Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It starts with a joke.

Regulus and Dorcas are pressed closely together on Dorcas’ tiny couch, half-empty boxes of Chinese takeaway littering the coffee table in front of them. They’re both holding wine glasses nearly filled to the brim—Dorcas is on her second one, while Regulus is on his fourth—and watching the telly unblinkingly, refusing to miss even a single moment.

They both have work tomorrow, and quite early too, but losing hours of sleep over this is always worth it. Dorcas turned it into a tradition a few years ago, after she finally managed to convince Regulus to give the show a chance, and they’re so dedicated to it that they’ve cancelled plans because of it. Dorcas has called in sick before, and Regulus has stood up dates whenever an extra episode has dropped unexpectedly, barely bothering with believable enough excuses as he rushed to his friend’s flat, only stopping to get some food on the way.

It borders on obsession, they’re both aware, and are more than a little ashamed of it. But, well, the whole point of these kinds of shows is that they’re supposed to be addicting, otherwise people wouldn’t watch them, because they’re so bad it’s actually painful sometimes. Regulus thinks there’s nothing wrong with being hooked to a shitty reality show, but then again, it’s a part of his personality he wouldn’t admit to, not even under torture, so maybe there is something wrong with the situation.

Regardless, it is all Dorcas’ fault. Regulus wouldn’t have even considered giving the show a minute of his attention if she hadn’t begged, and then threatened, and then blackmailed him in the first place. He barely watches any television outside of the show’s weekly episodes when there’s a new season coming out, and he never used to drink so much and so often. At least, not in front of other people.

Alcohol is definitely a must, though. It doesn’t matter how invested Regulus is in this ridiculous dating show, there’s no way he can get through it without being more than a little tipsy.

“I think it’s gonna happen today,” Dorcas declares, reaching out to grab one of the leftover spring rolls forgotten on the table. “I can feel it.”

Regulus hums, before taking a tiny sip of his drink. He’s trying to slow down, or the possible hangover tomorrow is bound to kill him, but it’s hard when it’s such nice wine and when they still have nearly half an episode left.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, nose turning up at the couple grinding against each other on the screen. “I don’t think Millie will cross the line.”

Dorcas scoffs, chewing almost aggressively. “What do you mean? She was so fucking upset last episode after seeing that asshole she has for a boyfriend having sex with that girl in the fucking pool—”

“Sure, but she was upset in the crying way, not in the ‘I’m gonna make him regret it’ way.”

“Yeah, but she and Julian have so much chemistry! Like, actual chemistry. They don’t just wanna fuck each other’s brains out, you know?”

“Have you seen Julian? It’s impossible to not have chemistry with that man.”

Dorcas snorts, shaking her head softly, and Regulus smiles a little against the rim of his glass.

“Your crush on him needs to stop, Reg. We’re supposed to be criticising these people together, and you’re ruining it.”

Regulus arches an eyebrow, twisting his body enough so he can look at his friend. “I’m sorry, weren’t you the one clapping and cheering a couple of weeks ago when Lottie gave that speech after the party? And calling her ‘your girl’?”

“Well, she kinda is my girl,” Dorcas concedes, albeit reluctantly. “She’s the only one with some common sense this season, and you can’t deny it.”

“I guess.” Regulus shrugs, focusing on the television once again. “Although no one who chooses to participate in this stupid show has any actual common sense in my books.”

Dorcas lets out a loud huff, and she seems more than ready to protest, but then she pauses, and after a bit of silence, she hums quietly, unable to give a proper rebuttal. Regulus doesn’t even bother to hide his satisfied grin as he takes another gulp of wine.

“You have a point,” she murmurs, shifting in her seat until she’s half lying down on her side of the couch, stretching her legs all over Regulus’ lap and pretending she doesn’t see the glare he sends her way. Honestly, Dorcas is so lucky Regulus appreciates her so much.

“Of course I do,” he snarks, pinching her ankle teasingly and smiling a little at the yelp that escapes her.

“But,” Dorcas goes on very pointedly, and Regulus is already rolling his eyes before she has the chance to continue, “earning money just by spending a couple of months in what’s basically a mansion on a beautiful island kind of sounds like a dream. I think I’d do it for free.”

“Sure, but these people go there with their partners and genuinely believe not cheating on them is the truest proof of real love there is,” Regulus reminds her flatly, drinking the rest of his wine in one long sip. He eyes what’s left of the bottle a bit wistfully, but forces himself to drop the empty glass on the table and not reach for it again.

He’s already pleasantly tipsy, and more alcohol won’t do him any favours. No matter how much he wants it.

“I mean, not cheating kinda is proof of real love—” Dorcas mumbles quietly.

“Most of them can barely help themselves,” Regulus deadpans, not even bothering to spare Dorcas a glance. “And they act like staying loyal is this torturous, nearly impossible sacrifice—”

“Not all of them! Remember that couple from the third season? They never cheated and ended up getting engaged in the reunion—”

“—and half of the shit they do is cheating anyways, they just don’t think it counts if there’s no kissing or fucking involved,” Regulus finishes, raising his voice slightly. “Also, don’t you dare bring Lucy and Henry into this. They’re the exception.”

“That’s not true, there’s been others,” Dorcas argues, and Regulus isn’t surprised to find her frowning when he takes a peek at her face.

“Oh, yeah? Like who?”

“There was this one couple—” She stops herself, the frown worsening momentarily. “Okay, not them, but what about—fuck, not them either—”

Regulus snorts, and the sound comes out a bit derisive. “What are you even trying to achieve? The only reason we watch this show is to make fun of straight people.”

“I know, but I wanna make a point and you won’t let me,” she scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest but always being careful of not jostling her glass of wine too much.

“Fine.” Regulus lets out a long-suffering sigh, tilting his head back until it rests on the back of the couch. “Make your fucking point, then.”

“Thank you,” Dorcas responds sweetly, and it’s almost enough to drag another roll of his eyes. “My point is that, objectively, going on the show isn’t such an insane idea.”

Regulus blinks at the screen, where a party is currently going on—as if there’s not a party every single night on this fucking show—before he completely turns around, staring blankly at Dorcas and sort of waiting for the punchline.

It never comes.

In fact, Dorcas doesn’t even look away from the telly, wrinkling her nose when one of the girls sits on one of the blokes’ lap and they begin to make out shamelessly, everyone around them cheering as if it isn’t literal cheating.

“You’re drunk,” Regulus says, matter of factly, even though Dorcas has a high tolerance and a couple of glasses of wine do nothing to her.

“You are drunk,” she counters without missing a beat. “I’m just saying, it’s like a paid holiday with everything included, and you’re also making money.”

“Have you forgotten about the part in which you’re being recorded for the whole world to see? Or, I don’t know, all the bloody cheating?” Regulus scowls with a shake of his head. “We’ve watched this show ruin people’s lives about a hundred times—”

“And we’ve laughed during the entirety of it,” Dorcas points out drily, and, well, she isn’t wrong, but still, Regulus doesn’t appreciate the reminder. “We mock them and call them stupid and think ourselves so much superior to them—”

“I mean, we kinda are,” Regulus huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, a flush definitely darkening his cheeks. “The bar is basically in hell, Dorcas. These people make the worst decisions known to mankind and then cry about it, expecting us to feel sorry for them. Well, I’m sorry if I can’t sympathise, they brought this shit upon themselves—”

“Hey, you won’t see me deny it,” Dorcas interrupts him, raising both hands in mock surrender. “This show is fun because of the absolute lack of morals and how painfully straight it is—it makes mocking it a lot easier.”

“Then what the fuck are you trying to say?” Regulus is getting way too worked up over this, but he can’t help it when the wine is slowly but surely getting to his head. The absolute nonsense coming out of the mouths of the people on the telly is definitely not helping. “Because it’s like you just wanna piss me off—”

“What would you say,” Dorcas cuts him off, finally looking away from the telly and leaning towards Regulus, a mischievous glint in her dark eyes, “if I asked you to participate in the next season of Temptation Island with me?”

Regulus blinks one, two, three times, before a startled laugh slips past his lips, too loud and a little hysterical. He is, once again, waiting—hoping—for Dorcas to join him, to call him an idiot for even daring to believe she’d ever suggest something as outrageous as this. But she continues to stare at him expectantly, gaze never slipping away, not even when the noise coming out from the television turns momentarily louder.

“I’d say that you’ve lost your goddamn mind,” Regulus blurts out.

Dorcas is supposed to be the normal, more level-headed one out of the two of them, what the fuck?

“Okay, I hear you, and I get it, but listen to me—” she begins, moving even closer, until her hands are resting on his knees.

“I don’t think I want to,” Regulus grumbles, already feeling the start of the headache that is approaching.

“We’d be pretending to be a couple, obviously, since we’re both painfully gay,” Dorcas continues, as if she hasn’t heard him, or as if she can’t see the scowl twisting Regulus’ face. She can be such a cunt when she wants to. “And considering the next season isn’t gonna start recording until next year, we have more than enough time to begin posting couple-y stuff on Instagram. Then we just gotta apply and hope they choose us as one of the couples, which, let’s be honest, they probably will, I mean, look at us—”

“And why the fuck would we do that?” Regulus butts in, a disbelieving laugh slipping in between his words. “Huh? Why would we go to such lengths to participate in this mess of a show?”

“Um, because it’d be funny?” Dorcas replies flatly. “And you also get paid for it. Like, a shit ton of money, Reg. It’s basically like going on holiday, but better.”

Regulus’ mouth twists, but he can’t find it in himself to protest again. It’s not like Dorcas doesn’t have a point. “But we’d have to pretend to be together.”

“Barely. We’re gonna spend nearly two months away from each other. We just gotta sell it during the first few hours, act all clingy and kiss a few times—”

“Kiss!? On the mouth!?”

Dorcas chuckles, shaking her head gently. “Yes, kiss, and yes, on the mouth.” She sighs heavily, but the tiny smile curving her lips gives her away. “I don’t know why you’re acting so disgusted. It’s not like you haven’t dated girls before—”

“Yeah, when I was still living with my parents and playing the perfect little heir,” Regulus reminds her a bit sharply. “And that was traumatic enough for me, thank you very much.”

“C’mon, Reg, think about how entertaining it’d be,” Dorcas presses, beginning to sound a little petulant. Regulus arches an eyebrow at her. “We just gotta spend the next few months taking pics together and going out on fake dates, which is just gonna be us hanging out as usual, anyway, and then when they choose us for the show—”

“If they choose us for the show.”

Dorcas’ mouth twitches, but she manages to repress her grin before it can appear on her face. “Fine. If they choose us for the show we just have to pretend to be in love for a few hours, tops, and then spend the rest of our time there having fun. There won’t be any ‘cheating’ because, again, we’re gay, so it’d be just like a very fun holiday. A fun holiday that will make us considerably richer.”

Regulus groans. He’s starting to find it harder and harder to come up with arguments against this idea, apart from how insane it sounds to his own ears. And besides, it’s not like Regulus can deny how attractive the whole concept is, because he’d die for a little vacation, and he’s not dumb enough to say no to some extra money. He doesn’t miss a lot about his previous life, but he definitely misses being wealthy.

Sure, eat the rich, or whatever, but when you’ve spent all of your childhood and your teenage years being spoiled rotten, becoming a working class guy kind of sucks. Don’t get him wrong, Regulus values freedom and being able to actually be himself, but that doesn’t mean he’s an idiot, and it’s not like his job as a waiter pays that much. He’s lucky he has enough to afford a nice, little studio near the restaurant he works at.

“I don’t know, Cas…” Regulus rubs at his eyes furiously, exhaling loudly. “It sounds too good to be true. And also, I’m not sure I like the idea of being filmed the whole time for everyone to see and pick apart everything I say, or do.”

“I’ll admit it doesn’t sound great, but after a few days I bet you’d forget about all the cameras.”

“Except when a Bonfire happens. Or when they ask for an individual interview.”

“Okay, but there’s, like, a maximum of six Bonfires per season. And you’re always with the other participants—”

“Surprisingly, the idea of relying on the support a bunch of straight men can offer me isn’t very appealing,” Regulus deadpans, and somehow, it drags an amused smile out of Dorcas.

“C’mon, not all of them are that bad,” she murmurs, not sounding convincing in the slightest.

“Sure, but the ones that go to the show are definitely the worst.”

Dorcas laughs softly at that, and gives a tiny nod, because not even she can find a loophole in that statement, or a way to better the situation. “I’m not excited to be around straight girls whining about their boyfriends for nearly two months either, you know.”

“Then why are you even—”

“But that won’t stop me from enjoying my time on a beautiful island,” Dorcas finishes with a look. One of those looks that make Regulus want to huff and pout and avoid his friend’s knowing gaze.

“I suppose it does sound kind of nice,” he concedes, begrudgingly.

“So we’re doing it—”

“I never said that—”

“It was basically implied. You gave in—”

“No, I did not,” Regulus insists, narrowing his eyes. “I just said that it sounds nice—”

“And it’s gonna be even nicer when we actually experience it—”

“If we actually experience it, come on, Dorcas, we already talked about this—”

“Oh my god!” she yells all of a sudden, making Regulus jump and feel so grateful about the fact that he’s not holding a glass anymore. “Oh my fucking god, Reg!”

“What?” he snaps, disgruntled and confused and way too fucking irritated about this whole conversation. “What is it now?”

“It’s actually happening!” Dorcas continues to scream, eyes moving from Regulus’ face, to the telly, and then back to Regulus. She’s smiling so wide it’s beginning to creep him out. “Millie is—with Julian—and they’re really—just fucking look!”

Regulus frowns, but he listens, finally turning his head around and focusing on the screen once again. His jaw nearly falls to the fucking floor when he finally processes what he’s seeing.

“Holy shit, Dorcas,” he hisses, reaching out to clutch her arm, fingers digging in almost painfully while she tries to swat him off.

“I know! That’s my motherfucking girl!”

“She and Julian—god, I can’t believe it.” Regulus blinks a couple of times, before his whole expression scrunches up. “They’re really going at it.”

“Yeah,” Dorcas sighs dreamily. “I knew I could trust her.”

“I mean, even I could feel the tension—”

“Oh, don’t you dare,” Dorcas scoffs, pointing an accusatory finger at him but without ever averting her eyes away from the telly. “You kept saying that it wasn’t gonna happen and implying that I was being delusional—”

“I never said that—”

“It was implied!”

“No, it wasn’t!”

“Shut up! Just admit I was right and stop distracting me, I’m missing the whole moment.”

“What even is there to miss?” Regulus grumbles, a pout starting to pull at his lips. “Her tongue down his throat? Or all the grinding right in our faces?”

“You know what you signed up for with this show, Reg. We’ve seen way too many strangers fuck in there before. This is nothing.”

“Still. I’m happy for them, I truly am, but they could tone it down a little.”

“God, you can be such a prude sometimes—”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea you enjoyed watching random people make out so much—”

“Fuck off,” Dorcas hisses, glaring at the telly. “That’s not what this is about and you know it.”

“Really? Because you seem awfully invested.” Regulus raises both eyebrows, and casts a brief glance at his friend. Dorcas looks thoroughly annoyed, but all her focus seems to be on the show.

“As if you aren’t,” she scoffs with pursed lips. And then she adds, almost as an afterthought, “Prick.”

“Cunt,” he retorts without missing a beat.

Dorcas lets out a small gasp, flat and dry, and lacking any sincerity. “That’s no way to speak to your girlfriend.”

“Fake girlfriend,” Regulus corrects almost automatically. “And again, I haven’t actually agreed to that.”

Dorcas finally looks away from the telly, where Millie and Julian have stopped snogging each other’s faces off and are now bordering on what looks like an argument. She tilts her head to the right as she stares at Regulus, before the corners of her mouth curl up in half a smirk.

He can only squint at her.

“You will.” It’s all she responds, with a finality that fills Regulus with wariness.

Dorcas is never wrong, after all.

***

Regulus squirms in the annoyingly comfortable seat. He’s still a bit in disbelief, and he’s sure Dorcas can tell he’s barely repressing the urge to get on his feet and fucking bolt. Regulus thinks that’s why she’s been keeping him distracted, pointing at every single thing in the room and whispering about how expensive it all looks.

She’s right. Even the little ashtray right in front of him, resting on the golden coffee table, looks like it cost more than a year’s rent. Regulus is half-tempted to grab it and stash it at the bottom of Dorcas’ purse, which has him wrinkling his nose, because stealing is so very unbecoming, and pathetic, and really, when did he become this desperate? He wants to think it’s the nerves, but it sounds like a lie, even just as a concept inside his mind.

They haven’t been waiting for that long, maybe a bit over five minutes, but if no one appears in the next 30 seconds Regulus thinks he might just start screaming.

Just like she’s read his mind, Dorcas elbows him a bit too sharply on the side, and Regulus whips his head around to look at her, lips parted in offence and eyes already narrowing in a glare.

“Can you stop looking so freaked out?” Dorcas hisses, as if there’s anyone else to hear her inside the office. “They’re gonna think you’re here against your will.”

Regulus makes sure to retaliate before he replies, relishing in the little whine that escapes Dorcas’ lips. “I kinda am. You basically kidnapped me.”

She rolls her eyes, shifting until she’s sitting more comfortably on the leather couch, legs spread wide and head resting on the back of the seat.

“You’re so fucking dramatic,” Dorcas sighs, but she can’t repress her smile. The corners of her mouth have been permanently curled upwards all day. Maybe even weeks, ever since she got that stupid call and they gave her the good news.

Regulus wishes he could feel her excitement. Sure, he can understand why this would be a reason for joy, and celebration, and technically, he participated in making it happen, but the thing is, he never expected it to work. Perhaps even a part of him was counting on it not working.

“I’m not,” he mumbles, looking away, choosing to focus on something else, like the pretty dagger resting on the side of the wooden desk on the other side of the room, flowers engraved on its handle, that Regulus really hopes is fake.

“You so are.” Dorcas shakes her head softly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “We both planned this and made it happen—”

“Debatable,” Regulus grumbles, pouting slightly. “You came up with the whole thing, I was just there, sort of playing along—”

“Bullshit! You went out on all those dates with me!”

“They weren’t dates! We’re best friends, we hang out all the time—”

“Yeah, sure, that’s why we took couple pictures during all of them—”

“They can barely be called that. We’re just a bit more touchy in them—”

“Do I need to pull up my Instagram?” Dorcas inquires, tone full of snark and one of her eyebrows arched as she straightens up once again. “Because I fucking will.”

Regulus sighs, wrinkles appearing between his brows. “Please don’t. It’s been so fucking jarring, looking at it these past few months.”

Dorcas blinks, before her whole body sags, a hum escaping her lips. “I know what you mean. Although, it probably wouldn’t feel as weird if you also had an account. With me being the only one posting all these pics it feels like I’m obsessed with you, or something.”

“I think you might be,” Regulus says with a shrug and half a grin curving his lips. He receives a light punch on the shoulder for it, but it only serves to widen his smile. Definitely worth it. “And I do have an Instagram, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s private and you have, like, two posts,” Dorcas deadpans. “Not to mention, you don’t even feature in either of said posts.”

“It’s my account, I can do whatever the fuck I want with my account,” Regulus grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sure, but would it have killed you? To open your Instagram for a few months and post a handful of pictures with me?”

“Probably. The internet is a very dangerous place, Dorcas, and I value my privacy, unlike others.”

His friend scoffs, and Regulus is starting to feel like he should stop, or at least slow down a bit, before he genuinely annoys Dorcas and this whole conversation ends up becoming an actual argument. But his nerves keep getting the better of him; Regulus can feel a gentle buzz under his skin, like an itch, the urge to scratch, and tear, and break tucked at the back of his mind but still very much there.

Somehow, a fight sounds like the best way to get rid of the insufferable need to crawl out of his own body. Even though Regulus’ logical side knows better, and he’s very much aware that it’s never a good idea to start any kind of shit with Dorcas. They might be friends and love each other dearly, but Dorcas is ruthless when she’s crossed, in every sense of the word. Sure, she always holds back with him, but Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever won a fight against her regardless.

“You’re 23, Reg, I think you need to get over your fear of stranger danger,” Dorcas huffs out, voice considerably less playful.

“I’m just saying—”

“Well, don’t. Stop acting like you weren’t an active participant in this. You agreed and played your part, and you played it so good it all worked out in the end. We got what we wanted.”

Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, fingers twitching where they’re digging into his own biceps.

“What you wanted,” he corrects a bit sharply, and it drags a chuckle out of Dorcas that lacks any amusement.

“That’s funny,” she murmurs, “because if I remember correctly, you were hoping for this exact outcome every time we talked about it. Even when I checked on you, because I didn’t want you to feel forced, or uncomfortable, you said—”

“I know what I said,” Regulus grumbles. “I just—it all sounded really good in theory, but now—I guess I never expected it to actually happen.”

Dorcas lets out a heavy sigh, but Regulus is still too tense to dare take a peek at the expression she’s wearing. “That we can agree on, at least. I thought it was a scam when I got that first call.”

“Okay, so you also think this is insane?”

“What’s insane is that they still chose us even though you’re a weirdo who hasn’t even tried to pull his weight in this fake relationship.”

Regulus gasps, whirling around until he’s openly shooting daggers at his friend, mouth twisting into a sneer.

“Fuck off. I went to every single stupid date, and never said no to taking pictures, or videos, or posting you in my story—”

“But what’s even the point if your account is still private? If you don’t post anything about me?”

“I didn’t think it was that important, your account is there and everyone can see—” Regulus protests, kind of feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.

He might be, if he’s being honest, but he really doesn’t think Dorcas is right about this. Or, at least, not completely. But, then again, it’s very complicated to make a point against someone as stubborn as her, or when Regulus knows that he did fuck up to a degree, even if just a little.

It’s just. Regulus has never been fond of change. He stayed with his parents for so long because he was terrified of what was out there, of having to face it on his own. Because he had a routine, and had always been told what his life was going to look like so much he had internalised it. He couldn’t imagine anything else, and he knew that deep down, his parents loved him, even if never quite right.

When his brother had left, putting an end to everything Regulus knew, everything he found comfort in despite the pain, despite the grief, he had been terrified. So terrified he had lost it. He refused to pick up Sirius’ calls, refused to hear him out, and put all of himself in being the perfect son, the perfect heir. In making sure his life remained the same.

It never did. There was always a certain emptiness. A gap. Regulus could never be a worthy substitute for his big brother, and everyone at home knew. Even his parents, even Regulus himself. It didn’t stop him from trying, though. But in the end, the truth was simply too harsh to ignore.

Now, things are different. He isn’t a Black anymore, not in any way that matters, and he doesn’t have to pretend, or worry about image, or reputation, or an arranged marriage. He has Dorcas, and a few coworkers he kind of considers his friends, and a small, messy place that actually feels like home.

And yet, despite all the courage it took to choose himself in the end, to leave, to ruin every plan his parents had for him, to destroy that perfect and familiar life he used to find so satisfying, Regulus is still a coward. Dorcas always says that he’s the master of his own destiny now, that she’s proud of him and he’s one of the bravest people she knows.

It isn’t true, though. Things haven’t changed as much as he’d like to believe. He still hides in a routine, doesn’t even dream of breaking it outside of going clubbing every couple of months, or taking a little vacation during the summer. Regulus likes his stability, likes having everything under control.

There’s a reason why, even after all these years, he’s never had any dreams. Never hoped for anything better than a shitty job that pays just enough to keep him barely above water.

Except he’s here, now. In an elegant office, waiting to sign a contract to become part of the most popular reality show in England in the last decade. Having to pretend to be in a long-term relationship with his best friend for the cameras, even though said friend is a girl and he’s gay.

Regulus is aware that he has a penchant for dramatics, it runs in the family, but he doesn’t think he’s exaggerating when it comes to this specific situation. In fact, he’s convinced that he has a right to be fucking terrified.

“Relationships aren’t supposed to be one-sided, Reg,” Dorcas hisses, her jaw clenched and eyes slightly squinted. “It’s hard to catch the show’s attention when you aren’t an influencer, or mildly famous, so you being this difficult for no reason didn’t bloody help.”

“I mean, we’re here anyway, so I suppose I must’ve done something right—” Regulus spits back, raising his chin a little.

“Yeah, we’re here, but definitely not thanks to you,” she scoffs, and it makes Regulus scowl. “I still don’t get how we managed to pull it off, but we did, and I don’t understand why you’d try to ruin it all of a sudden—”

“I’m not trying to ruin anything!” Regulus snaps, probably raising his voice more than he should, in a place like this. “I’m just—it’s a lot to take in! And neither of us really thought—”

“No, we didn’t think, but I at least wanted—”

The door opens, and Regulus’ rebuttal dies at the tip of his tongue as he swivels around, the beating of his heart quickening momentarily before it returns to a safer pace. He isn’t sure if it was the noise that startled him, or the fact that if there ever was a chance to run away, it’s gone now.

Regulus watches Pandora Rosier step into the room with her shoulders back and a winning smile, and he gulps, blinking repeatedly while his eyes follow every movement of the host of what’s been his favourite show for the past three years.

Well, ‘favourite’ might be a bit of a stretch, considering how much Regulus also despises it, but he doesn’t think he has a more accurate adjective, and he has, after all, seen every single season—some of them more than once—so it’ll have to do.

Pandora looks even prettier in person, but she also looks sharper. Colder. More dangerous.

Regulus has always thought that the fact that a lesbian is the one hosting such an awfully straight show is more than a little ironic, but Pandora has always been perfect for the role. She always remains professional and keeps her cool, but she also has a sense of humour, even if it can be a bit dark at times, and even the most hated participants each season end up growing fond of her. There’s not a single person who doesn’t respect her, and she’s one of Regulus and Dorcas’ favourite parts of Temptation Island.

He believes Dorcas used to have a crush on her when she first discovered the show, and if the way she’s staring at her now is anything to go by, she might still have it.

Not like Regulus blames her. He’d probably be into her, too, if he had any interest in women. But considering why they’re here in the first place, he can’t do anything else but slide closer to Dorcas, wrap an arm around her waist and pinch the skin of her hip discreetly.

She jumps a little, but catches on quickly enough to cover it with a cough as she leans into Regulus’ side. Her expression relaxes into a grin, and Regulus rushes to follow suit, even though his looks a lot more polite, and considerably less excited.

Pandora sits behind the big, imposing desk, her brown eyes never leaving either of them. She leans forward, moving until her elbows rest on the wooden surface and her chin is being supported by her interlaced hands. There’s a certain glint in her gaze as she takes them both in, and Regulus straightens up almost unconsciously, feeling like he’s being analysed under a microscope, every reaction being categorised and stored away for future reference.

It makes him uneasy, and yet, he finds himself unable to look away from her.

“Sorry for making you wait,” Pandora says, and her voice sounds even smoother in real life, sort of melodic. Regulus can understand how she has every participant of the show confessing all their sins by the second week. He thinks he’d tell her anything if she kept talking to him that softly, that carefully. “One of the producers called me a bit last minute, and we got carried away.”

“It’s okay, we get it,” Dorcas rushes to respond, shaking her head a couple times. He doesn’t think she’s blinked since Pandora stepped foot in the room. “It wasn’t even that long.”

“Yeah, and we know you’re a very busy woman,” Regulus adds, seeing Dorcas nod a bit more furiously by the corner of his eye. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, by the way.”

“Yes,” Dorcas jumps in without missing a beat, pressing even closer to Regulus. “Oh my god, me and Reg are such fans—”

Pandora laughs a little, and it’s so sweet it borders on a giggle. The sound isn’t mocking, or derisive; it’s genuine, and pleased, and it manages to turn Regulus’ smile into something more relaxed.

“Thank you, truly,” Pandora says, tucking a few strands of blonde, nearly white hair behind her ear. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the least interesting part of the show, and for good reason, I suppose, but it’s always nice to be appreciated.”

“Oh, not at all, Temptation Island wouldn’t be the same without you,” Dorcas retorts in earnest. Regulus wishes he could make fun of her, but it’s not like he disagrees. He doesn’t exactly share Dorcas’ hero worship, or her little crush, but he does admire Pandora Rosier, to a degree.

Regulus’ never been one to be interested in the life of celebrities, which may be why he also doesn’t enjoy social media, but he quite likes all he knows about Pandora.

“They couldn’t have chosen a better host,” Regulus agrees, and he isn’t even trying to butter her up, or gain her favour. He came here ready to bring out the charm and every lesson his parents gave him on manners and proper socialisation, but he isn’t even making an actual effort.

“Oh, stop it, you flatterers,” Pandora huffs out, amused and visibly delighted, waving her hand around in feigned embarrassment. “I’d much rather talk about you two. You make such a gorgeous couple.”

Regulus can feel some heat climbing up his neck, and it’s mostly due to embarrassment, but it works wonders, and the little giggle Dorcas lets out helps to paint the perfect picture. The sound is so unlike her that Regulus simply cannot take it seriously, but Pandora doesn’t know that, and Dorcas’ acting skills are surprisingly decent.

“Thank you,” Dorcas says, moving her hand until it’s curling around Regulus’ knee. He’s just grateful for how comfortable he is with Dorcas’ touch, or this whole farce would be even more painful, and for entirely different reasons. “I like to think I have great taste.”

Regulus barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. “We definitely have that in common,” he comments, glancing at her with a small smile that she makes sure to reciprocate.

Pandora grins widely at them, somehow seeming to lean even further, encouraged by her loving display. “So sweet,” she sighs. “I know you guys will talk about it once we start filming, but how did you two meet?”

“It was four years ago, back when we both worked at the same pub,” Dorcas responds without faltering. They’ve been waiting for this. They’ve come up with a believable enough story, sprinkled with the truth, and repeated it to each other until they could practically recite it backwards. “I had recently been made supervisor, so I was in charge of training Reg and a couple more people that had just been hired. We immediately hit it off, which was unusual for me, and completely new to Reg, who barely spoke to the rest of the staff unless it was absolutely necessary.”

As if on cue, Pandora laughs quietly, exactly like he and Dorcas expected she would, and Regulus feels his friend squeeze his knee tightly before resuming her story.

“Anyways, we became best friends after the first couple of months. We hung out in and outside of work, and we stayed in touch even when I found something better and quit. I’m pretty sure I was the only person Regulus spoke to apart from customers and coworkers.”

Regulus scoffs loudly, maybe a little too dramatic, but Dorcas chuckles good-naturedly, before nuzzling into his neck. He glances down at her, and the soft grin that appears on his lips isn’t forced, or fake.

“Rude,” he mumbles lightly, still smiling. “She isn’t wrong, though. I’ve never been a people person.”

“Understatement of the century,” Dorcas grumbles under her breath. Regulus pinches her hip in retaliation, but it barely makes her jolt, snorting in the process.

“Anyways, we spent all of our free time together,” Regulus continues, taking over their little tale, because as Dorcas explained every time they practised, she can’t seem like she’s the only one involved. “She was my favourite person in the world, and you have to understand, that’s a pretty big deal for someone who isn’t very fond of others. I think that’s also why it took me a while to realise that my feelings weren’t exactly platonic.”

“I basically had to spell it out for him,” Dorcas butts in, her hand leaving Regulus’ leg just so he can poke at his cheek. Regulus swats her fingers playfully and she blows him a cheeky kiss. “Had a bit of a breakdown, this one, was terrified of ruining our friendship, but I made him see reason, and we’ve been inseparable since. More than we already were, I mean.”

“And I’m forever grateful,” Regulus finishes, looking at her friend with all the love he has for her, which may not be romantic in the slightest, but it is sincere, and strong, and unconditional.

Dorcas interlaces their hands, and Regulus doesn’t hesitate to bring them both to his mouth, dropping a lingering kiss on the back of Dorcas’. He doesn’t miss the amusement dancing in her gaze, and has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his laughter at bay.

Pandora sighs all wistfully, capturing their attention, and it’s sort of comical, the way in which they both turn their heads at the same time. Regulus thinks it’s a good thing that they’re so close, that they’ve gotten to know each other so well after all these years.

They’re in sync. They’ve been in sync almost since they met. Regulus has never been one to believe in cheesy shit like soulmates, but Dorcas might be the closest he’s ever gotten to having one.

“You guys are so adorable,” Pandora says, not even blinking once as she watches them. “Everyone is a sucker for a sweet love story, but even more when it’s found in the mundane. People are gonna adore you.”

Dorcas smiles brightly at her, before redirecting that same gesture at Regulus, eyes crinkling at the corners. He does his best to reciprocate, but the reminder of what all this entails, the presence of an audience, makes his stomach churn.

“A few of my associates weren’t sure about my decision, considering you’re the last couple that got chosen for this season and they were all feeling extra picky,” Pandora goes on, shaking her head softly. “But after meeting you both and hearing your story, I know I did the right thing.”

“Really?” Dorcas asks quietly, a bit in awe, and Regulus definitely gets the feeling, although maybe not for the same reasons.

“Really,” Pandora confirms.

“I have to admit, we were also a bit surprised when the show got in contact with us,” Dorcas confesses, lowering her head slightly. “And this isn’t to say we’re ungrateful, it’s just—the people who usually participate in Temptation Island are a bit… different, I guess.”

“You mean they’re mildly well-known and tend to come from money,” Pandora states, her smile not dimming in the slightest.

Dorcas nods, and Regulus tightens the grip he has on her.

“That’s true,” Pandora concedes with a tilt of her head. “My job, apart from hosting the show, is to make sure that people watch it. That the ratings are as high as possible, and that we end each season considerably richer than we started it. One of the easiest ways to accomplish that is selecting participants that people already know and care about.”

“Because it assures you an audience, and then you can grow from there,” Regulus says, tone soft.

“Exactly. But to be fair, we’ve become popular enough, and it’s not really necessary anymore. It’s a formula that works, though, and an easy one at that, so we do tend to follow it.”

“Why us, then?” Regulus arches an eyebrow, and pointedly ignores the way Dorcas nails dig painfully into his leg.

“Why not?” Pandora retorts with a little shrug, her grin becoming wry. “I enjoy keeping my viewers on their toes. And I feel like you may be a bit of a grounding presence for a lot of these people.”

Dorcas tilts her head enough to glance at Regulus, and he returns the look. They both blink at each other, before giving their attention to Pandora once again.

“And,” she goes on, seemingly amused by their synchronicity. Or maybe it’s just by the disbelief in both their eyes, “you’re a very hot couple. That always sells incredibly well.”

Regulus flushes slightly, never one to accept compliments, especially the ones about his physical appearance. Perhaps it’s because he’s spent his whole life being second to his brother, always the less attractive Black, the less intelligent, the less important. But even after all these years, he can only duck his head as warmth fills his cheeks, silently envying the way in which Dorcas seems to bloom under the words, perking up a little and mouth curling upwards.

“Who’s the flatterer now?” Dorcas comments, voice going playful, and Pandora laughs, shaking her head. “Thank you, though. I’m happy to hear we’ll be able to make you some money.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll make me more than some money,” Pandora responds, and she sounds so sure Regulus is inclined to believe her. “Speaking of, it might be time to talk business.”

He raises his head back up at that, and he feels Dorcas tense a bit, shoulders stiffening as she appears to sit a little straighter.

As if on cue, and before either of them get the chance to ask, the door opens behind them, and Regulus and Dorcas turn around just in time to see Evan Rosier step into the room. He’s eerily quiet and stealthy, and Regulus doesn’t think he would’ve noticed him if he hadn’t been looking.

He approaches the couch where they’re sitting and gives them both a thin binder. Regulus barely gets a peek at his face before he’s turning away from him, all his focus on his sister, but he does catch the brown, empty eyes, the long dark lashes and the freckles covering his brown skin, scattered all over the bridge of his nose. The similarities are right there, from the shape of their faces to the nearly white of their hairs, but they seem to stop at their appearance.

It’s not like Regulus has never seen Evan Rosier; everyone knows he works alongside his sister, and they both have spent years on this ridiculous show, helping to make it as popular as it is now. But Evan has never been as fond of the spotlight as Pandora is. He refuses to host and has barely given any interviews, not to mention, the few he’s done were always in company of his sister. Regulus had always thought it was due to a personal preference, but after meeting him in person, he wonders if there might be more to it.

There’s something odd about Evan. Regulus can’t put his finger on it, but he’s a bit unnerved about his presence in the room, about the lack of emotion in his expression. Pandora is so kind, and open, and sweet, he has a hard time understanding how these two grew up together.

“Thank you, Ev,” Pandora murmurs with a soft smile. Her gaze is filled with affection as she regards her brother. “I’ll be done soon, and I’ll meet you in your office, okay?”

Evan just gives her a curt nod, before turning around and heading straight towards the exit. He leaves the room without saying goodbye, closing the door gently behind him.

Regulus has so many questions, but all the good manners his family instilled into him prevent him from opening his mouth, swallowing down his curiosity. Instead, he opens the binder, not surprised to realise it contains the contract to officially become a participant of the new season of Temptation Island.

He searches for Dorcas’ gaze, just to find it firmly set on the contract, reading every document attentively while some wrinkles begin to appear between Dorcas’ eyebrows.

She still hasn’t looked up when Pandora rises from her seat, running a hand through her long, platinum hair, as if it isn’t perfectly brushed, not a single strand out of place.

“I recommend sitting down and reading through the contract thoroughly, at least a couple of times,” she says with a smile, and this time, it looks less honest and more performative. Somewhat forced. “If you have a lawyer, ask them to also look over it, just in case. I want you to be completely sure before you sign it.”

Regulus frowns at her, clutching the binder a bit too tight between his fingers, but Pandora’s smile doesn’t falter. She blinks down at him, and then she begins to make her way towards the door, heels clicking rhythmically against the marble floor.

Dorcas laughs a bit drily, the noise stopping Pandora in her tracks just when her hand wraps around the handle. She cocks her head back, looking at Dorcas silently, her grin falling slightly.

“You’re not making it sound very appealing,” Dorcas mutters, and Regulus is sure she’s trying to make it sound like a joke, lighthearted, but she doesn’t quite succeed. “Is this supposed to be some kind of warning?”

Pandora exhales softly through her nose, but she goes back to grinning widely. Regulus thinks he can recognise some degree of condescension in the gesture, but it’s gone a second later, so there’s a possibility he imagined it.

He really doesn’t think he did, though.

“Of course not,” Pandora snorts, waving one of her hands around, and Regulus fixates on her long nails, painted a deep crimson. “But it’s a show that puts its participants under a lot of stress and emotional duress. I’d hate for any of you to regret this experience, or not be able to enjoy it to the fullest.”

“I thought it was just supposed to be like a vacation,” Regulus counters drily.

“I mean, it basically is.” Pandora shrugs, toying with the handle briefly before finally opening the door. “As long as you have faith in each other and remain loyal then there shouldn’t be any problems.”

Dorcas reaches out for him, grabbing one of his hands and interlacing their fingers firmly, her jaw set. “I’d trust Reg with my life.”

Pandora raises both eyebrows. “That’s good to hear. In that case, I’m sure you’d have lots of fun,” she murmurs, half of her body already outside of the room. “But remember that this is all being televised. There are cameras everywhere, and you’re forced to coexist with a bunch of strangers in close proximity for over a month. Every second of your day is recorded and exposed for everyone to see and judge. Not everyone can deal with that sort of pressure.”

Regulus squirms in his seat as he swallows thickly, his stomach lurching and making him feel slightly nauseous. He has to make an active effort to not drop the binder he’s still holding, to not throw it against the opposite wall.

He knew this was a bad idea. He’s always known this was a bad idea.

“Let me know your final decision whenever you’re ready, but don’t forget that I have a deadline, and it’s in a couple of weeks, so do take that into consideration,” Pandora continues, going back to her cheerful, energetic self. “I trust you’ll be able to see yourselves out! See you soon, guys, I look forward to hearing from you both!”

With that, she slips away, keeping the door ajar, the noise of her receding steps the only thing she leaves behind. That, and two confused, incredibly appalled individuals, who can do nothing else apart from stare at each other helplessly.

“What the fuck?” Regulus hisses, dropping the binder on the floor, cringing at the sound it makes when it hits the floor.

“My thoughts exactly,” Dorcas answers in a sigh, sagging against the back of the couch, hands coming up to cover her eyes.

Because yeah, really. What the fuck?

***

“Reg, we really don’t have to do this. I know I pressured you a lot, and we did spend a lot of months constructing this whole facade, but who gives a fuck? It’s not like it was a chore, we had a lot of fun, and this whole thing is, it’s fucking bullshit—”

“Dorcas,” Regulus cuts her off, albeit not unkindly. “It’s fine. I said we’d do it, and we will.”

“I know, but I have a feeling you’re just agreeing for my sake.” She rubs furiously at her eyes, and when she finally puts her hands away from her face, she looks tired.

“I mean, you’ve been very excited about it—”

“I’m aware. But we’ve also been arguing a lot more than usual because of this, and you’ve been overthinking it and—you’re always gonna be more important to me, Reg. More than this show and more than anything else, really.”

Regulus rolls his lower lip between his teeth, looking away from his friend momentarily. He isn’t sure of what his face is doing right now, but it feels a bit too vulnerable, and he’s always had a hard time having other people witness instances of weakness. Even if it’s Dorcas, who definitely isn’t ‘other people’.

He shakes his head once, and then a second time, faster and more violently. When he turns his head and his eyes meet Dorcas’ once again, there’s nothing but determination in the set of his jaw, in the firm press of his mouth.

“No, let’s do it,” he states, surprised but pleased about the fact that his voice doesn’t waver. “Let’s go do that stupid show.”

Dorcas doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, her eyes sliding towards the coffee table next to them, focus lingering on both their contracts before it returns to Regulus.

“Reg,” she begins with a sigh.

“I mean it, Cas,” Regulus cuts her off, already knowing too well what she was about to say. “You know I don’t do shit I don’t want to do. Not anymore. I left that part of me at my parents’ house, and I have no intention of taking it back.”

Her gaze softens considerably, but she still appears to be hesitant. Concerned. “I know, I know, but I just—I don’t want you to have a hard time, or not enjoy yourself, because of one of my whims—”

“Oh, shut up, I also got excited about the possibility of a paid holiday and the extra money.” Regulus rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “And come on, it’s not like you have that much power over me, don’t flatter yourself.”

The corners of her mouth twitch, and even though it never completely forms a smile, Regulus still counts it as a victory.

“I wanna do this,” Regulus goes on, after the silence stretches for a bit too long. “I wanna do this with you.”

Dorcas takes a deep breath. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure. I can’t think of anything better than spending more than a month on a beautiful island and fooling, at least, half the country with my best friend.”

That finally manages to drag a tiny laugh out of Dorcas. It’s a weak, shaky sound, but it still makes Regulus smile.

She doesn’t add anything else after that, but it isn’t necessary. She reaches out, until her fingers curl around two of the many pens they have scattered all over the table, and offers one to Regulus.

He gives her a little nod before accepting the pen that she reciprocates. And then, they both turn around to stare at their respective contracts nearly at the same time.

They sign.

***

Regulus can’t believe they’re really here.

He can see the dozen cameras surrounding them, how at least half of them never remain completely still, always following their movements, ready to capture even the most miniscule of shifts. He can feel the microphone attached to the edge of his trousers whenever he squirms, and it’s been driving him mad enough that he’s paranoid even about breathing a bit too loudly, despite being aware that that’s not how it works.

Hell, the fact that he’s standing on the shore of one of the loveliest beaches he’s ever been to, arms wrapped tightly around Dorcas’ waist, should be sufficient to make him realise that this is, in fact, happening. It’s been a couple of hours already, and he’s given a few private interviews with Dorcas—he’s seen the show enough times to know how they’re going to be edited and the way only some fragments of them will be included in between their arrival at the island and the official start of the season.

But to be fair, the 9-hour flight left him feeling more than a little numb. He spent the journey dozing off, never completely certain of if he was awake or just dreaming. Regulus has never been a fan of planes, which results in him having to take pills to stay calm, especially on such long flights. He thinks Dorcas tried to start a conversation with him at some point, but he can only guess she gave up quickly, considering how out of it he had been.

Nevertheless, and despite how much of a hard time processing the situation Regulus is having, they are, indeed, here. And he knows that he should probably pay attention, listen to Pandora’s welcoming speech—even though he probably knows it by heart at this point—and maybe watch the other couples. Try and get some idea of the kind of people they are. The level of sincerity behind their words, and behind every promise filled with love.

Unfortunately, all that Regulus seems capable of doing right now is. Stare ahead. Be hyper-aware of how unstable the sand feels under his feet. Press the tips of his fingers into Dorcas’ warm skin and hope it’ll be enough to keep him tethered, stop the current from dragging him away.

He’s aware that it might be a bit too late for regrets, but that doesn’t prevent his mind from urging him to get the fuck away from this.

Except, he can’t. Except, the only option he has is to take it. And it may be a bit soon to begin panicking, considering he hasn’t even arrived at the house yet, but he hasn’t been so outside his comfort zone in a while.

The last time was when he finally left his parents. And considering his first few months of freedom were marked by semi-regular breakdowns, Regulus isn’t looking forward to what might be in store for him these next few weeks.

