conversation yet, but this feels very boyfriendy to him.
“Do you want me to stop?” Regulus whispers, so close to the older boy that their lips are touching. His hand is at the zipper of James’ jeans, unmoving, not wanting to cross the older boy’s boundaries.
But James could never stay away from danger. Exhibit A: Regulus.
James closes his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, before murmuring “fuck it” and surging forward, capturing Regulus’ lips with his own.
Regulus pulls down the sipper, slipping his hand in James’ pants. The older boy groans, biting Regulus’ lower lip, and Regulus, incited by this, starts moving his hand.
James grips his thighs, pulling him closer, their hips aligned and with that delicious pressure, Regulus lets his head fall back with a silent gasp. James jumps at the opportunity, attaching himself to Regulus’ throat, licking and biting at his pulse point.
Hands touching, hips rutting, they move together in desperation, in gasps and swallowed moans, frantically searching for a release, trying to stay quiet, even though the muffling charm makes it impossible for anyone to hear what is happening in the bathroom.
That is, until they are pulled apart by the sound of a loud screech. Regulus turns to see his brother standing in the open doorway. Of course, they forgot the locking charm. Sirius stands there— unmoving, unblinking, as pale a ghost.
Regulus stares at him, unimpressed. “Could you not have knocked?” he asks in a bored tone.
“I did, you fucking asshole!” Sirius shrieks in a way that makes Regulus’ head hurt, and he rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics. Does his brother walking in on him with his hand down Sirius’ best friends trousers make him uncomfortable? Of course, extremely so, but he would rather die than show Sirius that he’s bothered or, Salazar forbid, ashamed of what his brother witnessed.
“It’s been like fifteen minutes, I thought you might have stabbed my best friend or something!” Sirius half shouts, half whines. “James, put your fucking dick away!”
James looks half sheepish, half amused as he fixes his jeans, making no move to pick up his sweater that’s lying in a heap on the tiled floor.
“Explain this,” his brother says, pointing between the two half-dressed boys. It’s clear that he’s a lot drunker than he was when they left the common room. And he was already drunk then.
“Do you want a play-by-play?” Regulus drawls, making James snort with laughter. “You see, when two people find each-other attractive—”
“Stop!” Sirius cries.
“Ah, come on, Pads,” James laughs. “T’is the rule of the game.”
Sirius starts to spew a multitude of expletives with frankly impressive speed and creativity but gets interrupted by another voice coming from the dorm room.
“You know, I’m pretty good at healing spells, if James needs—
“Oh,” Lily stands behind Sirius in the door, looking between Regulus and James with intrigue in her eyes, a grin forming on her lips. “So, it seems James will be needing some healing spells in a minute,” she cackles before turning on the spot, skipping down the stairs. “Pandora, you won’t believe what happened!”
Regulus drops his head in his hands in exhaustion. Great, this is going to become a group conversation.
Sirius scowls, pointing at both of them. “You better be downstairs in two minutes.”
With that, he turns and stomps out of the bathroom.
Regulus does not move, until he feels James’ strong hands cupping his cheeks. “Look at me, baby,” he murmurs. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
Regulus nods and lets himself be kissed sweetly. They get dressed in silence, trying to make themselves look like they didn’t hook up in a bathroom just five minutes ago.
When they’re done, they stand in the doorframe, just looking at each other, preparing for the absolute chaos that will surely greet them downstairs.
James is the first one to move, and for a second Regulus wants to let him go, but then he reaches out, interlacing their fingers. James turns back to him with a questioning expression.
“Hey James?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you my boyfriend?”
And the smile on James’ face is brighter than the sun.