“—able to make the most out of this experience,” Pandora is saying, but her voice, as well as her words, reach Regulus muffled. Thank god he isn’t new to what she’s been explaining, otherwise he’d be in trouble. “With all that out of the way, I’m afraid it’s time for you to say goodbye to your partners.”

Someone begins sobbing nearly immediately, and for some reason, that’s what manages to pull Regulus out of his trance, all the noise around him raising in volume as he physically cringes.

He blinks a few times, disoriented, fingers twitching against Dorcas’ exposed waist, and Regulus leans forward, in search of the source of all that crying. Most of the women seem to be getting a bit teary-eyed, and even a few of the men, but there’s one girl, with short black hair, wailing like her heart is being ripped out of her chest. Her round cheeks are covered in tears, and she’s desperately clutching the shirt of who Regulus assumes is her boyfriend.

If this were his first time experiencing the show, he’d bet this is the one couple that will come out of the season together, and come back for the reunion announcing they’re engaged. But he’s been following Temptation Island for literal years, and he knows how deceitful appearances can be. Especially when it comes to a program that’s so lacking in morality.

Regulus doesn’t get to watch the pair for long, though, because all of a sudden, Dorcas is in his field of vision, eyes wide, and concerningly shiny. She’s throwing herself at him a second later.

He grunts at the impact, taking a step back to stabilise himself, but Regulus hugs her back without a second thought, hiding his face in her thick braids and inhaling her familiar scent, a sweet, honeyed smell filling his senses.

Dorcas finds refuge in the crook of his neck, her arms wrapped around the small of his back and gripping onto it with what can only be described as desperation.

“If you wanna leave at any moment, then we leave,” Dorcas murmurs, and Regulus squeezes her even tighter. “I won’t be mad. I just want you to be okay.”

“Same goes to you,” Regulus mumbles against her hair, his eyes shut. “Promise me you’ll have fun, though. I don’t want you worrying about me. I can handle myself, yeah?”

“I’m gonna worry anyway,” she grumbles, and Regulus smiles fondly, shaking his head a little. “But I will have fun. And you better enjoy yourself too. If I watch you being all broody and moody in a corner during the Bonfires, I swear I’ll hunt you down.”

He laughs, the sound a bit strained, but he nods a couple times, and he can feel her dropping a fleeting kiss on his collarbone.

“Duly noted,” he retorts, tone an odd mix between amused and heartbroken. “I’ll keep my brooding to a minimum, just for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Dorcas breaks their embrace, moving away so she can look him in the eye. However, she barely puts any distance between them, Regulus’ arms still wrapped securely around her. She cups his face in her palms. “I’m gonna miss you so much, Reg.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, all choked up, his vocal chords becoming all tangled up until he can barely swallow properly. “Yeah, me too. So fucking much, Cas.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and Regulus can’t tell how much of it is acting and how much of it is genuine. She isn’t the emotional type, and Regulus hasn’t seen her cry that often, but then again, these are very special circumstances.

The sight of it, real or not, is nearly enough to make him break down.

“Take care,” Dorcas says, smiling wetly. “It’ll be over before you realise it.”

Regulus nods, not trusting his voice.

“I love you,” she adds.

Regulus grins very shakily. “And I love you.”

He isn’t used to saying those words, not even after so many years of being away from his family, of being himself and experiencing proper affection. They still taste a bit odd in his tongue, because his parents weren’t prone to uttering them, and Regulus only ever said them to his brother. And that didn’t happen often, either, and it stopped completely a year or so before Sirius left.

With Dorcas, though? No matter how hard, or even uncomfortable, it feels to form them in his mind, to allow them to get out, he never hesitates, never second-guesses himself. She’s his best friend. Regulus doesn’t have any doubts that he loves her. And Regulus refuses to let her believe, even for an instant, that her affection isn’t reciprocated.

She smiles even wider, showing teeth, and then she’s getting on her tiptoes as her hands slide behind Regulus’ head, burying themselves in his curls and pushing him down.

Regulus doesn’t understand what’s going on until Dorcas’ mouth is covering his.

It’s weird. It’s weird, and a bit uncomfortable, and just plain wrong. But it’s Dorcas, and Regulus inherently trusts Dorcas, so he pushes every rational thought aside and forces himself to melt into the kiss. He can only hope that his emotions aren’t showing on his face, and that everyone watching is convinced of their romance.

They talked about this more than once, during the months that preceded the start of the shooting. They didn’t practise, however, probably because they both wanted to delay the inevitable as much as possible. They did discuss boundaries, though, and Regulus knew this was bound to happen in the first few hours of the show. It’s the only time they’re going to spend together, after all. They need to sell their relationship, and they need to sell it well.

Maybe that’s why Dorcas slips her tongue past his lips after a bit of them kissing languidly. Regulus manages not to jump, or move away, and really, even he’s surprised by his own self-control. Instead, and very careful to keep his whole face from scrunching up, he plays along, pressing closer to Dorcas and allowing their tongues to tangle.

Fortunately, it doesn’t go on for too long, with Dorcas being the first one to break the kiss. She’s grinning happily at him afterwards, but Regulus catches a certain stiffness around her frame.

Regulus didn’t hate it, exactly, because it was with his best friend, and consensual, to a degree. But he’s way too gay for this. And maybe it’s a bit mean on his part, but he’s kind of glad he won’t have to go through this experience with Dorcas, because he doesn’t think he’d be able to deal with regular makeout sessions.

Pretending to be straight is already bad enough, and that’s coming from someone who spent most of his teenage years repressed, and then pointedly ignoring that side of him to keep his parents content.

“Time’s up!” Pandora exclaims with a little, excited clap. It startles Regulus, which Dorcas giggles at. “I’m sorry to do this, but rules are rules, and we really need to go.”

The cries become even louder, and Regulus catches bits and pieces of pleads and love oaths and promises to stay loyal that he’s certain will be broken in the first half of the season. He and Dorcas share a look, both their lips pursed to stop their twin grins from spreading, before Regulus leans down and pecks her sweetly on the mouth.

Dorcas chuckles into it, and then she’s playfully pushing him away. Regulus raises his hands up in mock surrender, and after giving her one last quirk of his lips, he turns around, making his way towards the rest of the men. Most of them are still holding onto their girlfriends, prolonging their goodbyes, but two of them are already waiting next to Evan Rosier, waiting to be led up to the house.

He’s, of course, out of the frame. Regulus glances at him curiously, but when their gazes meet and goosebumps break into his skin, he has no other option but to avert his eyes. Evan’s face is so empty it’s unnerving, and it’s the last thing Regulus needs right now, considering how difficult keeping his cool is proving to be.

“Boys, this is your last warning,” Pandora urges them, and she still sounds mostly kind, but there’s a certain harshness in her tone now. It demands obedience.

That does the trick. The men finally disentangle themselves from their girlfriends, albeit a bit reluctantly, and rush to join the group by Evan. They keep looking back, watching their partners like kicked puppies, blowing them kisses and yelling about how much they love them. Regulus wants to roll his eyes so hard at the sight it physically pains him.

After the majority of the dramatics are over and Evan nods curtly at his sister, they all get going, always maintaining a certain distance from the blonde, walking a handful of steps behind.

None of them talk much during the journey, although, to be fair, it’s not like it’s a very long one. He doesn’t think they take more than fifteen minutes to reach the massive beach house, and all of them seem way too in awe with their surroundings to engage in inane small talk.

They’re going to be living together for the next few weeks. There’s no rush in getting to know each other.

Regulus definitely prefers the quiet. He’s a bit fascinated with the impossibly tall palm trees, with the colourful flowers spread all over the ground, with how vibrant and untouched it all looks. He’s never been a big fan of coastal landscapes, mostly because he burns easily and he isn’t the best swimmer, but he’s a bit in love with the island already.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to join the show, if only because he gets to witness such natural beauty firsthand.

Once they step inside the house, Evan explains where each of their rooms are located, informing them that all the stuff they brought is already inside, waiting to be unpacked. He talks about what they’re supposed to expect, the schedules, and a couple of rules that Regulus is quite familiar with. Still, he listens attentively, just in case. And also because, despite initial impressions, it turns out that Evan’s voice is as smooth and charming as his sister’s. There’s no inflection in half the things he says, but it feels somewhat soothing, to hear him speak.

He leaves not too long after, murmuring something about how Pandora will be coming to check on them in the next couple of hours.

And just like that, the five of them are standing in the middle of the living room. A bunch of strangers staring helplessly at each other, unsure of how to break the awkward silence that Evan left in his wake.

Regulus is considering sputtering some excuse about wanting to unpack as soon as possible, maybe even lie down for a bit, when one of the guys steps forward and amicably introduces himself.

Before he has the chance to process it, they’re all greeting each other as if they’re old friends who haven’t seen each other in a while, patting backs and bumping fists and shaking hands.

Regulus watches in mild confusion, blinking repeatedly and doing his best to absorb as much information as he can. Or at least, memorise all of the names, and the faces they belong to.

There’s Kingsley Shacklebolt, with his kind smile, always showing all his teeth, and wide shoulders. His girlfriend is called Sybill, and they’ve been together for about three years now. He’s here because they both used to have insane commitment issues, and apparently, things have been a bit strained between them lately.

Peter Pettigrew is a fat bloke with golden hair and nervous blue eyes. He’s pretty and sweet and considerably quieter than the rest of them, which Regulus immediately takes a liking to. He’s been with his girlfriend, Mary, for four years and a half, and the reason why they decided to come to the show is that he’s been thinking of marriage, but Mary doesn’t know if she’s ready to settle down just yet.

Frank Longbottom is the boyfriend of the girl who had been crying her eyes out, who Regulus now learns is named Alice. He’s big and soft and looks like the kind of guy who would’ve made teen Regulus realise a couple of things about himself a lot sooner than he had done, with his dark hair and deep voice. He tells them about how Alice emotionally cheated at the beginning of their relationship, and how he also hooked up with someone during their week-long break.

And finally, there’s James Potter. He wears golden-rimmed glasses, has dimples, and a crooked nose, and the messiest hair Regulus has ever seen in his life. He’s funny and a charmer and everyone seems to warm up to him almost immediately. He and Lily, his girlfriend of five years, are happily in love and thinking of getting engaged after the show is over. This is just a brief stop in their perfect little life, a mere test before they take the big step. A test that no one doubts they’ll pass with flying colours.

Regulus wishes he could be more judgemental about the whole thing, because he knows the type of couple James and Lily are, and they shouldn’t be on this show in the first place. They’re going to be boring, and cliché, and annoyingly emotional. They’ll come out of the experience together, hand in hand, and probably announce that they’re expecting their first baby by the time the reunion rolls in.

But he can’t, or at least not completely, because James Potter is offensively hot.

Yes, all of the men in the room are quite attractive, because Temptation Island doesn’t do mediocrity, but James seems to be on a whole other level. Or maybe it’s just that he’s Regulus’ type personified, and he’s witty, and works as a physiotherapist, and has big strong arms, and warm brown skin, and a bit of a stubble Regulus bets would feel heavenly against the inside of his thighs—

“You okay over there?” James asks, and Regulus takes longer than he should to realise he’s the one being talked to. “You’re the only one who hasn’t introduced himself yet.”

Regulus blinks slowly, his brain overheating and struggling to process the information quickly enough. Everyone is suddenly looking at him, expectant and curious, and he swallows, barely able to repress the sudden urge to puke his fucking guts out.

He swallows thickly, before raising his chin a little and forcing himself to meet James’ gaze head on.

There’s nothing intimidating about his wide, hazel eyes. Quite the opposite, really. They’re honest and affectionate. Trusting. Infuriatingly lovely. And yet, Regulus feels the strange need to cower from them.

“I’m Regulus,” he introduces himself, but refrains from offering his hand, not sure if he could handle contact of any kind so soon. “My—my girlfriend, Dorcas, and I have been together for a couple of years now, but we were friends long before that. Best friends, in fact. She’s my… person, I guess.” Regulus lowers his head a little, feeling a bit flustered all of a sudden, especially after he hears someone coo. “We’ve been fans of the show for a while, and since we wanna start taking this whole relationship seriously, we—we thought that we could give it a try?”

He hates how hesitant he sounds. How unsure. He can barely ignore the insistent urge to cringe, because despite how much he and Dorcas talked about their story, practised again and again to make sure they got it right and no one would suspect a thing, it feels different, having to actually play the role under such intense scrutiny.

It’s just a bunch of men. Insignificant and uninteresting to Regulus. But they’re also the people he’s gonna spend the rest of his stay here with, and he doesn’t want trouble with any of them.

“That’s so sweet,” James sighs a bit dreamily, grinning widely at him. Regulus makes a point not to stare at his dimples. “Nice to meet you, Regulus.”

James offers him his hand, because of course he does, and Regulus only stalls for a couple of seconds before he reaches out and grabs it, giving it a firm shake and a tiny squeeze.

His smile appears to become even bigger, if possible, and Regulus lets go quickly after that, choosing someone else, anyone really, to put his focus on.

He thinks James’ eyes linger on his frame for a bit longer, but by the time he dares to cast a glance at him, he’s looking away, chatting animatedly with Frank. Regulus shakes his head softly, before sliding a bit closer to where Peter and Kingsley are talking, sharing what hopes they have for this season of the show.

It doesn’t last long, however. After a handful of minutes in which Regulus is more than happy with just listening—although both men have asked him for his opinion a couple of times and done their best to include him in the conversation—they hear the main door open once again. They all shut up at the same time, and turn around to look, which probably paints quite the funny image.

Regulus assumes it’s just Pandora, making an appearance to welcome them properly and explain how the Bonfires and the Temptation Light are going to work. Regulus already knows all this, but considering they like to introduce new stuff every season to keep it dynamic, he supposes it won’t hurt, sitting down with the rest of the guys and listening to what Pandora has to say.

Except, it’s not Pandora.

When they all move closer to the entrance to see who their guest is, they discover what must be a dozen girls carrying suitcases, bouncing excitedly on their feet and smiling playfully at all of them.

It takes them a second, probably due to shock, but they rush to greet them and help them with their luggage, exchanging names and little random facts, so eager to be the perfect gentlemen, as if they hadn’t been whining about missing their girlfriends a couple of minutes ago.

Regulus is slower at joining them, confusion clouding his mind and dread beginning to pool at his stomach.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were meant to spend the first night on their own, and then meet the tempters tomorrow, accompanied by their girlfriends, even if they weren’t allowed to sit with them, or interact much.

It must be a change of plans. One of Pandora’s so-called ways of keeping the audience on their toes. And as it turns out, she also seems to enjoy surprising the participants, not even bothering to give them a heads up before bringing all the girls inside the house.

Regulus doesn’t like it. Partly, because he isn’t a fan of surprises, but also because he was hoping to have some time alone to clear his head. Have a quiet first night, some space to process everything that’s happened in the past 24 hours.

He’s already tired of pretending, of faking smiles and acting smitten. And now he has to socialise with a bunch of women whose sole purpose in this program is trying to get in his pants?

Yeah, no, fuck that.

Regulus bites his tongue so hard the inside of his mouth fills with blood, but the pain manages to ground him a little. Keeps him from losing his fucking mind. Once he’s certain he won’t start screaming, he puts on his most polite smile, and goes to join the rest of the guys.

Chapter Text

James thinks it started with the mention of marriage.

Objectively speaking, he and Lily haven’t been together for that long; five years isn’t much in the grand scheme of things, and getting married has always sounded like too big of a step. Don’t get James wrong, he’s pretty sure Lily is the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with, but he doesn’t want to rush into it and risk ruining everything they’ve built so far.

It’s true, however, that he’s been friends with Lily for a lot longer than that. They met in secondary school, and even though she wasn’t that fond of him during the first couple of years—James can’t really fault her, he was a right knob—they got close once James began to realise the error of his ways. Close enough that they became basically best friends, or maybe not that, exactly, because Sirius will always be James’ best friend and soulmate, but something akin to it. James feels a certain peace when he’s with Lily.

He barely remembers when things shifted between them. He had never gotten over her, not really, but he had matured enough to push his feelings to the side, focus on their blooming friendship and not make her uncomfortable. James is aware that their dynamic changed progressively, with them flirting occasionally and always seeming to be toeing the line between romantic and platonic, but he has no idea of when exactly Lily developed an interest in him. She’s never said.

James does remember, however, the first time he gathered the courage to ask her out. Well, technically it wasn’t really the ‘first’ time, considering he did so constantly for years, each attempt more obnoxious than the last, but it was the first time that truly mattered.

It seems so hard to believe sometimes, even now, that Lily ended up saying yes.

Since that one date, they’ve been nothing short of inseparable. James used to fear that the magic would wear off at some point, that he’d come to realise that things with Lily weren’t what he had expected, or that she’d come to her senses and tell him to fuck off. Except, it never happened. The first date went great, as did all of the ones that came after that. Every year that passed, it felt like their relationship only became stronger. More secure and more stable.

James has always been a bit of a romantic, especially because of who his parents are, and the kind of love story they experienced, but age has taught him to be a bit more realistic. Age and that one fight with Lily back when he was still being a prick and nearly stalking her. She apologised for everything he said to him then, in front of half the school, but James can’t deny that she wasn’t exactly wrong. He had been an entitled brat. He had been overbearing, and an asshole who wouldn’t take no for an answer. He had been delusional, and had never respected her, not like she deserved.

Thank fucking god he learnt his lesson.

Maybe that’s why he’s been so set on taking things slow with Lily. James is sure they both think this is forever, anyway, so it isn’t like there’s any rush. They only moved in together a year and a half ago, and James didn’t agree to it straight away when Lily first suggested it, even though his first impulse was to start looking for flats immediately.

He hadn’t even been thinking about marriage, really. Which is incredibly out of character for him, James knows, but there just hadn’t been a need for it. They’ve been doing really well, creating their own routine and making their flat look like a home, like their home. James loves coming home after a long day of work to find Lily grading papers all focused, lighting up as soon as he leans down to kiss her forehead.

But then people started to ask. Questions turned into assumptions, and those assumptions turned into pressure. James is aware that Lily was feeling as stressed as he himself was, because they had sat down to discuss, think about where they stand. And the thing is, it’s not that they don’t wanna get married, because they do, and James is certain they will. But it just doesn’t feel right to do it now. They agreed to wait, and to let all of their friends know they didn’t appreciate their prodding, even if it was well-intentioned. All of them understood, of course, and things went back to normal.

Until it wasn’t their friends bringing it up; it was James’ parents instead.

He stills remembers when his mum sat down with him and questioned his reasons for not wanting to marry who is, by all intents and purposes, the love of his life. And James tried to explain to the best of his abilities, but the truth is that he didn’t even know why. His mum wasn’t being pushy, or attempting to make him feel bad; she genuinely just wanted to understand. She loves Lily, both her and James’ dad can’t wait to welcome her properly into the family, and since they’re a bit old, they’re hoping it’ll happen sooner rather than later.

James has never minded this, because it’s well-intentioned, and despite the comments and insistence, they’ve never made him feel pressured.

Until that moment, that is.

That mostly innocent chat with his mum is what sent him spiralling. He did his best to hide it, to keep it from affecting his relationship, but James wears his heart on his sleeve, and Lily knows him like the back of her hand. She never insisted when he refused to talk, but she never failed to remind him that she was there for him, that communication was key, that she didn’t want him to carry whatever burden he was carrying all on his own.

She had been right, because she’s always right. And James should’ve listened to her, should’ve shared all his worries and fears and frustration.

Instead, he had proposed to her during date night.

It’s been months since it happened, and yet, James is still hurt over the rejection. He knew Lily was going to say no; she had told him time and time again that she wasn’t ready to get married, not then and not any time soon. But a part of him, tiny and dark and hidden, had hoped she’d say yes. James isn’t even sure of why, when an engagement doesn’t feel right to him, either.

Things were strained for a bit after that. James had closed himself off, almost without realising, and for the first time since they had started dating, since they became friends, Lily couldn’t even reach him. Didn’t even try, really. And James has been doing his best not to be bitter, he is, because it’s not her fault—this is on him for proposing and ignoring her boundaries. But also, it really fucking stung. It still does.

He’s been having a hard time, reconciling all the love he has for her with the slowly growing resentment that’s been building up inside him for months now.

And then, one day, Lily came home convinced that the best way to fix all their problems was… to join a reality show?

James supposes he can’t say much, considering he ended up agreeing, but he’s never been able to deny Lily anything, so it was bound to happen, really, regardless of what he actually thought of the whole thing.

Lily said a coworker came up with the idea, and that she also had her reservations about it but then had some sort of revelation? James has no idea. Those weeks were a whirlwind of filling out forms and taking calls and watching random episodes to get an idea of what he was getting himself into.

Needless to say, James hasn’t been exactly thrilled to be part of a program that sort of encourages cheating and is known for having ruined people’s relationships and lives. But Lily insisted, arguing that it’d be fun, and that they had nothing to worry about, and that they’d come out of it better and stronger than ever. That this little test was going to help with their issues, make them realise what actually mattered.

James saw her point, but also, he didn’t. He just wanted them to be fine again. So, he smiled, closed his eyes, and took Lily’s hand.

He’s just hoping he won’t end up regretting it.

***

“Wait, so there’s, like, different lights?” Peter asks, raising a hand to stop Pandora’s explanation. She blinks at him, and smiles indulgently. Somehow, the gesture feels a little stiff. “I thought it was just the usual red one—”

“As I was saying,” she cuts in, her voice rising momentarily, “we’re incorporating a new version of it for this season. It makes the same sound, and it will still be placed out in the open so you can see it easily. There are simply different colours this time, each of them representing a different kind of line being crossed.”

Peter frowns, curling into himself as he shakes his head softly. James gives him a sympathetic look, because he gets it, he really does; this whole place seems to be designed to look like a dream holiday destination when in reality, it’s meant to make you go absolutely mental.

He hesitates momentarily, but in the end, he reaches out, patting Peter gently on the shoulder. He receives a small smile in return, and James swears he can feel the other man’s body relax under his contact.

They just met, really. Literally introduced to each other less than an hour ago. But James already feels a certain kinship to these men, to their struggles and their nerves. It does help that they’ve all been kind and open; James has taken a liking to Frank, especially, but he thinks Kingsley is impossible to not get along with, and Peter has turned out to be one of the funniest blokes he’s ever met. When he isn’t toeing the line of having a panic attack, that is.

And Regulus… James doesn’t know what to make of him just yet. He’s quiet, and seems very reserved, which clashes a bit with the assumptions he had made about the people that participated in this show. He really doesn’t look like the type to enjoy something like Temptation Island. But he is here, after all, and apart from that air of awkwardness surrounding him, he doesn’t appear to be too annoyed, or upset, about what has happened so far.

He’s utterly devoted to his girlfriend, though, or at least that’s the feeling James has gotten from hearing him talk about her. And he appreciates that. He appreciates that a lot. Maybe that’s why James is so curious about him, itching to get closer and earn his friendship. He doesn’t think it’ll be very hard to get along with the other boys, but Regulus will probably pose a bit of a challenge.

James would be lying if he said he isn’t a bit excited at the prospect.

“And how do we know?” Frank intervenes this time, arms crossed over his chest. “How do we know which lines are being crossed? How are we supposed to distinguish when one of our girlfriends is just playing one of the games, and when she’s straight up sleeping with one of the tempters?”

Pandora exhales loudly through her nose, and James watches the way in which her hands clench where they’re resting on her lap.

“If you stopped interrupting, then I’d be able to explain. I promise everything is going to make sense.” She takes a deep breath, her expression becoming placid once more. “You’re the ones who decide the boundaries and the different kinds of lines, just like your girlfriends will be able to choose for you, too. I’m sure most of you are familiar with the traffic light system—”

Laughter fills the room, the noise teasing and even a little cocky, and this time, when Pandora grins, she seems somewhat pleased.

James takes a peek at the other side of the couch where they’re all sitting, and isn’t surprised to find that Regulus isn’t laughing with them all. However, the corners of his mouth keep twitching, and if James squints his eyes just right, it almost looks like he’s smiling.

“So basically, you’ll have a green light, an amber light, and the usual red light,” Pandora continues when their laughs finally begin to die down. “The green light will appear when your partners are toeing the line, but not necessarily doing anything that you’d consider cheating. Just behaviours that might be alarming, or cause reason for concern.”

They all nod, satisfied with this, and starting to understand where Pandora is going with all this. But James can’t help but squirm in his seat, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his face from showing any turmoil.

“The amber light will represent actions that you would consider cheating, but that you might be able to forgive under the right circumstances. And of course, the red light signifies the point of no return.” Pandora’s voice turns grave at the end, but there’s a certain glint in her eyes while she speaks. “Of course, and as you all probably already know, the light is accompanied by the sound of an alarm, so you will notice it when it happens. However, you won’t be able to tell which one of your girlfriends is the one responsible for the light.”

James doesn’t need to check to be sure that all of them are frowning, or at least something very close to it.

“Until the Bonfire,” someone butts in, and James turns around to see Regulus with an arched eyebrow. He seems completely unphased. James doesn’t know if it makes him feel jealous or fills him with admiration.

“Until the Bonfire,” Pandora concedes with a tilt of her head. “But remember, what you see there is only a brief compilation. And it’s made specifically for each of you, depending on what the team and I decide you should watch for the improvement of your experience in the show.”

“That sounds a little manipulative,” James mumbles, and Pandora raises both eyebrows at him, feigning surprise.

Her eyes are harsh, though. Almost like they’re attempting to pierce right through him, hoping to see him break.

James is aware that she’s simply doing her job, and there’s nothing personal about it, but he doesn’t think he likes Pandora very much.

Regulus snorts, and when James looks at him, their gazes meet briefly, before he focuses on Pandora once again. “That’s because it is.”

She wrinkles her nose slightly, but James can’t tell how offended she actually is. Her expression is displeased, but James could swear there’s an amused glint in her eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear that’s the impression you have,” Pandora murmurs with a soft shake of her head. “It’s never our intention to manipulate any of you. The show’s goal is to test your loyalty, and your faith, and the love you feel for your partners. We can’t do that if we don’t challenge your minds a little in the process. The Bonfires help us do just that.”

James blinks, cocking his head just enough to catch a glimpse of Regulus’ reaction. He doesn’t look very annoyed, almost as if he was expecting this kind of rebuttal, but he does let out an irritated huff, before leaning against the couch more comfortably.

“There’s a Bonfire once a week, right?” Kingsley questions all of a sudden, one of his hands raised. James smiles at the gesture.

Pandora nods. “We make exceptions, sometimes, especially towards the end of the season and depending on how things are going, but yes. You’ll go to a Bonfire every weekend until the end of the show.”

She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, and then casually checks the watch wrapped around her wrist. She sighs heavily, lips pursing in what appears to be disappointment.

“I’m afraid I’ve overstayed my welcome—” Pandora begins, rising from her seat and dusting off her skirt.

“Wait,” Peter exclaims, also jumping to his feet. Pandora halts her movements, face completely blank as she waits for Peter to continue. “What about the dates?”

“What about them?” she asks with a blink in response.

“Um. Are they—how do they work? And how often are they gonna happen? Do we get to change our minds about the girl we choose to take out or—”

Pandora puts one of her hands up, effectively shutting Peter up. Even James feels the need to keep his own mouth firmly closed, even though he hadn’t been talking.

“It was all already explained,” she retorts gently, already making her way towards the door.

Peter sputters through it all, but Pandora doesn’t take pity on him, bidding them all farewell and waving her hand playfully, before slamming the door right behind her.

Pandora didn’t say, maybe because she isn’t allowed to specify during shooting, but she was referring to the second meeting James is assuming all of them had. After signing the contract and confirming they were going to participate in the show, Pandora brought them to their office once again, to discuss a few general rules and go over how everything worked. He and Lily already had a generally good idea, because they had watched a few episodes to avoid going in completely blind, but that talk had been very informative and much appreciated.

Both he and Kingsley reach out almost at the same time, sharing a glance while they both set their hands on each of Peter’s shoulders. He sags against their touch, head hanging low, and James gives it a squeeze before he steps away.

“It’ll be okay,” Kingsley says, his hold lingering for a bit longer than James’. “At the end of the day, we’re here to have fun. Just be yourself and by the time the first date rolls in, I’m sure there’ll be someone you’ll want to spend some time with.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Peter murmurs, unconvinced. He sighs deeply. “I just—I don’t want to do anything that may upset Mary—”

“Didn’t you agree to make the most out of this experience?” Kingsley reminds him.

“Sure, but, like—I’m not sure of what those dates entail, and I’m afraid of—I don’t know.” He rubs insistently at his eyes, before raising his head again, expression so very tired. James’ heart gives a painful flip at the sight. “I don’t wanna fuck up.”

“And you’re won’t,” Kingsley assures him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling Peter flush against his side. “None of us will. We’ll watch out for you, yeah?”

He searches for James’ eyes, a certain urgency in his gaze, and James finds himself nodding almost immediately, reciprocating Kingsley’s grateful smile as he moves closer to both men.

“Absolutely,” James agrees. He hadn’t expected these guys to be so supportive, and kind, especially when they haven’t known each other for more than a couple of hours. Needless to say, he’s pleasantly surprised. “We got each other’s backs.”

Peter’s eyes widen and he stares at James with parted lips in something like awe. Kingsley jostles him a little, teasing, and it manages to drag a tiny chuckle out of Peter. He relaxes considerably after that, as if that little noise was enough to expel the worst part of his anxiety.

The next time James looks at Kingsley, the other man mouths a silent ‘thank you’, and James can only shake his head in response, his grin spreading wider.

Frank joins them a second later, patting the three of them in the back. James stumbles slightly, taken aback by his strength, and then Frank is rushing to grab his arm, stabilising him with a grunt.

There’s a beat, and then all of them are cackling.

James doubles over, Frank’s fingers still wrapped around his forearm, laughter bubbling up his throat helplessly. He wasn’t aware of how much he needed it until now, but with how tense and frenetic that last few weeks have been, it’s really nice to be able to just… let go. Laugh it all off. This whole situation is so fucking ridiculous, but James is already here, too late to turn back now. He might as well have some fun with it.

When he calms down a little and straightens up, Frank finally relinquishing the hold he had on him, James’ attention falls upon Regulus. He’s still sitting on the couch, the perfect picture of indifference, his mouth firmly set in a straight line. James hadn’t even noticed he hadn’t joined in with the rest of them, but he supposes that it makes sense. Not like he knows Regulus that much, he barely does really, but it seems on brand from what he’s seen of him so far.

He’s caught staring after a moment, not even trying to be subtle, and Regulus arches an eyebrow, lips twisting into what can only be called a sneer. James blinks a couple of times, before he offers the other man a playful wink. A low, surprised chuckle escapes his mouth the moment Regulus averts his gaze with a scoff.

“Thank you,” Peter sighs, amusement still present in his tone. James’ focus lingers on Regulus for a few extra seconds, before returning to Peter. “Fuck, that was good. I thought this was gonna end up being a bit of a nightmare, but you guys are real lovely.”

Kingsley coos at him, poking him on the cheek and making both James and Frank snort. Peter groans and pushes Kingsley away, making him trip and nearly tumble to the floor. He has decent enough reflexes to catch himself at the last second, but he’s laughing so hard he ends up collapsing anyway.

This, of course, sends them all into a fit of giggles once again. Even Regulus seems to be holding some back when James glances at him, lower lip trapped between his lip and grey eyes lit up in amusement.

“As cheesy as that was, I agree,” Frank comments, shaking his head with no small amount of fondness. “I’m glad I’ll be going through this experience with you all.”

“Oh, and that wasn’t cheesy?” Kingsley asks, eyebrows arching in mock surprise.

“I’m not hearing you deny it, Shacklebolt.”

“Just trying to save you the embarrassment, Longbottom.”

“C’mon, it’s okay to be a soppy bastard, you can admit it.”

“You’re a soppy bastard!” Kingsley retorts, dragging a snort from nearly all of them.

“You’re both soppy bastards,” Regulus speaks up all of a sudden, grumbling under his breath. Still, he’s loud enough that they hear him, and all their heads whip around to stare at him. “You just met each other a few hours ago, for fuck’s sake.”

James snorts, and the noise gets Regulus’ attention. His gaze zeroes on James, his eyes narrowing as steps closer until he’s standing right in front of him. Regulus stares up at him, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Aw, Reggie, are you jealous?” James asks, playful and teasing, the corner of his mouth already ticking upwards.

Regulus crosses his arms over his chest. “Of what? A bunch of gullible men promising eternal friendship when they barely know each other? Please.” He scoffs. “And don’t call me that.”

Kingsley makes a wounded noise behind him, and James tilts his head back just in time to watch him clutch at his chest all dramatically, Peter patting him in the back a bit condescendingly. Frank rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile curving his lips.

“Not very fond of the nickname?” James prods, focus going back to Regulus’ indifferent face.

“Not very fond of you using it,” Regulus counters drily. “Like I said, I don’t know you.”

“But you will. Whether you like it or not,” James sing-songs, sort of delighted at the way Regulus’ expression twists in a scowl.

“Yeah, Reg,” Kingsley butts in, sliding right next to James, their arms touching. “You’re also one of us. And I have a feeling we’ll grow on you.”

“I fear that might just be wishful thinking on your part.” Regulus sighs. “But sure. You’re more than welcome to try.”

Kingsley lets out an incredulous laugh, and James finds himself grinning. Regulus’ eyes keep jumping from one of them to the other, a furrow between his eyebrows that only seems to worsen by the second.

“Oh, you’re funny,” Kingsley comments, remnants of laughter still covering his tone. “He’s funny,” he repeats, looking around. “We’re absolutely gonna be best friends, Reg.”

Regulus wrinkles his nose, and James is a bit surprised by how endereaded he feels at the sight.

“No fucking way,” he grumbles, pressing closer to the couch, as if attempting to put some more distance between him and Kingsley. “And if I didn’t like Potter using ‘Reggie’ why would you think that you using ‘Reg’ is any better?”

“I mean, ‘Regulus’ just feels a bit too long to me—”

“It’s three syllables. And it’s my goddamn name.”

“And ‘Reg’ is so cute, simple and short,” Kingsley goes on, completely ignoring him. “It just rolls off the tongue so nicely. Don’t you think it rolls off the tongue very nicely, James?”

Regulus, who had been doing his best to obliterate Kingsley with his mind, suddenly shifts focus, his glare now directed at James even before he even has the chance to open his mouth.

It’s a bit odd, because he can almost feel himself blooming slightly under the attention, despite said attention being the wrong kind. It reminds James of being young and awkward and a bit of an idiot, back when he craved everyone’s eyes on him, regardless of what sort of emotion was prompting those looks.

“I do,” James agrees after a bit, barely swallowing down a chuckle when Regulus sneers at him. “Although, I also think ‘Regulus’ is a very pretty name. Definitely suits the owner.”

A soft pink spreads over Regulus’ cheeks, probably out of anger, and James is more than a little delighted for being the cause of it. Maybe it’s because he looks like the kind of person who’s impossible to shake, and there’s a certain thrill in being able to affect him, in getting a proper reaction out of him.

“I’ll kill you,” Regulus declares in a snarl, and he sounds so convincing James nearly believes him.

“No nicknames and no compliments?” Kingsley murmurs, clicking his tongue. “You’re a tough nut to crack, Regulus.”

“But we’ll get there,” Peter exclaims from somewhere behind them.

“He’s one of us, after all,” Frank sighs, sounding like he’s reluctant to join in the teasing, but in the end couldn’t resist it.

“One of us!” Kingsley mock-whispers, raising his fist in the air. Peter echoes the sentiment, equally excited, and James shakes his head in amusement, unable to cease his smiling.

“I swear to fucking god—” Regulus begins barely in a murmur, his jaw clenched and his hands twitching dangerously.

James thinks it might be time to tone it down.

“Come on, we’re just teasing,” he says, placating. Of course, it only earns him a glare. “We’ll shut up, yeah?”

“I’m not sure any of you know how to do that.”

He snorts loudly through his nose, before taking a step closer and offering Regulus his hand, exactly like he did when they first introduced themselves.

Regulus eyes it with the same level of wariness.

“We’ll be on our best behaviour,” James insists, gaze never leaving Regulus’ face. “You have my word.”

Regulus arches an eyebrow. “Your word doesn’t mean anything to me, Potter.”

Despite his words, Regulus accepts James’ hand, taking it in his own and allowing James to pull him up from the couch. Someone lets out a whoop, and there’s some sarcastic clapping, and James has to bite his tongue to keep a laugh from escaping at the spectacle of it all. It’d probably wouldn’t do him any favours with Regulus, and he fears he might already be on thin ice.

Regulus looks over James’ shoulder, sporting the most deadpan expression James has ever seen in his life. It only results in a few amused snorts, and in Regulus sighing with a shake of his head, not even bothering with threats anymore.

“So, what do you guys wanna do?” Frank inquires, moving until he’s standing next to the three of them, Peter hot on his heels.

“I’m thinking of taking a swim in the pool,” James suggests. He gives a squeeze to Regulus’ hand, which is still wrapped around his. “Sounds good?”

Regulus startles, blinking repeatedly before his eyes fall onto their still joined hands. He stares at them for a second, before he jumps back, wrenching his own free as that sweet pink returns to his cheeks.

“I don’t care,” he mumbles, refusing to meet James’ gaze. “It’s not like I’ll be joining you.”

“No?”

“A dip in the pool sounds fucking heavenly,” Kingsley groans.

“Yeah, it’s fucking boiling outside, dude,” Frank agrees, running a hand through his short black hair.

“You sure you don’t wanna come, Regulus?” Peter asks quietly. “You don’t have to get in the water. You can just sit in one of the loungers and keep us company.”

James rushes to nod, eyes roaming all over Regulus’ conflicted expression. “Of course. You can just sit down and relax if you’re not in the mood for a swim. It’s just—we should stick together.”

“You’re making it sound like this is a survival and not a dating show,” Regulus huffs out, the beginning of a laugh hiding there.

“I don’t think there’s that much of a difference, really,” James replies, and it’s mostly a joke, he thinks, but it doesn’t exactly taste like one as it falls from his lips.

The corners of Regulus’ mouth tick upwards, even though their owner makes sure they can never form a full smile. He tilts his head slightly, as if he’s conceding James’ point.

“Still, I’m not sure if I—” Regulus starts, the echo of a sigh in his tone.

He never manages to finish, however, because the girls slowly but surely slip once more into the living room. A couple of them curiously peek around the doorway, checking that Pandora’s gone before deciding to join them.

“Is the conversation over?” a voice questions, and James thinks it’s Lucinda’s? He’s been trying to remember the names with the faces that belong to each of them, but there’s quite a few of them, and he didn’t have the chance to talk to all of them properly before Pandora made an appearance. “Are we allowed to come back?”

Both Peter and Kingsley seem to light up, and Frank smiles amicably at the girls, giving them a nod that is accompanied by the others’ enthusiastic yeses. All the confirmation they need, a couple of giggles and nudging elbows later the girls start to wander back inside, some of them going straight to the couches while the rest simply move to stand next to where the guys had been chatting.

“That took a while,” one of them sighs. James thinks it might be Hestia. She has her curly brown hair tied at the top of her head in a tight knot, and her bikini top is peeking out of the neckline of her cropped shirt. “Were you guys already getting scolded?”

She takes her time to look at every single one of them, and when her eyes reach James, he offers her a grin and a shrug.

“Nah, just had a lot of questions,” he explains, and she smiles back at him.

“I thought you guys knew how the show works,” a different girl points out, and James isn’t as sure about this one. She’s blonde, so she must be Marlene. The only other blonde is Lucinda, and her voice is a bit higher pitched. “Didn’t you get an explanation before coming to the island? I was told we all did.”

“Yeah, but it’s a lot to take in, and in such a short period of time.” Frank shakes his head gently, and then walks to sit on one of the armrests of the couch, right next to… Amelia? Yeah, James is pretty sure it’s Amelia. She’s the one with pretty brown eyes and long black hair. So long it almost reaches her waist.

“That, and Pete panicked a bit for a moment there,” Kingley adds, elbowing Peter playfully, who makes an outraged noise and hits him in the shoulder.

The girls chuckle and then coo, Peter becoming flustered under their scrutiny. Emmeline—and James is sure about her, because it’s one of the girls he’s spoken to the most—gets up from the couch and leans forward, fingers wrapping around Peter’s forearm and pulling insistently, until he follows, letting himself be guided to the couch, sitting between Emmeline and Marlene.

He blushes a furious red, and the girls coo again.

“Don’t worry, Peter, you’re in good hands,” Emmeline murmurs, pressing closer to him. “We’ll make sure you’re properly taken care of.”

Kingsley laughs heartily, and a few of the girls don’t take long to join him. James also smiles a little, but it’s mostly in an attempt to stop himself from frowning.

He’s aware that it’s all playful, and no one is meant to force anyone, but he isn’t sure of how well he’s going to be able to deal with such suggestive comments, especially if they’ll be addressed to him, too. There’s only so many times you can let down someone gently before it starts becoming frustrating.

James doesn’t fault them. The girls are merely doing their jobs, while looking to have a nice time in the process. But it’s still a hard pill to swallow, the fact that they’ll be flirting with them all, even though they have girlfriends. They don’t care, because they’re paid not to care, and since they’re all single, what should it matter to them? At the end of the day, it’s all up to the men, on if they manage to resist temptation.

The girls aren’t really to blame, James doesn’t think, but their behaviour doesn’t sit right with him, either.

He just hopes he’ll be able to enjoy himself, despite it all.

“What’s the plan, then?” Marlene asks, shifting until she’s sitting more comfortably on the couch, legs slightly spread.

“We were thinking of going for a dip,” Kingsley tells her, and she visibly perks up at that.

“Fuck yeah, let’s do it. The AC is on and I’m still sweating.”

There’s a few more murmurs of approval as the girls stand up, some of them heading to their rooms to change, while others simply begin to take the outer layers off, already wearing their swimsuits.

James, who had predicted this was bound to happen at some point, considering they were gonna be living on an island, also already has his swimming trunks on. He unbuttons his shirt swiftly, before dropping it in one of the loveseats. A second later, there’s a hand resting on his bicep, and he looks down to find Emma grinning widely at him.

She’s the first girl whose name and face James memorised. Emma approached him first, bold and witty and flirty, and despite her intentions being more than a little transparent, she didn’t give the impression of being too pushy. Conversation had flowed surprisingly easily, and James has a feeling they’ll continue to get along really well, regardless of whatever interest she might have in him.

“Hey,” he greets her warmly, with a smile of his own. When she realises he isn’t rejecting her touch, she grabs his arm more firmly.

“Hey you,” Emma says back, batting her lashes. “C’mon, the pool’s waiting, and you never finished telling me that story about that prank you and your friends pulled in school that almost got you expelled.”

“Sure, I just—” James looks around, eyebrows shooting up in confusion when he realises Regulus is nowhere to be seen. When he turns around, however, he catches sight of him, climbing up the stairs, probably on his way to his room. James scans the room, turning to get a better look around and finally catching sight of him as he slips up the stairs. If James knows anything about Regulus at all, he figures he won’t be seeing the other man again for hours if Regulus can help it.

The thought settles uneasily in James, who’s speaking before his brain can catch up with him. “Reg!” he calls to the retreating figure. “You coming?”

Regulus doesn’t even bother to turn around, simply raises an arm and makes a waving motion with his wrist. “Not really in the mood. I think I’m gonna unpack, and maybe take a nap. I’ll see you all at dinner.”

James watches him go until Regulus completely disappears from his line of sight. He does his best to hide the disappointment in his face. He fails miserably.

“His jet lag must be terrible, the poor thing” Emma murmurs, sighing quietly. “Don’t worry, James, I’m sure he’ll feel better after lying down for a bit. Let’s go.”

He goes without protesting, resuming the anecdote he had been explaining to Emma before Pandora interrupted.

His mind, however, remains stuck on Regulus.

***

The party is already in full swing by the time James makes it outside, drink in hand and grin in place. He had ended up taking longer than he expected to get ready, mostly because he hadn’t come as prepared as he had thought. He supposes it’s on him, really, because Pandora had informed them that parties were a regular thing, each one with a theme that had to be followed.

Tonight, it’s Ancient Greece—which sounds simple enough, but James doesn’t really have a lot of clothes that suit the mood. Fortunately for him, he’s on a reality show, where everything is meant to be perfect with no loose ends in sight. Tonight, that means James is standing in a room full of costumes at his disposal, struck dumb at how little fabric is actually in the room.

Not like anyone else is wearing a lot of clothes right now, anyway.

James had opted for a short toga, the strap coming up to his right shoulder in such a way that left more than half of his chest exposed. It’s secured with a beautiful golden clasp, and he can’t help the way in which he keeps grazing it almost absentmindedly, obsessively checking that it’s secure and that he won’t end up stripped down to his boxers.

Although, that might sort of be what production’s going for.

He finds everyone lounging close to the pool. Most of them are sitting on the few armchairs scattered all around it, chatting animatedly, laughing loudly and taking sip after sip of their respective drinks. But a few of the girls are dancing, Peter, and Kingsley are dancing; Peter is with Emmeline—they’ve been attached at the hip—and Kingsley is twirling Amelia around with a smile so wide James thinks his jaw must be hurting.

Frank is the one who notices his presence first, shooting him a grin and beckoning him over with a wave. James walks towards him, careful to not crash against anyone on the makeshift dance floor and to also avoid all of the girls’ attempts to force him to join. It’s harder than it sounds, but fortunately for him, they’re not too drunk yet, and they give up fairly easily.

James sits down on the armchair to Frank’s left, the one to his right taken up by a mass of tangled limbs that make up Lucinda and Marlene. He greets his friend with a tiny nod, clinks their glasses together, and braves a sip of his cocktail. James barely represses his grimace at the sudden burst of sweetness; he’s never been a fan of cocktails, but he’d found an array of prepared drinks on the kitchen counter when he’d come downstairs. He decided it was in the spirit of things to try one, especially since someone had taken the time to make them.

James thought it was likely that the cocktails were somehow thanks to production. They haven’t seen Pandora in the few days since they first arrived, but there are cooks, cleaners. They tend to work in the shadows, and don’t spend more time than necessary inside the house, probably because they’re not supposed to feature, or to interact with any of them. It wouldn’t surprise James if there’s also someone who’s in charge of making cocktails and all the parties’ preparation.

The weekend draws getting closer, and the first Bonfire with it. To his surprise, James hasn’t been too concerned about it; not like Peter, who is growing more and more anxious as the days pass. He just genuinely doesn’t believe he’ll see anything from Lily beyond her enjoying herself and hopefully making some friends—certainly nothing worrisome.

That doesn’t mean he’s excited about it, either, though. It’s almost too easy to pretend they’re just here as a big group of friends on a nice holiday, no one being watched, when they’re left on their own at the house. They’ve been working on creating a routine, getting to properly know each other, and it’s been lovely. James has been enjoying himself a lot more than he expected to.

But the Bonfires are a reminder of where they are. What they came here to do. They’re the nature of the program, and an invasion of privacy.

Regardless of what he thinks he may or may not see, James doesn’t think it’ll sit right in his stomach.

“You alright over there, mate?” Frank asks in a murmur, his voice cutting through all of James’ hazy thoughts. Frank reaches out with a naked foot, tapping him playfully on the ankle.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I just—” James shakes his head, forcing the corners of his mouth to curl upwards. “I have a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“I get it. It’s the Bonfire, right?”

“Amongst other things. How did you know?”

“Dude, I think we’ve been all worrying about it, at least a little.” Frank lets out a little sigh, before taking a long gulp of his drink. He’s almost done with his cocktail, and unlike James’ vaguely pink drink, Frank’s is orange. “We’ve never done this shit, and we all miss our girlfriends. So, on one hand we’re excited to see how they’ve been doing, but at the same time we’re terrified of what we might find out in the process.”

James nods slowly, eyes squinting as he chews on Frank’s words.

“It is quite daunting,” he concedes. “Don’t you trust Alice, though?”

“Of course I do,” Frank replies, without missing a beat. “And yet there’s also a part of me, a very small part of me, that can’t help but wonder, ‘what if?’, you know?”

“Yeah,” James lies, stretching his arm until he can give Frank a comforting pat on the knee.

There isn’t a single cell in James’ body that doubts Lily, or what they have. Even if she feels attracted to someone else, she won’t throw away all they’ve built together for an urge, a mere whim. That’s not the kind of person she is. Or James, for that matter.

“You need to stop overthinking it,” Lucinda pipes in, tone gentle but determined. “It’s a party, Frank! You should be having fun, dancing and getting sloshed.”

Frank huffs, but he doesn’t seem genuinely annoyed, lips pulling up in half a grin as he turns to look at Lucinda. He raises his glass, before putting it against his lips and tossing it back, finishing it on a swift sip.

Lucinda cheers, and Marlene joins her after a second, although her whooping sounds a lot more half-hearted. Frank snorts, and James gives his knee a squeeze before pulling back.

“Better?” Frank questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Much better,” Lucinda agrees, a glint in her blue eyes. She’s on her feet a moment later, leaning down just to take Frank’s empty glass next to the armchair, before she grabs onto his hand and forces him to stand. “Let’s get you another one, and then join the others on the dancefloor.”

“Ah,” Frank mumbles. He goes slowly, allowing Lucinda to drag him with her but considerably slowing her movements. “I’m afraid I’m really not much of a dancer.” He tilts his head back, eyes wide in panic as he stares pleadingly at James, mouthing a silent ‘help me’.

James chuckles under his breath, and Marlene smirks devilishly when she notices Frank’s expression.

If Lucinda saw, that doesn’t deter her. “That’s fine, I’ll teach you!”

“Oh, that’s—very thoughtful of you, Lu, really, but I have two left feet, and I’d hate to step over you, and hurt you, and ruin your night—”

“Nonsense,” she states with a flip of her hair. “You just haven’t had a good enough teacher. We’ll have so much fun, Frank, you’ll see.”

Frank visibly deflates at that, head hanging low, while James and Marlene share a look and do their best to stifle their laughter. Of course, and as soon as Frank and Lucinda slip back inside the house, they break into giggles, both their bodies shaking with the strength of it.

“Jesus, he looked terrified,” Marlene gasps out, one of her hands clutching at her belly. “And honestly, I don’t know if it was because of Lucinda or the dancing.”

“Might be a bit of both,” James muses, finally calming down a little. “I’ll keep an eye on him, in case he actually needs saving at some point tonight.”

“Nah, he’ll be fine.” Marlene makes a lazy gesture with her wrist. “Lu will look after him.”

“She’s trying to get him drunk,” James argues with no real heat, giggles still bubbling up his throat.

She rolls her eyes. “Not like that. She isn’t the kind to take advantage.”

“I mean, I would hope so. I would hope that no one in this house is.”

Marlene only shrugs, which isn’t comforting to James in the slightest, but then again, she doesn’t seem like the type. She’s the only girl who hasn’t been very interested in seducing any of the boys or in playing any of the games. Marlene gets along really well with all of them; so well, in fact, James would bet all of the guys would agree they feel most comfortable with her. It’s just easy to hang out with her, to talk to her, especially once he realised that she didn’t seem to be after anything. Not yet at least, he reminds himself. She’s still a tempter. She’s still getting paid to make them cheat.

It’s very hard to remember that at moments like this, though.

“What’s it gonna be tonight, then, Potter?” Marlene asks after a beat. James isn’t sure how he feels about the change in topic, now that it feels closer to home.

Unwittingly, his mind turns to Regulus. What’s he doing? Is he having fun? Has anyone tempted him yet? No—he quickly shakes the idea from his head. The thought of Regulus being tempted by—of him possibly cheating with—one of the girls here makes something twist uncomfortably in James’ stomach. Regulus may keep to himself most of the time, but James sees a lot of himself in the way Regulus talks about his girlfriend, in the way he so clearly cares about her. He feels they share a similar outlook on this process and have similar ideas on how it’s going to end for the both of them.

He just has this unexplainable feeling that they get each other, if Regulus would only let him in.

James is forced away from thoughts of Regulus when Marlene shifts to lie down on the lounger more comfortably and spills a bit of her drink all over her hand in the process. She ignores it, instead watching James, something entirely too knowing in her eyes. “Still playing hard to get?”

He arches an eyebrow at her, before taking a small sip of his cocktail. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, you can drop the act. Ignorance isn’t a good look on you.”

“I really have no idea of what you’re talking about.”

“Men,” she scoffs with a sharp shake of her head. “It’s been less than a week, and you already have half the girls drooling over you. But you don’t seem very interested in any of them.”

James gives her a very pointed stare over the rim of his glass. “That’s because I’m not. I have a girlfriend.”

“So?” Marlene retorts, lips spreading into a lazy grin.

“So,” James repeats back at her, his voice taking on a pretentious edge that reminds him of Sirius, “I have no intentions of cheating on her. I’ll have you know, me and Lily are very happy—”

“Boring,” Marlene cuts him off, drawling the word and raising her voice. “There’s gotta be at least one of the tempters that you like.”

“I like all of you,” James replies calmly. “Just not like that.”

Marlene makes a show of rolling her eyes. Then she finishes the rest of her drink in one big gulp, carelessly dropping the glass on the floor. James watches in mild concern, relieved when the glass doesn’t break.

“Well, aren’t you a goddamn sweetheart,” she huffs out, words sharply laced with sarcasm. “At least tell me who’s your favourite so far. And just so you know, I’m gonna be incredibly offended if it isn’t me.”

That drags a tiny snort out of James, his shoulders relaxing considerably as he leans back slightly against the lounger.

“And why’s that, McKinnon?” he inquires, the corners of his mouth ticking up. “Are you admitting to being one of those girls drooling over me?”

She cackles loudly and obnoxiously, to the point where James is unsure if he should join in or just feel offended. By the time her laughter dies down, Marlene is even wiping away fake tears from the corners of her eyes.

“You fucking wish,” she tells him, pulling at the hem of her dress distractedly. The garment is a pretty green that falls loosely around her body. It’s not that short, especially compared to some of the other girls’ outfits, but Marlene looks a bit uncomfortable. “Knowledge is power, Potter. Some of the tempters would probably kill to know which one of them you fancy the most.”

“Now you’re just exaggerating.” James shakes his head, amused. “And I told you, I don’t fancy—”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re very in love with Lily and you’re gonna buy her a house—”

“I mean, technically, I sort of already did—”

“Holy shit. Of course you’re also bloody rich—”

“I’m not! All that money is my parent—”

“That’s the definition of being rich, Potter. Their money is your money. Or it will be, someday.”

James lowers his head, suddenly fascinated with his lap as his cheeks heat up slightly. He’s never denied that he’s wealthy and has never wanted for anything. He’s very aware of how lucky he is in that regard, and he does his best to not take it for granted.

But he used to act like an entitled prick not that long ago, even if it was a bit unconsciously, so he can’t help but feel a bit ashamed whenever the topic is brought up in any context.

“I guess,” he murmurs, still refusing to meet Marlene’s gaze.

“You’re a real catch, huh?” she says, tone becoming a little playful. “No wonder Lily has been with you for so long. I wouldn’t wanna let you go either.”

James snaps his head up, the beginning of a frown making itself present on his face.

“It’s not like that,” he mumbles.

Marlene huffs, but it sounds more amused than annoyed. “I know, James. I’m just teasing. I really think that what you and Lily have is precious, and hard to find nowadays. I hope you both get out of this shitshow hand in hand.”

“I hope so too,” James sighs, helpless to the way his mouth spreads into a pleased smile at the thought of leaving here happy.

“I actually don’t know why the hell you’re here in the first place.” Marlene closes her eyes momentarily, exhaling loudly through her nose. “You and Reg both, it doesn’t make any sense—”

James immediately perks up at the mention of the other boy, his train of thought from earlier barrelling back in full force and his mouth opening before he has the chance to think better of it. “Reg?” he asks, maybe a bit too loud and definitely too eager.

Marlene cocks her head to the side so sharply, the movement musses up her short, dyed blonde hair.

“Yeah, we were chatting when the party first started. He was telling me about his girlfriend,” she explains, shrugging. “He’s not as soppy as you, that’s for sure, but it’s obvious he really cares about her. Teasing him is a lot more fun than teasing you, though. Man, he’s vicious—”

“Where is he?” James interrupts a bit more forcefully than he intended. He clears his throat a little when he watches the way Marlene is looking at him, eyebrows slowly but surely climbing up. “I mean, I haven’t seen him since we all sat down to watch that film after lunch, and I thought—I just assumed he wasn’t gonna join the party.”

Marlene takes a bit to respond, as if she’s struggling to process everything that’s coming out of James’ mouth.

“He’s over there,” is what she ends up saying, pointing somewhere past the pool with her chin. James follows the movement, and despite the darkness, he doesn’t have a hard time locating Regulus. James’ eyes lock onto him right away, magnetised: he’s sitting on the edge of the hot tub, feet idly splashing in the water. “I think I scared him away when I asked him for a dance.”

James is nodding along, but he’s only half-listening to what Marlene is saying. He stopped paying attention the moment he caught sight of Regulus. He’s already standing up before she’s finished talking, half-heartedly waving behind him as he makes his way towards Regulus.

He thinks she screams something at him, but James is too focused on the boy in front of him to register the words.

It doesn’t take long to reach him. He’s removed from the party but not hiding, and it’s considerably quieter where Regulus is sitting, the muffled music and everyone’s voices blurring together into white noise in the background. Regulus is gliding his feet through the softly bubbling water, grey eyes unfocused and fixed on the movement, his face carefully blank. James realises that Regulus may physically be here, but his mind is somewhere very, very far away.

He doesn’t notice he has company until James is plopping down right next to him, making sure to leave some space between their bodies.

Regulus startles, arms raised like he’s defending himself from some kind of attack. James leans back, putting his hands up in a silent apology as he blinks rapidly at Regulus, feeling equally surprised.

The other man only seems to relax a little when he realises who it is, arms falling to his sides and hands resting on his lap. Tightly wound tension still lingers in his frame: Regulus is sitting far too straight, his shoulders so rigid they’re nearly touching his ears.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” James murmurs softly, watching the way Regulus’ expression twists into a grimace for a second before it turns carefully blank.

“It’s fine,” Regulus mumbles in response, squirming in his seat. One of his hands reaches over to grab the half-empty glass on his other side, and James watches as Regulus brings it to his lips for a brief sip. “I just wasn’t expecting you. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“Yeah, you seemed a bit out of it,” James sighs, looking away and glancing at where the party was still happening. “Hiding away?”

Regulus huffs, but it’s a tired, resigned sound. “Kind of. I got a little overwhelmed. I needed to step out for a sec.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” James turns his head, going back to watching Regulus. He considers leaning over to peek at his face full-on, but thinks better of it, content with just studying his side profile. “And Marlene told me she was pestering you and trying to get you to dance, so I don’t blame you.”

An amused noise slips past Regulus’ lips, and it suspiciously resembles a laugh. He seems even more surprised than James is by it.

“It’s not all on her,” he sighs, schooling his expression back into something more neutral. “I’m not big on parties.”

“Yeah, that tracks,” James says without missing a beat, and it’s sort of comical, how Regulus’ whips his head around at his words, eyes narrowing slightly.

“And what do you exactly mean by that, hmm?”

James raises both of his hands in mock surrender, putting on his most charming smile, even though he doesn’t think it has any effect on Regulus, considering how unimpressed he looks. Still, James is nothing if not relentless, so he’s not about to give up just yet.

He thinks that, with enough time, it might manage to soften up Regulus a little. And James can definitely work with that.

“Nothing bad, I swear,” he insists, keeping his hands up for a few extra seconds, just in case. “You just don’t seem like the type who’s fond of people in general. I imagine that being surrounded by many of them, especially when they’re drunk, isn’t the most appealing scenario.”

Regulus blows out a long breath, his whole body deflating as the air escapes him. He looks a bit less defensive now, his whole face relaxing.

“You’re right,” he concedes, although it seems like it pains him to say. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy going out sometimes, me and Dorcas party occasionally, but.” Regulus stops abruptly, shaking his head before he wraps his arms around himself. It makes him appear a lot smaller, despite his height being on the taller side. “I don’t know. It feels different here. Without her.”

James’ heart does something odd at his words, and has to actively keep himself from reaching out. Regulus has been set on maintaining a certain distance from all of them, both physically and emotionally, and James doesn’t want to cross any boundaries, even if it’s in an attempt to comfort him in the way he knows best.

“I understand,” he murmurs, and really, he does. Nothing feels quite right when Lily isn’t there, at his side. He’s having fun, sure, and he’s happy he’s making such good friends, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss her.

Regulus glances at him by the corner of his eye, and despite his lack of comment, James doesn’t have trouble sensing his disbelief.

“Okay,” James continues in a huff, barely repressing a roll of his eyes. “Maybe I don’t understand the part of not enjoying parties, because I am, in fact, very fond of them.”

“Shocker,” Regulus mutters.

“But,” James continues pointedly, “I do get what it’s like to miss your girlfriend to the point you can’t completely let yourself have fun. It’s not for lack of trying, it’s just—there’s something missing.”

Regulus flinches, but does his best to cover it with a shift of his position and a forced cough. James pretends to believe the charade, but his hand closes into a fist with the need to touch and console and show Regulus that he’s there, that he can lean on him if he needs it, because James is also dying to be able to lean on someone.

He’s aware that he has the others, too, and Kingsley, Peter and Frank have been absolutely delightful—especially Frank, who is slightly older and probably the most mature of them all, James truly feels like he can confide in him. But they don’t seem as empty as James feels about their partners not being there. And James thinks it’s normal, it hasn’t even been a week and they’re focusing on having fun, on getting to know the girls and living the full experience.

Except they haven’t even been here a week and James is already feeling more than a little lost. Most of the time, he doesn’t have enough time to give it too much thought. He doesn’t have the time, with all the activities the show has planned for them. There’s always something going on, keeping his mind distracted and his attention on anything that isn’t Lily related.

But there are moments. Moments like this one. When he’s lying on his bed late at night, unable to fall asleep because his thoughts are too loud and they refuse to shut up. When a memory of Lily slips in, and James can’t help but pull at it, until she’s flooding his brain and makes it impossible to focus for the rest of the day.

He hasn’t mentioned any of this to the guys, both embarrassed and unsure whether they’d understand. He fears they might just think he’s obsessive, or that he doesn’t trust her. But it’s not that, it’s not about that. James doesn’t necessarily miss Lily in a romantic context; he just misses the peace and safety her presence always gives him, the stability and the security. They’ve been together for so long, and friends for even longer, and this is the first time they’ve been apart like this.

James doesn’t know how he’s going to do this for nearly two months.

He chances a quick glance at Regulus, something in him settling when he catches his eye. He can’t help but see himself in Regulus, sometimes. James is aware that they’re quite different people, especially when it comes to their personalities, but he looks as lost as James has been feeling these past few days. Like he doesn’t exactly belong, always watching from the outside, unable to join in.

More often than not, though, James isn’t convinced Regulus even wants to join in.

“And it’s not about needing your partner to be there with you all the time, that wouldn’t be healthy either, but it’s so weird.” James sighs quietly, running a hand through his hair and tilting his head back, looking at the dark sky. He can’t see any stars tonight. It makes him miss Sirius. “I think it also makes it harder to forget why we’re here. The kind of show we’re participating in. Like, all of the girls are lovely, and so much fun, and I don’t have any issues living with them. But, deep down, I’m aware they don’t have good intentions, exactly, so whenever they attempt to get closer I’m always wondering if they’re meaning what they’re saying or if they’re just—well, you know—”

“Hoping they’ll get you to bend them over and fuck them into oblivion?” Regulus finishes for him drily, and James proceeds to choke on his own spit, most definitely looking and sounding like a dying animal. “Oh, come on, that reaction is a bit overkill. I didn’t take you for a prude, Potter.”

“I’m not,” he wheezes, swatting himself in the chest. “I’m really not. I just wasn’t expecting you to, to be so crude about the whole thing—”

“Well, sorry for not beating around the bush.” Regulus wrinkles his nose, and James finally manages to take a full breath, still panting slightly. “I didn’t know it’d offend your delicate sensibilities.”

“Shut up,” James groans, head hanging low as he does his best to get as much oxygen as possible inside his lungs. “It took me by surprise, okay? You never participate when any of us talks about sex—”

“Because it’s private,” Regulus snips back, crossing his arms. “You’re all strangers to me, and I don’t wanna share any preferences or stories about my sexual life—”

“Which is completely valid,” James interrupts him, hoping he sounds as earnest as he feels. “I merely assumed it was because it was a subject that made you uncomfortable, or that maybe you weren’t a fan of it. One of my patients is like that, actually.”

“Asexual?” Regulus murmurs, and James nods quickly. “Yeah, one of my coworkers is, too. But I can assure you, that’s not me. I’m not big on oversharing, especially not about something as personal as sex, but I definitely enjoy it. And I enjoy it a lot.”

James squirms a bit in his seat, something in that statement making his stomach give a little pull. Warmth builds under his skin, and he moves closer to the edge of the hot tub, hoping that more water around his legs will help to calm him down a little.

“That’s—” James pauses and clears his throat, making a point of not looking at Regulus. “That’s, um, good. Really good, in fact—”

“You’re being so fucking weird right now.”

“I’m not! I’m so not! I’m being my usual, normal self—”

“Are you drunk? Is that it?” Regulus sounds more than a little confused, and when James finally dares to take a peek, his cheeks uncomfortably hot, he finds Regulus watching him with a frown.

“This is my first drink!” James exclaims, voice going high-pitched as he raises his still half-full glass.

Regulus’ eyebrows shoot up. “I’m not sure I should trust you.”

“I swear!” James insists, hating the whiny quality in his tone. “Believe me, if I was drunk you’d know. I get very loud, and overbearing. Quite affectionate, too.”

“So, business as usual?”

James huffs, but he can feel the corners of his mouth twitching. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“What’s up, then? Since you can’t blame it on the alcohol?” There’s a certain amused glow in Regulus’ steely eyes, and James thinks this is the most open he’s ever seen the other man since they arrived.

He can’t help but wonder if maybe Regulus is the one who’s had a bit too much to drink.

“It’s nothing, really, but I don’t—I just didn’t think the conversation was gonna take such a turn,” James sighs, scratching the back of his neck distractedly. “It’s not about the sex part of it, but I’m not comfortable with talking about the girls, any of them, like that.”

Regulus’ face does something odd at James’ words. He could swear that his expression softens momentarily, but then he’s averting his gaze and letting out a scoff, and the moment is broken. James doesn’t know if he imagined it, or simply saw wrong.

“It’s literally their job, Potter,” Regulus reminds him, not kindly but not harshly either. “They get paid to seduce you. I’m sure they’re all lovely people, but they’re here to get you to cheat. Of course, it’s all up to you in the end, they won’t do anything you don’t want to, but—” Regulus stops for a second, and James turns his head just in time to see him pinch the bridge of his nose. “My point is that they all have ulterior motives. It doesn’t matter how nice they’re being, or even if they act like they’re okay with just being friends, it’s all a lie.”

James’ jaw clenches, teeth gritted so hard the side of his face aches. Regulus isn’t looking at him, always avoidant, always scared, but James can still see the determination in his expression. He means every word, and James hates it. He hates it because it’s mean, unnecessarily so, and ridiculously judgemental. He himself feels more than a little conflicted about the show, tempters included, but they’re just people, too—he shouldn’t—

“I don’t believe you,” James enunciates slowly, making sure there’s no space for doubt in his voice.

Regulus presses his lips into a thin line, and shifts his body until he’s properly facing James. One of the straps of his long tunic keeps sliding off his shoulder, and James’ attention is slipping because of it, his eyes glancing down every few seconds.

“You don’t believe me or you don’t want to believe me?” Regulus asks sharply, and it makes a furrow appear between James’ eyebrows.

“Regulus—” he begins, a warning hiding somewhere in the name.

“Because these are just the facts, James,” Regulus continues, ruthless, not even blinking as he glares at him with all his might. “You can’t change them, no matter how much you want to, no matter how much you refuse to—”

“Why are you being so fucking mean?” James asks, confused and growing agitated for it. “Huh? Where is this even coming from?”

“Because it’s been nearly a week, the first Bonfire is approaching, and you clearly need to hear it—”

“Bullshit. You’re being purposefully cruel—”

“No, I’m really not, I’m only being honest—”

“Oh, yeah?” James offers him a mirthless smile. “You really think that low of them all?”

The fiery glow in Regulus’ gaze seems to dim considerably, and he clicks his tongue, mouth twisting. “It’s not about thinking low of anyone, James. I fucking told you, it’s just their job and you shouldn’t fall for their whole act—”

“Marlene happily listening to you rant about Dorcas is an act?” James questions, and it surprises even him, how calm he suddenly manages to sound. “Lucinda always trying to include you in conversations is an act? Hestia saving you a piece of cake before it ran out after lunch because you mentioned you have a sweet tooth is an act?”

Regulus parts his lips, but not a single noise slips through them. He presses them together, before opening his mouth once more, and yet, he doesn’t manage to utter a single word. In the end, he simply looks away, a storm raging in his eyes as he chooses to focus on the warm water in front of him, black curls obscuring his expression.

Somehow, the blatant defeat taking over Regulus’ body softens James up, and before he realises, all his frustration is gone. Now he just wants to wrap his arms around Regulus, pull him closer and apologise, even though James doesn’t have anything to be sorry for.

“Do you really think they’re all pretending?” James says gently, lowering his voice despite no one being close enough to hear. “That they only care about getting in our pants?”

Regulus rolls his lower lip between his teeth, eyes still firmly set on the water, before he gives a small shake of his head.

James sighs, and he isn’t sure himself if it’s out of relief or exhaustion. “Then why start an argument with me? Why say all those terrible things if you don’t—?”

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt,” Regulus admits quickly, words tumbling out of his mouth helplessly. He ducks his head further, until James can’t see his face at all. “I’ve seen how well you get along with everyone, how much you genuinely appreciate them, and their friendship, and I just—I’m afraid it’ll end up badly. This isn’t—you can’t trust anyone, James. Not here.”

James can almost feel how his heart cracks, barely repressing the urge to clutch at his chest, fingers digging on the skin and doing their best to dull the ache. He leans forward, desperately searching for Regulus’ face, for his eyes, but the other man turns away, cowering from James, running away from his knowing gaze.

He watches as Regulus grabs his glass and gulps down what’s left of his drink, wiping his lips with the back of his hand once he’s done. James doesn’t even get a glimpse at the expression he’s wearing before Regulus is once again turning his back on him. To make matters worse, he begins to move, clearly in an attempt to leave and possibly go up to his room, putting an end to both their conversation and his time at the party.

James is acting before he can even stop to think about it.

One second he’s sitting at the edge of the hot tub, and the next one he’s jumping inside, the water up to his waist. James only has to take a couple of strides until he’s standing right in front of Regulus, who had frozen in place the moment James had slipped into the water, eyes wide and mouth open like a deer caught in the headlights.

Before Regulus can come to his senses, James presses closer, hands bracketing his hips and trapping where he’s sitting. Regulus even spreads his legs to accommodate him better, most definitely unconsciously, and that’s what seems to pull him out of his daze. He blinks, glances briefly at his lap, and then pink begins to climb up his neck, face twisting into utter bafflement before he raises his head and meets James’ eyes head on.

“Reg—”

“What the fuck are you—”

“Regulus.”

That manages to shut him up, although James isn’t sure if it’s the harshness of his tone or the way he says the word like it’s an order. Regardless, it works, even though Regulus doesn’t seem very happy about it, with how he’s gritting his teeth and staring at James like he’s hoping he’d keel over at any second.

“I’ll be fine, okay?” he begins, forcing his voice to become smoother, softer. Regulus’ lips part almost immediately, but James raises a hand, silencing him even before he can speak. “No, listen to me. I know you’re just trying to look out for me, be a good friend in your own way, and I appreciate it. I really do. But I don’t need it. I know what I’m doing.”

Regulus scoffs loudly, crossing his arms over his chest as he squints his eyes at James, and it nearly drags a smile out of him.

“I do,” James insists, not daring to blink a single time, hazel eyes fixed on Regulus’ silver ones. “I knew what I was getting into, and me being nice doesn’t mean I’m also naive. But the thing is, none of the girls have given me any reasons to not trust them. They’ve been kind to me, they make me laugh, and they never push too much. I won’t change my attitude towards them based on a what-if.”

Regulus frowns, but this time it doesn’t look angry, or annoyed. It’s merely confused, maybe even a little concerned, although James thinks he might be reading too much into it.

“But—” he starts to protest.

“No ‘buts’,” James cuts him firmly, the corners of his mouth pulling up in half a grin. “I’m not a helpless child, Reg. While you being so worried is very sweet—”

“Who’s worried?” Regulus grumbles, lower lip coming out slightly while he briefly looks away, frown worsening. “I don’t care that much, I’m just trying to be a decent person—”

“I know, and I appreciate it. It just doesn’t have to be done at the expense of some very nice people,” James finishes gently. He raises a hand just to tap his fingers lightly against Regulus’ shin, getting him to meet his gaze once more. “Contrary to what you may believe, I’m not an idiot. If anyone tries to take advantage, or does anything I don’t like, I’ll shut it down immediately. I’m not afraid to call people out on their bullshit, you know?”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Regulus mumbles in a sigh, but James could swear he’s relaxed considerably.

“Good. No more being a prick to me for no reason, then.”

“Believe me, Potter, you give me more than enough reasons to be a prick on a daily basis.”

“Oi!” James protests, but it’s half-hearted at best. Not to mention, his growing smile sort of gives him away. “I’m a delight.”

Regulus snorts, ugly and undignified, and James is immediately obsessed with the sound. He loves to make people laugh, always has, and Regulus is such a tough nut to crack that this feels even more rewarding than usual.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh, shut it. You can’t fool me after making that whole scene.”

Regulus turns his nose up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You like me,” James tells him, feeling a bit giddy at the statement, knowing it’s true. At least, to a certain degree. “We’re friends.”

Regulus makes a choked off noise and shakes his head a couple of times, cheeks tinted a faint red James can’t properly appreciate at night, but Regulus’ complexion is pale enough for it to still be visible, which he’s quite thankful for.

“You wish,” Regulus retorts, but it’s weak and lacks any heat and he’s still blushing.

“I can’t wait to tell the others—”

“Shut up, Potter. Don’t make such a big deal out of it—”

“Back to Potter? I thought I was ‘James’ now—”

“A lapse in judgement. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Says you.”

James grins widely at him, teeth showing. Oh, this is delightful. Regulus is so fucking delightful.

“Your insults don’t hit the same now that I know I’m your favourite person in this house—” James sing-songs, sliding so close his belly is touching the edge of the hot tub, and Regulus’ thighs graze his waist when he shifts slightly.

“Okay, I definitely wouldn’t go that far—” Regulus immediately objects.

“Really? Who’s your favourite, then?”

Regulus bites his lip, glancing to the side as he pretends to think it over. He even tilts his head slightly, and James has to make an active effort to keep himself from bursting into laughter.

“I mean, Marlene is quite funny, and she leaves me alone when I ask her to,” Regulus murmurs, nodding slowly. “And I like Peter. He’s the calmest out of you lot, and the least annoying—”

“Then how come you’re not with him right now, huh?” James butts in, raising an eyebrow playfully. “And how come you didn’t agree to dance with Marlene?”

Regulus thoroughly unimpressed. “You know what? That’s a good idea. I don’t even know why I’m still entertaining your nonsense—”

Before he even has the chance to try and stand up, James clamps his hands down on his thighs. He doesn’t grip too tightly, loosening his hold as soon as he realises what he’s doing, where he’s touching, but he keeps the hands there regardless, the message more than clear.

It’s not exactly skin against skin contact, because the toga Regulus is wearing is on the longer side, unlike James’. However, and to keep it from getting wet, Regulus had hitched the edge of it over his knees, leaving more than half of his legs exposed. James’ hands are big enough to at least cover part of his skin with them. It’s surprisingly cold to the touch, despite the warm night.

Regulus stiffens under his touch, muscle pulling tight against James’ fingers, and he pulls away almost immediately, his palms resting against the stone of the ground a second later. This time, further away from Regulus’ body than they were before they moved on their own accord.

“Sorry,” James rushes to say, brow furrowed. “I didn’t mean to. I’ve noticed you’re not very comfortable with physical contact—”

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re fine, James, I swear. You can—” Regulus reaches out, almost like he’s about to grab James’ hands and put them back where they were, but he stops at the last second, pressing his arms close to his chest, as if burned. “Fuck, I must’ve drank more than I thought…”

James tenses up immediately, concern twisting his features. “What? Reg, are you—”

“Oh my god, Jem, there you are!”

The interruption makes James jump a little, and he takes a step back, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that half of his toga is soaking wet and beginning to cling to his skin. He tilts his head back just to see Emma walking towards them, beaming so widely her eyes are wrinkling at the corners.

She isn’t wearing that pretty, tight dress James saw on her when he first arrived at the party, or the golden laurel wreath that had been adorning her brown hair. Emma had discarded her outfit in favour of a white bikini James has seen her in before, clearly with the idea of taking a dip in the hot tub before heading to bed.

He finds himself smiling a little at the nickname; Emma had told him that she wanted to have a special name for him, something only she used, and she had been ecstatic when James had told her that no one used ‘Jem’ for him. It took a little to get used to, but considering how much time she spends around him, James already responded to it without hesitation after a day.

James isn’t an idiot. He knows she’s flirting with him, playing the long game because she’s noticed how much he cares about a meaningful connection over physical attraction, considering he’s shared quite a bit about Lily and their relationship with her. But the truth is that despite Emma’s intentions, she’s lovely, and always listens in earnest, and never fails to back down when James asks her to. And sure, it might be the bare minimum, but he and Lily watched enough episodes of the show to know it’s definitely not a given on Temptation Island.

He really hopes that they can remain friends, once all of this is over.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Emma huffs out as soon as she reaches the opposite edge of the hot tub. “I assumed you had called it a night.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not even that late. I’ve got better stamina than that,” James protests jokingly, watching her slowly but surely get in the water.

She chuckles, shaking her head softly. “Never said otherwise. But there’s no shame in skipping a party, you know? I’m sure that we’re all gonna be tired of them by the second week.”

“Is that a challenge? Because it sounds like a challenge.”

“Sure, if you want it to be.” Emma’s eyes shine with mischief as she grabs her long hair and ties it all up in a bun at the top of her head, using one of the few ties on her wrist. “Whatever gets you to come to every one of them.”

“Please,” James says with a teasing roll of his eyes. “As if you need me to have fun.”

“I mean, I guess not, but it’s not the same without you, Jem.”

She moves closer to him, but she becomes more careful when they’re finally standing right in front of each other, always watching for James’ reactions. It all still feels so tentative, because Emma wants something James can’t and won’t give her, and if he seeks her friendship, he’s got to establish a few firm boundaries.

Emma hasn’t made him actually uncomfortable just yet, but it’s like they both know it’s bound to happen at some point, and are doing their best to delay it as much as they can.

“You’re sweet,” James says honestly, and Emma’s grin turns the slightest bit wider.

“I try,” she concedes with a tilt of her head, so visibly pleased. “Man, I’m so glad we both had the same idea. I’ve been dying to try the hot tub at night—”

“Actually,” James intervenes, unable to hide his smile, “I had no intentions of taking a dip, but Reg was here, and we were talking—”

“Regulus was here?” Emma asks with a blink, eyebrows shooting up. “I haven’t seen him since the beginning of the party, when he was drinking Marls.”

“What do you mean? He’s right—” James is already turning around, arm raised and about to point, just to find that Regulus isn’t sitting there anymore. He didn’t even hear him leave, and for some reason, James’ mood seems to plummet to the ground at the realisation. “Here,” he finishes lamely, voice going oddly quiet.

Emma pats him pitifully in the arm, before moving to sit in one of the corners of the tub. She makes a vague gesture with her wrist, the invitation clear, and James only doubts for a couple of seconds before he joins her with a sigh.

She presses close to him, but James is quick to put a bit of distance between them, doing his best to be subtle and failing miserably in the process. Emma, however, takes it in stride, and doesn’t attempt to get nearer again. Instead, she begins to talk animatedly about everything James has missed at the party.

While Emma speaks, James searches for Regulus, happier than he’s ever been about his height and how it allows him to scan the house without Emma being none the wiser.

The hot tub isn’t too far away, and James’ glasses sit firmly, if a bit crookedly, in his nose, so it doesn’t take too long to catch sight of Regulus’ receding figure. He’s nearly at the stairs by the time James manages to locate him, shoulders hunched and head hanging low. He seems to be curling a bit into himself as he makes his way up, towards his room.

It takes James a while to look away, even after Regulus has completely disappeared from his line of sight.

He doesn’t sleep very well that night.

***

The first Bonfire ends up being a bit anticlimactic.

Maybe it’s because they’d spent so much time worrying about it, unaware of what their girlfriends have been up to during their first week. They had pretended it didn’t exist, that it wasn’t coming, but it’s been looming over them all regardless, breathing down their necks and reminding them that this had all been the calm before the storm.

James isn’t concerned about Lily, not like some of the other guys are about their respective partners. He trusts her completely, and their issues had never come from lack of commitment, or any form of cheating. It’s the process in itself that unnerves him. He’s aware that this is how the show works, and that all participants consented to be recorded and to have those images be shared and televised, but James still doesn’t like it one bit.

He did it for her. Because Lily was convinced that this was what they needed. One last test before they take the next step in their relationship. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t having fun, because he has been. Most of the time he forgets about the cameras enough that can focus on getting to know the others and enjoy himself. The alarm has only gone off a handful of times, and apart from the first time, when it sent them all into a bit of a frenzy, they’ve rarely reacted to it. The light has been green each time so far, and it’d be hypocritical of them to get upset when the girls’ light has probably been lighting the same colour all week, too.

No one has cheated. James wants to believe that no one ever will. But they’ve been hanging out with people paid to tempt them, some of them getting closer than others, so it makes sense that it’d trip the alarm. He’s come to realise that some of the guys can be quite jealous, so they chose pretty tame boundaries for the green light.

James now thinks that might have been for the best. The innocent triggers for the green alarm mean that they’ve all kept their calm, even when it goes off, since they know it means their partners aren’t doing anything too scandalous. Or, at least, nothing worse than what they’ve all been doing themselves.

And yet, when the Bonfire finally arrives, they’re all ridiculously on edge. Peter spends the whole morning dropping glasses and walking into doors, apologising under his breath and with shoulders hunched up to his ears. Frank looks like a shell of himself, barely talking, never smiling, just walking around aimlessly, gaze lost very far away. And Kingsley has this odd air about him; he still laughs, he still does his best to lighten the mood, but he looks tense, like a rubber band about to snap, and he keeps losing his train of thought during conversations, voice dying and eyes dulling.

Regulus is the only one who appears completely unphased about the whole thing, but James isn’t surprised in the slightest. He’s the only other one who appears to trust his girlfriend completely, never offering a shadow of a doubt when she talks about her, or shares something about their relationship with them all. He still doesn’t open up a lot, something James has found he’s taken on as a bit of a personal challenger. But with each passing day, Regulus seems more relaxed around them, more willing to speak up and join in the activities.

He still keeps a certain distance, though. James does his best to respect it, because he understands Regulus’ reasons a bit better now. Still doesn’t mean he likes it. He wants them to be friends, proper friends, and Regulus seems intent on making it as difficult as possible for James to do so.

Not like James has had a chance to dwell too much on that today. He’s been too busy trying to keep his cool, trying to hide how terribly the Bonfire is also affecting him, while simultaneously doing his best to look after all of his friends.

He doesn’t think he’s been very successful. Not like that’s going to stop his attempts, but it’s been quite discouraging.

The girls have been a great help, surprisingly. None of them have had any luck in turning the mood around, either, but considering James can’t be there to take care of all the other men and himself at the same time, it’s a relief to know his friends are in good hands. It’s like they’ve all but forgotten about seduction tactics and all the flirting; the girls have been gentle and patient, giving them all the space they need with reminders that they’re there if needed.

It had made James a bit emotional to watch. Regulus would probably say that it’s still part of their plan, that they’re adapting their approaches to the changing circumstances. And James gets it, he really does. He just doesn’t agree.

He can only hope that he won’t be proven wrong.

They’ve been told to dress up a little for the Bonfires, so James chose a nice pair of black slacks, a burgundy shirt and a dark blazer. He keeps at least half of the buttons undone, because even at night it’s ridiculously warm on the island. Besides, it’s nothing the others haven’t seen at this point. They spend their days in swimming trunks and lounging by the pool, fighting the heat as best as they can. James doesn’t think it’ll be a problem. He still looks nice and fancy enough, even if his chest is mostly exposed.

When he makes his way downstairs and steps outside of the house, he discovers that a massive dark blue car is already waiting for them, its brand-new waxy paint reflecting an almost perfect image of the house back at him. James leans down slightly to greet the driver with respective head nods, and then straightens up to find himself face to face with Regulus.

He’s leaning against the side of the car, fiddling with the hem of his short-sleeved white shirt. He’s wearing grey slacks that fit him perfectly, and his curls look shiny and more tame, like he’s made an effort to properly brush and style them. He looks handsome, which isn’t unusual, but there’s a certain elegance in how he’s holding himself; Regulus seems a bit nervous, but he wears being dressed up so easily, with a confidence James hasn’t really yet seen on him. Almost as if he finds some sense of comfort in all the preening, in all the luxury.

James manages to take a couple of steps towards him before Regulus notices his presence. He snaps his head up, expression nearly alarmed until he realises it’s just James. He relaxes almost immediately, eyes travelling up and down James’ body for a couple of seconds until they finally settle on his face. Regulus gives him a tiny nod and then he’s opening the backseat door and getting inside.

He can do nothing else but follow.

James sits right next to Regulus, but doesn’t attempt any small talk. He feels like the other man wouldn’t appreciate it, and if he’s being honest, he isn’t really in the mood. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, fortunately, even though James has never been a big fan of it. He isn’t sure if it’s thanks to Regulus, or the situation. Whatever the reason, they don’t dare break it.

It doesn’t take long for the others to join them, and they do so as silently as them. Peter is concerningly pale, and Frank’s hands are shaking while he fastens his seatbelt. The car is still silent, nerves too high for any kind of conversation. At some point, James catches Kingsley’s eyes, and the blankness of his expression sends a shiver down his spine. He doesn’t even manage half a smile.

It stays like that for the entire journey. Fifteen minutes of excruciating, anxious quiet, the soft rumble of tyres on packed dirt the only noticeable sound.

Once they arrive, Evan is already waiting for them in a black, unassuming suit. He barely spares them a glance, and doesn’t waste his time with greetings before he turns and starts walking, not once checking to see if they’re following.

James doesn’t like Evan very much. But then again, he also isn’t fond of his sister, either. He’s aware that he’s being irrational, considering neither sibling has done anything to him. Evan hasn’t said a single word to James, and Pandora has been kind and polite since the beginning. Still, James can’t shake the feeling that they can’t be trusted. And perhaps he’s letting his dislike for the show influence his opinion, but his gut has been telling him to keep his distance. That’s exactly what James intends to do.

Evan doesn’t take them to the actual Bonfire pit. He doesn’t give any explanation, just shakes his head while they all stare at him expectantly. When no one moves, he makes a wide motion with his hand, signalling the path illuminated by torches in front of them. Following Evan’s hand, James peers down the pathway and thinks he can see a handful of stools with a tablet in front of them. It’s a familiar sight. He remembers seeing it quite often, during his and Lily’s viewing of the show.

Evan leaves a moment later, so quietly James doesn’t think he would’ve noticed if he hadn’t happened to turn his head right then to ask the man a question. He isn’t surprised they’re being left alone with little explanation, but it doesn’t stop him pursing his lips in disappointment.

They stand there, uncertain and wary and afraid of what’s waiting for them at the end of the pathway, for what might be one minute or what might be ten. James swallows thickly, his nerves and the silence starting to become unbearable. When he takes a peek to his right, he finds Peter with his eyes fixed on the ground, Frank with his hands curled into fists. None of them have said a single word since they left the house.

None of them have made a move towards the tablet and stools, the silence made even more eerie for how still they’re standing. James thinks he might go crazy for it—he never was one for keeping to himself for too long, for keeping so still. His own dread keeps him rooted to the spot, keeps him unusually quiet. He needs someone else to take the lead on this one, and do it soon.

In the end, it’s Regulus who moves first, letting out a long-suffering sigh as he begins to make his way down the path. He holds his head high, shoulders pushed back, arms relaxed and resting calmly at his sides. He’s the perfect picture of indifference, of fortitude. And even though James doesn’t think he’s doing it for any of them, Regulus’ actions are enough to give the rest of them the push they so desperately need.

James gapes at his back for a moment before he rushes to follow. A quick look thrown over shoulder tells him he isn’t the only one.

He catches up to Regulus when they’re both almost to the end, but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Pandora appears in his field of vision. She has her platinum hair in a long braid that falls over her chest, nearly reaching her belly. She’s wearing a dark purple strapless dress that compliments her brown skin beautifully, and her lips are painted a deep magenta. There’s some glitter covering her eyelids and the apples of her cheeks, and all of a sudden, James feels ridiculously underdressed, despite wearing one of his nicest outfits.

“Welcome, everyone, to your first Bonfire,” she says, opening her arms wide, a certain glint appearing in her eyes. “Please, take a seat. We have a lot to catch up on.”

They do, and James is unsurprised to discover the stools are assigned, their names written inconspicuously on the top of each one. The three stools in the back row are slightly taller than the two in front, tiered so everyone can see the tablet without issue.

James’ seat is in the back right corner, next to Frank. He’s pleased to see that Regulus is in front of him, posture flawless as he sits down on the stool.

“First, I think congratulations are in order,” Pandora comments as soon as they’re all in position. “You’ve made it through your first week on Temptation Island, and that’s certainly a reason for celebration. Peter, how have these past days been like for you?”

He zones out a little when his friend stutters around his reply. James doesn’t even think he listens to most of the conversation, to the point he has no idea of what comes out of his mouth when Pandora finally addresses him. She asks about his worries, about what he’s hoping to see when they show him Lily’s images, and James believes he murmurs something about wanting to see his girlfriend having as much fun as possible.

There’s no way to be sure, really, considering how disappointed Pandora looks once he finishes.

James only comes back to his senses when the tablet starts playing, and it’s simply because the guys need him, and James refuses to fail them now.

Kingsley is the first one to watch the images. Sybill appears to be a bit in her own world during the first handful of clips, mostly keeping to herself and the other girls. She seems to get along nicely with Lily, which fills James with joy, and they spend quite a lot of time together.

There’s a moment where Sybill mentions she has a bad feeling about Kingsley and what he might do during his time on the show, and James watches him go stiff, lips pursed in a grimace. They all reach for Kingsley at the same time, hands gripping his thigh and fingers interlacing with his. James has to stretch his body a bit to make it, but he manages to press his palm against the small of his back, caressing it lightly.

Towards the end of the video, Sybill seems to be getting friendly with one of the tempters, a guy called Benjy. Kingsley tenses up momentarily, but then the tablet goes dark, Pandora informs him that there aren’t more clips for him to see, and he exhales softly as his whole body sags.

When Pandora asks him about what he’d just watched, Kingsley tries to laugh it off, joking about the video and insisting that he hasn’t seen anything concerning. But his voice sounds strained, and his grin looks forced through the whole exchange.

Frank’s images are kind of devastating. Alice is very clearly struggling, often speaking about how much she misses his boyfriend, even refusing to join the first party of the week and instead spending it crying in bed. James can only pat Frank softly in the back while he watches his friend crumble at the different clips.

Towards the end, she finally seems to cheer up a little, but even that is bittersweet, considering is one of the tempters, Amos, who coaxes her out of her shell.

Then it’s Regulus’ turn, and even though all of them offer him some words of support, no one tries to touch him, each of them having learned their lesson over the course of the week. Still, it breaks James’ heart a little, to not offer comfort the best way he knows how. He has to dig his nails harshly into his legs to keep himself from doing something stupid.

It turns out, however, that there was nothing to worry about. Regulus’ video is probably the shortest, because there’s nothing interesting to see, really, and Dorcas is perfect throughout the whole thing. She gets along well with all of the girls, especially with Lily and Mary. She gets drunk and has fun—but always without going too far—and keeps a certain distance from all of the tempters. She’s very clearly uninterested; doesn’t even seem to have a favourite one.

Once it’s over, Regulus is left with a soft grin curving up his lips, while the others stare at the tablet in absolute awe.

Peter is the one who ends up the most upset. Mary is the life of the party, which drags a little chuckle out of him, satisfied to see his girlfriend enjoying herself so much. But then he has to watch her act a bit flirty with a guy called Fabian, always stopping him when he gets too bold but still playing along. By the time all the clips are over, Peter seems like he’s about to be sick, and James has to resist the urge to get up and wrap his arms around him.

He’s still watching Peter with a frown, hand squeezing his shoulder tightly, when his turn finally arrives.

“Do you wanna watch your images alone or with the others?” Pandora asks him, following the script without faltering.

“With the others,” James replies immediately, just like his friends did before him.

Pandora nods with a placid smile, and then they’re all turning towards the tablet. Everyone but Regulus makes sure they’re touching him somewhere, showing him support.

James sees exactly what he had expected, and yet, he’s unable to relax at all as the video plays out. Lily is good friends with all of the girls, always sure to check on them whenever they seem to be a little down. She makes them laugh and comes up with plans to keep them entertained, to keep them distracted. She talks about him, too, although she does seem to avoid the topic slightly, especially in the final clips.

Lily is also kind to the tempters. James sees her joke around with them, but she never gets too close and shuts down any attempts at flirting that aren’t playful, or harmless. However, James can tell she’s quite fond of a bloke called Barty, who James decides he hates after listening to him make one too many suggestive comments about Lily. James doesn’t even think it’s due to jealousy—he genuinely doesn’t like his attitude. Or how much of a pervert he seems to be.

Lily doesn’t encourage him, exactly, but James knows her enough to be able to tell he amuses her. She wouldn’t keep him around otherwise.

As the video goes on, and it’s made clear that Lily is on her best behaviour, one by one all of the guys pull away, deciding that James doesn’t really need all that support considering he’s not reacting badly to what he’s seeing.

James supposes he should take it as a compliment, and the truth is that Lily’s images should be enough to help him relax, to vanish all of his fears and irrational worries. But James despises every second of it, itching to turn the tablet off. He’d look away, if he didn’t know that Pandora would definitely scold him.

He lets out a shaky exhale, and shifts a little in his seat, forcing a smile while they all watch. James wants to crawl out of his skin, fingers twitching against the material of his slacks, wanting to grip and tear.

And then, all of a sudden, there’s a hand covering his, the touch light but very much there.

He doesn’t startle, but he does blink a few times, glancing down to his lap with wide eyes. Discovering Regulus is the one responsible for the gentle touch only manages to shock him further, and he has to repress the instinct to pinch his own arm.

James stares at Regulus’ side profile, but his expression is completely blank, and he doesn’t look away from the tablet for a single second. His gaze is bored, almost cold, as he watches James’ images, and it gives him a bit of whiplash because of how softly he’s touching him. His thumb caresses the back of his palm slowly, distractedly, soothing the restless part of James that can’t wait to get out of here.

His chest feels ready to explode, but in the best way possible.

He turns his hand, seeing Regulus’ mouth twitch minutely at the action, but before the other man can take it the wrong way, or even consider pulling away, James interlaces their fingers. He doesn’t hold on too tightly, making sure Regulus knows he can take his hand away whenever he wants, but James only receives a little squeeze in response, and then Regulus’ thumb is resuming its movement.

When James focuses on the tablet once again, the smile on his face is genuine.

Chapter Text

The music is loud enough that Regulus can already feel the headache coming. You’d think that after more than a week he’d already be more than used to it, considering how often there’s parties at night. He thinks there would be one every single day if at least half of them didn’t need a day or two to nurse their hangovers and rest.

Not like Regulus would know. He’s been very careful about the amount of alcohol he puts in his body. He can still remember that stupid Ancient Greece themed party, how embarrassing he had acted around James simply because he’d been a little tipsy. He refuses to take that risk again.

Regardless, he’s thankful for how much the rest of the guys seem to enjoy getting absolutely plastered, because it means he doesn’t have to endure this torture on a daily basis. And yes, he’s aware that he’s being more than a little dramatic, but there are reasons why he isn’t a big fan of partying, or going clubbing. The noise being one of them, and the people being another.

He supposes it’s not even that bad here, considering there’s less than twenty people living in the house, and the place is big enough that if he wants to go to bed before anyone else, he can do so without worrying about the music reaching his room and interrupting his sleep. But it’s still annoying, with all the girls flirting with him left and right, asking him to dance, and all the men being… well, men. Very nice, a little funny sometimes, but still way too straight for Regulus to stand. Maybe if he didn’t have to pretend to be straight himself he’d enjoy their company a lot better. But the circumstances make hanging out with them for long periods of time nothing short of unbearable.

Peter might be the one he tolerates the most, really, because he doesn’t speak half as much nonsense as the others, and seems to have other topics of conversation apart from his girlfriend and the tempters. At least, that always seems to be the case when he and Regulus are on their own, talking quietly while the others swim in the pool.

There’s also James, of course. James, who Regulus has found himself growing absurdly fond of at an alarming rate, but whose presence might be the most excruciating for entirely different reasons. He’s been making an active effort to keep a certain distance from James, and to avoid being in rooms alone with him. It hasn’t proven to be that hard, surprisingly, considering Emma seems to be attached at his hip.

Like right now, for example. They’re in the middle of the living room, dancing alongside everyone else, and even if they’re not standing as close as Peter and Emmeline, they still look quite cosy. James is twirling her around, and she keeps giggling at everything he says. It can’t be that funny. Given the time of night, James must be, at the very least, heavily tipsy. Regulus doubts he’s making enough sense, to elicit that kind of breathless laughter, anyway.

Not like Regulus cares. He doesn’t. At all. It’d be real stupid of him to feel any jealousy where James is involved, considering he has a girlfriend and he’s straight. Sure, objectively speaking, Emma has more of a chance with him than Regulus ever could, but with James being so righteous and so annoyingly in love with Lily, they might as well be stuck on the same spot.

It’s a bit weird, really, because despite Regulus refusing to trust any of these men and their so-called affection for their girlfriends, no matter how genuine it looks, James does seem like a decent enough person to never cheat. Not because he’s only interested in his girlfriend, although that’s also a part of it, but because he just… isn’t the type to do that to someone.

Especially not to someone he cares so deeply about. Regulus can’t help but admire it. He doesn’t think there are a lot of people like James left in the world, especially given most of them would probably never even consider participating in this mess of a show.

But then again, he’s watched stronger men than James ending up falling for the tempters’ tactics before, so who’s to say. Regulus wants to believe in him, more than anything, regardless of his personal feelings on the matter. He’s counting on James coming out of this experience hand in hand with Lily, and he doesn’t think he’s the only one. But the truth is that appearances can be deceiving, and sometimes, a brief moment of weakness or a tiny lapse in judgement can be a person’s undoing on Temptation Island.

So, James might not seem like the type who’d let himself go, especially for some temporary sexual relief, but Regulus has to remind himself that he doesn’t know him that well, not really. Not yet. He could be playing a role, doing his best to earn everyone’s trust and sympathy so no one judges him too harshly when he finally betrays his girlfriend. Regulus doesn’t think so, doesn’t want to think so, but he can’t be sure.

There’s no point in getting to know these people, in earning their friendship or their loyalty. It’s never going to end well, because it’s not meant to. The show’s sole purpose is to exploit people and their personal relationships so it can entertain an audience that finds others’ suffering fascinating—yes, himself included. It’d be incredibly dumb to pretend otherwise.

Regulus is doing his best to never forget why he’s here. How much he actually despises this show and what it represents.

It’s just that not getting attached is proving out to be a lot more complicated than he originally thought.

“Being a weirdo again?” A voice Regulus has become quite familiar with questions in a drawl. It’s followed by a weight settling right next to him on the couch, and he doesn’t bother to hide the way in which his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Being a stalker again?” he counters, not even sparing Marlene a glance as he takes a small sip of his cocktail.

“You wish,” she snorts with a shake of her head, shifting until she’s leaning back comfortably, legs spread wide. She’s on theme: her bell bottoms, platform boots and low-cut crop top with ridiculously big sleeves all look pulled straight from the 70s. She hasn’t bothered doing anything to her blonde hair, probably because the mullet she wears it in works well with the vibe. Privately, Regulus thinks she should’ve, at least, redyed it. Her roots are a mess. “I feel like you should be thankful. I’m the only one who still tries to keep you company during the parties, you know? You’re a right bore.”

“Then why are you even here?” Regulus scowls against the rim of his glass, slouching slightly and glad that Marlene’s teasing expression isn’t in his line of sight.

“Because whether you like it or not, I’m your friend, and it pains me to see you brooding in a corner like this when everyone is having fun.”

“Friend? Is that an euphemism for wanting to get in my pants?”

Marlene leans forward, pushing Regulus with her own shoulder until he finally turns his head to look at her, annoyance plain on his face. She has an eyebrow raised and the corners of her mouth are curled up in the beginning of a smirk.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Black. You’re not my type,” she tells him, and he sneers at her. He isn’t sure if he should believe her, simply because he’s seen this tactic before, but it still fills him with relief. “I’m just charitable like that, is all. And I do think you can be fun when you’re not acting all moody and dark.”

“I’m a cunt to you most of the time,” Regulus points out. Marlene is the girl he hangs out the most with, but nearly all of their conversations are just them bickering, toeing the line between teasing and full-blown arguing.

“Yeah,” she agrees without missing a beat. “Like I said, fun.”

That drags a little huff out of Regulus, but it’s such an amused noise it almost sounds like a chuckle.

“Now c’mon, stop being such a drag and tell auntie Marls what’s got your knickers in a twist,” Marlene goes on, patting him pitifully on the back.

“Don’t call yourself that ever again,” Regulus murmurs, grimacing.

She chuckles. “Is it joy? Happiness? Is watching others enjoy themselves that annoying to you?”

Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, and closes his eyes for a second. That headache might be making an appearance sooner than he had anticipated.

“Incredibly so,” he deadpans, before taking another gulp of his drink. “And you’re only making matters worse.”

“Oh, shut it, you love me, really.”

“Not even in your fucking dreams—”

“This whole mean and distant act doesn’t work on me, Black, I’ve told you before, so you might as well drop it before you hurt yourself.”

Regulus scoffs, but he relaxes slightly, before leaning back against the couch and finding a better position. Marlene doesn’t attempt to move any closer, which Regulus greatly appreciates. They both keep some space in between their bodies, never risking any touching, not even accidentally.

“It’s not an act,” he ends up grumbling, eyes watching avidly as James pushes Emma away from him slightly, never faltering while they continue dancing. She takes it gracefully, with a shy tilt of her head and offering a sweet smile. He fights the urge to roll his eyes—it’s all clearly so calculated. He gives into it when he sees James offer a small smile in return, Regulus’ stomach twisting in sync with the roll of his eyes. “You just piss me the fuck off. Sorry I can’t find it in myself to be nice.”

“If that were true, you’d already be on your way to your room,” Marlene points out, and Regulus clicks his tongue. “Admit it, Regulus, I’ve got you figured out. You’re like a grumpier, colder version of Potter. So obsessed with your little girlfriend that none of this makes any sort of impact on you.”

“Me and James are nothing alike,” Regulus retorts, wrinkling his nose. And honestly, they aren’t. If only Marlene knew. “This has nothing to do with Dorcas. I’m perfectly capable of having fun without her. I’m just… not very big on parties.”

Marlene feigns a gasp, and Regulus barely resists the need to punch her. “You don’t say,” she exclaims, one of her hands coming to clutch at her chest.

“Forget it,” Regulus hisses, wrapping his arms around himself and turning his head away, lower lip jutting out. “I don’t even know why I—”

“Calm down, I was just teasing.” Marlene draps an arm over the back of the couch, and if it had been anyone else, Regulus would’ve assumed it to be some kind of move. But with Marlene, he knows she’s trying her best to offer quiet comfort. “There’s nothing wrong with not liking parties. I just don’t understand why you’d put yourself through them all instead of staying in your room, or going to bed.”

“We’re gonna be here for over a month, I can’t afford to miss every single one of them. They’re, like, the show’s main thing.”

Marlene hums, tilting her head back until it’s resting against the back of the couch.

“I thought the show’s main thing was the Bonfires.”

“That too,” Regulus concedes. “But they don’t happen as often, and you’re not allowed to skip them, anyway, so it doesn’t count.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Marlene sighs. “But honestly, Reg, no one’s gonna mind if you decide to sit a couple of parties out. You don’t have to force yourself to be here.”

“Who said anything about forcing—”

“You look downright miserable,” Marlene drawls, and Regulus huffs through his nose, sort of feeling like he’s a child throwing a temper tantrum.

“That’s because of you,” Regulus responds primly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, sure,” Marlene says, endlessly entertained. “I’m insufferable and you hate me. Whatever. Anything else?”

Regulus purses his lips, glaring while he continues watching Emma and James. They’ve finally stopped dancing in favour of standing in the middle of the room, talking quietly to each other. They both have a drink in their hands, and she keeps finding any excuse to touch his shoulder, his arms, his chest.

The sight is enough to make his stomach turn again, and Regulus has no other option but to lean forward and leave his half-empty glass on the coffee table. He fears he’d end up throwing up if he takes one more sip.

When he returns to his original position on the couch, he discovers Marlene staring at him with furrowed eyebrows. She isn’t even blinking, like he’s some kind of impossible maths problem she’s doing her best to resolve, and if the blatant flirting on the other side of the room weren’t already making him want to leave, this definitely would.

“What?” Regulus snaps, leaning back and away from Marlene’s knowing gaze. “Do I have something on my face?”

“I’m not sure,” she mumbles, still looking avidly, as if she’s expecting Regulus to give her the answers she’s searching for. “You were upset, and suddenly you got even more upset.”

“I told you, it’s all you—”

“Stop giving me that shit. I know I’m your favourite.”

“My what? Oh, you’re delusional. I can barely stand you.”

“The feeling’s mutual. I meant that I’m your favourite of the girls.”

“You’re fucking delusional—” Regulus repeats, sharply, sliding to the other end of the couch.

“Am I?” Marlene’s expression relaxes into one of her playful smirks, and Regulus is left feeling baffled by how familiar they’re starting to become. “Who are you gonna pick for your date, then?”

Regulus blinks at her, lips parting and closing a few times before he finally manages to produce sound. “What?”

“The date. The first one of three. Don’t tell me you forgot?” she tuts at him with a disappointed shake of her head. “It’s rapidly approaching, and you’re gonna have to choose a tempter to spend it with. Who will it be, if not me?”

Regulus had, in fact, forgotten all about the dates. Usually the first one happens sooner, and after the first week passed with no news from Pandora, he let his guard down, hoping that this was something they were maybe, hopefully, going to change this season. He’s aware that it was a bit of wishful thinking on his part, because the dates are an intrinsic part of the show, especially the last one. But, well, a man can dream, right?

He squints his eyes at Marlene, and opens his mouth, ready to call her a name and tell her to fuck off. But Regulus realises that his mind is completely blank, because she hasn’t spoken with most of the tempters enough to be comfortable going on a date with any of them. Apart from Marlene, Lucinda and Emmeline are the ones who he’s spent any time with, but Emmeline is very clearly interested in Peter, while Lucinda is always making heart eyes at Frank.

The truth is, Regulus hadn’t really been thinking much about it, because that’s what he does. When something scares him, or gives him anxiety, he ignores it for as long as possible. Until it’s too late, and there’s no other option but to face it, even if the only thing he wants to do is run.

He hadn’t been worried about which girl to pick, because that was a problem for future Regulus. Besides, he hadn’t expected to like anyone enough to sincerely want to choose them. He had assumed that he was going to have to select randomly and hope that the date wasn’t a complete mess.

It turns out, though, that his choice isn’t so difficult after all.

Regulus remains silent for a bit too long, and his lack of response seems to be enough for Marlene. Her grin spreads even wider, and she looks so smug Regulus wants to scream.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she says, and Regulus simply glares. “Or did you really want to take someone else out? Is it Emma? Is that why you seemed so mad while you were watching her and James dance?”

Regulus’ eyes widen at Marlene’s question, and he straightens up slightly, his whole body tensing up. He tries to come up with a snarky response, something Marlene will just laugh off or that’ll manage to distract her, but he isn’t fast enough.

She perks up, eyes so big they seem like they’re about to pop out of their sockets. She’s looking at Regulus like he’s grown a second head. “Is that it? You’re jealous?”

“Why the fuck would I be jealous?” he snaps, more viciously than intended.

“I mean, Emma is fucking beautiful. And she’s funny and smart and looks so fit in all those bikinis she wears.” Marlene shrugs. “Too bad she’s so obsessed with Potter—”

“I don’t like Emma,” Regulus cuts her off, enunciating every word carefully. “And I’m not jealous of bloody Potter. I wouldn’t want to deal with all that, anyway.”

“Yeah, she’s a bit on the affectionate side. She’d probably overwhelm you.”

“That’s so not the point—”

“But I don’t think she has an actual chance with Potter,” Marlene goes on, like she didn’t hear him in the first place. “He’s too much of a gentleman. Even if he wanted to fuck Emma, which I don’t think he does, by the way, he wouldn’t even try. So, you know, if you wanna get in there—”

“I don’t,” Regulus snaps, his hands clenching into fists. He isn’t sure of what’s offending him more, being accused of being into Emma, or the assumption that he’d cheat on such a stupid whim. “And frankly, it’s really fucking rude that you’d be so quick to defend James’ honour but think so badly of me—”

“Oh my god, I was joking!” Marlene rushes to say, holding her hands up in mock surrender. She’s still smiling, but there are a few wrinkles between her dark eyebrows. “I swear! I wasn’t implying anything, Black, it’s just fun to rile you up. You don’t usually get upset so quickly, that’s why I didn’t stop, but I’m sorry for pushing.”

Regulus narrows his eyes at her, not doubting her sincerity but unable to shake the urge to get the fuck out of there. Somehow, he feels a little exposed. It isn’t even about having Marlene apologising to him, genuinely concerned about having angered him—more than a little disconcerting, considering how much of a little shit she is. It’s more about her calling him out on his jealousy, even though Regulus thinks that’s a bit of a strong word to describe what he’s feeling.

Sure, she isn’t exactly correct about the target of Regulus’ envy, but her words still hit too close to home, and he doesn’t fucking like it. He can’t stand to be read so easily, especially by someone who barely knows him.

“It’s fine,” Regulus ends up murmuring, averting his gaze from Marlene’s worried eyes.

“Is it, though?” She runs a hand through her messy hair and lets out a tiny sigh. “I really wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. I do like you, you know. And before you start gagging at me, I don’t mean it like that.”

Regulus rolls his eyes so hard his head tilts back, once again mildly annoyed because of how right Marlene was about his reaction.

“The point is, I appreciate you and our friendship—”

“I’d barely call it a friendship—” Regulus sniffs.

“Our acquaintanceship that’s slowly developing into a friendship,” Marlene corrects drily, one of her eyebrows arched. “Better?”

“Much.” Regulus’ lips twitch helplessly, and he can only hope Marlene doesn’t notice.

She scoffs, but it’s surprisingly fond. “As I was saying, I appreciate you, and I enjoy all the banter and bickering immensely, but if I ever go too far or cross a line, don’t hesitate to tell me to fuck off, yeah?”

“Stop making such a big deal out of it. I’ve told you to back off before and I will definitely do so again. This was nothing, I’m just not in the best of moods right now.”

“When are you ever,” Marlene says under her breath, but her tone seems to have regained its usual mocking quality, so Regulus decides to not take offence. “You know, you make it very hard to apologise.”

“Something tells me you’re also not very well-versed in saying sorry—”

“I’m perfectly decent at apologies, thank you very much. I’d love to have some cooperation, though—”

“Hey, guys,” someone butts in, and Regulus and Marlene jump at the same time, the synchronicity sort of comical. They share an irritated look, before they focus on the newcomer, who turns out to be Lucinda. “We’re about to start playing some games. You both wanna join?”

Regulus tries his best, he really does, but he can’t keep his face from twisting into a grimace, goosebumps rattling his frame.

He’s never found party games very fun, mostly because they involve drunk people who can barely remember their own names, which makes the whole thing tiring and complicated. Not to mention, said games tend to be silly and childish and, more often than not, on the sexual side, and Regulus doesn’t make the habit of getting close and personal with strangers.

Not anymore, at least. He had a bit of a phase, when he had just left his parents’ house and cut all contact with them. But considering it was the first time in his life he had had the chance to be out as gay and proud about it, he doesn’t think he should be blamed.

He’s put all that behind him now. Don’t get him wrong, he loves sex, but hookup culture isn’t for him. And if that means staying single and only having his hand or a few toys when he’s feeling especially lonely, then so be it.

These specific party games, however, are even worse. They’re supposed to be some sort of bonding exercise, but the truth is that they’re just an excuse for people to act like absolute whores—half of what they involve is practically cheating, or it comes uncomfortably close to it. But since they’re just that, games, shit gets forgiven and forgotten all the fucking time.

It’s fucking disgusting, really. And Regulus can count on one hand the amount of people who have refused to get involved, or have established boundaries throughout the games, during the entirety of the show. And there’s about eight seasons out already, not counting the one they’re filming now. That’s a lot of games, and very little boundaries.

He and Dorcas had spent most of their time watching them rolling their eyes, and turning their noses up, and sometimes even gagging. It’s usually what they use to gauge how decent a participant is, because even the ones who seem nice, and smitten with their partners, show their true colours during the games. It’s a progression, they’ve noticed, people growing more and more shameless each episode, and Regulus doesn’t want to be there for it. Not even as a spectator.

“Sure,” Marlene replies with ease, giving a little shrug. Regulus could swear there’s a certain strain in her voice, though. “Just give us a second and—”

“Actually, I’m gonna go get another drink,” Regulus comments, hoping he comes off as casual, disinterested, and not as grossed out as he’s beginning to feel. “Start without me, I’ll join at some point.”

“Okay!” Lucinda agrees easily, nodding very fast. There’s a soft blush on her cheeks, and Regulus imagines she must be more than a little tipsy. “Let’s go, Marls.”

“But Reg—” she begins to protest, even as she lets herself be pulled by Lucinda.

“Will be with us soon,” Lucinda presses, patting Marlene clumsily on the head. “Won’t you, Reg?”

“Uh,” he murmurs, already making his way to the kitchen. He catches a glimpse of Marlene’s pleading face before he turns around. “Yeah, of course.”

“See?” Lucinda exclaims, way too excitedly. “You’ll barely get a chance to miss him, really—”

Regulus doubts that’s why Marlene was so reluctant to join the games, but he doesn’t hear the rest of Lucinda’s sentence, or Marlene’s response. If she even gave one, that is.

He shakes his head, cringing when he hears faint cheers and whooping, not even wanting to imagine what’s going on in that living room. Regulus thinks he might get something light and then go up to his room, maybe read a little and hope that the alarm doesn’t wake him up tonight.

When he slips into the kitchen, he isn’t surprised to find it in a state, with opened bags of snacks all over the counter and a dozen bottles of different kinds of alcohol spread all over the table. There are even little poodles on the floor, and Regulus does his best to avoid them, not wanting to end up with sticky shoes. Honestly, they’re so lucky he’s so tired and dying to hide away in his room, otherwise he’d hunt whoever is responsible and fucking kill them for not cleaning up after themselves.

Whatever. It’s not his problem. He’ll just serve himself a nice glass of wine and go up to his room, end this irritating night on a good note.

Regulus has just started rummaging through the fridge, trying to decide if he’s feeling more like a red or a white, when he hears someone approach. He tilts his head a little to the side, eyes never leaving the bottles in front of him, as he attempts to discern who it is.

It’s futile. There’s too many people living in the goddamn house, and Regulus hasn’t been here long enough to be able to recognise anyone by footsteps alone. The sound still makes him tense up slightly, uneasy, not knowing who to expect, unable to mentally prepare himself properly.

“Ah, there you are, Reggie,” James sighs contentedly, slurring his words a little. Regulus startles, and he nearly lets out a groan. “Lu said you went to get another drink, but I was afraid it had been just an excuse to run away.”

Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, before finally grabbing the red wine and straightening up, closing the door of the fridge with his hip as he turns around to face James. He makes sure to keep his expression bored, indifferent, hoping James won’t notice the way his left eye keeps twitching.

“Did you need me for something?” he questions, fingers clenching around the neck of the bottle.

“Nope,” James responds, popping the ‘p’ a bit too dramatically. Regulus hates how endearing he finds it. “Just missed you.”

Regulus bites his tongue so hard he tastes the blood, but it’s the only way he knows how to keep a whine from tumbling out of his mouth. James is a hazard to his mental stability on a good day, and apparently, it’s even worse when he’s drunk.

He needs to get out of here immediately. Before he says or does something stupid. The fact that James looks ridiculously hot, his bellbottoms hanging low enough on his hip to show off the trail of hair that disappears under the edge of his pants is definitely not helping. Regulus is making an active effort to keep his eyes from straying, and he’s still failing.

“Right,” he mutters, his mouth completely dry. “Well, sorry to say I’m not in the mood to play any games. I just came to get some wine and then I was planning to go to my room—”

“Can I come with?” James rushes to ask, stumbling over his words and with his eyes wide and eager, like he’s some kind of puppy.

Regulus blinks at him. “I don’t think that’d be wise,” he retorts, feeling strangely wrong-footed. He can barely hold James’ gaze for more than a half a second at a time.

“Why not?” James pouts. He honest-to-god pouts. Regulus reaches with his free hand until he can grasp the counter, his knees going a bit weak. “I promise I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m there.”

“That’s not the point, James—”

“I’ll be so good, Reg, I swear. I’ll do anything you want—”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“James,” he cuts him off firmly. The other man’s pout worsens, and Regulus fantasises with banging his head against one of the cabinets. “You’re drunk.”

“Am not,” he grumbles, the beginnings of a frown creasing his face. Regulus levels him with a look, and he lowers his head, defeated. “Okay, maybe I am, but just a little! Mostly tipsy.”

Regulus sighs deeply, before turning toward the counter and grabbing one of the empty glasses. “I’m not sure if I believe you,” he mutters as he opens the wine, pouring it carefully. “You have a high tolerance, and this is the first time I’ve seen alcohol affect you like this. How much did you drink?”

There’s a pause. Regulus doesn’t dare take a peek at the sort of face James is wearing, lest his resolve breaks, so he just takes a little sip of his drink.

It tastes sour.

“Not that much,” James protests, voice small. “About five cocktails, I think. And then me and Kingsley did a few shots—”

“For fuck’s sake,” Regulus whispers, eyes shutting briefly as his hold on the glass tightens. “No more alcohol for you tonight.”

“I’m not a child.”

“You sure? Because you’re acting like one.”

When Regulus finally decides it’s time to face James once again, he’s unsurprised to discover him frowning, body swaying slightly and with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s still sporting that ridiculous pout, and Regulus gets the sudden urge to kiss it off his lips.

He crushes the image as soon as it comes, before it can linger.

“I just wanna spend some time with you,” James huffs. His voice pitches perilously close to a whine. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you today—”

“We spend everyday together, James,” Regulus deadpans. He hides the way his lips try to twitch up at the corners by taking another sip of his wine. Why is he even entertaining this conversation?

“Do we? Because it doesn’t feel like it.” James squints his eyes at him, an adorable flush darkening the high points of his cheekbones. Right. That’s why. This would all be a lot more irritating if the other man didn’t look so cute all the damn time. It’s annoying. “You almost never join any of the group activities, and you don’t stay long during parties. And if you do, you’re always hanging out with Marlene—”

The way James says Marlene’s name, dragging it out like a taunt, jolts Regulus back into reality. All he’d wanted to do was drink his wine in bed. James can fuck off. “As if you’re not too busy dancing with Emma,” Regulus spits, venomous, mouth twisting into a sneer.

James has the audacity to look taken aback. “Emma is nice. I like Emma.”

“That’s—good, James. Fucking great. Go back to her, yeah? She might have an aneurysm if you take any longer.”

“I don’t want to, though.” James is frowning again, but it looks more confused than petulant this time. “I wanna be with you.”

Regulus feels a pang right at the centre of his chest, and really, he is in no state to deal with this shit right now. James can’t be staring at him with those big, brown eyes of his, and with both his chest and stomach exposed and expect Regulus to keep his cool.

Sure, James has been shirtless more often than not since they all got here, but the thing is Regulus usually admires from a distance. He doesn’t have to stand next to a shirtless James and listen to him spout all this… nonsense. Nonsense that, under different circumstances, Regulus might’ve died to hear from him. Under impossible circumstances. Because James doesn’t know what he’s saying, can’t possibly mean it like that.

Regulus doesn’t know if he wants to scream or burst into tears.

He drags in a deep breath, swallows both the scream and the lump in his throat. “You’re drunk,” Regulus repeats, because what else can he say? What else can he do?

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything—”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You should just go back to the party, have fun with the games—”

“No,” James says sharply, his jaw clenched and gaze hard. He’s the most lucid he’s been this whole conversation. “No. I don’t—I won’t play the games, I don’t want to, and you can’t make me—”

“Make you?” Regulus snaps with a bitter laugh before his mouth can catch up with his brain. “No one’s making you do anything, James. You play the games, you flirt with Emma because you want to. So, go on.”

James actually recoils, turning his head so Regulus can’t see his face. When he turns back, he just looks sad. Regulus notices the way his eyes shine with emotion and hates himself a little.

“I didn’t mean that,” Regulus rushes to say, leaving his glass on the counter and taking a hesitant step towards James. All the fight has exited his body, giving way to concern, and somehow, it feels even more overwhelming than the irritation. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I won’t force you. No one will.”

“It’s just… they were all so disappointed when I left, but I… and the way Emma was looking at me—” James pauses and rubs furiously at his eyes. “I just can’t do it. And I don’t understand—why the others would participate in something like that—” his voice breaks, cutting him off. He drops his head and sighs. It tugs something in Regulus’ chest.

“Hey, hey, James, come on, look at me,” Regulus murmurs, so very softly, and unexpectedly, James does, eyes meeting his own immediately, without a second thought. “It’s fine, you’re fine.”

The other man watches him silently, his expression jumping from one emotion to another, going so fast Regulus doesn’t have the time to identify a single one. Then, he nods a few times, rallying, before he stops and switches to shaking his head instead.

Regulus takes another step closer. “Talk to me,” he says gently, gaze never leaving James’. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” James grunts out, frustrated and helpless. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and making his swaying momentarily worse. “Since the Bonfire, I—I’ve been feeling weird. Upset. I don’t know.”

Regulus sighs quietly, and moves even nearer. He had noticed that James seemed a bit out of it on occasion, but he had assumed he was just tired. Struggling to acclimate, because the first week can simply feel like a holiday, but after that, it gets a little overwhelming. Regulus himself has been feeling a bit suffocated, and he’s been coping with it as best as he can. Keeping distracted. Reading. Hanging out with the others even when he isn’t in the mood for human company.

James is always so bright, so full of energy. Even when he seems a little down, he pushes it away, like it can’t ever touch him. Regulus had assumed that if someone was going to break, it was Peter. Or maybe even Frank, if only because he and his girlfriend seem to be a bit on the codependent side.

But not James. Never James. He’s the best of them all.

“It’s not even about missing Lily,” he goes on, his shoulders sagging. “Even though I do. It’s just—it was so weird to watch her like that, and it felt so—so wrong. And I know it doesn’t make any sense, because she’s doing everything right, and having fun, and I’m glad. I really am. It’s not her. I feel like, like it’s me, like I’m the problem, but I’m not—I don’t—”

“Shh, I get it,” Regulus mumbles as he finally shortens the distance between them. He’s still a bit hesitant about reaching out, but the moment he starts to extend his arms, James leans into him, not supporting all of his weight on him but resting against him. “And it’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault, really. It’s just this stupid show.”

Regulus puts his hands on James’ shoulders, and although he keeps the contact light, both for his sanity and James’ sake, he still squeezes once. The other man seems to take this as some form of invitation, however, because all of a sudden, there’s a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, and Regulus begins to feel slightly lightheaded.

“You can’t just blame everything on the show, Reg, that’s not how it works,” James mumbles, but his mouth looks like it’s about to curl into a smile, and he seems calmer, more himself.

Regulus knew the physical contact would help. He just fears he might not survive it.

“Except I can,” he retorts, giving another squeeze to James’ shoulders. “Listen, if you were doing something wrong, or fucking up in any way, I’d tell you. You know I would. But everything you’re feeling right now—it’s this place. It’s getting in your head and messing with your mind. That’s what it does. And you can’t let it.”

“It’s not even been two weeks. It shouldn’t be affecting me this much. The others are just fine—”

“They’re out there playing games with the tempters even though they have girlfriends. Even though I know there’s at least one of them who swore he wouldn’t. That doesn’t seem like being fine to me.”

James’ expression crumbles, and for a moment, Regulus is sure it’s going to twist into something angry. But in the end, James simply looks conflicted, a storm raging behind his eyes.

“It’s not—they’re good people. I know they are. And they aren’t doing—they’d never—”

“James, it’s okay, shh, it’s okay.” Regulus slides his hands up until he’s cradling James’ face, his palms pressing against warm skin. “I’m not trying to start anything. And I’m not accusing your friends—”

“Our friends,” James corrects him softly, and it drags a tiny smile out of Regulus.

“Our friends,” he repeats, watching the way it smooths some of the wrinkles in James’ forehead. “We’re all dealing with it in the best way we can. You getting upset is normal, and understandable. No one expects you to be strong all the time.”

“I want to be, though,” James mumbles, voice breaking a little at the end.

“You can’t,” Regulus tells him, firmly but not unkindly. “And that’s fine. We appreciate you anyway, James. And we want to be there for you too, you know? You shouldn’t be the only one looking after people.”

“I like to have others lean on me,” James says, nuzzling against Regulus’ palm, eyes going half-lidded. “I like to take care of others, be reliable. It makes me feel good. It makes me—it makes me feel needed—”

Regulus closes his eyes tight, fingers twitching where they’re resting in James’ cheek. When he opens them again, he can only hope that the pain isn’t visible in his face.

He shouldn’t be listening to this. James wouldn’t be saying any of this shit to him if he was sober. And he’s aching to comfort him, to remind James of how amazing, and sweet, and loved he is, but at the same time, the guilt is urging him to run away. To leave before James spills more secrets not meant for Regulus’ ears.

“You’re needed,” Regulus mutters, a bit desperate. “And you are wanted.”

I want you, is what he can’t say, what he’s forced to swallow back. It tastes like bile going down his throat.

James’ grips his waist tighter at the statement, pulling him in until there’s barely any space between their bodies.

“And it has nothing to do with what you can do for us,” Regulus continues, praying that James is drunk enough to not notice how high-pitched his tone has gotten. “It’s just you, James. You don’t need to be something you’re not. You don’t need to prove anything. Not to us, and not to anyone, you hear me? You’re—” Regulus has to make a pause, swallowing thickly to no avail, a knot still stuck in between his vocal chords. “You’re enough.”

James’ breath hitches, and then he’s leaning forward, one of his hands moving until it’s pressing against the small of Regulus’ back. For a moment, Regulus panics, about to scramble back and away from James’ hold, but then he realises the other man just wants to rest his forehead on his, breaths intermingling, and Regulus relaxes once again. Or tries to, at the very least.

It’s very hard when James’ citrusy scent, mixed with the smell of sweat, is clogging up his senses and making him frustratingly dizzy, when his lips are barely a few centimetres from his own.

“Oh, you’re so lovely, Reg,” James sighs dreamily. His eyes are slightly glazed over, and Regulus inhales shakily. “So, so lovely. And so very pretty too—”

“James,” Regulus whispers, and he attempts for the word to come out as a warning, he really does, but it’s tender, raw, bordering on needy.

“Do you know that? Do you know how pretty you are? And your eyes… They’re so bright. And so grey. Like steel. Or like a storm.”

“James, you’re very drunk. You don’t even know what you’re saying—”

“I do! And it’s the truth!”

“You’re not making any sense,” Regulus insists, digging his fingers into James’ skin a bit painfully. James grunts, but he doesn’t even try to pull away. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”

The other man perks up a little. “With you?”

Regulus laughs, and it’s nothing short of hysterical. James must not be able to tell, though, because the noise makes him grin widely at Regulus.

“No, not with me,” he denies with a tiny shake of his head. This time, when James pouts, Regulus is ready for it, and he stands his ground. “You’re going to your own bed. Alone.”

“But—” James attempts to protest.

“Don’t even. I’m not budging.”

James huffs, and for a second, Regulus is certain he’s going to stomp his foot. “You’re so mean.”

“Cry me a river,” Regulus retorts, but it lacks heat, and he fears the fondness in his face might be giving him away. “Come on, you big baby. We’re getting you a glass of water and then you’re going straight to your room, okay?”

The other man whines quietly, pressing half his face into Regulus’ palm, as if he’s a cat, or something. It tugs at his chest, and it’s almost enough to make him melt, but Regulus is the only one in his right mind, and he’s not about to fuck this up.

James better wake up tomorrow with no recollection of this whole conversation.

“Okay?” Regulus says again, pointedly, and James groans against his hand, but he mumbles something right after and then gives a little nod. Better than nothing.

“Good,” he sighs, relieved. “Let me just—”

Regulus is about to step back when a blaring noise reaches them, making them both cringe at the same time. James even makes a pained sound, burrowing even closer to Regulus.

It doesn’t take him long to realise it’s the alarm. The fucking temptation light. Regulus only has to lean back and take a peek over James’ shoulder to see the colour reflecting against the windows.

It’s amber.

“Fuck,” Regulus curses under his breath, and that seems to pull James out of his daze. He doesn’t step away, or stop touching him, but he does turn around slightly, enough to glance at the windows, searching for the source of the sound.

Despite the alcohol in his system, it doesn’t take James that long to connect the dots. His eyes widen, and Regulus watches panic fill his face, lips parting even though not a single word slips through them.

“James,” Regulus calls him softly, trying to meet the other man’s gaze to no avail.

“That’s not right,” he grumbles, staring at the bright orange light completely unblinking. The alarm is still going off. “That’s not right.”

“James,” Regulus says again, harsher, more urgent. “James, come on, look at me—”

“The boys,” James whispers, going all stiff under Regulus’ fingertips. “They must be destroyed. I have to be there. I have to—they need me—”

“James, baby, please,” Regulus begs, grabbing him by the chin, forcing James’ to focus on him once more. And James goes easily, eyes softening the slightest bit when they settle on Regulus. “I’ll go check on them, yeah? See if they need anything.”

“Really?” James wonders, eyes brightening. “You’d do that?”

Regulus nods quickly, his thumb drawing tiny circles into James’ cheek. “Of course. It’s no bother.”

It is a little, because Regulus was really looking forward to his bed and some privacy, but he supposes he doesn’t mind too much, doing this for James.

And yes, he refuses to analyse what that might mean to him, thank you very much.

“You’re the best,” James whispers, like it’s a secret, hazel eyes so soft it makes Regulus shiver.

“But you need to go straight to bed,” Regulus reminds him, going for stern and not getting even a little close.

“I will,” James answers, trying his best to sound determined. He’s still slurring his words quite a bit, though, so it doesn’t quite have the desired effect. “I promise.”

“Okay.” Regulus exhales quietly through his nose, eyes sliding all over James’ face, giving himself a moment before he goes back out there. “I trust you.”

For some reason, that statement makes James beam at him, at the strength of it is almost blinding. Regulus couldn’t even hide his own smile if he wanted to, so he allows it to take over his face, his fingers still caressing James’ warm skin.

Both of them seem reluctant to let go, but Regulus knows it’s going to have to be him. James is way too out of it, and he’d probably be happy to stay right here, babbling and giggling and staring like an idiot, until he starts to get sleepy.

And, well, if Regulus is being honest, that whole scenario sort of sounds appealing to him too, but it’s not the time and place for it, and he definitely can’t afford it. He’s already becoming way too attached, and he needs to put an end to it before it’s too late. James doesn’t make it very easy.

Regulus shakes his head slightly, vanishing the grin from his face. He’s about to pull away, when James turns his head once again, digging his crooked nose into Regulus’ palm. Before the other man finally lets go, he drops a kiss right in the centre of Regulus’ palm. It’s brief, barely a press of lips before he’s going back to nuzzling into Regulus’ hand, but it makes his heart skip a beat. He’s pulling away and turning around a second later, legs feeling like jelly and breathing going a bit uneven.

He heads straight to the sink, ignoring James’ complaints and all his spluttering. He reaches for a glass, glaring at his trembling hand, and fills it with cold water. When he walks back to where James is still standing dejectedly like he’s a kicked puppy, he offers him the drink with eyes stubbornly set on the floor.

It takes a moment, but when James finally grabs the glass, their fingers graze each other’s until Regulus quickly pulls his hand back, clutching it tightly against his chest. He raises his head and catches James holding onto the water, tilting his head slightly to the side, blinking slowly.

Regulus bites his lip, and then he nods at James in some sort of goodbye, before moving past him and heading towards the living room.

He does his best to forget that entire interaction, swatting away any thoughts of James’ kind eyes, his sweet words, his excited smile. The way his big hands felt grabbing his waist, the warmth of his forehead against his own, his lips pressing into his skin—

Regulus’ hand twitches before it curls into a fist. And yet, it does nothing to crush the lingering feeling that James’ mouth left there.

***

“I know it was Mary. I know it in my soul. It had to be her!”

Someone sighs, and Regulus thinks it might’ve been him. But, then again, he isn’t the only one tired of this conversation, if Kingsley’s face is anything to go by. Frank’s too, Regulus thinks, but he’s a lot better at hiding his expression. And James’, if he wasn’t trying so hard to provide comfort and steer the chat to a safer topic in the kindest way possible.

“Pete—” James begins, voice bordering on exhaustion. He truly has the patience of a fucking saint.

“I know it!” Peter insists, and when Regulus’ gaze comes across Kingsley’s, he makes a gun with his fingers and points it at his temple.

Regulus looks away, rolling his lower lip between his teeth to stifle a snort.

“Except you don’t,” Frank comments drily. “Because you can’t. None of us can’t.”

“Exactly,” Kingsley says, before Peter has the chance to protest. “We can argue about it all you want, but the truth is that it’s impossible to be sure. We won’t find out until the Bonfire, so this is all pointless.”

“And we might not even find out then, either,” Regulus adds with a little shrug. “Pandora will show us the images she considers relevant. That might be the reason for the alarm, or it might be something else entirely.”

Kingsley nods fast, making a wide gesture with his arms and pointing to Regulus’ general direction. Peter groans pitifully, tilting his head back until it’s resting against the couch—he’s sitting on the floor, in between the coffee table and said couch. Regulus doesn’t know if it’s due to the heat or if he simply enjoys being on the floor over any other kind of seat.

He’s noticed that Marlene falls into the latter category, and since he’s beginning to appreciate her company against his will, he finds this quirk of Peter’s a bit endearing.

Frank goes to pat Peter’s head, but considering his position, his hand ends up tapping on his forehead, which drags a chuckle out of both Kingsley and James. Regulus has to make an active effort to keep his smile at bay.

“I have a really bad feeling,” Peter mumbles, eyes fixed on the white ceiling, unblinking.

“Don’t we all?” Frank huffs out, giving the other man one last forehead pat before he leans away, curling into his own corner of the couch.

“Yeah, but this is different.” Peter shuts his eyes for a couple of seconds, lips pursing. “You were all at the Bonfire. You saw my clips. Mary’s the one who’s made the most progress with a tempter so far—”

“Barely,” Kingsley intercedes. “She seems like the extroverted type, so of course she’s gonna get along with the guys more easily than the others.”

“Yeah, and sometimes being more casually flirty is better than, I don’t know, developing a genuine connection,” Frank comments, shifting slightly in his seat.

“Oh, absolutely,” James pipes in immediately. They’re all so in sync already that Regulus doesn’t know if he should find it sweet or straight up concerning. “Attraction is normal, mate. It happens to all of us. This whole show counts on it, and uses it whenever it can. It’s not about not feeling any interest, but about resisting it, and remembering what truly matters.”

There are a few hums of assent, and even though Peter doesn’t look very convinced, he does let out a tiny sigh, his whole body slouching with it, as if he’s getting rid of a very heavy weight. Or, at the very least, lightening the load.

“But what if Mary isn’t able to resist it?” Peter wonders aloud, sounding small and quiet. A little weak. “She seems to be having so much fun with that—that idiot, Fabian or whatever—”

“She’d never,” James murmurs gently, moving from where he’s sitting beside Frank, until both of his legs are at Peter’s sides. He leans forward, looking the other man in the eye. “You speak so highly of her. And from what you’ve told us, you’re both very in love.”

“I guess,” Peter concedes with a grimace. “But you’ve seen Fabian. He’s so tall, and handsome, and I’m just—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Kingsley says sharply, raising a hand. He straightens where he’s sitting on the armrest of the couch, a determined set to his jaw. “I don’t wanna hear any of that self-deprecating shit, mate. Sure, Fabian’s hot, but that’s because all the tempters are supposed to be. They rely on looks, you know? That doesn’t mean you aren’t too, though. In fact, you’re super attractive, and funny, and if I was into dudes, I’d be all over you!”

Regulus has to swallow down a scoff, unable to hide the way his body cringes a little at Kingsley’s final statement. His intention is good, and Regulus knows he’s just doing his best to cheer up a friend, but it’s the kind of comment that makes Regulus slightly uncomfortable. Mostly, because he’s had to listen to it his whole life, always coming from the straightest men, who then turned out to be biggest homophobes.

It’s also been the source of heartbreaking misunderstandings. When you keep hearing it from that one guy who’s a bit too affectionate around you and who never stops complimenting your appearance, sometimes you end up getting the wrong idea. Regulus couldn’t tell you what’s worse, if the rejection or the shame.

Peter blushes a pretty pink as he tilts his head towards Kingsley. “Really?” he asks shyly, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Really!” Kingsley exclaims, and if Regulus didn’t know any better, he thinks he’d believe him. “You’re an absolute catch, Pete! You need to have more confidence, man.”

“I try,” Peter retorts, still acting bashful. “I’m normally not this insecure, it’s just—” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“I get it,” Frank says, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve been so fucking paranoid since we got here. Like, there’s so much shit I thought I didn’t care about anymore, but suddenly I keep overthinking it and wondering about it and getting so upset over it.”

“You mean the cheating?” Kingsley questions, and despite the boldness, his voice sounds tender. Cautious. “That stuff you told us about, when you and Alice had just started dating.”

Frank exhales loudly through his nose, a few wrinkles appearing between his eyebrows. “Yeah. It was awful at the beginning, when she finally came to me and confessed to the whole thing. We both cried, and I, um, said a lot of shitty things I didn’t really mean. It seemed like the end, and we had just barely gotten started, you know?”

They all nod in understanding, but Regulus stays still, unmoving, watching them all from the loveseat where he’s sitting all by himself. It doesn’t feel like he’s being addressed like the rest of them are. He doesn’t even think half of them remember he’s still in the room, really.

Regulus prefers it this way, which is why he can’t comprehend the little sting he can feel between his ribs at the thought.

“But after giving each other some space, we decided we wanted to make the relationship work despite it all, and we sought help, and talked and fixed our issues.” Frank shakes his head, his frown worsening momentarily. “I was supposed to be completely over it. And I still feel like I am, most of the time. But being separated from Alice, not knowing how she’s doing and the fact that she’s surrounded by all of those guys… I don’t think I trust her as much as I believed I did.”

He sounds downright upset at the end, and Regulus has no idea if it’s directed at himself, or at his girlfriend. Nevertheless, the others don’t hesitate to give him some support, with Peter reaching out to squeeze his knee and James wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and Kingsley dropping a loud kiss on his hair.

It doesn’t manage to make Frank smile, not even a little, but he does lean into the contact, letting himself be looked after.

“I kinda feel the same way,” Kingsley sighs, resting his head against Frank’s. “It sounds awful, because me and Sybill are here because of both of our commitment issues, but I can’t stop expecting the worst. And I don’t even have reasons to! She’s never cheated on me!”

“It’s easy to give into your fear when you’re isolated like this,” James comments, his eyes jumping from one of them to the other, always making sure none of them feel left out. “It doesn’t matter how strong your bond with your partner is. You’re put in a situation meant to make you doubt. But you have to remember to focus on your relationship—”

“Easy for you to say, James,” Peter cuts in, and even though he puts on a teasing smile, his voice comes out a bit tight. Regulus tenses up almost immediately. “You have the most perfect girlfriend. She’s completely uninterested in any of the tempters, and has kept her distance. You’ve nothing to worry about.” He sighs wistfully. “Ah, must be nice.”

James squirms in his seat, a forced laugh escaping his lips. Regulus watches his shoulders go up to nearly his ears, the usual light in his eyes dimming slightly.

“Yes, I suppose I have it easy,” James mutters, eyes fixed on his lap, refusing to look at anyone. “I can’t complain, really.”

Frank and Kingsley exchange a smile and a nod to each other, happy to have equilibrium restored. Regulus clenches his jaw, hands curling into fists where they’re resting at his sides.

“Honestly, mate, Lily seems lovely,” Frank comments, playfully pushing James’ shoulder with his own, the gesture playful. “You might be the only one who’ll be able to actually enjoy the experience and treat it like a nice vacation.”

James hums nonchalantly.

“I’m actually so jealous,” Kingsley says. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when we watched your video. Like, I already knew your relationship was straight out of a bloody romcom, but seeing it so plainly was insane.”

“Yeat, at least one of us doesn’t—” Peter speaks up again.

“You’re all fucking idiots,” Regulus deadpans, his mouth opening before his brain has the time to register what’s coming out of it. For once, though, he doesn’t regret it. “You really think any of that shit means anything? Please.”

They all turn to stare at him, Peter’s lips slightly parted fromRegulus cutting him off mid-sentence. Even James finally focuses on him, eyebrows raised and glasses sliding low on his nose.

“We’ve already been through this. And you’ve been here long enough to be able to tell.” Regulus scoffs, rolls his eyes. “The show is playing with you all. Manipulating you into believing what it wants you to believe. So what if James didn’t see Lily do anything out of line? It was a two-minute video. She’d been there for a whole fucking week.”

“I mean,” Frank mumbles with a little cough, refusing to meet Regulus’ eyes. “I guess you have a point—”

“And sure, Mary was acting quite flirty, but again, she was flirty for what? 30 seconds?” Regulus continues, raising his voice enough to speak over Frank, who cringes and seems to be trying to make himself smaller, even though it’s no easy task. “If that’s the only instance of her doing something questionable, then I think you’re doing just fine.”

“Okay, you’re right, Reg, but it’s still upsetting to watch. It’s hard to keep a cool head when you’re apart from your partner and it’s the only content of her you get—” Kingsley interrupts, trying to appease.

“Never said otherwise,” Regulus retorts coldly. “I just think it’s really fucking insensitive of you all to assume James is doing just fine simply because his girlfriend wasn’t playing along with any of the tempters. Isn’t he in the same situation as you, huh? Away from his girlfriend, unable to be sure of what’s actually going on? Stuck with only a couple of clips every week?”

Kingsley presses his lips tight, but he’s unable to hold Regulus’ gaze for more than a handful of seconds, a furrow settling in his brow as he looks away.

Frank is glaring at the coffee table in front of him, acting like it has personally offended him, and Peter has his head tilted back, staring at James with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip.

Regulus doesn’t feel any guilt. In fact, he hopes they’re all upset, and miserable, and thinking themselves awful friends. They’re all a bunch of self-centred assholes and he hates every moment he’s spent in their company or feeling any kind of fondness towards them.

James has been there for them since the very beginning. It hasn’t even been two weeks yet, and Regulus can already tell that he genuinely cares for every single one of them. And this is how they choose to repay him?

“I’m sorry, James,” Peter murmurs, his words nearly a whisper.

“No, that’s not—” James starts, raising both his hands and waving them around in time with the shaking of his head.

“You should be,” Regulus interrupts, his arms crossed. “You’ve been acting like absolute pricks—”

“Regulus, that’s enough,” James hisses, and Regulus can only blink at him, mouth opening and closing one, two, three times, unable to produce a single noise. He’s surprised to find the other man frowning at him, the corners of his lips curled in displeasure.

“We are sorry, though, James,” Frank says, his attention finally shifting from the little coffee table. “We’ve been so focused on our own problems that we forgot about yours, about the fact that you’re also in this shitty situation. Simply because in our eyes, you had it better. That’s not fair.”

James exhales wearily, his fingers sliding under his glasses to rub furiously at his eyes. “Guys, I told you, it’s fine—”

“But it’s not,” Kingsley denies, scratching the side of his nose. He seems to be looking at one of the walls, brown eyes slightly unfocused. “Regulus’ manners might not be the best, but—”

“Fuck off,” Regulus snaps, ignoring the sharp glance James sends his way. He can fuck off too.

“—he didn’t lie. We’ve been acting like terrible friends,” Kingsley finishes, somehow appearing to be more relaxed after Regulus’ attack.

“C’mon, you’re exaggerating—”

“He’s not,” Peter presses, straightening up enough to turn around completely and face James properly. Regulus arches an eyebrow at the back of his blond hair. “You’ve been making sure we’re all feeling okay, never letting us get into our own heads, but we haven’t been checking on you.”

“We all check on each other,” James protests, and for some insane reason, he sounds a little upset.

“Not enough.” Peter leans forward, until his chin is resting right on top of James’ thigh. He cocks his head to the side. “Are you feeling alright, James?”

James sputters, looking around the room with something akin to desperation, eyes roaming all over Frank’s face, then Kingsley’s, and finally Regulus’. He’s gaping like an absolute idiot, and Regulus could swear he seems a little flustered.

Whatever. He scoffs under his breath, and then averts his gaze. Regulus already helped him more than enough, and considering how ungrateful James acted about it, he can deal with this on his own. See if Regulus cares.

In the end, James’s attention returns to Peter, the sigh that escapes him utterly defeated.

“Yeah, I’m okay, guys,” he clarifies, one of his hands running down his face. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yes, we do,” Frank answers without missing a beat. “We wanna be there for you, yeah? And if you’re struggling, don’t forget that you can come to us.”

“I know that—”

“Well, then this is your reminder.” Frank gives a firm nod before giving James a gentle pat on the head.

James flinches slightly, not expecting the touch, but then his face breaks into a helpless grin. He shakes his head a little, splotches of red covering his cheeks, before he pulls distractedly at his hair.

“Okay,” he mutters softly, not looking at anyone in particular. “Thank you. Truly.”

Peter swats him amicably on the knee with a click of his tongue. “You don’t need to thank us, idiot. It’s what friends are for.”

“Let me do it anyway,” James huffs, his grin becoming impossibly wider.

Regulus has to swallow down the urge to scoff at the display of heterosexual friendship, but gives into the urge to roll his eyes when he gets up from the loveseat. The sudden movement seems to catch everyone’s attention; four pairs of eyes warily tracking him after his outburst. He pays them no mind.

“Happy to see you all have made up,” he comments, bored, hoping it comes off as insincere even though he means it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“What about you, Reg?” Kingsley questions before he even has the chance to take a single step towards the door.

Regulus falters, the start of a frown twisting his expression. “What about me?”

“How have you been feeling about all this?” Kingsley presses, staring at him a bit too intensely for Regulus’ tastes.

“What?” Regulus repeats, sounding more defensive than intended.

Somehow, that seems to soften Kingsley a little, whose eyes become gentler, more tentative. “Are you okay?” he says, and Regulus feels like he’s being treated the same as a spooked animal.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Regulus counters, but his words aren’t as sharp as he’d hoped for.

“I don’t know. Why wouldn’t you be?” Kingsley shrugs, irritatingly calm. Regulus averts looks away from him with a scowl, only for his gaze to meet James’. James, who’s watching him intently with an indecipherable expression on his face. “You just gave us a lesson on not making assumptions, so I’m asking you directly.”

“And besides, you’re also our friend!” Peter pipes in. Regulus finds his cheeriness grinds on his nerves when it’s aimed directly at him. “You’re so… quiet, and secretive, that we can’t help but worry sometimes too.”

“We care,” James finishes, and there’s something in the way he says it. Or maybe it’s the statement in itself, who knows, but it strips the irritation away and warms Regulus from head to toe.

“Oh,” he murmurs eloquently. “Well, uh. Thanks? Yeah, thanks.”

They all continue to stare at him in silence, and Regulus squirms in place, heavily considering just leaving the room with no further explanation. Most of the time, they aren’t too focused on him, or what he does, or says, and Regulus likes it that way. Except for that weird blip earlier, he hardly notices when they don’t notice him. He prefers the sidelines—not far, exactly, but also never close enough. He hasn’t exactly made an effort to bond with any of them, apart from James, sort of, but it was really the other man who sought him out, not that he’s keeping track. And the truth is that none of the others have approached him much, or acted very upset over Regulus rarely joining in their activities.

He isn’t sure of where all this is coming from, but it’s making him incredibly uncomfortable. James is the only one who has ever seemed to notice his absence, the only one to track his movements around a room. All this attention is making him itchy.

“And I, uh, I’m okay,” Regulus adds, as an afterthought, fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt. “It isn’t—you don’t have to worry about me like that. Me and Dorcas—we’re okay. We trust each other completely.” He widens his eyes when he realises what he just said, raising both his hands and waving his hands around, a bit flustered. “And I’m not trying to imply you don’t have faith in your partners, or anything. I just—me and Dorcas have never had issues when it comes to this.”

By the time he finishes, James is practically frowning, and the rest of them are watching him with different levels of perplexion.

“But that’s not what this is about—” James starts to protest.

“Then what issues do you two have?” Peter butts in. The question isn’t rude or accusatory; he seems genuinely curious, but Regulus only feels like he’s being backed into a corner.

“Yeah, you’ve never told us why you’re here,” Kingsley comments, his index finger pointing at Regulus’ general direction.

“Yes, I have,” Regulus grumbles, swallowing right after with some difficulty. “We all shared our reasons at the very beginning—”

“But you were super vague about it,” Kingsley presses, squinting his eyes. “And then we got distracted when the girls arrived, and completely forgot about it.”

“That was not being vague, I literally said the truth—”

“You mentioned that you and Dorcas believed this was the best thing you could do for your relationship in the long term. That’s all you said. That’s literally it.”

“So?” Regulus snarks, wrapping his arms around himself as he shifts the weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t understand what else do you want—”

“Nothing you don’t wanna tell us!” Kingsley rushes to say, smiling kindly. “I’m just saying, there’s gotta be a bit more to it. Especially when it seems like your relationship is perfect.”

“What, because of my video during the Bonfire?” Regulus scoffs. “I already told you, that doesn’t—”

“Mean anything, I know. But from what we’ve seen so far, she’s keeping her distance and appears to be completely uninterested in any of the tempters. You’re also not concerned, like, at all. Even James was a bit tense before and after the Bonfire. You, however…”

“What are you trying to imply?”

“Nothing, Reg, I swear, I only—”

“My relationship isn’t perfect,” Regulus snaps, fingers clenching around the cotton of his shirt. “None are. But Dorcas has never—we don’t have any—”

“Are any of you assholes gonna join us in the pool any time soon, or…?” A voice exclaims, and Regulus whips his head around just to find Marlene’s head peeking into the living room, wet hair dripping everywhere.

Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever been this excited to see her. He can barely repress a relieved sigh, biting his tongue to stop the corners of his mouth from curling upwards.

Marlene must notice the thickness of the air, the heavy silence in the room, because she raises both eyebrows, her gaze jumping from one of them to the other, until it finally lands on Regulus and settles there.

“Am I interrupting something?” she wonders, watching Regulus intently, and if it weren’t for the audience, he’d move his lips to form a quiet ‘thank you’. “Because I can come back later. The girls are just getting a little impatient. Em has been asking about you, Pete, and Emma—”

“Not at all,” Regulus cuts in a bit too loudly. It nearly makes him cringe. “And now that you mention it, the pool sounds amazing. I swear it keeps getting hotter each day.”

A frown begins to twist Marlene’s features, but she seems to realise something, or maybe she notices Regulus’ discomfort, because it switches at the very last second, turning into a wide grin instead.

She steps inside the room a second later, her red swimsuit soaking the floor with every step. Regulus has a hard time not wrinkling his nose, promising himself he’ll scold her about it as soon as they’re alone.

Somehow it gets even worse—when she reaches him, Marlene immediately wraps a cold arm around Regulus’ waist and pulls him closer to her wet body. He shivers and pushes her away in a futile attempt to resist, but Marlene is quite possibly stronger than him, so she doesn’t go far.

Still, Regulus makes sure to glare at the side of her face and dig her elbow into her ribs, hoping it’ll be enough for her to let him go.

It isn’t.

“Aw, is poor little Reggie bothered by the heat?” she teases, one of her fingers coming up to poke at his cheek. He swats it away the moment it touches his skin. “Don’t you even worry, darling, a nice, cold bath will fix you right up.”

Regulus scowls openly at her, even though he’s stopped trying to get her to let go. “Shut the fuck up. Everyone is bothered by the heat, it’s basically unbearable.”

“And yet I don’t think I’ve seen you inside the pool a single time,” Marlene sing-songs, and Regulus rolls his eyes so hard he feels a little sting.

“Maybe because you’re always near it and being around you feels like a fucking chore,” he snarks, unsurprised when it earns him a loud cackle.

“Oh, you’re always so sweet to me, Reg.” She bats her lashes at him, and Regulus can only groan.

Maybe he had been too quick to assume Marlene’s arrival would save him from the conversation. He supposes that, in a way, it had, but Regulus is beginning to feel like it might’ve not been very worth it.

“You know what, I think I’m gonna take a nap instead—”

“Nope, none of that, it’s too late. You said you were coming to the pool, so you’re coming to the pool!”

Regulus sneers but doesn’t resist when she begins to steer him towards the door. He probably couldn’t even if he wanted to, because Marlene’s grip on him is fucking deadly, actually, but still. Regulus decides there’s nothing wrong with indulging her a little, just this once. Besides, it’s probably his safest option right now, regardless of how much he acts like he doesn’t want to.

He hears a quiet murmur followed by soft chuckles, and he tilts his head just to catch the boys laughing as discreetly as they can, matching playful smirks on their faces. Any other day, it would’ve irritated Regulus immensely, but right now he’s just glad to see them properly distracted. Even if that means he’s being made fun of.

But then Regulus’ attention falls onto James, and he discovers he isn’t smiling. In fact, he’s close to frowning, his hazel eyes cold as he stares at both Regulus and Marlene. He’s oddly tense, with his jaw clenched and his teeth gritted. Regulus is half-tempted to ask, to stop Marlene for a second just so he can check on James, to find out what’s bothering him and make sure he’s okay.

Except, what’s the point? He already cares about the other man a bit too much, and this whole situation is going to hurt him enough as it is, once the season is over and James returns to his beautiful, perfect girlfriend. Regulus needs to take a step back, put a stop to this before it’s too late.

And so, he goes back to focusing on Marlene, who’s still mocking him and doing her best to get a rise out of him. He lets himself be guided, squirming slightly at the prolonged contact, and scoffs and huffs and throws insult after insult, Marlene’s laughter filling his ears the whole way.

However, and no matter how hard he tries, he’s unable to give her his full attention. Regulus’ mind keeps slipping, too aware of the eyes watching his every move, his skin feeling like it’s about to catch on fire.

Regulus feels the weight of James’ gaze for the rest of the day.

***

When Pandora finally pays them a visit, Regulus isn’t prepared.

He’s been expecting it since the last Bonfire, because he’s watched this show so much that he has the schedule and the timeline memorised. He knows better than anyone what’s supposed to happen during the second week. He isn’t looking forward to it in the slightest, but he thinks he’s as ready as he’ll ever be, and if nothing else, at least he’ll have some fun with whatever activity they have planned for them—if he gets lucky enough for said activity to be completely unrelated to the sea, that is.

But when they make it to Thursday with no news from Pandora, he begins to relax. Regulus knows it’s dumb, and unlike himself, but he is on a beautiful island and spending his time lounging by the pool and getting drunk on colourful cocktails every other night. Sure, the alarm going off occasionally can be annoying, and it’s a reminder of where he actually is and what he’s actually doing and the fact that he’s being watched every hour of every day. But most of the time, and considering it doesn’t have the same effect on him that it has on the others, he pays it no mind.

Dorcas really had been onto something when she said that this whole experience was simply going to feel like a really long vacation.

Sure, the whole pretending part isn’t fun, because Regulus has to stay alert constantly, making sure he doesn’t slip, and dealing with so much flirting from girls isn’t his definition of fun, either. But since he and Marlene have become somewhat friends, the majority of girls assume he’s picked his favourite tempter and they have stopped trying to get in his pants, content with keeping the dynamic platonic.

Regulus has also been a bit busy, doing his best to avoid James as much as possible. It hasn’t been as complicated as Regulus had anticipated, but it hasn’t been easy, either. Emma’s making sure to keep James thoroughly distracted, even though she hasn’t made any actual progress with him. Or that’s what it looks like from the outside, at least. They’re quite physically affectionate with each other, but James acts like that with nearly every person in the house.

Still, Regulus thinks James must’ve noticed. He must know that Regulus is avoiding him, because he’s been trying to get him alone these past couple of days. He hasn’t managed it just yet, because Regulus has always been good at hiding and flying under the radar, a holdover from his upbringing—but he’s more than aware that this is just a waiting game. He’s just biding his time, hoping he’ll be ready to stand his ground once James inevitably corners him.

The point is, he’s had a lot on his mind, okay? No one can’t blame him for completely forgetting about the stupid date, especially when it’s something he isn’t very excited about. It’s easier if he can ignore its existence, until he’s forcefully faced with it and has no other option but to deal with it.

Unfortunately, his time living in delusion appears to be up.

“Regulus?” Pandora asks for what could be the second time, could be the fifth. He shakes his head gently, blinking the metaphorical cobwebs away before focusing on her. “Have you decided which one of the tempters you’d like to go on a date with today?”

He shifts a bit in his seat, pretending he can’t feel the stare of every single person in his near vicinity. They’re outside the house, sitting on tall stools similar to the ones they have in the kitchen, while all of the tempters stand in a perfect line right in front of them. Pandora is, of course, in between them all, platinum hair tied in a tight bun and wearing a long, flowy skirt with a strapless top.

She looks stunning. But also like Regulus’ personal nightmare.

“Yes,” he answers after a moment, hating how weak his voice sounds. He pauses, clears his throat. “Marlene. I, uh, would like to go—go on a date with Marlene.”

Pandora blinks at him before her mouth spreads in a benign smile. She looks kind, and pleased, but the gesture is perfunctory enough that Regulus isn’t sure of how genuine it is. She probably doesn’t care that much, anyway, as long as it’ll be entertaining enough to keep her ratings high.

“Why her?” she questions, somehow not coming off as invasive. There’s no pressure in her tone, and yet, Regulus knows he can’t choose not to reply.

He swallows thickly, trying to get rid of the tangle in his vocal chords. He risks a glance at Marlene, who grins at him and offers him a nod. He reciprocates the gesture, hands clenching on his lap as he trains his gaze back on Pandora.

“We’ve been getting closer,” Regulus explains, wincing at the uncertainty in his words. “I enjoy hanging out with her and she makes me feel… comfortable. Like—like I can truly be myself.”

Someone pats him gently on the back, and he startles, turning his head to see Kingsley grinning encouragingly at him. Regulus exhales heavily, but can’t find it in himself to be truly annoyed at the other man. He allows the corners of his mouth to curl upwards enough for it to resemble a smile, and then he straightens up, his focus once again back to Pandora.

Her smile seems to have become a little wider. She places a hand over her heart, as if moved. It nearly makes Regulus wrinkle his nose.

“That’s lovely,” Pandora murmurs, nodding slowly. “I’m glad you’ve found something so beautiful with Marlene.”

Regulus presses his lips in a thin line to keep his whole face from scrunching up, and chooses to remain silent, waiting until Pandora finally moves onto the next participant. He doesn’t take another breath until he hears her ask Frank about his choice.

He’s barely listening as the whole thing continues, head hung low, eyes settled firmly on his thighs, when he feels a light touch at the small of his back. It’s soft, careful, as if whoever is doing it doesn’t want to make him jump. A tiny frown does form on his face, however, and he turns his head to the left, searching for the hand’s owner.

Regulus probably isn’t as surprised as he should be to discover it’s James. He stares silently at the other man for a beat, frown becoming more pronounced when he feels James curls his fingers in a gentle rub before withdrawing completely.

‘Okay?’ James mouths silently. His brow is furrowed into a couple of wrinkles on his that Regulus craves to make disappear.

Regulus considers not answering at all. He considers looking away, focusing on Pandora’s words and paying attention to what the rest of the guys have to say about their respective tempters—even though he already has some idea of which one all of them are going to pick.

But he’s feeling slightly wrong-footed. There’s a bitter aftertaste at the back of his mouth, and he’s barely repressing the need to stand up and leave this fucking pantomime. Pandora’s voice, despite reaching him muffled, is making him want to curl into himself.

No, Regulus is not okay. And yet, he still gives a tight nod, letting his eyes linger on James’ face for longer than he should. As he watches the other man’s expression relaxes a little, most of the wrinkles getting smoothed out, Regulus does feel a bit better.

The rest of it passes in sort of a blur. After the pairs have all been made, the unpaired tempters bid them farewell and return to whatever it is they do all day. Regulus watches them with no small amount of longing, which only gets worse the moment Marlene draps an arm around his shoulders.

After that, they’re all guided to a big and very shiny truck that’s waiting for them right in front of the main door. Regulus can’t say for sure, but he thinks the driver is the same one that took them to the Bonfire. He isn’t surprised to discover Evan sitting in the passenger seat, sitting completely still and with empty eyes glaring forward.

Pandora never seems to be present for the dates. Maybe as a way to give them some privacy, to offer them a false sense of security, so it feels more real and less staged, as if they aren’t all wearing mics or can see the camera inside the car.

He guesses it makes sense for her brother to be there instead, even if he’s never an active participant and only ever seems to watch in silence, bored and uncaring. Evan might be acting as her eyes, because despite his clear detachment, he always appears to be watching. Sure, maybe with little to no interest, but watching nonetheless.

Regulus might be getting paranoid, perhaps it’s because Evan’s presence is unnerving, but he doesn’t trust him. Not one bit.

The ride is short, no longer than twenty minutes, but it feels like a lot longer to Regulus. He’s stiff the whole time, and Marlene must notice it, because she does her best to keep their bodies from touching. There’s small talk, and a lot of laughter, but Regulus can’t find it in himself to join in. He remains quiet, fingers playing with his loose shirt, and eyes fixed on the floor of the truck.

He kind of feels watched throughout the entire journey, but no one ever tries to address him, or include him in the conversation, so he never raises his head. Never discovers who might be responsible for it, or if it’s just his mind, looking to make him even more uncomfortable.

When they arrive at the beach, and Evan explains that the main activity of the date is jet-skiing, Regulus nearly sighs in relief. Sure, it’s still sea related, but at least it doesn’t force him to properly get in the water and swim. He won’t have a good time regardless, but this way there’s no risk of having a panic attack. Or at least, he doesn’t think so.

Regulus doesn’t pay a lot of attention to the instructor that explains how the jet-ski works, because Marlene tells him she’s going to be the one driving whether he likes it or not. He doesn’t even try to complain, because this suits him the best, and she seems quite excited about the whole thing. The instructor arches an eyebrow at them, probably used to the men always being in the driver’s seat, but Regulus raises his own eyebrow back, daring him to say something.

He doesn’t. The instructor merely shrugs after staring in silence for a handful of seconds, and then proceeds to speak directly to Marlene.

Regulus is so out of it that one second he’s kicking sand while Marlene asks the instructor question after question, and then he’s at the back of a jet-ski, both arms wrapped tightly around Marlene’s middle and eyes shut tight.

He doesn’t remember much about it, apart from Marlene whooping and only slowing down when Regulus’ grip on her turned painful. Regulus also remembers faint cackles, and a lot of yelling, with the others trying to make themselves heard over the roaring of the waves.

It goes on forever in Regulus’ mind, but in reality, they’re only in the sea for about half an hour. Or so Marlene tells him. For all he knows, she could be lying. But, then again, that isn’t really her style, so Regulus chooses to believe her.

Once the stupid jet-skiing is done—although Marlene takes them to the shore a bit earlier than the rest of the pairs, which Regulus is quite grateful for—there’s a blanket waiting for them. A picnic on the beach feels painfully cliché, but anything is better than jet-skiing in Regulus’ eyes. He isn’t very hungry, all things considered, his stomach slightly upset, but he’s happy to sit down and drink a nice glass of wine.

Marlene must’ve been starving, though, because she’s reaching for two of the sandwiches even before she sits down on the blanket. Regulus glances at her, amused, as he serves himself some wine and then grabs a beer for her. Marlene isn’t big on wine, especially not red, so he doesn’t even bother asking her if she wants any.

She mumbles a ‘thanks’ through all the chewing, and Regulus turns up his nose at her lack of manners, but refrains from making any comments. He’s spent enough time around her (and Sirius) to be used to it, and besides, she’s been looking after him the whole date in her own way. Regulus might be too awkward to thank her properly, but he can, at the very least, return the favour.

He doesn’t understand why she’s so kind to him. If it was anyone else, Regulus would assume they’re just playing the long game, hoping it’d end with him giving in. But he’s nearly convinced that Marlene isn’t interested in him like that, and is genuinely only seeking his friendship, which is also quite bizarre but for very different reasons.

Still, it’s not like he’s been very nice to her. Not on purpose, of course, Regulus just isn’t a fun person to be around. He used to try to be, back when he was desperate for his brother to like him enough to stay, but he’s come to the conclusion that there’s no point. Pretending to be who you aren’t is exhausting, and Regulus knows that better than anyone.

Besides, there’s no point. People will leave anyway, so you might as well live your life however you want.

“So,” Marlene begins, chewing loudly and then swallowing with some difficulty. She’s nearly done with her second sandwich already. “You’re scared of the ocean?”

“I’m not,” Regulus denies almost immediately, because he isn’t. Not exactly.

“You spent the whole ride trembling like a leaf—”

“I’m not.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know? Everyone is afraid of something. And the ocean is a very valid fear, it’s endless and unknown and quite dangerous, I suppose—”

“I’m not scared of the fucking ocean,” Regulus hisses, grabbing one of the salad tupperwares and stabbing it a bit aggressively with a fork. “I’m just—I’m not a good swimmer, okay? I’m afraid—I’m afraid of drowning.”

Marlene tilts her head, staring wordlessly and slowing down her chewing. “You should’ve said. I could’ve been giving you some lessons at the pool—”

“As if I would’ve let you,” Regulus scoffs, taking his first bite. It’s good, like all the food they’ve been served, but he still really doesn’t have much of an appetite. “Besides, it’s a waste of time. I’m not interested in getting any better. I know enough to survive.”

“But it’d help you to get over your fear,” Marlene points out, reaching out for one of the bags of crisps as soon as she’s done with the sandwiches.

Regulus shrugs, forcing himself to take another bite. “Maybe. But I’m too much of a coward to try.”

Marlene opens the bag, taking a handful of crisps before offering them to Regulus. He hesitates, but ends up grabbing a couple, which seems to satisfy her.

“You agreed to go jet-skiing despite being terrified of being on the water. That doesn’t sound like being a coward to me.”

“I didn’t have much of an option. It was part of the date, and we’re literally on an island, so there aren’t a lot of choices—”

“You think if you had told Pandora she wouldn’t have found an alternative?” Marlene raises both her eyebrows, leaning back until her elbows rest on the blanket.

Regulus shrugs, lowering his gaze as he presses the rim of the glass to his lips. Not even taking a proper sip, just letting the wine stain his lips, its strong scent clearing up his head.

“I mean, probably,” he admits softly. “But I didn’t wanna inconvenience her. Or you, for that matter.”

“Why are you trying to act like a gentleman all of a sudden?” Marlene scoffs, finally opening her can and taking a big gulp of the beer.

“Sorry for wanting to be considerate—”

“You’re not being considerate, you’re being stupid.” She shakes her head, the corners of her mouth curled downwards. “I wouldn’t have minded—”

“Don’t lie,” Regulus snaps, stabbing his salad so furiously he worries he might’ve punctured the tupperware. “You were so bloody excited about jet-skiing. You were more into it than anyone else. It’s probably the only part of this date you enjoyed—”

“Can you stop making assumptions? Just for once in your life?” Marlene laughs incredulously. “Sure, that part was fun, it’s something I’ve always wanted to try, but I could’ve lived. You think I managed to properly enjoy myself while I was concerned about you getting sick? Or going full panic attack on me?”

Regulus raises his head up so quickly his neck cramps, but he doesn’t even wince, too busy searching for a lack of sincerity in Marlene’s expression, in Marlene’s gaze. However, and as soon as their eyes meet, Regulus has to look away, his stomach twisting uncomfortably and getting rid of what little appetite he’d managed.

She hasn’t sounded accusatory, just a bit irritated, and more worried than Regulus has ever seen her. Still, it doesn’t sit right with him, and he desperately wants to hide away, to avoid having to face her and her dark, knowing eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, fingers tightening around his glass for a second. “I didn’t mean to ruin today for you.”

“That’s not—” Marlene stops, leaves the sentence hanging and then lets out a loud groan. Regulus dares to take a peek, and she finds her running her free hand down her face. “God, you’re absolutely impossible, you know?”

“Fuck off,” Regulus says, but it’s weak, even to his own ears. “I know,” he adds quietly.

“I’ve no idea of how Dorcas does it.”

“Honestly, neither do I.”

“Okay, you gotta stop agreeing with me because it’s beginning to give me the creeps,” Marlene huffs out, and it drags a tiny snort out of Regulus, that he tries to cover with a cough. However, and if Marlene’s grin is anything to go by, he isn’t very successful.

“Believe me, this pains me more than it pains you—”

“I seriously doubt it. You’re supposed to go against everything I say out of principle! Don’t fuck this up for me, Black.”

“Oh, so you’re only interested in me because of the arguing and the fighting?”

“Obviously.” Marlene cocks her head to the right, lips curving in a teasing smirk. “It’s not like you have anything better to offer me.”

“How would you know? Huh?” Regulus asks, finishing his glass of wine.

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t want it,” Marlene retorts, and her tone remains playful, but Regulus can tell she means it.

He doesn’t know if he should be offended or not, but the truth is that he isn’t. It’s not like he wants anything Marlene can give him either, no matter how well they get along, or how attractive she might be. Regulus does think she’s quite pretty, from an objective point of view, but she doesn’t make him feel anything, for obvious reasons. He supposes it’s fair, then, that he also doesn’t inspire any sort of emotion in her.

“Good,” Regulus replies, reaching out until Marlene gets the message and gives him the bag of crisps with a roll of her eyes.

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“Why would I? You know I don’t like you like that either.”

“Well, yeah, but don’t you find it a bit insulting?”

“Not at all. I feel like you’re the one who should be worried, considering your job is seducing me and you’ve been doing the exact opposite.”

“Oi!” Marlene exclaims, moving one of her feet to try and kick him. Regulus, who had been expecting it, doesn’t have any problem dodging it. “I did try, okay? It’s not my fault you’re so obsessed with your girlfriend.”

Regulus laughs a little, shifting in his seat. “What can I say? She’s one of a kind.”

“Oh, I’m sure. She has very questionable taste, though—”

“Shut up,” Regulus grumbles, throwing a crisp at her and hitting her in the shoulder. Marlene doesn’t seem too bothered by it, however, as she simply snorts and then reaches out for the offending crisp and pops it in her mouth. “I don’t even know why I picked you for this, you’re being even more insufferable than usual.”

“You love me, really,” Marlene says, sticking her tongue out. Regulus doesn’t know if he scowls at the gesture or her words.

“Whatever lets you sleep at night—”

“And because you love me, you will tell Pandora about your issues with water.”

“I don’t see why that’d be necessary—”

“We’re gonna go on at least another date, Black. It’d be nice if both of us could have fun for a change.”

“Who said anything about another date?” Regulus inquires, going for snarky but failing miserably. He isn’t fooling either of them, anyway.

“Oh, fucking spare me. We already had this conversation and we both know you’re gonna pick me again.” Marlene gives him a very pointed look, clearly done with his bullshit. “So can you just—stop being so bloody stubborn and do this?”

“For you?” Regulus huffs out, crossing his arms.

“For you,” she corrects him, albeit not unkindly.

Regulus’ heart does something very funny at that, warmth spreading all over his chest. He feels oddly vulnerable, and despite the comfort, he isn’t sure if he likes the sensation very much.

“I don’t understand why you care so much,” he sighs, fighting to keep his mouth from curling upwards.

“Because against my better judgement, you’re my friend, okay? Get used to it, loser,” Marlene says, giving him one of her most insufferable smirks.

“Yeah,” Regulus sighs, turning his head slightly and covering his smile with the palm of his hand. He finds that Marlene reminds him quite a bit of Sirius, something warm but painful blooming at the thought. “Okay.”

***

After finally getting over the stupid fucking date—and enjoying it more than expected—Regulus isn’t very worried about the Bonfire. He wasn’t during the first one, either, but being more than aware that they’re bound to get worse as the season progresses, he assumed he was bound to start getting nervous at some point.

However, and with most of his anxiety having been spent on something else, Regulus just can’t be bothered with the Bonfire. He’s, once again, the first one to be ready, making even less of an effort on his outfit than last week. The only rule they were given about the Bonfires when it comes to dress code is to wear something formal. Considering that Regulus has more slacks than actual jeans, and that he still wears some of the fancy shirts his parents gifted him back in the day, it’s not like he has to give it too much thought anyway.

Of course, and to no one’s surprise, the rest of the guys don’t seem to share Regulus’ nonchalance, and he watches with an arched eyebrow how James reaches out for Peter when his legs give out under him, as they make their way towards where Pandora is waiting for them.

“Careful, Pete,” James murmurs, hauling him up and letting him support some of his weight on him when they resume their walking.

“Sorry,” Peter murmurs, dazed. He blinks, looking around him in what might be disorientation. “I got dizzy for a sec.”

“You’re gonna be fine,” Frank reassures him, but he doesn’t sound very convincing with the sombre expression he’s sporting. “We’re all gonna be fine.”

“Yeah,” Kingsley agrees, nodding fast, his smile a bit hysterical. “It’s only the second week anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Famous last words.

Pandora grins widely at them when they finally reach her, patiently watching them sit down on the stools patiently. Tonight she’s wearing a red suit, lips painted the same colour, and heels that make her even taller than she already is. Regulus doesn’t understand how she can walk around with them on a literal island, but considering how amazing she looks, he supposes the possible struggle is worth it.

“Welcome, everyone, to your second Bonfire,” she declares, opening her arms, and Regulus is so familiar with this moment he thinks he could do it himself, without even reading the script. “Your first one went remarkably okay, all things considered, but I know I left some of you feeling a bit lost. How has this past week been like for you, Kingsley?”

He laughs, and despite the sound coming out a bit stilted, Kingsley manages to keep his cool. “A bit weird, if I’m being honest. I’ve been overthinking a lot, but my friends here have been supporting me, every step of the way. They remind me that I’m not alone, and that definitely helps.”

All of them coo, and laugh, while Regulus simply rolls his eyes. Still, he doesn’t try to suppress, and he turns around slightly to give Kingsley a little nod, which the other man returns at the same time that Frank pats him teasingly on the arm.

Regulus might make fun of them constantly, and Kingsley specifically is probably the most annoying of them all, but he isn’t a monster. He’s seen how badly the Bonfires affect them, and even if he can’t be a source of support like James is, he won’t shut them out. He’ll be there in his own way, and hope for it to be enough.

Pandora chuckles, too, her posture becoming more relaxed. “That is so lovely to hear. We’ve all noticed how close you guys are, and let me say your friendship is beautiful to watch.”

Regulus has to bite his tongue to stop a scoff from escaping as he hears all of the men laugh bashfully at her words. Oh, Regulus bets it’s beautiful. Beautiful because of the boost it must’ve given to the ratings. People get attached a lot faster when the participants get along, and getting attached to one or more of them means loyal viewers.

“I gotta ask, though,” Pandora continues, her face turning more serious. “Are your fellow participants the only comfort you’ve had in the house?”

Kingsley appears to be confused for a moment, but then it dawns on him and the grin falls from his lips. He squirms a little in his seat, averting his gaze and looking everywhere but at Pandora.

“Um,” he begins, pausing for a beat just so he can swallow thickly. “Well, the girls have also been really kind. They’re always willing to listen if we’re having a bad day, and they make sure we all—we all have fun.”

Pandora hums, considering. “Anyone in particular?”

“I guess,” Kingsley murmurs, playing with his fingers. “I get along really well with all of them but, erm, Amelia is the one who understands me the best.”

“I see,” she says with a nod. Regulus can’t see properly from where he’s sitting, but he swears her eyes sharpen. “And has anything happened between you two?”

“No!” Kingsley rushes to reply, a nervous chuckle slipping right after. “No, of course not. No matter how comfortable she makes me feel, I—I love Sybill—”

“Are you sure? Because we’ve seen you dance with her at every single party. And quite close, too.”

“Well, yeah, sure, but that’s not—it isn’t like that. It’s just some dancing. We’re simply having some fun.”

“Of course. I’m only wondering if Sybill would see it that way—”

“We all dance at the parties,” James cuts in, his tone unexpectedly harsh. Regulus’ eyebrows shoot up, and he turns around in his seat to glance at James properly. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m sure both Kingsley and Sybill discussed this beforehand, but even if they didn’t, I doubt she’d mind seeing him enjoy himself.”

When Regulus takes a peek at Pandora, he finds her smiling politely, but her lips are pressed together a tad too tight, and she’s squinting at James.

Regulus gulps.

“A couple of nights ago, me and Peter were grinding against each other a bit, because we’re friends and we were tipsy and it was fun,” James goes on, not noticing the clear warning in Pandora’s eyes, or maybe simply not caring. “But I bet that won’t get mentioned, because we’re both men, and he’s a friend, even though it was objectively worse than the kind of dancing Kingsley and Amelia have been doing—”

“James,” Regulus hisses under his breath, making a cross with his arms the moment the other man looks at him.

He blinks at Regulus once, twice, and then he proceeds to shoot a glare his way before returning his focus to Pandora.

Regulus sighs deeply, his head hanging low. Honestly, this man and his big fucking mouth. He doesn’t even know why he bothers trying to drag him out of trouble’s way, when he goes running towards it every single time. Maybe Regulus should let him get what he fucking deserves. It’s not like it’s any of his business, after all.

“And I’m pretty sure none of our girlfriends would consider it cheating,” James speaks up again, somehow sounding even more irritated. “Just how they wouldn’t—”

Pandora raises a hand, and she doesn’t say anything, her expression doesn’t even shift, really, but James shuts his mouth regardless. He seems surprised, as if it was an unconscious choice, and then a little betrayed. It’s sort of sad, but Regulus can’t judge. Pandora can be ridiculously commanding, and he believes that all of them respect her, to a degree. That, or straight up fear her.

There’s a moment of complete silence, heavy and loaded, and then, “James, I’m not trying to imply anything here,” Pandora states, enunciating every word carefully, her voice calm. “I’m just doing my job. And no, there’s nothing wrong with some dancing, doesn’t matter who’s involved. I’m pretty sure I didn’t say otherwise. But there is a difference because what you and Peter did, and what Kingsley and Amelia did. And believe me, it’s not gender.”

James’ jaw is clenched to a dangerous degree, and Regulus’ hands itch with the need to touch, to reassure. But he doesn’t think he’s ever seen the other man look this mad, so he isn’t certain the gesture would be well-received.

Regulus also thinks he’d find the sight a lot hotter under very different circumstances. Because of course an angry James Potter would look stupidly sexy. Of fucking course.

“Do you know what that difference is, James?” Pandora asks him sweetly, mouth curving cruelly. She doesn’t wait for him to reply. “Intent. You and Peter are simply playing, because you said so yourself, you’re friends. You don’t want anything else from each other. And sure, maybe, at a first glance, Kingsley and Amelia are also friends, but the truth is that she wants to be more than that. That’s why it’s not, and could never be, the same.”

She smiles big, showing all her teeth, and James sneers at her, hands curling into fists where they’re resting at his lap. Someone coughs, and Regulus is almost sure it’s Peter, but the air remains tense, with Pandora and James staring coldly at each other.

Moving before he has the chance to think about it, Regulus covers one of James’ knees, giving it a tight squeeze. For a second, he’s convinced that the other man is going to push him away, shift his leg from under his hand so they’re not touching anymore. But after his whole leg goes stiff briefly, James relaxes slightly under the contact, his gaze finding Regulus as he gives him a pathetic attempt of a smile. Still, it’s something. Regulus will take anything at this point.

However, as soon as he looks away, he discovers Pandora watching them. Or more accurately, watching the exact point where Regulus is touching James. Her face is mostly unreadable, but there’s a glint in her eyes Regulus doesn’t like in the slightest.

He pulls his hand back quickly, maybe a bit too quickly, heart pounding in his ears. He doesn’t even check on James, or the face he must be making right now, because he fears it might be enough to fill him with regret.

“Well, now that that’s been all cleared up,” Pandora exclaims, giving a sarcastic clap. Her eyes linger on the knee that Regulus had been touching seconds ago, though, and she glances at him before she returns her attention to Kingsley. “It’s time to focus on our schedule. Where was I?”

Pandora bounces back as if nothing happened, her facade completely intact as she asks a couple more questions to Kingsley. Except, it’s clear that James’ intervention helped, because Kingsley doesn’t sound hesitant anymore. He responds with confidence, and even manages to crack a joke that makes all of them smile.

Still, Regulus is unable to get rid of the tension in his shoulders until much, much later.

Once they finally get started on the images, it turns out that Kingsley didn’t have anything to worry about. Sybill has barely made any progress with her tempter of choice; they’re still trying to get to know each other, and apart from getting along, there’s not a lot of flirting, or any touching. Kingsley gets a bit squirmy in his seat nonetheless, which Regulus supposes he can understand, but all in all, there’s nothing too damning in his video.

The same can’t be said about Frank’s images. The heartbroken girl they all saw last week is completely gone, and Alice has finally warmed up to the group, going to every party and participating in all of the games. She does establish boundaries, and is careful to never go too far in the physical aspect, but when it comes to the emotional side of things… Regulus might be reading too much into it, but she seems to be genuinely connecting with Amos.

They share quite the tender moment, and they both fall asleep cuddling on the couch. It’s definitely not a crime, nor is it necessarily romantic, but it’s still not nice to watch, especially if you’re one Frank Longbottom. By the time the tablet goes dark, Frank is way too pale, almost as if he’s seen a ghost.

“What the fuck,” he keeps murmuring quietly, over and over again. “What the fuck.”

“Are you okay?” Pandora asks gently, even though the answer is clear. “Is it a surprise to see Alice like this?”

Frank doesn’t talk much. He doesn’t seem able to. He appears to be in a bit of a shock, and not even Pandora can pull him out of it, regardless of how sweet and charming she is to him. She ends up not having any other choice but to move onto Regulus.

He’s brief with his answers, and definitely drier than he was last week, still irritated by how Pandora spoke to James. She had been in the right, and James was the one who got hostile all of a sudden, but unlike her, he meant well. And, well, Regulus is quite biassed, and despite being ashamed of it, he doesn’t have any issues admitting it to himself.

Regulus has always been too weak for handsome boys.

Pandora doesn’t seem to mind his terseness, putting on the video once she realises Regulus isn’t going to cooperate tonight. Not like he usually does, anyway.

It’s more of what he already saw during the last Bonfire. Dorcas being the life of the party, being best friends with the girls and shutting down any of the tempters that try to get a bit too smart with her. There’s even a clip of her complaining about him to Mary, who listens avidly and is quick to take Dorcas’ side, and Regulus has to swallow down a laugh.

That fucking cunt, honestly. Regulus misses her terribly.

Peter turns around to give him an apologetic look, but he simply shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips as he continues to watch Dorcas. It fills him with joy, to see her have so much fun. To have the confirmation that this experience is worth it, if only because she’s having the time of her life. Regulus doesn’t doubt that she’ll like it even better if she could kiss some girls, but beggars can’t be choosers, and all that.

Pandora doesn’t interrogate him much when the video is over. Mostly, because there’s not a single thread she can pull at to try and make him insecure. Dorcas’ behaviour is absolutely flawless, and they all know it.

Peter is next, and Regulus hates to admit it, but he had all the reason to be terrified of tonight. Mary is the girl who’s made the most progress, getting a bit too touchy with Fabian. They seem to spend every minute together, and the shameless flirting even manages to make Regulus uncomfortable. She hasn’t crossed any hard lines just yet, but she takes part in all of the games. They all watch her lick chocolate off Fabian’s chin and then let him grope her a little when they dance during a party.

Regulus can’t hide his grimace, and he isn’t surprised to see all of the boys reaching out to Peter as soon as the video is over. The poor guy stutters through every question Pandora throws his way, and for a moment, Regulus fears he might just burst into tears.

There’s a lot of emotion going on in Peter’s face right now. It’s like he can’t decide between being upset or straight up furious.

When James’ turn finally arrives, James is still fussing over Peter, exactly like it had happened last week. Except this time it’s even worse, so the man looks about ready to leave his seat and embrace Peter in his arms.

However, Pandora drags his attention away ruthlessly, being extra invasive with her questions. But James stands his ground, eyes narrowing slightly as he answers without missing a beat, his trust in Lily seemingly unwavering.

Regulus knows better, though. Knows that James’ insecurities have little to do with his girlfriend.

That’s why he holds his hand out even before James’ video starts, arching an eyebrow when the other man stares at his open palm with a tiny frown. It takes a beat, but then James is beaming and taking his hand, interlacing their fingers with an ease that makes him turn a little pink.

Regulus had promised himself he wasn’t gonna make a habit out of it, back when he had taken pity on James in the previous Bonfire. And yet, here he is, because he’s a fucking loser and way too gay for his own good.

They hold hands during the entirety of James’ images, even though the other man doesn’t really need it, considering how perfect a girlfriend Lily seems to be. Sure, she gets a little flirty with Barty every now and then, which Regulus finds baffling because of how much of a pervert the guy is. Is he attractive? Absolutely, and quite funny, too, but considering who Lily is dating, he doesn’t understand what she could see in someone like him.

Apart from that, and a late night conversation in which Barty wraps an arm around her and Lily rests her head on his shoulder, talking about some concerns she has about hers and James’ relationship, there really isn’t anything bad. And considering that excerpt of conversation is probably taken out of context, he isn’t even sure if he should count it.

James, though… He definitely wasn’t that happy with what he saw, if how tense he’s become is anything to go by. It might be due to his dislike for Barty, but Regulus can’t tell if there’s something else. Lily has been great, and no one doubts her love for James, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be apprehensive, or even anxious, about the whole thing.

That’s why Regulus doesn’t let go, even after the video is done, even after Pandora informs him that there’s no more images and begins asking about how he’s feeling, what he’s thinking. Even after they’re caught by the others, who glance at their joined hands with what looks like pity.

They’re still holding hands when they make their ways back to the car, and Regulus pretends he’s not sort of hoping James won’t ever let go.

Chapter Text

The sight that greets James when he finally emerges from the kitchen is nothing short of devastating. Peter is lying on the floor, skin too pale and eyes shut tight, while Frank is in the couch closest to him, shoulders slouched and gaze unfocused, as he continues to stare at the telly, which is currently turned off. Kingsley is in one of the armchairs, curled into himself, looking like he’s about to nod off. He probably didn’t sleep much last night, but then again, James doesn’t think any of them did.

Apart from Regulus, that is.

He’s resting in that one loveseat that James already associates with him in his mind, because it seems that it’s become his favoured seat. Regulus looks relaxed and well-rested, and he’s reading a thick book, whose title James has been trying to find out for the past hour. He’s pretty sure it’s not the one Regulus had during the first week—a collection of Rimbaud’s poems—considering the difference in size. His current novel could be used like a weapon in the wrong hands.

Regulus doesn’t appear to mind the state in which everyone around him is. In fact, he looks quite content with the silence and the peace, and even though James wants to scold him for his lack of interest, he can only feel fondness when he stares at him.

“Guys,” James calls to them, not surprised when he doesn’t receive a response. He doesn’t even get an acknowledgement, and he wouldn’t think he’s being heard if it weren’t because Regulus looks up from the current page he’s in, eyes focusing on James. “Lunch is ready, c’mon.”

Regulus gives a little nod, before closing his book gently. He leaves it right next to him on the loveseat, but the cover is facing down, and James has to swallow down a disappointed sigh. Then, the other man raises his arms over his head and stretches his whole body, almost like a cat. His thin shirt rides up at the movement, a strip of pale skin dotted with moles suddenly in James’ line of sight.

His mouth turns uncomfortably dry. And when a muffled groan escapes Regulus’ mouth, James has to avert his gaze, feeling oddly overwhelmed as some heat climbs up his neck.

By the time James’ heartbeat has returned to normal, Regulus is already on his feet, rubbing at his eyes distractedly as he begins to make his way towards the kitchen. He never makes it too far, however, because James’ hand shoots out and wraps itself around his wrist. When their gazes meet, Regulus seems to be taken aback that he doesn’t bark one of his snarky comments, or even try to wrench himself free.

“What?” he asks James, blinking slowly. It shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. Regulus must’ve been so into his book that half his mind is still stuck there.

James nods towards the rest of the men, who haven’t moved from their respective positions. “We gotta wait for them.”

Regulus continues to blink at him for a couple of seconds before he chances a glance at the others. When he finally returns his focus to James, his expression hasn’t changed.

“Why? They’re clearly not coming.” Regulus shrugs, mouth parting to give way to a yawn. It’s not long before James is doing the exact same thing, and when it’s over, he finds Regulus offering him a sheepish smile.

“They need to eat,” James protests, brows furrowing together.

“And they will,” Regulus reassures him, even though he doesn’t sound very convinced. “Just not now. We shouldn’t pressure them. It’s bound to make them feel worse.”

“It’s not pressuring them, though, it’s just giving them a—a little push! There’s nothing wrong with that. Some food will cheer them up for sure—”

“I doubt they even have much of an appetite. They look absolutely heartbroken.”

James doesn’t want to admit it, not when it comes to this, but Regulus is right. Frank and Peter slept until late, and didn’t touch their breakfast, arguing that it was nearly lunchtime and there was no point. And Kingsley had been already up by the time James had come into the kitchen, which had been new, considering he’s a late riser, and James is used to being the first of the boys up.

He suspects that Kingsley hadn’t gone to sleep at all last night. His eyebags are quite telling, even though he had simply said he hadn’t rested well enough when asked about it. James still isn’t sure if he ate something, either, but he’s had at least three coffees so far this morning, which James doesn’t think can be healthy.

And it’s not like he blames them for being like this. He doesn’t. They’re upset, and if nothing else, James is glad to see they aren’t pretending otherwise. That they’re letting themselves feel it and act accordingly, even if that means silence and empty looks and getting some distance.

But he can’t just stand and watch when his friends are neglecting their bodies like this. James doesn’t want to force them to do anything, he doesn’t want to make them feel even worse, but they can’t not eat. He’ll leave them alone after that, they can even skip tonight’s party until everyone is a bit more in the mood, but he won’t let them continue skipping meals. It might seem innocent enough, especially if it’s a one time thing, but James is aware of how dangerous that kind of behaviour is. How easily it can turn into a habit, especially when the circumstances allow it.

He doesn’t think the show is going to get any better. Quite the opposite, really. And if they’re already acting like this, James doesn’t even want to imagine in what state he might find them, a couple of weeks from now.

James is trying to do his best to remain positive. To believe that no one will cross the line. That this is merely a bump on the road, something they’ll get over once the season is over, and that’ll help strengthen everyone’s relationships, James’ included. Just like Lily had told him time and time again when he had mentioned doubts, that he wasn’t sure about this whole dating show thing. She’s never been wrong when it matters, and more importantly, she wouldn’t have dragged James into this if she didn’t genuinely believe it to be a good thing.

Right? Right?

Maybe he should’ve listened to Sirius. He hadn’t been a fan of the whole concept, and Remus hadn’t been, either, although he had pretended to be more supportive. Maybe for Lily’s sake, who knows. But Sirius had been open and loud about his dislike. About his concerns. He had feared that Lily would slip up—not James, though, never James, because his faith in him was forever unwavering. Or that it would negatively affect their dynamic, turn them jealous, or obsessive. Fill them with resentment.

James is beginning to realise he might have been right, although not exactly in the way he had expected. Because James isn’t feeling especially jealous, after seeing Lily flirt with Barty. Sure, it doesn’t sit right with him; that’s his girlfriend, and Barty seems like a complete asshole, but that’s about it. It hasn’t made him obsessive, either. In fact, he’s barely thought about Lily these past few days, outside of when people ask or bring her up, or he’s pondering about the show and what might come next.

And that’s… that’s not normal, is it? To be so detached? So uncaring? Sure, the Bonfires are affecting James just the same, and he’s been feeling overwhelmed, and lost, and very confused, but it’s not—he isn’t really—

“James?” Regulus’ voice is velvety soft, and it reaches him distant, muffled, but it’s enough to pull him out of his head.

He blinks a few times, taking a look around as he does his best to return to the present moment, noticing that none of his friends are watching them. In fact, James wouldn’t even be sure they’re breathing if it weren’t because they’re not that far away from him, and he can see it.

Regulus is staring at him, though. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, and his gaze is sliding all over James’ face, searching for something and seemingly unable to find it.

James aches under those grey eyes, heart making a painful flip and stomach twisting.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, unsure of why he’s apologising. James simply wants to wipe that expression off Regulus’ face. “I didn’t—”

Regulus shakes his head, his frown worsening as he steps closer to James. “It’s fine. I just—you went somewhere else.”

James swallows, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and does his best to attempt a smile. He fails miserably, of course, and it ends up turning into more of a grimace.

“You caught me,” James admits and he means for his tone to sound light, but it comes out strained instead, and his eyes fall onto the floor. “I got distracted for a moment there, I guess—”

“James,” Regulus murmurs, and he immediately shuts up, lips pursing. “Are you okay?”

He snaps his head up, concern clear in Regulus’ steely gaze, and James’ mouth opens until it forms an ‘o’.

“Because you can talk to me,” Regulus continues, after he realises James isn’t going to answer him any time soon. “You know that, right? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course, but… Well, we’ve already been through this. You shouldn’t carry any of this alone.”

“Reg—”

“You were so quiet last night, when we got home after the Bonfire.”

James watches as Regulus rolls his lower teeth between his teeth, and his eyes follow the movement with interest. He even has a hard time looking away, fixated on how the white digs into pretty pink.

“I had a lot on my mind,” James tells him, finally averting his gaze with a little blink. “But nothing too bad. It’s not like Lily has given me any reasons to worry. I’m fine.”

Regulus exhales loudly through his nose. “How many times am I gonna have to repeat myself? That doesn’t mean anything. I know you hate the Bonfires. And it might not be because of whatever your girlfriend is doing, but it still matters.”

“You don’t seem to care, though,” James points out, not surprised to feel Regulus tense slightly under his hold. “And you must care, in your own way.”

“I told you, my issues have nothing—”

“To do with that, I know. And I get it, but there are issues, right?”

“Some,” Regulus concedes with a shrug, almost reluctantly.

“And yet you won’t let anyone take care of you.”

Regulus huffs, shakes his head a little. He leans away slightly, and James tightens his hold on Regulus’ wrist instinctively, making the other man freeze up mid-movement. James can feel his cheeks heating up slightly when Regulus arches an eyebrow at him, one of the corners of his mouth beginning to curl upwards, and he loosens his grip. Just in case. He doesn’t want Regulus to think that he’d actually keep him here against his will. Or force him to do anything he doesn’t want.

Even if part of James is always itching to have Regulus near him.

“It’s only fair, no?” the other man says, shrugging once again. “I don’t take care of anyone either.”

“That’s not true,” James responds without missing a beat.

“James—”

“You’ve been taking care of me since the start.”

Regulus clicks his tongue and turns his head away, but not before James catches the soft pink colouring his face. He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from smiling, aware that Regulus wouldn’t take it in the best way.

“I don’t know about that—” Regulus begins to argue, his voice barely a murmur.

“You have,” James insists, because he’d hear no complaints on the matter. He might let Regulus win when it comes to a lot of shit, because he’s biassed like that, and Regulus is a stubborn little thing, but not this. Never this.

“James—” Regulus sighs, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“You have,” he repeats again, with feeling, and ignores the need to touch Regulus’ face, grab his chin and force those lovely eyes of his to focus on him. Show him he means everything he’s saying. “You’ve been there for me every step of the way. Even when I didn’t let you.”

“Even when you were being an asshole about it,” Regulus grumbles under his breath, and it drags an incredulous laugh out of James.

“What? When have I—”

“A few days ago,” Regulus sniffs, and even though James can’t be sure because of all the black curls obstructing his vision, James is sure the other man is pouting.

“Wait… are you talking about that morning we were all discussing our girlfriends and you jumped in to protect my feelings?”

Regulus gives a little nod, and James chuckles once more, sliding the hand he still has wrapped around Regulus’ wrist until their palms press against each other. James interlaces their fingers, and he’s sort of expecting Regulus to snatch his own hand away, to put some distance between them and draw a line. James is very comfortable with physical touch, but Regulus makes him feel so nervous that he suddenly becomes clumsy, even with something that’s usually second-nature to him.

But Regulus not only allows it, he even grabs James’ hand a little firmer, as if warning him against letting go. James would give anything to see the kind of face he’s making right now, but Regulus keeps his expression closed off.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” James says, eyes falling onto their joined hands. His smile turns a little giddy. “But I didn’t like how you spoke to them.”

“They were being prats,” Regulus huffs out, like that’s all the excuse he needs.

James can’t find it in himself to be mad. “Not on purpose. And it’s not like they were exactly wrong. They have it a lot worse than me.”

Regulus scoffs loudly, and James seems to have offended him enough to get him to whip his head around, until they’re facing each other again. Regulus’ eyebrows are scrunched together as he surveys James, but he’s too happy to have the other man’s complete attention to cower under his glare.

“Bullshit,” Regulus mutters, giving James’ hand a squeeze that borders on painful. “They just love to feel sorry for themselves. But they haven’t seen anything yet. No actual cheating has even happened. It’s not your fault you’re a lot better at keeping a cool head—”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” James objects, light and casual, but Regulus seems to catch the truth in the statement, because he’s frowning immediately after.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he rushes to say, the word falling from his lips as a reflex.

“James.” Regulus shortens the distance between them, until there’s barely a handful of centimetres of space, and James can’t help but squirm under the scrutiny.

“I just,” James murmurs, and then pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. “I feel like I’m losing my mind a little, Reg.”

“Is this about Lily?” Regulus asks.

“Yes, but also not really. It’s hard to explain. I don’t even understand it myself, and I think that’s what’s bothering me the most.”

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to, but maybe…” Regulus leaves the sentence hanging for a moment, swallowing thickly while he stares up at James. “Maybe we could try to make sense of it together?”

James sighs, and it’s a soft, starstruck sound. His chest is full and tight, nearly about to burst, and so overwhelmed he doesn’t even know what to do with himself.

He wants to let go of Regulus, push him away as far as possible and hide away from those pretty grey eyes. He wants to step impossibly closer, until there isn’t a sliver of space between their bodies and he can tuck himself neatly under Regulus’ skin. He wants to scream at the other man until his throat bleeds, and he wants to cradle his face between his hands like it’s something sacred.

James wants—he just wants. So much that it leaves him feeling nauseous.

“You’re so good to me,” it’s the only thing he manages to whisper.

“Shut up,” Regulus retorts, but his voice cracks at the end. “It’s just basic human decency. You don’t have to go all sentimental on me now.”

James snorts and shakes his head, but it takes a little to find his voice again. He has to swallow a couple of times, until the tangle in his vocal chords loosens enough to allow him to respond.

“It’s true, though. You’re so sweet, Reg—”

“We both know that’s a lie. There’s a reason why you and Marlene are literally the only people who tolerate me in this house—”

“How can you be so blind?” James cuts him off with a disbelieving laugh. “Everyone here fucking adores you, Reg.”

Regulus scoffs, tilting his head back. “Please—”

“They do! I swear they do!” The only reason why James doesn’t throw up his hands in the air is because he’s more than a little reluctant to let go of Regulus. He hopes that his face conveys his frustration well enough, though.

“You have a tendency to think the best of people, James,” Regulus sighs with a brief shake of his head. “And I—I really appreciate that about you. But sometimes others aren’t as nice, or as loving as you—”

“Okay, whatever, so you won’t believe me when it comes to them. That’s fine, I get it.” James rolls his eyes good-naturedly, before he grins at Regulus. “But you can trust me when I say I adore you. That one, at least, I can assure you is—”

Regulus makes a choked off noise, and James doesn’t even have a chance to panic before the other man is looking at him with wide eyes, his whole face going pale for a second before it begins to turn an outrageous shade of red.

“Don’t,” Regulus hisses, fingers clenching around James’. Somehow, the gesture feels like a warning. “Don’t, James. You—fuck, you shouldn’t say shit like that.”

James pouts, uncaring of how childish Regulus probably finds it. “Why not? It’s the tru—”

“Shut up, James, I mean it,” Regulus stresses, and there’s a nearly manic glow in his eyes. James isn’t sure if he’s about to start laughing, or about to burst into tears. “This isn’t—you can’t—” he stops, groans pathetically, and then squeezes James’ hand tightly. “You don’t get to do this to me.”

“Do what?” James asks, head cocking to the side. He squeezes back, hoping to soothe Regulus, to make him see he didn’t mean to upset him. That he doesn’t understand why he appears to be so devastated by all this.

James knows Regulus probably doesn’t enjoy their friendship as much as James himself does. He doubts he’ll care to keep contact once the show’s over, even though James intends to make an effort, to everything in his power to make sure Regulus stays in his life in some way. But he never expected him to react so badly at James telling him he cares. He thinks he’s been quite obvious about it, and Regulus has been surprisingly receptive to it.

Like. James doesn’t want to brag, or anything, but he’s pretty sure Regulus favours him over everyone else. Even Marlene. Sure, she and Regulus spend quite a lot of time together, and they hang out a lot during parties while James dances with everyone else, but it’s not the same. It can’t be. What he and Regulus have—nothing else can compare. James refuses to believe it.

“There’s no point in me explaining it to you,” Regulus says, a scowl taking over his face. “It’s fucking stupid, anyway.”

“Well, I can’t stop whatever it is that seems to upset you so much if you don’t tell me what it is,” James grumbles. “I don’t read minds, Reg. And if it’s so stupid anyway, why does it matter?”

“It just does, okay?” Regulus snaps, tugging weakly at their joined hands in a half-hearted attempt to let go.

“I’m only trying to understand—”

“I don’t want you to! I just want you to, to bloody listen to me, and stop when I tell you to!”

“Stop what? Caring about you?” James laughs mirthlessly, his nails digging a little into the back of Regulus’ hand. The other man doesn’t flinch. “Because I can’t, Reg. Not even if I wanted to, and I don’t. So.”

Regulus blinks at him once, and there’s a flash of something in his eyes, but it’s gone so fast James is unable to discern what it was, or what it meant.

“Fuck off,” Regulus tells him heatedly, and even though he’s being a little insufferable, and James thinks he might want to punch him, he can’t look away from him, fascinated by the cold fire in his eyes, the colour in his cheeks, the angry curl of his mouth. “Seriously, fuck off. You can’t keep playing with my head like this, James, it’s not fucking fair—”

“What are you even talking about?” James exclaims, confused and frustrated and feeling more than a little crazy. He’s started to raise his voice, and he despises how easily Regulus got him to do that, how easily he slides under his skin. “How am I playing with your head? I mean everything I’ve said to you, Regulus. Do you think I—?”

“But you don’t! Not in that way—”

“What fucking way!?”

“That way!” Regulus yells, as if that’s supposed to mean anything to James.

“Um,” someone else says, and it takes him a second, maybe two, but the moment James recognises the voice as Peter’s, he finally turns his head away from Regulus. His eyebrows shoot up when he realises the rest of the guys are all staring at them in different states of incredulity, and James is too relieved to finally see them act like human beings again to feel embarrassed about having an audience for his and Regulus’ argument. “Guys, I think you both should calm down a little.”

“They’re holding hands,” Kingsley mumbles to no one in particular. “They’re holding hands. They’re in the middle of a fight and they’re fucking holding hands—”

James feels Regulus tense up, and he isn’t surprised when Regulus’ hold on him loosens up considerably, just disappointed. Almost as a reflex, he holds on even tighter, stopping the other man before he can free himself, and when he chances a glance at Regulus, he’s clenching his jaw, and there’s a certain stiffness to his posture.

Still, he doesn’t try to let go of James again.

“Okay,” Frank says a bit too loudly. He rubs at his eyes, a tired sigh slipping past his lips, and then he’s finally straightening up a little. It’s the most awake he’s looked all morning. “I feel like we’re all a bit too tense, and maybe it’s better if—”

“And I feel like this is none of your fucking business, and you all need to go back to playing dead,” Regulus states calmly, but there’s a vicious edge to his tone, venom dripping from his every word.

Frank doesn’t seem particularly offended by Regulus’ sudden attack, but he does look quite taken aback, so it might be due to shock. That, or he’s already grown used to the other man’s outbursts, which don’t happen often but are still frequent enough to not be completely unexpected.

Peter and Kingsley also react with wide eyes and arched eyebrows, but there’s no indignation in their expressions, no sneers curving their mouths or scrunched noses.

And yet, it rubs James the wrong way nonetheless, his stomach tightening and his teeth gritting together. He has to make an active effort to keep his fingers from clenching and crushing Regulus’ hand under their grip.

“Leave them out of this,” James grunts, and he tries his best to keep his tone low, the sentence only meant for Regulus’ ears. But it’s too quiet in the room, with some of the girls still in their rooms and the others sunbathing next to the pool, so James doesn’t quite manage it.

Regulus scoffs, his lips curling up in a mocking smile as his eyes bore into James’. “They’re the ones trying to stick their noses in someone else’s business.”

“We just don’t like seeing you guys fight like this—” Peter attempts to explain, raising both hands placatingly.

“Shut up,” Regulus tells him in an aggravated hiss, turning his head enough just so he can glare at the blonde man.

James tugs sharply at their still-interlaced hands to pull Regulus closer to his side. The other man stumbles slightly, but he’s too surprised to resist, his other hand coming up to rest on James’ chest as he tries to regain his balance.

“You shut up,” James snaps, eyes narrowed into slits while Regulus blinks up at him, still processing the situation.

As soon as his brain catches up, though, his whole face twists with a fury James doesn’t think he’s ever seen in him before.

James hates to admit it, but he’s sort of obsessed. He couldn’t explain it even if he wanted to, because it’s not like he enjoys having Regulus angry at him. Sure, there’s some excitement in a fight, and he got into his fair share when he was a teen, to the point he’s come to even look forward to them on occasion. James doesn’t see himself as someone violent, but he can be quite temperamental, and he isn’t afraid of using his fists if the situation demands it.

It might be the attention. Having all of Regulus’ focus on him, regardless of it being good or bad. Or maybe the proximity, the heat emanating from both their bodies, the heaving chests and the agitated heartbeats.

James thinks he can blame it on the adrenaline. The thrill. A furious Regulus is definitely a sight to behold, and he’s sure that if he wasn’t also infuriated, being so close to the other man when he looks like this would be enough to distract him. To make him forget why they had been arguing in the first place.

Regulus is such an infuriating person. James doesn’t even understand it himself, why he feels so drawn to him, when they continue to clash repeatedly. Sure, most of the time they manage to get along quite well, and despite the occasional doubt, he’s pretty sure Regulus appreciates his company as much as James appreciates his. But that doesn’t erase the fact that they argue a little too much, always getting a rise out of each other with astounding ease, sometimes without even actually trying.

James doesn’t get it. He isn’t confrontational like this with his friends, or his parents, or even with Lily, really. They don’t fight a lot, and even when they do, it tends to stay calm, and patient, and full of understanding. They’ve been together long enough to know how to communicate. Even if, sometimes, that means swallowing back his feelings, what he truly wants to say. The point is always to stop the arguments from escalating, right? The only person who’s ever managed to goad him into a fight like this is Sirius, when he’s in one of his moods. Even then, it’s a rare thing for James to rise to the bait—he usually leaves it to Remus.

But Regulus makes it impossible to stay collected. To be mature and sensible. He prods and pushes and slips between James’ fingers as soon as he tries to grab him, just to come back later, when he least expects it, always with a fucking vengeance. He makes James feel clumsy, and confused, and more than a little dumb. Tender like an open wound. Like he’ll start bleeding helplessly if Regulus presses deeply enough.

James hates it, but he’s also so addicted to the feeling he doesn’t dare try to stop it. He isn’t even sure he could if he wanted to.

“Or what?” Regulus whispers, their faces so dangerously close James feels the other man’s breath hitting his mouth. “What are you gonna do, huh, James?”

He gulps, all the anger in his chest giving way to something warmer but equally devastating. Something that James has no idea of what to name, and is too afraid to try and find out.

James can’t think. Regulus is too close, and he’s too angry, and there’s too many people watching. They’re still holding hands—even though he would’ve thought that Regulus would’ve let go by now, and the contact is overwhelming, but also not enough. James is seconds away from losing his goddamn mind, and he isn’t even sure of why.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Regulus goes on when James simply continues to stare in silence.

You should be, he thinks.

“Jem?” James blinks furiously at the sound of Emma’s voice. It takes him a second, but he finally looks away from Regulus’ face, searching for the girl. “Is everything okay? The food’s gonna go cold at this rate.”

He finds her peeking out from the kitchen entrance, the door ajar as she watches everyone in the living room, a small frown between her eyebrows. Her expression seems to soften almost immediately when her gaze lands on James, though, a smile already pulling at her lips when she opens the door even wider and steps inside.

Emma heads straight towards James, and the noise of her steps is what seems to pull Regulus out of his daze. He tilts his head back, and as soon as he notices Emma moving closer to them, he wrenches his hand away, taking a couple of steps back in the process.

James focuses on him once again and his heart clenches when he sees the tension in Regulus’ face. His face is covered in wrinkles, and his breathing is still a bit too uneven, almost like he’s a moment away from hyperventilating.

And just like that, any remnants of James’ irritation completely disappear and are replaced with concern. He makes an attempt to step closer to Regulus, one of his arms extended with the intention of reaching out, but the other man flinches, and moves even further away from him. Before James can try to get nearer, Emma slides right in front of him, halting his advance.

“You alright?” she questions, visibly worried. She wraps her hands around her biceps as she stands on her toes so she can take a better look at his face, and James barely represses a wince. “I thought I heard yelling. Did something happen?”

James shakes his head and forces a smile. Somehow, it seems to fool Emma, who relaxes slightly and even reciprocates the gesture.

“Not really,” he lies. “Just had a bit of a disagreement.”

“I told you to be careful and not pressure them,” she scolds him gently, giving a tiny squeeze to his arms. James bites the inside of his cheek until it fills his mouth with blood, focusing on the sour taste to stop himself from pushing Emma as far away from him as possible. “They’re going through a lot. You all are. And I know food’s important, but if they really aren’t up to it, they can eat later.”

“No,” Regulus speaks, and James’ breath hitches. When he dares to take a peek at him over Emma’s head, he’s disappointed to find Regulus staring at the others. His expression is completely empty. “We’re all eating now.”

James frowns a little, but before he can say anything, the others are murmuring their assent, slowly but surely getting up from their respective seats and beginning to make their way towards the kitchen. James gapes, mouth slightly parted, and momentarily considers pinching himself.

Emma looks as confused as he feels, but she’s quick to recover, openly beaming at them all and shaking James a little.

“That’s great!” she exclaims with a little giggle. “Man, I’m so glad to see them acting more like themselves. Me and the girls have been worried sick since last night.”

Regulus scoffs, and it’s loud enough that all of them hear it. Emma turns around, glancing at him, but she doesn’t seem very upset. James can’t tell if she’s just pretending, or if she genuinely doesn’t mind.

“I think you’re really gonna enjoy dessert today, Reg,” she says, sounding sincere, and Regulus arches an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” he asks, not even bothering to hide the derisiveness in his tone.

Any other time James would’ve called him off for being so unnecessarily rude, but they’ve argued enough for the day, and he can’t find it in himself to open his mouth.

She grins sweetly at him. “Me and Jem baked chocolate-chip biscuits together! They’re still cooling off, but I think they’ve turned out great.”

One of Regulus’ eyes twitches violently, his gaze landing on James. They look at each other quietly for a few seconds, James having no idea of what his face is doing, or why Regulus is watching him so intensely all of a sudden.

But then the other man lets out a slow breath and averts his eyes, and James is left feeling like he’s failed at some sort of test somehow.

“How cute,” Regulus deadpans. “I don’t think I’ll be having any, though. I’m afraid I’m not really a fan.”

Emma laughs softly, as if expecting Regulus to join her, but when it’s clear he isn’t going to, she stops abruptly, wrinkling her nose.

“I thought you had a sweet tooth,” she mumbles, glancing at James briefly before returning her attention to Regulus. “Jem told me you did when we were brainstorming about what to make.”

Regulus smiles a little, but it’s disdainful and cold. “Well, he was wrong,” he lies, before grabbing a sandwich and leaving the living room without another word.

Emma sighs, murmuring something about going to look for the rest of the girls to let them all know about lunch. James only nods, and he barely feels the caress she leaves on his back before exiting the living room.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, gaze unfocused, wondering what the fuck did he do wrong, but it’s long enough that Frank ends up having to come grab him, paying him no mind when he mentions he isn’t that hungry after all.

And no, the irony isn’t lost on him.

Regulus doesn’t look up from his plate a single time during the entirety of lunch. And when Emma gets up to bring them the bowl filled with biscuits, Regulus stands up with enough force for the chair to wobble precariously, and storms out of the room.

***

James isn’t embarrassed to admit that he’s a bit scared when Pandora comes to pay them a visit.

It’s not like she’s given him a reason to be afraid, because besides the date, this is only the second time she’s come to the house unannounced. She can’t be here for the same reason now, considering it’s only been a few days since then, and maybe it’s the not knowing that’s making him so nervous. Or maybe it’s because James has come to associate her with anxiety and despair.

Maybe it’s just that he doesn’t like her very much.

He’s the last one to find out, because he and Emma had been outside, cuddling in the big swing on the little patch of grass next to the hot tub. They had been talking, about how James is holding up, and Emma’s feelings, and even a bit about Regulus, too, because she had been worried they were still mad at each other.

They’re not. Or, at least, James isn’t. And Regulus hasn’t been treating him differently, either. The day after the argument, Regulus had behaved as if nothing had happened, still keeping mostly to himself and sometimes hanging out with Marlene. But he didn’t seem to mind it when James approached him, and he tolerated his company just fine.

James thinks he should be relieved. But he can’t help but feel that they need to talk about it. Get to the root of the problem. Sure, it hadn’t been that serious in the first place, but Regulus had looked so upset, so hurt… It doesn’t sit right with him, the idea that the other man might be bottling up what he’s truly feeling about this whole thing, just to appease him. To keep him happy, and to make sure that this fragile balance they’ve created in the house doesn’t come crashing down on them. James supposes he can’t blame him for putting on a brave face for once, when he’s been doing that exact same thing since day one.

However, Emma sees right through him, and James hadn’t been too surprised when she had brought Regulus up.

It had been weird, talking to her about him. He isn’t sure about why. They’re friends, and he’s shared more about himself with her than he has with almost anyone else in the house. James is aware that Emma cares about him as a person, regardless of the attraction she feels for him, and he feels like he can trust her, at least to a certain degree. And sure, if he’s being honest with himself, there’s someone else he’d rather be cuddling and chatting with, but he doubts that someone would be willing.

James does feel a bit guilty about said person not being Lily, though.

Ranting a bit about Regulus and their relationship to someone else had helped in the end, even James had been a bit reluctant at first, doing his best to be purposefully vague. Emma hadn’t had to press him on the matter, and she hadn’t called him out for not being forthcoming with the details. She had simply listened, and before James could notice, he had found himself opening up to her more than he had intended. Sharing some of his insecurities and concerns. His fear of losing Regulus even before the show was over.

Emma hadn’t offered any advice once he had finished. She had simply comforted him, and reminded him that she was there for him always.

It had felt very nice. The subsequent silence, too, despite James not being a big fan of it. He gets uncomfortable quickly when it’s too quiet for an extended period of time, especially when he’s in company of someone he’s not that close with. But it hadn’t felt wrong with Emma, so when the conversation was over, neither of them tried to change the topic, or come up with something else to talk about.

That’s how Regulus finds them. Curled up on the swing, Emma tucked into his side as James caresses her back distractedly, both of them lost in thought.

James can’t help tense up slightly. He’s always glad to see the other man, don’t get him wrong, but with how weird he’s been feeling these past few days… Well, he isn’t sure of where they stand. He doesn’t even know if Regulus is still upset and just pretending, or if he simply doesn’t care that much. Both options are fucking terrifying.

“There you are,” Regulus murmurs, stopping right in front of them. His jaw is clenched, and his shoulders look nearly as stiff as James’ own. “Sorry to interrupt the cuddling session, but you need to come with me, Potter.”

He does his best to stop his face from twisting at the use of his surname. It’s okay when Regulus uses it when they’re bickering. James even kind of likes it, because he knows the other man is just playing, and the teasing edge that appears in his voice never fails to send a thrill down his spine. It’s fun, and it makes him closer to Regulus, in a way. Like they’re sharing some type of inside joke, even though it’s something nearly everyone in the house has done before while bantering.

There’s no playfulness in Regulus’ words now, though. There’s not a single emotion, in fact, or any kind of inflection, his gaze empty as he stares down at him.

James has the intense urge to scream. He has no idea of what he’s done wrong now, why Regulus seems so mad at him again, and out of fucking nowhere. They’ve barely interacted all day, because the other man had been too busy spending all of his time in Marlene’s company. James doesn’t understand how he’s managed to annoy him this much just by existing.

“Is something wrong?” Emma asks right before she lets out a yawn. She straightens up and rubs at her eyes, and James watches her with some amusement. Of course she had been about to fall asleep. She parties harder than anyone else.

Regulus just shrugs as a response, never looking away from James.

“What is it?” James questions in a sigh, all his walls coming up again the moment his focus returns to Regulus. “And can’t it wait? We were having a nice time, and Emma was about to take a nap—”

“Jem!” she hisses, swatting softly at his chest and dragging a snort out of him. “That’s not true!”

“You were half asleep—”

“I was relaxed. There’s a difference. And it’s way too late for a nap, anyway—”

“What? It’s never too late for a nap—”

“Pandora’s here,” Regulus cuts in sharply. “We’re all waiting for you, so if you could stop wasting my time and leave the flirting for later, that’d be great.”

“We’re not—” James begins to protest with a frown.

“Just go with him, Jem,” Emma interrupts him gently, squeezing his bicep before moving away from him. “You can tell me all about it later, yeah?”

James sighs, pushing his glasses up before he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, okay.” When he stands up, wary eyes settling on Regulus, he isn’t surprised to find his face carefully blank. It still fills him with dread. “Lead the way, Black.”

Regulus’ lips curl in a sneer, and then he’s turning around without another word, already making his way back to the house. He doesn’t bother to check if James is following, which rubs him off the wrong way for some reason. But he stills goes after him, eyes fixated on the back of his hair and how Regulus’ black curls bounce with every step.

When they both slip inside, he finds the guys sitting on the couch, pressed close enough together that there’s space on the cushions for all of them. Pandora is in the armchair closest to it, entwined hands resting placidly on her lap. She turns her head when she hears them arrive, and she offers them both a smile that James doesn’t quite manage to reciprocate.

“Hello, James,” Pandora greets him, and he nods in acknowledgement but doesn’t respond. Regulus sits down right next to Kingsley, and James slides on the other side him after a moment of hesitation. It’s the only available space on the sofa, after all. “Now that we’re all here, I can finally ask. How’s everyone been doing?”

James doubts her visit is simply due to a little check-up, and he isn’t the only one. They all exchange a worried glance before they go back to staring at Pandora, who’s waiting patiently with one of her polite grins stitched to her face. It’s not like they have another option but to play along, anyway.

“Not great,” Frank admits, always ready to take the lead. James really admires that side of him. “The last Bonfire hit us all very hard.”

Pandora’s face becomes grave while she hums in understanding. “Why’s that?”

“Well, I think it’s because our girlfriends seem to be making more progress with their tempters each day, and we can’t help but be terrified of them falling for someone else.”

“Isn’t that the same thing you’ve all been doing, though? Making progress and getting to know the girls better?”

Frank squirms a little in his place, unable to hide the grimace that takes over his face, and James wishes he was sitting a bit closer so he could reach out.

It’s not like Pandora is exactly wrong, and he himself has felt more than a bit conflicted about his friends’ behaviours when it comes to their interactions with the tempters. But James still feels the need to defend Frank, to defend them all, because he cares about them, and he allowed himself to accept their friendship, and he refuses to believe that they’re bad. That all of it has been a lie and he’s been a fool for believing in them. For daring to hope in a show like this.

“I guess,” Frank concedes, voice going quieter. “But it’s—it’s different for us, Pandora. And believe me, I’m aware of how that sounds, but I truly mean it when I say that we’re not—we’re always thinking about our girlfriends.”

“Really?” Pandora inquires, and James thinks she isn’t trying to sound sceptical, but it still comes out that way.”

“Yeah, like—even when I’m hanging out with Em, or dancing with her, or even, like, cuddling a little, my mind is always on Alice. Thinking about what she might be doing, and how I’d rather be with her.”

One of Pandora’s hands comes up to clutch tenderly at her heart, her gaze turning warm as she regards Frank. “It’s clear you miss her,” she admits with a tilt of her head. “And I feel for you, all of you. I really do. But you have to understand why it can be a bit difficult to sympathise sometimes, when you’re getting upset over something you’re also doing.”

“We understand,” Kingsley says, and his tone is surprisingly serious. “But you have to see it our way. We know what we’re doing and what we’re feeling in the moment and the sort of boundaries we’re drawing. We think we’re being careful enough, and not crossing any lines, but sometimes it’s hard to tell. Shit gets blurry, you know?”

Pandora nods, encouraging him to continue, and James can feel a furrow settling between his eyebrows.

“And when it comes to them, it’s even more complicated. Because there’s only so little of them we can see, and it keeps getting worse each week,” Kingsley explains. “Between that, and the stress, and trying to have fun but still remaining respectful, well… Sometimes it becomes too much. It pushes you to do things you wouldn’t normally do.”

“Things like what?” Pandora asks him, no judgement in her voice.

Kingsley simply shrugs in answer. James feels an uncomfortable pull in his stomach. He gets Kingsley’s point, he really does, and they’ve discussed it before, how after the Bonfires, with all the emotions being so fresh, it’s easy to let yourself go. To rely on one of the girls and allow all that anger and confusion fester inside, until it takes over and you’re left wanting to push, hoping to hurt the other person like they’re hurting you.

“You know,” Kingsley says with a vague move of his wrist when Pandora doesn’t relent. “Things.”

“Are you trying to imply that someone here has already cheated?”

“Not at all!” Kingsley shakes his head furiously, and James isn’t surprised to notice all of them sitting a bit straighter than before. “Fortunately none of us have taken it that far. I’m just saying that most of us have probably thought about it. Maybe even considered it. And I don’t think that makes us bad people. We’re in a very specific situation, feelings get the best of you and—I don’t know.”

Pandora presses her lips in a thin line and gives a firm nod. She looks as understanding as she did a few months ago, in his and James’ screen, always managing to see everyone’s side, even when people are so clearly in the wrong. She’s always willing to listen, and James understands why she’s so popular. So loved.

It’s different being in the show, however. Especially when he’s witnessed all the manipulation, when he’s noticed the way Pandora subtly prods, always in search of that drama that’s made her program so famous in the first place.

James doesn’t want to believe she doesn’t care. But she definitely doesn’t care as much as she pretends to do. And that’s why James can’t bring himself to trust her, or her whole worried act.

“What about you, Regulus?” she questions all of a sudden, and James’s head whips around to look at the man beside him.

Regulus isn’t phased. “What about me?” he inquires back, tone bored.

“Have you considered it?” she presses, always patient, always kind. “Being unfaithful?”

For some reason, the question gets stuck in James’ throat, even though it isn’t addressed at him. He swallows thickly, but it hurts, it hurts, and James’ hands clench tightly on his lap, his gaze fixed on Regulus’ side profile.

The other man only hesitates for a couple of seconds, but it’s still enough to worsen the knot between James’ vocal chords.

“No,” Regulus answers easily. “I don’t blame the others for doing so, though. This place has a way of getting in your head.”

“You’re right,” Pandora concedes. “The show is designed to make you doubt, to make you insecure. To test your loyalty in extreme situations, and prove if your love is true. I suppose slipping up is only natural.”

Regulus nods once, the movement barely perceptible, and James assumes that’s the end of it, but he couldn’t be more wrong.

“However, I hear you’ve been keeping your distance,” Pandora continues, and Regulus arches an eyebrow at her.

“Isn’t that what we should all be doing?” he retorts in a drawl, Pandora’s grin growing minutely. “Keeping our distance?”

“Of course,” Pandora agrees immediately. “But I suppose I’m a bit… surprised. I’ve been doing this for a few years, and it’s not very common, seeing people who can keep their cool like you do.”

One of the corners of Regulus’ mouth curls up in half a smirk, and James shifts in his seat, wanting to look away from the other man but utterly unable to do so.

“What can I say?” Regulus shrugs with one shoulder. “It takes more than a couple of clips taken out of context to shake me or the trust I have in my relationship.”

“Yeah? And what about Marlene?”

“What about her?”

“You’re getting along nicely, but things are suspiciously platonic between you two.”

Regulus’ gaze seems to sharpen at that, his expression losing some of its amusement, and even though James doesn’t exactly understand what’s going on, or why Pandora is so set in targeting Regulus, his reaction is enough to make some alarms go off inside James’ head.

“So? I don’t understand what’s so suspicious about making a friend—”

“I’m just saying,” Pandora interrupts him. She barely has to raise her voice, and her tone remains calm, but it sends a chill down James’ spine regardless. “She’s a tempter and trying to seduce you. But none of it seems to work on you, and your friendship feels so very natural.”

Regulus grits his teeth, squinting his eyes at Pandora. “I really don’t understand what you’re trying to get at. Should I apologise for not being interested in anyone and respecting my partner, or—?”

“Oh, I never said you weren’t interested in anyone,” Pandora comments nonchalantly, her smile feeling oddly cutting. “I just feel like… you might be looking for love in a different place?”

It’s hard to tell, especially considering Regulus’ complexion, but James could swear Pandora’s words make him go a little pale.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Regulus states slowly, a strain in his voice.

“Maybe not,” Pandora responds with a tilt of her head. “But you will.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Regulus chuckles, but it sounds wrong. He runs a hand through his curls, messing them all up, and when James leans a bit closer to him, he isn’t surprised to see the rest of the men also staring at Regulus with concern all over their faces. “Huh? Are you threatening me? Because you don’t even know what you’re fucking talking about—”

“Oh, no, no, not at all, Regulus,” Pandora laughs sweetly, waving both hands in front of her. It’s such a charming gesture, and yet it only manages to make James feel sick to his stomach. “You misunderstand. I’m just curious about how your experience has been going. You’re the most quiet of the group, and you always seem so unaffected.”

“That’s because I am. And you cornering me like this, just to get a reaction out of me, is fucking vile. I’m sorry I’m not giving you dramatic enough content for your stupid show, but—”

“It’s not about that. I swear, Regulus. And I really never meant to make you so upset. I’m only doing my best to get to know you a bit better. Check on you, since it’s clear you have a hard time being as open as the others. I’m sorry if it came out wrong.”

James is absolutely flabbergasted at the way in which Pandora can switch up her whole act as if it’s nothing. In fact, he thinks he would’ve believed her, had the conversation involved someone other than Regulus. But James can’t get over how upset Regulus looks, hands trembling slightly and an anxious glint in his eyes.

It’s clear Pandora can play her role real fucking well. Of course everyone loves her, when she can fool both her audience and the participants of her show so easily. She says she cares, after all, so it doesn’t take much to forgive her, once she makes clear her intentions have always been good. She seems to sympathise with everyone, so why wouldn’t you sympathise with her, right? Pandora is simply doing her job, after all.

“Yeah, okay,” Regulus mumbles with a small shake of his head. “It’s fine. Sorry for what I said. I guess I overreacted—”

“No, don’t,” James says, shocking even himself. Regulus turns around sharply, both eyebrows raised as he watches James. “You shouldn’t have to apologise, Reg. You did nothing wrong.”

Regulus’ face does something odd. First it twists as if he’s in pain, just to go all soft a moment later, gaze turning almost sad as it meets James’ own.

“James,” Regulus begins in a whisper. He already knows what he’s going to say, and honestly, James doesn’t want to hear it.

“No,” he argues, albeit not unkindly, and Regulus exhales softly, but doesn’t try to fight him on this. James focuses on Pandora next, his expression hardening. “You can’t speak to him that way.”

“Oh?” she inquires, barely repressing her grin.

“I won’t allow it,” James states, raising his chin slightly. “It’s not fair. I’m aware that you’re doing what it’s asked of you, but you can’t—you shouldn’t pressure anyone like that. We’re all struggling in our own way, and it can be hard to talk about it. Regulus doesn’t owe anyone an explanation.”

“Not even his girlfriend?” Pandora drawls.

“That’s different.” James shakes his head. “He hasn’t cheated, or crossed any lines, so that isn’t—”

“And how do you know that?”

James blinks and does a double take, chancing a glance at Regulus, just to discover that the other man isn’t looking at him. Instead, he seems fascinated by his lap, his hands clutching his pants.

“We live together,” he murmurs, tone a bit hesitant. “Sure, all of us have grown closer to the girls but Regulus hasn’t—he and Marlene don’t even properly flirt.”

“I’m aware,” Pandora answers without missing a beat. Her eyes twinkle. “I wasn’t talking about Marlene. Not in a romantic sense, anyway.”

“Then what—?”

“James,” Regulus calls him again, his hand reaching out and resting on James’ knee. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He can’t help the way in which his eyebrows furrow. “But—”

“It’s not worth it,” Regulus sighs softly, one of his fingers moving lazily, caressing the skin of his leg. “Just let it go, yeah? For me?”

James wants to argue. He wants to protest and refuse and give Pandora a piece of his mind, until he’s completely sure that the woman won’t ever try that shit again. But Regulus is staring up at him with pleading eyes, and he’s touching him, bare skin against bare skin, and James can feel all the fight leaving him, resignation settling deep into his gut instead.

He lets out a deep, long-suffering sigh, but he puts his own hand over Regulus’, doing his best to fit his fingers between the gaps.

“Okay,” James concedes, his frown nearly disappearing when Regulus’ lips pull up in half a smile. “For you.”

Those last words drag a tiny noise out of the other man, and James is incapable of discerning if it’s the good or bad kind. But after that, Regulus takes a brief peek at Pandora, before pulling his hand away from James, the movement so quick it nearly gives him whiplash.

And just like that, the frown is back on his face.

James catches Frank’s eyes, watching him over Peter’s head, his forehead covered in wrinkles. He mouths something to him, and he has to repeat himself a couple of times before James finally manages to understand him. Are you okay? is what the older man asks him silently, and he nods after a beat, even though he isn’t certain himself he’s saying the truth.

“Well, that was certainly—” Pandora starts after clearing her throat.

“Why don’t you just tell us why you’re here,” Regulus exclaims in a rush, almost stuttering through the whole sentence.

Pandora narrows her eyes at him, offering a smile that it’s more of a baring of teeth than anything else. But, in the end, she doesn’t try to start another argument with Regulus, choosing to indulge him with a small nod of her head, her expression going back to looking placid, kind.

“Of course. We got a bit sidetracked for a moment there,” she says softly, and James sees one of Regulus’ eyes twitch. “I’m here to inform you about an… opportunity.”

This seems to pique everyone’s interest.

“What kind of opportunity?” Peter wonders, and he sounds a bit wary. Distrustful.

“A good one, if you use it wisely.” Pandora taps playfully at her temple. “You’ll be able to block one of your girlfriends’ tempters for 24 hours.”

Peter’s eyes widen at this, mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he ends up shutting it firmly. Frank and Kingsley share a look, their faces equally bewildered, and James is raising his hand before he can think better of it.

“I’m sorry, but what does ‘blocking’ mean, in this context?” he asks, lowering his arms after a second. “What does it entail?”

“It means he’ll be out of the house, banned from being in contact with any of your girlfriends,” Pandora explains calmly. “You can only choose one of them, so I’ll give you a couple of minutes to discuss it between yourselves, and then you’ll vote. Sounds good?”

James squirms in his seat, his mouth curling downwards. The movement seems to catch Regulus’ attention, who turns to look at him and offers him a sad smile. He can probably tell how uncomfortable James is with this whole thing.

It’s not like there’s anything he can do about it. He doubts that refusing to participate will do much, and besides, he doesn’t even know if he’s allowed. The contract he signed was so damn long he barely remembers half of it. Not to mention, Peter and the others seem more than a little intrigued about the idea, and James doesn’t want to be the one to ruin it, especially considering how upset they’ve all been lately.

“Sounds great,” Peter tells Pandora, who gives him a nod and a smile in return.

“I mean, I feel like the choice is obvious,” Frank says, lowering his voice slightly, even though Pandora can probably hear everything. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to block that Amos guy more than anything, but I feel like you need this more than anyone, Pete.”

Peter’s gaze is grateful when it settles on Frank, and he extends his arm just so he can squeeze Frank’s shoulder, the gesture tender and filled with appreciation.

Kingsley sighs, but he’s grinning. “Yeah, it’s the right thing to do,” he agrees with a quick nod. “Hopefully, Mary will get the hint and tone it down a little.”

“She could also take it the wrong way,” Regulus drawls, scratching the side of his nose distractedly. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Blocking a tempter has been known to backfire.”

A frown twists Peter’s features almost immediately, and Kingsley lets out a loud groan.

“Reg, can you not?” Kingsley begs him, interlacing both hands in front of his chest. Regulus simply scoffs. “For once? Can you let us have this?”

“I’m just saying—”

“I know, and I appreciate you looking out for us—”

“That is not what’s happening here—”

“—but there’s a risk no matter what we do,” Kingsley finishes, and it makes Regulus roll his eyes. He doesn’t look especially annoyed, though. “We’ll deal with any consequences it might bring, yeah?”

“And without complaining about them,” Peter adds, Kingsley nodding along even before he’s finished talking.

“As if you know how to do anything else,” Regulus huffs, but James catches the way his mouth twitches. “Fine. Your funeral.”

They both let out a whooping noise, Kingsley’s accompanied by a hissed ‘yes’, and it drags an amused snort from both James and Frank, who share a complicit glance and a shake of their heads.

“We’re voting for Fabian, then?” Frank asks.

“No, wait,” Regulus stops them, before he focuses on James. It makes him a bit giddy to watch how the other man’s expression shifts, becoming gentler, softer around the edges. “You okay with that, James?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You don’t have to agree simply because Peter is the obvious choice, or whatever—”

“Oi,” Peter complains, but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I’m sure you’d love to block Barty,” Regulus continues with a shrug, and well, he isn’t exactly wrong. “The point is, you’re allowed to disagree.”

“It doesn’t matter. Even if I did, Fabian is gonna be getting the majority of the votes—”

“It matters to me. My vote is yours, James, so stop deflecting and tell me what you want.”

The words get stuck on James’ throat. He doesn’t understand half of them; they’re all tangled, twisted, an amalgamation of confusing feelings and ambiguous ideas. They burn at the back of his mouth, and they taste bitter whenever James rolls them around in their tongue. Every time he tries to speak life into them, it feels like he’s about to puke his guts out. And Regulus being there, right in front of him, sitting so close he can feel his body heat and looking at him like that, is only making matters worse.

James doesn’t know what he wants. And the worst part is that he isn’t even trying to find out, afraid of what he might discover.

“We’ll vote for Fabian,” he tells Regulus, relieved when his voice doesn’t waver.

“You sure?” Regulus questions quietly.

James manages a tiny smile. “I’m sure. Barty might be insufferable, but I’m not actually worried about him. This is the right thing to do.”

Regulus watches him in silence for a few more seconds, but James’ smile remains, and in the end, the other man sighs and turns around until he’s once again looking forward. Kingsley has an eyebrow arched and is staring quite intensely at Regulus’ side profile, but he isn’t even being acknowledged.

“Time’s up,” Pandora comments softly. “Have you all decided?”

They all nod nearly at the same time.

“Perfect,” she says with a little clap. “We’ll start with you, Frank. Which tempter would you like to block, and why?”

“Fabian,” Frank responds firmly, before glancing at Peter and grinning widely at him. “Because Pete has been having a hard time, and if I can do anything to help, and hopefully get his girlfriend to open her eyes and realise that what she’s doing is hurting my mate, then I will.”

Peter laughs shyly, pushing Frank with his shoulder and dragging a chuckle out of him. James also thinks he hears a mumbled ‘thank you’ but it’s hard to tell from where he’s sitting.

“Lovely,” Pandora states, and she does seem to mean it. “Peter?”

“Also Fabian,” he responds, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding Pandora’s gaze. “I’m worried about how Mary might take it, but… since I can’t really speak to her, this is my only chance to try and make her understand that I need her to slow down. I just hope that she understands.”

“I’m sure he will, dude,” Kingsley exclaims, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into his side. “I also vote for Fabian. Because if anyone deserves to be able to enjoy this experience, then that’s Peter.”

Pandora nods, her smile close-lipped. “What about you, Regulus?”

“Fabian,” he murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t care that much, but I’ve been outnumbered, and considering what we’ve seen in the Bonfires so far, I guess it’s only fair.”

Kingsley elbows him playfully on the ribs, and Regulus doesn’t hesitate to retaliate, mouth curling in half a smirk when Kingsley grunts in pain.

“Well, there’s only you left, James.” Pandora watches him expectantly, and James’ hands twist around the hem of his shirt.

“Fabian,” he says, hoping no one else is noticing the slight tightness in his tone. “I’m not sure how I feel about this whole blocking thing, but it’s clear that Peter needs it, and I support him no matter what.”

“Look at that,” Pandora sighs, her dark eyes sliding through them all. “You’re such a lovely group. I’m very glad to see such a beautiful friendship blossoming.”

James looks at the others just to find them already staring, wide smiles on their faces as they move even closer to each other. Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, and even clicks his tongue when Kingsley intertwines his arm with his, but he allows it nonetheless. He stays still, his thigh pressed against James’.

“Fabian it is,” she says as she stands up from the loveseat. “It was a pleasure getting to chat with you all. Take care and I’ll see you this weekend for the Bonfire.”

They all bid her farewell, sounding surprisingly cheerful, especially after barely acting alive all morning. James is unsure of how to feel about the blocking thing being what’s managed to give them back some of their usual energy, but he supposes that it’s better than them being so upset.

Peter gets up as soon as Pandora is out the door, mumbling something about going to let the girls know they can come back, and Kingsley chooses to come with him, jumping to his feet before Peter has taken more than two steps.

“For someone who has been so sad about the possibility of his girlfriend cheating, he sure is excited about hanging out with Emmeline,” Regulus mutters.

Frank is currently on his way to the kitchen, so he fortunately doesn’t hear him, but James makes sure to give him a glare.

“Reg,” he says in warning, watching as the other man raises both hands in mock surrender, leaning against the back of the couch more comfortably now that it’s only them.

He doesn’t try to put any space between them, though.

“Okay, okay, I’ll play nice,” he huffs, leaning his head back until it rests against the sofa. “You have way too much faith in them.”

“They’re good people,” James answers simply, and despite everything, despite all his doubts and all the conflict, he genuinely believes that. “They haven’t been in their right minds lately, and with good reason, but they’d never cheat.”

Regulus stares at the ceiling for a handful of seconds, face unreadable, before he tilts his head enough for their gazes to meet.

“I really don’t think it’s so black and white,” Regulus confesses softly, his words barely a whisper.

James’ eyebrows furrow a little. “What do you mean?”

Regulus doesn’t reply immediately. He takes his time, letting his eyes roam all over James’ face, lingering on his nose, on his chin, on his lips.

James’ breath hitches against his will, and even though he doesn’t think Regulus has noticed, that’s the exact moment he chooses to avert his gaze, attention returning to the ceiling.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says with a slight shake of his head.

James can’t be completely certain, because Regulus doesn’t have a reason to, but it sounds like a lie.

***

“Look at that, Jem!” Emma yells as soon as she catches sight of James while he walks down the stairs. “I knew we were gonna both choose to be angels.”

She gives a little twirl when he finally reaches her, and it drags an endeared chuckle out of him. He offers her his arms once she’s done, and she beams at him before accepting it, resting her hand lightly on his forearm as James guides her towards the living room.

Emma does look gorgeous tonight, with a tiny, tight white dress, small wings attached to her back and a sparkly halo on top of her head. The glitter on her eyelids and cheeks makes her look like she’s glowing, and her hair falls over her shoulders in neat waves. Her lips are painted a pretty pink, and she’s almost up to James’ nose with the heels she’s wearing. They’re also very beautiful, matching her dress, but James can’t fathom how she can walk in them.

Nearly everyone is already there when they finally step inside the room, but James can tell that there’s a few girls missing with just a quick sweep of his eyes. The coffee table is already full of half-drank cocktails, and the music is loud enough to make the floor shake under their feet.

James doesn’t have trouble locating Kingsley, already on the dance floor, grinding a bit too suggestively with Amelia. They’re surrounded by a few more of the girls, Charity and Hestia, and Peter and Emmeline are standing close by, not fully dancing but swaying gently as they talk and sip on their drinks.

However, his eyes don’t linger there, instead searching for a certain boy with messy black curls.

He surveys the room a few times while Emma pulls him further into the room, but there doesn’t seem to be a trace of Regulus anywhere. James can’t help but feel a bit disappointed, hoping that he’s simply late or maybe outside, and that he hasn’t chosen to skip the party. Not like James would blame him, he understands it can be hard for him, but still. It’s not as fun if Regulus isn’t there, sneering at all the dancing and shooting snarky comment after snarky comment.

Emma drags him straight to the kitchen, excited to try tonight’s cocktails. James isn’t sure if he feels like drinking; he’s been extra careful since that one night last week, when he got so plastered he barely remembered anything the next day. James is lucky enough to never get hangovers, but he still doesn’t like forgetting so easily, when events go all blurry and fuzzy in his mind.

It makes him anxious. Emma has assured him that he didn’t do anything weird, and that he was just more affectionate, but then again, she hadn’t been with him all night.

James has thought of asking Regulus, because he does recall speaking to him. But he’s scared of finding out what he might have said, or done. He adores Regulus, so he doubts he had acted badly, but he’s terrified he might have made him uncomfortable in any way. He feels like Regulus would’ve mentioned already if he had gone too far, but who knows, really.

He just hopes it’s not the reason why the other man has been so moody with him lately.

“I think I’m feeling like a daiquiri tonight,” Emma says, grabbing a drink with a yellow-ish colour. “What about you?”

James shrugs, eyeing the array of glasses with mild interest. “I don’t know. I’m not looking to drink too much.”

“That’s fair,” Emma concedes with a tilt of her head. “But you can have one, at least.”

“I guess…”

“A mojito sound good?”

James hesitates, but ends up giving her a little nod. It’s worth it if only to see her smile. She’s been there for James ever since the show started, ready to comfort him when he needed it but also willing to step back if he wanted some space. He can make a bit of an effort too, to keep her happy.

There are a few different kinds of mojitos spread across the table. She chooses a pink one for him, and when James takes a small sip, he discovers it tastes like peach and raspberry.

“Good?” Emma asks him while they make their way back to the living room, her hand finding James’ arm once again.

“Really good,” James tells her sincerely, and she laughs happily, pressing closer to him. “A bit on the sweeter side, though.”

“It’s a cocktail, Jem,” she sighs with a roll of her eyes. “They have more sugar than alcohol.”

He chuckles, but doesn’t argue, because she isn’t exactly wrong.

“You should recommend the one you’re having to Reg, though,” Emma adds, as an afterthought. “He and that sweet tooth of his will love it.”

James’ smile dims down a little, but it doesn’t disappear, not completely. He looks down and the pink liquid in his glass, fingers clenching around it before they relax.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, greeting Frank with a nod of his head as they pass him on their way to one of the loveseats. He’s standing a bit to the side, not drinking, and chatting quietly with Lucinda. They’re a bit too close, and James forces his face to remain neutral. “I don’t know if he’ll be joining us tonight, though.”

“Oh, don’t worry, he came.” Emma waits until James has sat down, and then she drops herself right next to him, not a single sliver of space between their bodies. “He was the first one to get dressed and everything. When I got here, it was just him, Lu and Frank. He did tell me he was thinking of having an early night today, though, so maybe he already left.”

“Maybe,” James murmurs, and it does sound quite likely, because it’s past midnight, and Regulus not being anywhere to be seen isn’t a good sign. But god, James really hopes it’s not true. He’d like to see Regulus, even if just for a few minutes before he goes up to his room.

“But then again, I haven’t seen Marls in, like, half an hour, so they might be together,” Emma comments nonchalantly, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes.

James finds himself frowning. “What do you mean?”

“You know.” Emma makes a wide gesture with her free hand, and then she takes a long sip of her drink. “They usually hang out together during parties. They hang out together in general. I really think there’s something going on there, but every time I ask Marls, she insists that they’re just friends—”

“They are,” James cuts her off, a bit more sharply than intended. Her eyes widen slightly, and she blinks at him. “Friends, I mean. Marlene doesn’t seem very interested in any of us, and Reg… he just wouldn’t. He adores Dorcas.”

“I don’t know. I don’t doubt he cares for her, but sometimes I get this vibe from him.”

“What? What vibe?”

“It’s hard to explain.” She shifts, being careful to not spill a single drop of her cocktail. “Like, with you, for example. It’s so obvious you’re in love with Lily. You’re completely devoted to her.”

James squirms, forcing his mouth to curve up into a kind smile, even though his lips are itching with the need to curl downwards. He can barely hold Emma’s gaze as he nods, urging her to continue.

“But with Regulus it feels a little different,” Emma goes, tucking her long hair behind her ear. “Me and the girls talk about you all and your partners constantly. I’m aware that we’re just seen as tempters who are here to seduce you, which is fair, because it’s our job, but… some of us do fall a little, you know? And it’s hard, liking someone who’s already taken and in love with someone else.”

“Emma,” James mumbles, grabbing her free hand almost instinctively, squeezing it tenderly.

“It’s fine,” she rushes to tell him with a little laugh. “We all knew what we were getting ourselves into. My point is that, at the beginning, we all agreed that you and Regulus were gonna be nearly impossible to tempt.”

“Very brave of you to still try,” James teases her, expecting the punch on the shoulder he receives. He makes sure to let out a groan, even though his laughter probably gives him away.

“Prick,” Emma huffs, but she’s smiling from ear to ear. “I said nearly. You can never be sure with men. No offence.”

“None taken.”

“But as the days passed and we got to know each other properly, we all began to realise that Regulus was simply not interested in any of us. I thought he was into Marlene, at least to a degree, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Well, okay, but I’m also not interested in any of you—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Emma sighs, her grin losing some of its brightness. “I meant it as in, he doesn’t seem attracted to any of us. Like, at all. Which is a bit… odd, I suppose.”

“Really? But he and Marls flirt all the time—”

“I know! That’s the part that confuses me! It could just be super platonic, but Reg is also very reserved, and closed-off, and yet he clearly enjoys Marls’ company.”

“He enjoys my company too,” James blurts out, heat climbing up his neck when Emma looks at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“You’re mates, Jem, that doesn’t count,” she says with a snort, but there’s some uncertainty in her tone. “I think Marls has a thing for him, but I’m not sure it’s reciprocated. Sometimes I feel like Reg might also feel something, but other times I’m like, ‘nah, there’s no way’.”

James takes a gulp of his mojito, but his stomach turns painfully right after, so he ends up leaning forward to put his still half-full glass on top of the coffee table. There’s barely any space, but he manages to make it work, keeping his drink as far as possible from the other two mojitos he can see there so he doesn’t get confused.

When he leans back once again, his mic digs painfully into the small of his back, and he has to reach out behind him, moving it slightly so it stops bothering him.

Most of the time, James forgets about it. About the cameras and the fact that they’re being watched constantly. But remembering is inevitable, with the alarm going off at least a couple of times a day, and with Pandora’s visits, and with the threat of the Bonfires constantly looming over them. It’s usually fine. He’s had enough time to get used to it, and even though he does his best to ignore as much as he can, he’s become resigned to his current reality.

But now, somehow, the reminder only serves to make James feel even more sick.

“Whoa, Emma, I didn’t know you were this nosy,” James says after clearing his throat slightly, hoping his words come off as teasing.

She scoffs. “I’m not. But Marls is my friend, so of course I care about her, and her love life.”

“Lack of, more like.”

“Piss off. We’re all doing our best here, okay?”

“I know,” he murmurs softly, giving another squeeze to her hand before finally pulling away. Emma looks two seconds away from pouting, and James thinks it’s hilarious. “I was just teasing.”

“Yeah, you always are,” she protests, but it lacks any heat. “You were the one who asked in the first place, anyway. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re obsessed with Regulus.”

James laughs a bit too loudly, and can feel a couple of glances send his way, probably startled and definitely curious.

“It’s true!” Emma insists, joining in the laughter as she stares up at him. “Whenever we’re not together, you’re with him. You’re always wondering about where he is, and you talk about him more than you talk about Lily.”

“Oh, c’mon, that’s going a bit too far—”

“I’m not joking, Jem. I don’t think you realise how often you bring him up.” Emma’s still smiling, still playing, but her eyes seem to be searching for something in James’ face. “Like, even tonight, we had just sat down and you were already asking about him.”

“You brought him up first,” he points out, a defensive edge in his voice.

“Sure, but you jumped at the opportunity to talk about him. It was a meaningless comment, but you kept the conversation going.”

“We weren’t only discussing him. This was also about Marlene, and their friendship—”

“Jem,” she stops him, putting a hand where the collar of his tank top meets his skin. “I’m not trying to start an argument. This wasn’t a criticism. I find your bond with Regulus really sweet, especially considering he has a hard time opening up to others.”

“Oh,” James mutters eloquently, his shoulders sagging. He hadn’t noticed, but his whole body had been taut like a string, tension gathering in all of his limbs.

“You know I love it when you rant to me about everything. Doesn’t matter if it’s Regulus, or your job, or even football.”

“You hate football, though.”

“But I don’t hate you. Quite the opposite, really. And I’m always more than happy to listen to everything you have to say.”

Emma is being genuine, and James appreciates her more than words could explain, but he’s also too aware of the connotation. Of the way she’s watching him, and how close they’re sitting. Of the real feeling behind everything she’s saying.

James thinks this might be the worst part of this show. Growing to truly care about someone, but still being forced to break their hearts. Still being forced to keep a certain distance, and shut them out.

Nearly all of their conversations leave a bittersweet taste in James’ mouth.

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it, even if the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Anytime,” Emma replies softly, tilting her head until it rests on James’ shoulder for a handful of seconds, before she pulls away, straightening up a little. “Okay, enough about that. You wanna dance?”

James hums. “Maybe later.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Emma states, pointing a finger at James’ face as she gets up. He raises both hands with a chuckle, and she seems satisfied enough with that. With one last look at him, Emma rushes to join Kingsley and the rest of her friends, who cheer loudly when she reaches them, gushing about her outfit and twirling her around.

James watches for a bit, grin permanently stitched on his lips while he sees Emma laughing with Hestia at Chastity’s antics. Her arrival has also managed to interrupt Kingsley and Amelia a little, who have decided to join them instead of resuming their grinding.

He knows it’s none of his business, and he trusts Kingsley, he really does, but James would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved.

It gets a little boring after a while, though, especially because James isn’t planning to join them any time soon. In fact, and if Emma ends up sufficiently distracted, he doesn’t plan to join them at all.

So, James tilts forward and reaches for his mojito once again, stirring it lazily with the straw before he takes a tiny sip. It’s still way too sweet for his tastes, but it’s good, and considering he isn’t gonna be drinking anything else after this, he might as well finish it.

This gives him some time, too. Time for Emma to continue drinking and having fun with the others and hopefully forget James is there. He feels a bit bad about it, but he’s not in the mood for dancing or entertaining her. Not when he knows she gets extra flirty during parties, becoming more bold and encouraging him to join the games with her.

James can deal with that just fine. He’s been doing it for weeks now, and he’s fond enough of Emma to be willing to put up with it, and not holding it against her. But he’s surprisingly exhausted in the mental sense, and his anxiety has been getting the best of him lately. He might’ve considered staying for a bit longer if Regulus were around, because he always makes it all worth it, and James feels a lot more relaxed when he’s by his side. And it also helps that there’s someone else refusing to participate or indulge in what the show wants them to do.

But he’s nowhere to be seen, and James is beginning to think that Emma had been probably right about Regulus leaving. This particular party theme also seems like it’d annoy him even more than usual, because it’s ridiculously cliché, and Regulus—

“Oh, hey, Potter,” Marlene greets him, and when he raises his head, he finds the blonde closing the sliding door that gives way to the pool right behind her.

James’ attention doesn’t stay on her for long, though. Not when he notices who’s standing right next to her, watching almost like he’s a deer in the headlights.

Speak of the devil.

“Hi, Marls,” he murmurs, but his eyes don’t move away from Regulus. “And hello to you too, Reg.”

Regulus gives him a little nod, and there’s a soft pink covering his cheeks. James isn’t sure if it’s due to being outside or the alcohol. “Hello,” he mumbles, shifting his weight from one to the other.

James doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t Regulus picking to dress up as a devil. He’s wearing a dark red short-sleeved shirt, the first couple of buttons unbuttoned, and a pair of black slacks James is convinced he’s seen on him before. To complete the outfit, he has a headband with two red horns on top of his tousled curls. All in all, very low-effort, but Regulus still manages to pull it off, because of course he does. And besides, it’s more than enough that he still dressed up at all.

It’s funny, really, because despite Regulus’ whole outfit being so demon-like, James can’t help but think he looks like a literal angel.

“Interesting choice, Potter,” Marlene comments, her gaze turning amused as it slides over his body.

James snorts and glances down at his own clothes for a moment, before focusing on her again. “What do you mean? I feel like it’s very fitting.”

Marlene lets out a huff, the noise resembling a chuckle, and then she shakes her head gently. “An angel? Please. I got you all figured out. You’re a fucking menace.”

“Excuse me?” James exclaims in a feigned gasp, hand coming up to clutch all dramatically at his chest. “I’m a sweetheart.”

“You act like one, it’s true. But are you really one?”

James rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth keep twitching upwards. His lips curve into a full on grin when he realises Regulus is watching them with a tiny smile of his own.

“Anyways, I’m gonna go get another drink,” Marlene informs them, already making her way towards the kitchen. “You want anything, Reg?”

Regulus shrugs. “Sure.”

“Something specific?”

“Surprise me.”

“The pink mojitos,” James says all of a sudden, raising his tone slightly and catching their attention. Marlene even stops, tilting her head back, an eyebrow arched. “They’re, um, quite sweet, so I feel like you’d enjoy them, Reg.”

Regulus’ eyes widen slightly, before they soften, crinkling at the corners with the force of his smile. He nods after a beat, slowly but surely starting to step closer and closer to James.

Marlene squints her eyes at them, but she’s turning around a second later, so James isn’t sure of what kind of expression she’s wearing.

“Okay,” she drawls, nearly at the door. “What about you, Potter? Can I get you anything?”

“Nah,” James sighs, spreading his legs unconsciously when Regulus reaches him, the invitation clear in the movement. “I’m all set.”

If Marlene adds something else, James doesn’t hear it, too distracted by the way in which Regulus’ gaze falls onto his lap, eyes darkening slightly as he appears to consider his options.

When the other man hesitates for a second too long, James pats the spot between his legs, both eyebrows raised teasingly. But Regulus doesn’t laugh, or scoff, or roll his eyes. Instead, he swallows thickly, attention lingering where James just put his hand, before his head snaps back up and their gazes meet.

Regulus stares in silence, and James squirms under the scrutiny. He’s about to speak, tell the other man that he’s just playing and he didn’t mean anything by it, when Regulus exhales quietly and gives a barely perceptible nod. James doesn’t even get the chance to ask, because a second later Regulus is moving, turning around and sitting right between James’ thighs, shifting until he can stretch his legs comfortably on the loveseat and rest his back against James’ chest.

He stiffens as a reflex, which makes Regulus go tense, too, even though he doesn’t make an attempt to get up, or pull away from him.

Regulus tilts his head slightly, until James can see his side profile easily. To no one’s surprise, his expression isn’t giving anything away.

“Is this okay?” Regulus questions in a murmur, sounding unexpectedly shy. “You offered, so I just—”

“It’s okay,” James rushes to reply as he forces his whole body to relax. It’s not that he isn’t happy about this development; he is, and incredibly so. Regulus isn’t a very affectionate person, or at least, not when there isn’t a high level of trust. James treasures every touch and every sort of contact he’s received from him, and this isn’t any different. He’s just so shocked he thinks his heart stopped for a moment there. “More than okay.”

Just like that, all the rigidity abandons Regulus’ body, as if it had never been there in the first place. He goes back to looking forward, but this time he leans back enough to rest his head in the crook of James’ neck, his curls tickling his skin a little in the process. James’ jaw hurts from how much he’s smiling.

James reaches for his cocktail, laughing silently when Regulus makes a noise of protest at the sudden jostling. He returns to his original position as quickly as possible, wrapping his arm around Regulus’ waist loosely, always giving him the option to get up and leave, if it starts feeling overwhelming at any point.

He hopes Regulus stays, though. James can’t remember the last time he was so at peace.

“Comfy?” James asks softly, bordering on a whisper.

Regulus hums, nuzzling a little into his chest, and James’ heart fucking swells. “Very much so. Needed this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Regulus yawns a little, and then he reaches for the hand James has resting against his stomach. He thinks he’s gonna interlace their fingers, but Regulus settles with playing with James’ absentmindedly. It’s surprisingly relaxing. “I almost thought you weren’t gonna show up.”

“You’re the one who hates parties, not me.”

“I don’t hate them,” Regulus grumbles, and James has no business finding it so endearing. “But you have a tendency to arrive quite late—”

“What even constitutes as ‘late’?” James inquires with half a grin. “We all live in the same house—”

“Shut up, you know what I fucking mean,” Regulus huffs out. It’s difficult to take him seriously when he’s all cuddled up, and caressing the back of James’ hand with such tenderness, but he’ll try his best. Just because it’s Regulus. “Me and Marls were talking about leaving before they get started on the games, and I thought—I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see you.”

“Aw, Reg,” James coos playfully, moving his head until he’s speaking close to his ear. “Did you miss me?”

Regulus scoffs loudly, but he seems to burrow even closer to James in the process. “Maybe. But just a little. I don’t want you to get a big head, especially when it’s already fucking massive.”

“Holy shit. I can’t believe you just admitted that without putting up a fight.” James shakes his head, so stupidly pleased, and holds the other man tighter. “How drunk are you?”

“Oh, fuck off. I’ve only had a couple of cocktails. Marlene is bringing me the third and last of the night.”

“I think you should reconsider it, Reg. You’re clearly way past tipsy if you’re—”

“You have no right to give me any lectures about safe drinking when you literally got plastered a week ago.”

“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad,” James protests half-heartedly.

Regulus tilts his head back and gives him his most deadpan stare. “Emma told me you barely remembered anything the next day.”

“Since when do you and Emma talk this much?” James groans, but he can’t completely suppress the smile that’s taken over his face.

“Why? Are you jealous?” Regulus reaches up and pokes him teasingly on one cheek, dragging a surprised laugh out of James.

“Why should I be?”

“I don’t know. You seem to like her soooo much.”

“I mean, yeah, sure. She’s become a dear friend of mine. But you must know that I like you more.”

Regulus’ eyes seem to shine under the soft lighting of the living room, and his mouth parts slightly, as if in awe. He holds James’ gaze briefly, but as soon as his face starts turning red, he turns around, going back to his original position.

It’s fine. James only needs to lean a little forward to be able to see that delightful blush.

“Shut up,” Regulus mumbles, resuming his caresses on James’ hand. This time, however, his movements are a bit more aggressive. “You don’t mean that.”

James squeezes him gently and buries his nose in the other man’s curls, that lovely citrusy scent filling up his senses. He’s sure Regulus can feel his idiotic smile pressed against his head.

“I don’t care if you believe me or not,” he sighs, maybe a bit too happily. “I’ll just make sure to show you.”

“Show me what?” Regulus asks, and he sounds like he’s pouting, but he leans into James’ touch, a quiet hum escaping his lips.

“How much I like you.”

Regulus squirms in his place, but it’s only so he can look at James once again, so he moves back slightly, trying to make all the manoeuvring easier for the other man.

It takes longer than it should, because the loveseat isn’t that spacious, and they’re both quite tall. The fact that Regulus’ had a few drinks definitely isn’t helping his coordination, either. But when his body is sufficiently twisted and he’s resting on his side so he can face James as comfortably as possible, they both realise at the same time how close their faces are.

James’ heart skips a beat, and Regulus’ breath hitches when their noses graze each other. They stop their shifting almost at the same time, James not daring to move a single muscle. He doesn’t even know for sure if he’s still breathing.

“Hi,” James eloquently says.

“Hi,” Regulus mutters back, eyes going a little half-lidded. “I forgot what I was gonna say.”

James chuckles, but it comes out a little too breathy. His own head seems to be currently empty, too, so it’s not like he has any right to judge, or even make fun of the other man.

“That’s fine,” he reassures Regulus. His hand, which had been resting on his stomach, is now pressed against his lower back. He begins to caress up and down slowly, without a second thought, and it’s worth it just because of the way Regulus shivers. “We don’t have to talk.”

“What should we do then?” Regulus wonders under his breath. James isn’t sure if it was meant for his ears or not, but he hears it anyway.

“I don’t know.” James shrugs with one shoulder. “What do you wanna do?”

Regulus rolls his lower lip between his teeth, and James is helpless to the way in which his gaze is immediately drawn to it, lingering on his mouth until his brain urges him to focus on the other man’s gaze.

“That’s a dangerous question,” Regulus exhales, and it’s practically impossible to tell, but James could swear that Regulus’ face has inched closer.

“How so?” James asks very quietly. He’s whispering, and he doesn’t know why, he only knows it feels right.

Regulus hums distractedly, staring unabashedly at James’ mouth, making him swallow thickly. “I don’t know if I can answer that.”

“Why not?”

“Dangerous,” Regulus repeats, glancing at James from under his lashes briefly before he zeroes on his lips once more.

“You already said that.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“Reg, I can’t understand if you don’t explain.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to understand. Maybe it’s better like this.”

James sighs heavily. The only reason why he doesn’t pinch the bridge of his nose is that his hands are otherwise occupied, one still holding onto his drink, while the other slides up and down Regulus’ back gently.

“I’m not gonna press. That’s not the kind of person I am,” James tells him tenderly, pretending he doesn’t notice how Regulus keeps watching his mouth move, seemingly entranced.

“I know,” the other man mumbles.

“But you can do anything you want when you’re with me, Reg.” James has no idea of how much of this is getting through to Regulus; he isn’t properly drunk, but he’s tipsy enough to not process what’s going on around him as well as he should. He just hopes that this is something Regulus will remember when sober. “You don’t have to watch what you say, or how you act.”

Regulus finally looks away from his lips and meets his gaze, eyebrows going up as he blinks at James a couple of times.

“We fight all the time,” Regulus retorts, like that’s all the argument he needs. “And you told me you and Lily barely fight.”

A furrow appears between James’ brows. “I don’t see what that has to do with us.”

“Us,” Regulus repeats, rolling the word around, checking how it tastes in his tongue. James cocks his head to the right, and leans forward slightly, until their noses touch. “I like that.”

“What? The word?” James inquires with a teasing grin.

“What it implies,” Regulus corrects him softly. “The fact that you speak as if there’s an actual ‘us’.”

James attempts to open his mouth, attempts to say something funny back, to remind Regulus that he’s drunk and not making any sense and that he should just let James do the talking while they cuddle. Except he can’t, because he fears that if he allows his lips to part, his whole heart will tumble out, tender and bleeding.

“Regulus—” he starts, nearly choking on the name.

“Reg!” someone yells, and it takes James a few seconds to realise it’s Marlene. He jumps a little, but his hold on the other man never falters, making sure he stays exactly where he is despite the sudden movement. “I got your drink! Sorry for the wait, I bumped into Amelia in the kitchen and—oh, am I interrupting something?”

Regulus’ fingers twitch where they’re clutching on James’ tank top, blinking furiously. But then he huffs quietly before leaning away, putting some distance between him and James as he shifts, his back going back to resting against James’ chest once more.

They’re still close, they’re still touching, they’re still cuddling. And yet, James can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

“You’re such a pain,” Regulus grumbles. James doesn’t need to see his face to know for a fact he’s pouting. “Just gimme my goddamn mojito.”

“Okay, your highness,” Marlene says with a roll of her eyes, offering him the glass. Regulus grabs him greedily, and takes a long sip, sighing contentedly.

“Oh, this is nice,” he murmurs, grabbing James’ hand and giving it a squeeze. “You were right, James. I really like it.”

“I’m glad,” James tells him, smiling. “But maybe you should slow down a little.”

“Don’t be boring. It’s my last drink of the night, let me enjoy it.”

James huffs obnoxiously, but the sound is amused, and Regulus must notice, because when he tilts forward to take a peek, he discovers the other man grinning against the rim of his glass.

“You’re both so adorable it’s giving me a toothache,” Marlene scoffs, staring down at them with both hands on her hips. “I don’t even know why the tempters keep trying. It’s so obvious you two are more interested in each other than anyone else.”

James snorts, the mischievous glint in Marlene’s eyes indicating she’s just teasing, probably in an attempt to get a rise out of them. And, well, it’s not like she’s exactly wrong, anyway. It might not be in a romantic context, but it’s no secret that James and Regulus are quite fond of each other. James might go as far as saying that he’s his favourite person in the house, and he likes to think that it’s the same for Regulus.

The other man shakes his head a couple of times, mumbling something under his breath that James doesn’t manage to catch. He doesn’t seem genuinely irritated, just a little flustered, and James finds it adorable.

“You make such a lovely couple,” Marlene coos, and Regulus gives her the finger without even bothering to look in her direction. He even turns the other way slightly, burrowing into James’ warmth, wrapping his arms around his middle.

James hugs him back without a second thought, and noses at Regulus’ curls, getting the weird itch to kiss his hair. He feels like that might be pushing it a little, though, even if he doubts that Regulus would mind that much in this state. James isn’t even sure he’d notice.

He hears Marlene gag dramatically, and he has to hide his smile in Regulus’ black locks. As the other man holds him a little bit tighter, his face finding refuge in his collarbones, James’ hands seem to have a mind of their own. His fingers dip curiously under Regulus’ waistband, pulling gently at his shirt until they untuck part of it. They don’t stop until they touch skin, cold and smooth to the touch.

Regulus’ gasps quietly against him, and James is about to put his hands away, when Regulus melts. He even lets out this little pleased noise while he tries to press even closer to James, even though it’s physically impossible when he’s already on top of him, and nearly all of their limbs are intertwined in some way.

Something sparks in the low of James’ belly. Something he’s quite familiar with, but that still leaves him a little dumbfounded, because it has no business making an appearance when he’s with Regulus. When they’re all tangled like this. The other man isn’t supposed to get this kind of reaction out of—

“Holy shit,” someone exclaims, loud enough to be heard over the music. James knows it’s one of the girls, but he doesn’t realise it’s Lucinda until he tilts his head and sees her standing a few metres from them, hands covering her mouth.

James is about to ask when he sees it.

He tenses up almost immediately, even before his brain has fully processed it, and the stiffness of his limbs must alert Regulus, because he raises his head, pressing both hands on James’ chest to push up and turn around. He follows James’ line of sight, and makes a tiny strangled sound when he finally realises what nearly everyone seems to be staring at.

Peter and Emmeline are making out on the makeshift dance floor, unaware of their surroundings as they hold onto each other. James hadn’t been happy about how close they had been to each other, how clingy they had been acting all night, but if he’s being honest, he had been a lot more concerned about Kingsley and his suggestive dancing.

Turns out, he had been worried about the wrong person.

They’re really going at it, hands beginning to wander and bodies pressed so close together there isn’t a sliver of space between them. James feels sick to his fucking stomach, but he can’t avert his gaze, no matter how much he wants to. Maybe because he’s sort of hoping that by the next time he blinks, it’ll be over. He’ll find out that he had simply imagined it, because Peter would never cheat on Mary, would never even think about it, not seriously, and Emmeline would never push him, or take advantage of the fact that he’s drank a little to much tonight, or—

“James,” Regulus says softly. James can feel his eyes on him, and he envies how easily he manages to take his eyes away from that bloody trainwreck. “James, stop that, look at me.”

He wants to. God, James really wants to. But he can’t. He can only continue watching, the whispering and the giggling and the unsubtle catcalls filling his ears until they all blend together and turn into a deafening ringing.

“James,” Regulus tries again, softer, and this time, his voice reaches him a bit less muffled. “C’mon, you need to breathe.”

He wasn’t aware that he hadn’t been. But when James inhales sharply, it seems to relieve an ache in his chest that he hadn’t noticed had been there in the first place.

James sees Emmeline smile against Peter’s lips, pulling away briefly to let out a little giggle before she dives in once again. He’s expecting him to put a stop to it right there, the moment of respite serving to open his eyes, make him realise his mistake. But Peter reciprocates once more, fingers tangling in Emmeline’s long hair, and James seriously thinks he’s about to throw up.

All of a sudden, there’s something cold covering his cheeks, and he blinks a couple of times, finally turning his head away to discover Regulus glaring at him, his hands cradling James’ face.

“James, baby, that’s enough,” he hisses, doing his best to sound authoritative. He’s still adorably flushed because of the alcohol, though, his frown is more concerned than angry.

However, that isn’t what finally catches his attention.

“You called me that,” James murmurs, a blurry memory echoing inside his head, confusing and vague, but still tangible enough to take root. “Last week. That night I got drunk,” he adds, when Regulus stares at him, uncomprehending.

Regulus clicks his tongue, the blush on his cheeks worsening as he momentarily glances away. “Did I?”

“Yes,” James answers without missing a beat, more sure by the second. “It was all fuzzy but… I think I remember now.”

“Whatever,” Regulus huffs. “It’s just a stupid pet name.”

“I like it,” James tells him, even though that doesn’t even cover half of it.

“Of course you fucking do.” Regulus exhales loudly through his nose with a shake of his head. “I didn’t—it wasn’t on purpose. The first time.”

“But this time it was?”

“I mean… Kinda? It worked last time, so.”

“Say it again.”

“What? No.”

“Regulus,” James whines, wishing he was standing just so he could stomp his foot.

“No,” Regulus repeats, with feeling, and James squints his eyes at him, pouting like a child.

“Please?” he tries one more time, batting his lashes a couple of times.

Regulus holds his gaze in silence for a few seconds, and it seems he won’t break, no matter what James pulls, but in the end, he sighs long and heavy, dropping his head until his forehead rests on James’ chest. When he raises it again, his whole face is a bright shade of red.

“Baby,” Regulus mumbles, quiet and embarrassed, a word meant for James and James only.

There’s a tug in James’ gut. A desperate, insistent, needy tug. It urges him to inch even closer to Regulus, to touch him more, to go further, but James doesn’t know how he could even do that. Their bodies are already basically fused together, breaths intermingling. James doesn’t understand what else is there to do, what other step he can take.

“Yeah?” he breathes out as a reply.

Regulus rolls his eyes, but James could swear he’s suppressing a smile. “We should get out of here.”

And just like that, it all comes back to James in a rush, threatening to drown him. His gaze searches for the source of his initial turmoil, finding it exactly where he left it: in the middle of the living room. Most people are slowly but surely shifting their focus, acting like what just happened, what is still happening, is normal and okay and not worth the attention. Some of the girls are whispering between themselves, giggling into their palms and stealing curious glances.

No one seems affected. No one seems to care. James doesn’t understand how everyone can be so chill about the whole thing, when he feels nothing short of betrayed.

His eyes meet Emma’s, who’s close to Peter and Emmeline, swaying along to the music sort of absentmindedly as she listens to whatever it is that Charity is talking about. There’s a crease on her forehead as she stares at him, a question shining in her eyes.

She seems a bit upset. Her gaze keeps sliding to where Regulus is lying on top of James, the furrow between her eyebrows worsening by the second, but before James can find a way to let her know he’s fine, or gesture her to come closer, Regulus grabs him by the chin, reclaiming his attention once again.

“Let’s go,” he tells James, firm, while attempting to stand up. After a moment, James rushes to give him a hand, keeping a tight grip on the other man’s waist to help him keep his balance as he gets back on his feet.

James doesn’t let him go, not even when they’re making their way out of the room, not when Marlene calls after Regulus, and not even when Emma watches them with such intensity it sends a shiver down James’ spine. However, and for some reason, James can’t find it in himself to look at her in return. He keeps all his focus on Regulus, his fingers wrapped securely around his hip.

Regulus doesn’t stop once they’re out, the door closing right behind them. He continues walking, and James follows without question, letting the other man guide them both through the maze of a house they live in.

He takes James to one of the storage rooms, probably because he’s aware that the chances of someone walking in are slim. Not to mention, it’s definitely the last place where someone would look for them, so it’s perfect to get some privacy. The music and the chatter can’t reach them there, and the room is spacious enough for them to not feel trapped, or suffocated. James can already breathe a bit better, the pressure between his temples softening until it’s barely noticeable.

Regulus turns around to face him, and James is about to pull his hand away, worried that the other man might feel restricted, but Regulus steps even closer, and wraps his arms around James’ neck. He swallows down a tiny, startled noise, and rushes to put both hands on Regulus’ waist, making sure he knows he’s more than on board with this development.

Damn, Regulus is really clingy when he’s had a few drinks. James supposes he shouldn’t judge, considering he’s even worse when properly drunk, but it feels like more coming from Regulus. He’s pretty sure this is the most they’ve touched since they met.

Not like he’s complaining.

“Why did you bring me here?” James asks quietly. There’s no need to whisper, they’re completely alone, but it had been so loud in the living room… he can’t help it. It’s like there’s some part of him who’s terrified of breaking whatever moment he and Regulus have been having all night.

“You needed to get out of there,” Regulus answers as if it’s obvious, and James shifts slightly.

“I was fine—”

“James, you looked seconds away from puking your guts out.”

Regulus gives him a very pointed look, and it drags a sigh out of James, who can’t even bring himself to try and argue any further.

“I just—” James pauses, taking a deep breath. His hands hold onto Regulus’ waist in a way that must be nearly painful, before they loosen once again. The other man doesn’t so much as twitch. “I can’t believe he fucking did that. I can’t believe he—he ruined everything.”

Regulus purses his lips, one of his hands sliding up until his fingers tangle in James’ hair, scratching at his scalp and pulling softly at his curls. It doesn’t manage to make him relax completely, because he doesn’t think anything could, but it does help.

“I know he’s been struggling a lot lately, and I know he and Emmeline have gotten quite close but—I never expected him to actually cross the line.” James shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh slipping past his lips. “Fuck, I’m so fucking mad. I’m so mad at him, and her, and this stupid fucking show.”

“Oh, James,” Regulus whispers, his voice sounding as devastated as he himself feels.

“He’s my friend, Reg. I don’t—he was supposed to be better than this. He loves Mary, I know he does, you’ve seen how he talks about her. I don’t get—why would he—”

“James, baby, I don’t think—it’s not that simple,” Regulus says, wincing as the words leave his mouth, eyes suddenly leaving James’ and settling somewhere over his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” he asks, a frown already making itself present in his face. “Because from where I’m standing it’s very straightforward. Peter destroyed his relationship over some temporary relief—”

“That’s not true. He and Mary already had more than a few issues. He wouldn’t have joined the show otherwise—”

“Sure, issues that they came here to fucking fix. He was supposed to be fighting for his relationship. Resisting temptation and choosing his girlfriend despite every obstacle because that’s the woman he wants to marry—”

“Sometimes it’s not that easy,” Regulus protests, and all the previous tenderness has disappeared from his tone. This time, when he meets James’ gaze again, his eyes look sharp. “Sometimes the circumstances push you to slip up, and you don’t realise it until it’s too late, and that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person—”

“Except it does,” James cuts him off in a hiss, leaning forward slightly. “Cheating is wrong no matter the context. I don’t give a fuck about situation or circumstances. There’s no fucking excuse.”

Regulus presses his lips in a thin line, and James can tell he’s holding back. Biting his tongue to keep himself from continuing the argument, to stop it from escalating before any of them end up saying something they might regret.

James wants to think that it’s mostly because Regulus, deep down, knows he’s right. There’s no point in fighting when James is merely stating a fact. He understands where Regulus is coming from, but he’s not in the mood for listening, or keeping an open mind. Because it doesn’t matter what Regulus might think, some things are black or white, and this is one of them.

“Okay,” Regulus grits out, fingers twitching where they’re wrapped around James’ curls. It’s hard enough that it stings, and he nearly lets out a gasp.

“Okay?” he questions, a bit wary. Regulus doesn’t usually give up this easily, and he never shies away from an argument. He’s too prideful for that.

“Yes, James,” he sighs. “Okay.”

He doesn’t know why, because he hasn’t been a confrontational person since he was fifteen and stupid, but James is a little disappointed about Regulus choosing peace this time. Maybe it’s because of what Peter did, maybe because he’s been feeling on edge since Regulus joined him in the loveseat. But James was itching for a fight, for anything that could let him blow off some steam. He kind of hates the way Regulus makes him feel sometimes, clumsy and inexperienced and messy in the worst way, but he’s also a bit addicted to it.

It’s ugly, sure, but it’s also real. And James is helpless to the fondness it inspires in him. There’s nothing about Regulus or related to him that he can bring himself to despise, anyway.

“Thank you,” James murmurs, and he doesn’t exactly mean it, not about this. But he does about everything else, and that’s enough.

Regulus gives him a tiny nod, his mouth curving in a smile that never quite reaches his eyes.

“Of course,” he says, giving James’ hair one last pull before he steps away. James misses his touch immediately. “Anyway, it’s been intense tonight, and I’ve already stayed longer than I planned so I think I’m… gonna go.”

James clamps his mouth shut, stopping a complaint from escaping before it’s too late. He swallows thickly, and then forces himself to grin widely, nodding a couple of times. It takes him a second, but he also manages to step back, increasing the sudden distance between them.

“Yeah, I should head to bed, too.” James rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not in the mood to go back to the party.”

“That’s fair.” Regulus shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He looks around the room, that’s nearly deserted, apart from a few boxes and some cleaning supplies, and then he finally dares to look at James once again. “I guess I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

It’s stilted, and awkward, and it makes James want to scream. Still, he makes sure his smile never falters, watching as Regulus takes another step towards the door. And another. And another.

“Yeah, Reg. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Regulus exhales shakily, his hand curling around the door handle. “Okay. Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

He opens the door, and James can’t repress a flinch when Regulus slips out and slams it closed.

***

James would like to say that it feels good. That it feels great, even, because it’s definitely karmic justice, and more than a little deserved, and maybe after so much worrying, after discussing it so often, they ended up manifesting it.

Divine punishment, some would call it.

He wishes he could be happy about it. Or, well, maybe not happy, because that’s a bit too cruel, James supposes, but it’d be nice, to at least be neutral about it. To not relish in it, but still be able to take it, to accept it, because it’s only fair, to get a taste of your own fucking medicine.

Except James isn’t built like that. Not when it comes to people he cares about. He’s still angry, and disappointed, and upset, but seeing Peter break down in front of him like this manages to push every negative feeling he’s had these past few days aside. James is helpless to the way his heart breaks when his friend covers his mouth to muffle a sob.

In front of him, the video on the tablet continues to play on. James blinks, but the clip of Mary sitting on Fabian’s lap as they make out on the couch is still pretty much there, and it only seems to worsen with every painstaking second.

By the end of it, James is almost convinced that they’re gonna go further, cross yet another line, but then the video is over, and it’s bad, it’s really fucking bad, but at least it was only kissing. At least they didn’t dare to push more than that.

And isn’t that so unbelievably sad? That they’re all feeling sort of relieved, because it could’ve been a lot worse? As if watching your girlfriend kiss someone else with such passion isn’t heartbreaking enough.

Pandora’s expression is carefully blank when she looks away from the tablet and focuses on Peter, who’s shaking from head to toe, still crying against his hands. Kingsley and Frank are caressing him everywhere they can’t reach, and they’ve been doing so since before Pandora showed him any images. James had made a point of not touching Peter for this Bonfire, and he hates to admit that he regrets it. His whole body is itching with the need to comfort.

Although, it’s not like there’s anything he could do that would actually make Peter feel any better.

“Peter,” Pandora begins, her tone grave. “How are you feeling right now?”

James can barely suppress the need to scoff. What a stupid fucking question. The poor man is having trouble breathing properly and she still has the audacity of asking him about his feelings?

Frank and Kingsley exchange a glance before staring straight at Pandora, something harsh and tense shining in their eyes. But she pays them no mind, refusing to look away from Peter even for a single second.

“I—” Peter tries, voice cracking immediately. “Fuck, sorry, I just—I need a second—”

He gets up, pulling away from the others’ contact in the process. James sees the way in which Frank and Kingsley’s eyes widen at this, their hands frozen mid-air. Pandora, however, doesn’t even react, only giving a tilt of her head as Peter takes a few steps away from them. He doesn’t move too far, but it still makes James go tense all over, to the point he considers standing up and following after him.

Peter paces a little, hands burying themselves in his hair and pulling while he does his best to calm down his breathing. At some point, he stops crying, but his face is still twisted in what can only be described as pain, and James’ heart squeezes painfully at the sight.

“Should we do something?” Kingsley whispers to Frank, squirming nervously in his seat.

“Like what?” Frank responds in the same tone.

“I don’t know! But I can’t—it’s killing me to watch him like this and I just—”

“Quiet,” Regulus hisses unexpectedly. He’s been more silent than usual during this Bonfire, so his interruption makes James jump a little. “He’s already stressed enough. Wait until he comes back.”

After a beat, both Kingsley and Frank give a tight nod, even though Regulus isn’t looking at them and can’t see it. James’ eyes linger on the back of his head, and he tries his best to focus on those black curls he knows so well instead of the frantic figure just a few metres away from him.

“Peter,” Pandora calls him, after a minute or two of this, probably starting to feel impatient. She needs to keep her fucking audience entertained, of course. “Pull yourself together.”

James’ jaw clenches painfully, and he’s about to say something, when Regulus turns around sharply, narrowing his eyes at him in what can only be described as a threat. James is so ridiculously floored by this that he ends up obeying, sitting a bit straighter as he bites down on his tongue.

Regulus, clearly satisfied with that response, goes back to looking forward once he’s made sure James won’t speak out of turn.

Peter stops his pacing, standing completely still before he nods slowly and begins to walk back to where they’re all sitting. He’s stopped crying, but there’s this vacant look on his face that sends a shiver down James’ spine.

When he returns to his seat, he does so robotically, like he’s moving on autopilot. James tries to get his attention a couple of times, searching to offer him some reassurance, even though things have been more than a little strained between them since that one party. But Peter doesn’t seem to notice, eyes settled on nowhere in particular, and James loses his chance, once again stuck watching Peter’s back.

“Sorry,” Peter mutters. “That was… really fucking hard to watch.”

“I get it,” Pandora says quietly, although James seriously doubts she does. “Did you expect Marty to cross the line at some point?”

“Yes,” Peter replies. It pains James to see how quickly he responds, the fact that there’s no hesitance in his tone. “I didn’t wanna believe it, but a part of me always knew.”

“Why? Has she ever given you reasons to not trust her?”

“It’s never been about her, I don’t think. I always assumed it was me.” Peter pauses and exhales shakily. “I’ve never—been the most confident. Mary’s the brave one. She always speaks her mind and if it weren’t for her, we would’ve never started dating. She’s the one that confessed and made it happen. I was too much of a coward. Still am, to be honest.”

“Is that why you thought it was bound to happen? Because you’ve never felt like you’re enough for her?”

“Hey, that’s not—” Frank starts, but a single look from Pandora manages to silence him.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak out of turn,” she tells him politely, a smile on her face, but there’s nothing kind in her gaze as she regards him. “This is about Peter.”

“You’re going too far,” Frank protests, but it comes out too weak. Almost nervous.

“Am I?” Pandora tilts her head to the side, feigning innocence. She clearly isn’t expecting an answer, but Frank opens his mouth anyway, ready to speak, except he never gets the chance. “Because even if that’s true, I’m afraid it’s not your place to say it,” she goes on, Frank pressing his lips together right after, teeth gritted. “It’s Peter’s call.”

“Frank, it’s okay,” Peter tells him, tilting his head back enough for their eyes to meet briefly. He doesn’t even attempt a smile, and both of James’ hands curl into fists, nails digging harshly into his palms. “She isn’t trying to start anything, you know? It’s just her job. And I—I think I need to talk about it.”

There’s a beat of silence, the air so charged and heavy every breath they take becomes suffocating.

“Okay, then,” Frank mumbles, albeit reluctantly. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” Peter reassures him, still sounding concerningly numb.

Pandora grins sweetly at Peter, urging him with a move of her head. “Well?”

“You asked if my doubts come from my… my feeling of inferiority,” Peter says, and James hears him swallow thickly. “And yes, they do. A part of me didn’t even wanna consider the possibility. Not seriously. But the rest of me has always known.”

“And yet, you were so shocked,” Pandora points out.

“It still stung,” Peter explains with a shrug. James wants to hug him so badly, even if he isn’t sure he deserves it. “I thought she loved me enough to not cross that line, even if she wanted to. I thought—I thought she respected me more—”

“Didn’t you also cheat on her a few days ago?” Pandora cuts him off, a certain glint in her eyes that James has seen before and that he fucking despises.

Peter’s shoulders go stiff, and he stutters around his answer a few times, never managing to finish half a word. James can see the back of his neck turning a bright shade of red, and Pandora’s smile widens with every extra second Peter spends struggling.

James feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind. It’s not like Pandora isn’t right. Sure, Peter is rightfully upset, because his girlfriend has gone behind his back and he’s been forced to watch her kiss someone else out of her own volition. But hasn’t he done the same to her? Isn’t he putting Mary through the exact same thing? Peter has no business playing the fucking victim after making out with Emmeline a few nights ago, and yet, that doesn’t change that he’s currently suffering. James understands why he is, and he respects it. Just like he agrees with the point Pandora is trying to make, while also being furious with her for bringing it up.

“Yeah,” Peter squeaks at some point, head hanging low between his shoulders. “I did, but I—it was an accident—”

“How so?” Pandora wonders, sounding genuinely curious.

“I was drunk. We—we both were—”

“Drunk enough to not know what you were doing?”

“I mean, not really—”

“You were both aware, then.”

Peter curls into himself. “I guess. But I wasn’t—”

“She did exactly the same thing you did to her,” Pandora states slowly, as if she’s rejoicing in it.

“It’s different, though!” Peter argues, voice going impossibly high.

“I fail to see how. From where I’m standing, you’re both in the wrong. You’ve both failed your relationship.”

“But—”

“I only have one more question for you,” Pandora says, so casually ruthless. “Would you be able to forgive her?”

Peter’s head snaps back up. “What?” he wheezes.

“If Mary apologised and asked you to stay with her. Would you be willing to forgive this?”

James thinks the answer is obvious. There’s a lot of things you can overlook or let go in a relationship, and cheating isn’t, and will never be, one of them.

However, it seems like not everyone sees it as clearly as him.

“I—” Peter starts, having to stop for a second to clear his throat. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

James gapes at the back of his head, lips parting in a silent exclamation, and the fact that he appears the only one astonished by this declaration only makes it worse.

“Interesting,” Pandora hums, her gaze staying on Peter for a moment before it focuses on James, making his breath stutter in his chest. “Hello, James.”

“Hello,” he greets her back, and he tries to sound cold, he really does, but he’s too on edge.

“How have you been holding up?” she asks, and James is tempted to laugh in her face.

“Not well, as I’m sure you can imagine,” James grits out.

Pandora nods, the gesture filled with sympathy, and James feels like he’s being mocked. “I know it’s been hard for you, having to watch your friends struggle. You truly have such a big, loving heart.”

James doesn’t say anything. He can even bring himself to play along and grin at Pandora.

“But, then again, I’m certain you’re also dealing with some issues of your own. I’m sure this whole situation must be really confusing for you.”

A furrow settles between James’ eyebrows. “What situation?”

“What, so you don’t know?”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, dear.” Pandora puts a hand on her chest, giving a shake of her head. “I don’t want to make matters worse, James. I feel like it’s better if I don’t say. You’ll realise it in due time.”

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” James exclaims with an incredulous laugh, running a hand through his head, messing it all up. He can feel Regulus’ stare boring into his side, but he doesn’t think himself capable of looking back. James takes a deep breath. “Listen, I just—I’m not really in the mood, Pandora. It’s been a long, difficult night, and I want to—can we just get to it? Please?”

“Of course,” she reassures him, voice sickeningly sweet. “I like to check up on each and everyone of you during the Bonfires, but it’s never my intention to overstep any boundaries. I hope you know this.”

James gives her a flat look. “Of course,” he deadpans, watching as her lips curve into a tiny smile.

“Good. With that said, I regret to inform you that there are no images for you this week, James.”

There’s a sharp inhale somewhere to his right. Someone clamps a hand down on James’ knee, gripping it tightly. He thinks there’s also a gasp, or maybe two.

“What?” Regulus questions in a hiss, and when James chances a glance at him, he finds him gawking at Pandora.

James definitely understands the sentiment. Because, really, what?

Chapter Text

Regulus feels like he’s tried everything at this point, and yet, nothing seems to work. Not in the way he wants to, or for as long as he wishes to. He’s at his wit’s end, his stress reaching unknown levels even for him, and no matter how hard he tries, Regulus can’t seem to come up with any more distractions. He’s at that point in which the obvious choice is to admit defeat and give up, but Regulus can’t. He can’t because he can’t fucking stand to see James looking so off.

It’s only been a couple of days since the last Bonfire, and James has been walking around the house like he’s a mere shell of his previous self. Regulus can count with the fingers of one hand the amount of times the other man has smiled since that night. It’s been driving him up the wall, because James is the kind of person who’s constantly grinning but now it’s like a switch has been turned off, and Regulus hates it.

James isn’t speaking much, either. He mostly listens when they’re all together and answers when someone addresses him directly. And sometimes he doesn’t even manage that. Sometimes it’s like his mind is somewhere very far away, making it impossible to get his attention, and after a few failed attempts, they all end up dropping it, switching the topic and allowing James to continue losing himself in his thoughts.

Although, if Regulus is being honest, the others haven’t been looking after James like they probably should.

Look, he gets it. After what Peter had to watch during the Bonfire, he understands why Kingsley and Frank, and even some of the girls, would choose to focus on him. Peter didn’t come out of his room at all the day after the Bonfire, and only allowed Emmeline in there after she begged him time and time again, waiting outside his door for hours with a plate filled with some leftovers from lunch. No one knows what she said to him once he finally opened the door, but Peter was at breakfast the next day, even if completely silent, dark bags under his eyes.

There’s a clear priority, and Regulus knows that Kingsley and Frank paying more attention to Peter doesn’t mean that they don’t care about James. They’ve been trying to cheer him up too, in their own way, combining their efforts when they’re all hanging out together and hoping to kill two birds with one stone.

But Regulus is having a hard time being logical these days. And he’s come to find that being angry at the others is a great exercise to let out some of his frustration, so when Kingsley or Frank or both of them suddenly remember James also exists, and that he’s also struggling, Regulus doesn’t hold back. He doesn’t swallow any mean comments, or any taunts, and has even told them to fuck off on more than one occassion.

They never really rise to the bait, which is more than a little disappointing. They’ve been so understanding, so careful, as if they get what Regulus is feeling and don’t wish to make it worse. Of course, this only manages to piss him off more, which results in Regulus being more vicious each and every time they dare to approach James.

It’s an endless cycle. Regulus genuinely fears he might end up punching either of them at some point. And the worst part is that he’s sort of hoping they’d push him to that point. He’s been itching for a good fight since they arrived back home after the Bonfire.

A good cry would probably help relieve most of the tension he’s been carrying, too, but Regulus would rather die than be so vulnerable in a place he’s not completely comfortable in. Besides, he’s been staying as close to James as possible, and the thought of the other man seeing him in such a weak state is enough to make him feel terribly nauseous.

No, he needs to be strong. He needs to be tough for once, still hiding behind someone else’s shadow and picking the easiest way out. If not for himself, then at least for James. He’s been there whenever Regulus has needed him, regardless of all the arguments and all the times Regulus was an absolute prick to him. He’ll make sure to be there for James now.

Regulus stands right in front of the other man’s bedroom, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He’s attempted to knock a couple of times since he got here about five minutes ago, but he’s ended up chickening out both times.

This is so stupid. Regulus is so stupid. Sure, he’s never been in James’ room before, has only been given a little peek when he’s walked the other man there to make sure he was going to bed. But now’s not the time to get all flustered over that, or let his imagination run wild. It’s already bad enough that Regulus likes James this much, considering where they are and that the other man is taken and very much straight. He doesn’t need this schoolboy with a crush shit on top of everything else, when James has been so fucking distressed.

Distressed over the girlfriend he’s very much in love with, fuck.

Regulus takes a deep breath and steels himself, and then, before his brain has the opportunity to halt his arm’s movement, he knocks loudly on the wood, one, two, three times.

As expected, there isn’t a single noise coming from the other side.

“James?” he calls tentatively, pausing right after just to clear his throat slightly. “James, it’s Reg. Are you in there?”

At first, there’s still nothing, but after a handful of seconds, Regulus can hear some shuffling on the other side, a tiny, relieved sigh making its way past his lips. It isn’t long before the door is being opened, the owner of the bedroom standing right in front of Regulus, rubbing distractedly at his eyes.

James doesn’t look good, but he doesn’t look the worst he’s looked so far, so Regulus chooses to take it as a victory. He’s wearing this old, very washed band t-shirt he told Regulus belongs to his father, as well as the basketball shorts he usually sleeps in. His glasses are sitting crooked on his nose, and Regulus’ fingers twitch with the need to reach out and make them right.

He’s still sporting those dark circles under his eyes, but Regulus thinks they seem a bit better. Or at the very least, they haven’t deepened, which is a win in his books.

The other man leans against the doorframe as he blinks blearily at Regulus, shoulders slightly hunched.

“Oh, hi, Reg,” James mumbles, and his voice sounds so wrong Regulus can barely suppress a flinch. “Did you need anything?”

“Um,” Regulus says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not really? But you’ve been in there since we had lunch, and it’s—it’s getting a bit late, so I was wondering if you’d like to do something before dinner? With me?”

James blinks at him again, tilting his head to the side until his temple is resting against the doorframe along the rest of his body.

“What did you have in mind?” James asks, and Regulus has a hard time staying rooted in place, instead of turning around and running the other direction like his mind is screaming at him to do.

“Well, I’m down for anything, really, but I thought… I thought that maybe I could read to you? Like I did a couple of nights ago?” Regulus attempts a smile, but it comes out as a grimace. “You seemed to enjoy that, and it even helped you sleep so I guess—I assumed that’d be nice—”

“You know you don’t have to do all this, right, Reg?”

Regulus’ mouth closes with a clack and his eyes widen, taking a step back almost unconsciously, but catching himself before he can get far.

“I’m not—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Regulus denies, cursing internally at the way he stammers around his whole sentence.

James arches an eyebrow at him, and for a very brief moment, he looks a bit more like himself, before exhaustion takes over his face once again.

“Regulus—” the other man begins with a sigh.

“If you’re suggesting that anything I’ve done these past few days, or even since we started this stupid show, has been only for your sake, then you better shut the fuck up right now,” Regulus cuts him off, happy he manages to keep his tone stable the whole time. “I like spending time with you, James. You ought to know that by now.”

James shrugs, going for casual and failing miserably. “I’m not the best company right now.”

“As if I give a fuck.”

“You should.”

“Well, I don’t,” Regulus insists, hoping James can see the sincerity in his eyes. “And if you’d rather be alone, that’s fine, you can have all the space you need. But don’t act like I’m forcing myself. That’s not the kind of person I am.”

“I know,” James murmurs softly, voice coming too close to breaking for comfort.

“Then stop overthinking it.”

James lets out a huff, but there’s some amusement somewhere in the noise, and it’s almost enough to drag a real grin out of Regulus.

“I’ll try,” the other man tells him, and that’ll have to do, Regulus supposes.

“Wanna do some reading, then?”

“You’re the only one who does the reading, but sure, I’d love to.”

Regulus brightens up at his answer, biting the inside of his cheek to keep something embarrassing from coming out, like a giggle.

“Great,” he says with an excited nod. “Let’s go, then—”

“Actually,” James interrupts him, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his head a little sheepishly. “Would it be okay to do it in my room this time? I don’t feel like seeing anyone else, and I don’t—I’d rather we don’t have an audience.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Regulus agrees in a rush, pretending his heart isn’t breaking a little at how uncomfortable James looks at the mere prospect of having to face the rest of his friends.

He’s aware that he hasn’t known James for that long, but it’s always been quite obvious, the fact that he loves being surrounded by people. He thrives on both the attention and the company; of course, there’s nothing wrong with needing some privacy from time to time, even James needs to keep to himself occasionally. But there’s a difference between wanting some alone time and actively hiding from people you appreciate and care about.

It’s killing Regulus little by little, watching James push everything that makes him happy away.

There’s nothing he wants more than to fix this, but he has no idea of how to or where to start. He’s been distracting James as much as possible since the Bonfire, but it’s bound to stop working at some point. Regulus fears that moment might be closer than he’d like.

“Thank you,” James says, and one corner of his mouth even twitches slightly upwards. Nearly all of Regulus’ worries fly out the window at the sight. “You wanna go grab your current read or are we using one of my books?”

Regulus shrugs. “It’s up to you, I don’t really mind.”

“I feel like yours is safer. I’m kinda tired, so the possibility of me falling asleep is pretty high. There’s no point in continuing my novel if I’m gonna miss half of what you read.”

“Is this your polite way of telling me that my taste in books is boring?”

The comment manages to drag a startled chuckle out of James, his posture becoming more relaxed after the fact, and Regulus feels like he just won the goddamn lottery.

It’s fine. James is gonna be just fine.

“No,” James drawls, ducking his head down as he bites his lower lip. “Just pretentious.”

“Fuck off,” Regulus says, but it lacks any heat, and he’s smiling like an absolute idiot all the while.

“Don’t worry, Reg, I like you and your pretentious poetry—”

“If you want me to read to you at all, you’ll stop before I change my mind.”

James raises both hands in mock surrender, before opening the door to his room a bit wider, beginning to retreat inside and inviting Regulus to follow with a lazy move of his head.

Regulus has a hard time fighting off his blush.

“Gimme a sec,” he mumbles, already turning around. “I’m just gonna grab my book. I’ll be back.”

James gives him a small nod and an encouraging smile, before disappearing inside the room. He makes sure to leave the door ajar, though, and the gesture, despite its simplicity, still manages to tug at Regulus’ heartstring. Massaging the side of his chest distractedly, Regulus heads to his own room, his pace a bit urgent.

He’s opening James’ door less than five minutes later, this time, not allowing himself to second-guess his actions. Regulus walks towards the bed like a man on a mission, where James is sitting down, patiently waiting for him, his body looking stiffer than Regulus would like. But he seems to visibly relax slightly once he hears Regulus come, patting the comforter under him with the beginning of a smile.

It’s more than a little nerve wracking, but Regulus holds onto his book tight, doing his best to hide the trembling of his hands, and then gets on the bed. He’s a bit ungraceful about it, but James doesn’t mention, which should be a source of joy but only serves to upset him. If James was feeling a bit less like shit, he’d probably would’ve teased him about it, to the point Regulus would’ve wanted to die out of sheer embarrassment.

He can’t believe he’s sad about James not trying his best to fluster him.

Regulus sits high on the bed with his back resting against the headboard. He doesn’t want to get too comfortable in case he ends up dozing off. He’s meant to be looking after James, making sure he’s content and rested enough.

The other man watches intently. When Regulus finally settles on a posture, already browsing through his poem anthology to decide where to start today, James finally moves. He’s slow in his approach, as if giving Regulus the chance to reject his advance, but there’s no hesitation in the way he lays his head on Regulus’ stomach, the way he curls around him. James wraps his arms around Regulus’ waist and tangles their legs together, hiding his face against Regulus’ belly momentarily, before he tilts his head towards him.

Regulus is sitting so still he isn’t even breathing, not daring to disturb James until he’s sure he’s comfortable enough. When the other man gazes up at him expectantly, Regulus coughs, shifting slightly before forcing his body to let go of as much tension as possible.

This is not the fucking time to allow his thoughts to stray.

Regulus focuses on the open book in front of him, holding it with one hand as he reaches out with the other, fingers finding for James’ soft curls. He flinches away for a second when he first grazes the hair, but after exhaling quietly, Regulus dives in once again, burying his hand in James’ locks and caressing gently. The other man lets out a pleased sound, melting against him, and Regulus raises his book a little higher to cover the rest of his face.

“Ready, baby?” he questions, relieved that his voice doesn’t waver.

Regulus has never been big on terms of endearment. He isn’t a fan of partners using pet names on him—although he’s made an exception here and there—and he barely uses them on others. That’s why he was nothing short of flabbergasted at himself after that one night he used ‘baby’ on James completely by accident.

The first time it had been a slip-up of the tongue, one Regulus is still mildly embarrassed about whenever he recalls it. The second time had also been mostly unintentional, but Regulus had been looking to distract James in some way and he’d known that that pet name was going to do the trick.

All the times that have come after that have been a mix of Regulus indulging both James and himself. He keeps telling himself that there’s nothing wrong with it, because a lot of friends speak to each other affectionately like that, and if James likes it this much, then he can absolutely make the effort. But the truth is that the name is starting to roll off his tongue a bit too easily. A bit too comfortably.

Regulus has no idea of how long he’s going to be able to use James as an excuse, when it’s getting harder than harder to ignore that he actually loves dropping a soft baby whenever he and James are alone.

It makes him feel like, maybe, there could be something more. And Regulus refuses to go down that path.

This whole thing with James is already painful enough as it is. He doesn’t need something as flimsy as hope on top of everything else.

“Yeah,” James replies, already sounding about to pass out. “The stage is yours.”

Regulus bites his tongue to keep a snort from escaping, lowering his book just so James can see him roll his eyes. It manages to make James smile a bit wider, though, which makes it even more worth it. However, he has to avert his gaze from the other man as soon as James nuzzles his nose into his side, dropping a light kiss on where Regulus’ shirt has slid up a little.

He does his best to hide the way a violent shiver rattles his whole frame, but he doubts he’s successful. By the way James repeats the action almost immediately, Regulus can tell that the other man has definitely noticed.

Regulus pretends his cheeks don't feel like they’re on fire, and with a clearing of his throat, he begins reading.

***

“Can you hold me? Just for a second?”

Regulus nearly drops his glass on the ground, staring at James with a slack jack and his eyebrows raised so high they nearly disappear under the curls falling over his forehead.

“You want me to—what?” he wheezes, regretting how fast he had drunk that last cocktail, because all of a sudden it was starting to get to his fucking head.

James chuckles awkwardly, taking a sudden step back as he runs a hand through his hair. He looks so ridiculously handsome tonight. Not like that’s anything new, really, but tonight’s party theme suits him incredibly well. Regulus hadn’t been very excited about having to dress up as a pirate, although he has to admit it’s definitely not the worst they’ve made them do so far. But after seeing how good James looks in those tight leather pants and that maroon bandana wrapped around his forehead, keeping his hair out of his eyes, Regulus thinks it might be his favourite.

Or it would be, if James wasn’t suddenly looking so miserable.

“Sorry,” James mumbles, eyes downcast, gold-rimmed glasses sliding dangerously low on his nose. “I didn’t—I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have come up to you with that shit, that isn’t—I’m really sorry, Reg.”

“James, it’s—” Regulus tries, carefully reaching out with both arms. It stings, when James winces at the attempt at contact and takes another step away from Regulus.

“I’ve been taking advantage of your kindness way too fucking much lately, and I’m—” James takes a trembling breath, shaking his head furiously, a suspiciously wet laugh escaping his mouth. “That’s not fair to you. And I knew I was pushing too much, being too clingy, but you kept taking it, so I just—I chose to be selfish, I guess. But you were bound to get fed up, and that’s fine, I promise I—”

“James can you stop talking for one fucking moment?”

Regulus doesn’t mean to sound so aggressive, but half the bullshit James keeps spewing, like he’s on a fucking roll, is enough to make his blood boil.

He does feel a bit guilty when the other man not only obeys, but he also curls a little into himself, his hands holding onto his elbows as if he needs comfort so desperately he isn’t above giving it to himself.

Regulus rubs at his forehead, breathing in and out a few times, not wanting to speak up again until he’s made sure that abrupt spark of anger has been extinguished and Regulus has checked it hasn’t managed to light anything on fire inside him.

“James,” he tries again after a handful of seconds, tone a lot softer. “You don’t have to apologise, okay? You’ve done nothing wrong. We’ve had so many variations of this conversation I’ve lost count at this point. I don’t do shit I don’t wanna do, and if you’re bothering me, or crossing any of my boundaries, I will tell you.”

“That’s true,” James admits, but he doesn’t sound very convinced. “But still, I—”

“No, there is no ‘buts’,” Regulus argues, firmly but making sure his voice remains gentle. “We’re—we’re friends, yeah? And I’m here for you, just like you are here for me. If I can help, or make you feel better, then I will. I always will.”

James blinks a few times, and his eyes are a bit too shiny. Regulus fears for a second that the other man will start crying. He’s never been good with tears, not even his own, so if James really is feeling unstable enough to cry, this whole situation is going to turn awkward real quick.

“You sure?” James inquires in a breathless whisper, taking a tentative step towards Regulus.

“Very sure,” Regulus assures him, crouching down so he can drop his empty glass, get it out of the way. “Of course you can hold me, James. You don’t even have to ask.”

There’s a moment in which time seems to stop. Regulus stares at James, keeping his expression open and genuine, and James stares at Regulus, eyes flickering all over his face, as if he’s searching for something.

Regulus doesn’t know how long they stay like this. It could be a handful of seconds, or a few minutes, or even a couple of hours. The only thing he knows is that one moment they’re completely still, barely breathing, and the next one James is crashing into him, arms wrapping around his waist and holding onto him almost desperately.

He lets out a grunt at the impact but doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the other man’s embrace, hands pressing into his back and gripping him just as tightly.

James buries his face on the crook of Regulus’ neck, and he’s clutching onto him with so much force Regulus is convinced he’s going to end up with marks in the shape of James’ fingers all around his hips.

The thought sends a pleased shiver down his spine, and Regulus tries to move even closer to James, a frustrated huff escaping his mouth when he realises he can’t.

Regulus turns his head a little, until his nose is pressed right into James’ hair, and inhales softly, the smell of sandalwood and pine filling up his senses. They’re both a bit sweaty because of the heat and all the dancing, but James still smells so lovely. Regulus thinks it’s all very unfair, but he’s definitely not complaining, not when he gets to enjoy it like this, James’ scent surrounding him.

At some point, James begins to claw at Regulus’ shirt, whining quietly against the skin of his neck. Regulus moves a hand up, up, up, and tangles it in James’ curls, pulling gently but insistently as he shushes the other man.

“You’re okay, baby,” Regulus mumbles, so softly he isn’t even sure James can hear him. “It’s fine, you’re fine. I’m here, I’m always here. You’re doing so well—”

James tugs at his shirt a bit more violently, and manages to untuck it from his waistband, slipping his hands under it and caressing every centimetre of skin they can reach. It happens so fast that it drags a gasp out of Regulus, and he arches his back, leaning into the contact.

He’d be more than a little embarrassed under normal circumstances. But these clearly aren’t normal circumstances. James isn’t doing well, and he needs Regulus to not be weird about it, to allow him to take as much as he wants and to get his mind out of the fucking gutter.

“Okay?” James mumbles into his throat, rubbing his whole face against it, his fingers never stopping their journey up and down Regulus’ back.

“More than okay,” Regulus breathes out, swallowing shameful noise after shameful noise. “You can do whatever you want, James. Whatever you want.”

“Fuck, Reg,” James pants in his throat, goosebumps breaking all over Regulus’ skin at the feeling of lips grazing the side of his throat. “Don’t say that.”

Regulus glances down, even though James’ expression is currently hidden. “Why not?”

“Because I know I’m already asking too much out of you. And I don’t wanna cross any more lines. I don’t want to—to push you away.”

“James—”

“No, don’t try to argue with me about this. I’m not in the mood.”

“But you’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” James insists, words coming out muffled and slightly petulant. Regulus rolls his eyes, and hates the fact that the gesture is filled with fondness. “You think I don’t notice but I do. I notice a lot of shit.”

“What are you even talking about?” Regulus huffs out, and he doesn’t sound as frustrated as he feels, because it’s very difficult to focus when James’ fingers are touching him so greedily.

“Doesn’t matter,” James grumbles.

“It very clearly does—”

“Just—” James pauses and exhales a bit too loudly, nails digging into the small of Regulus’ back hard enough to make him hiss. “Just hold me. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. I just want—this.”

As if to emphasise his point, James slides his hands upwards, pressing them insistently against Regulus’ shoulder blades, trying to push his bodies even more together. Regulus doesn’t think it’s possible, not unless one of them manages to crawl under the other’s skin, but he understands what James is attempting to say. Probably because he feels the same way.

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” Regulus scoffs, but he brushes a kiss on top of James’ head and tightens his grip around the other man to the point it must hurt. James simply sighs contentedly.

“And whose fault is that?” James answers back a little cheekily. Regulus is too happy to hear him tease to be annoyed about it.

“Shut up,” he says.

They don’t speak again after that, satisfied with just being in each other’s arms, which is pretty new to Regulus, considering he’s never been much of a hugger. He used to blame it on his family, on his upbringing, because the Blacks might be a lot of things, but affectionate isn’t one of them. His father has always seen it as a sign of weakness, and his mother had always looked uncomfortable whenever she tried to embrace either him or Sirius. Even the occasional pat on their heads had been stilted, rigid. As if she had been following a script she was unfamiliar with.

His brother had been a lot more physical in that sense, and when they were little, they tended to hug relatively often. They also cuddled, sometimes, when one of them had managed to anger their parents and had been left devastated after a especially harsh scolding. Sirius had made Regulus comfortable with physical touch, to the point he had stopped flinching when he grazed someone in the hall at school or when any of his friends reached out to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

It hadn’t meant that he particularly enjoyed it, not when it came from someone he didn’t completely trust, but Regulus had learnt to tolerate it. To stop acting like an absolute weirdo when it happened.

This doesn’t mean he seeks it out, however, because Regulus has come to realise that he isn’t the affectionate type. It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with his parents, although he’s more than happy to add this a never-ending list of ways in which Walburga and Orion Black had fucked him up. Regulus simply needs to be utterly at ease in someone’s presence to welcome their touch. It just isn’t something that happens often. He’s aware that that’s mostly on him—he’s quite stubborn when it comes to letting other people in—but, well. That one he can blame entirely on his family.

With James, though, it feels like he’s, once again, relearning how wonderful physical contact can be when it’s given by the right person. Apart from Dorcas, Regulus can barely remember the last time he was hugged like this. He doesn’t even think Dorcas has ever hugged him like this, because she isn’t that big on touch, either, although she does have her moments.

He thinks it had probably been Sirius, before the seed of resentment had been planted by their parents and taken root. Before all the fighting and the cruelty and the abandonment. It aches in the worst places, the fact that Regulus can’t recall how it felt like, hugging his brother and being hugged in return. The only thing he has left is an echo of the sensation, a little something tugging at the back of his head from time to time, like his body recognises what he’s experiencing but is unable to link it to a concrete memory.

In a way, Regulus supposes it’s quite fitting. Sirius has always felt more of a ghost than a person.

Shaking his head slightly, he swats away any thoughts about his stupid brother, and returns his focus to the lovely man still holding onto him like a lifeline. Regulus scratches at James’ scalp, rubs the back of his neck and caresses his arms, never getting enough of him and how he feels against him, skin on skin. James seems very pleased by every touch he can get from Regulus, humming softly and pressing into the contact.

They don’t get to bask into the embrace for long, unfortunately, because when Regulus is about to move them away from the edge of the pool, maybe find them a nice lounger where they can lie down, he hears the sliding door open.

“Jem?” someone calls tentatively, the voice being followed by footsteps. “Jem, are you there?”

Regulus’ whole body goes stiff, and he doesn’t bother to repress his scowl; James isn’t looking at him and can’t call him out on it. Still, he doesn’t move away, choosing to relish in whatever long they have left of their hug before stupid fucking Emma gets closer and ruins it.

It takes James a moment, almost as if he’s just woken up from a nice dream and is still a bit too drowsy to process what’s going on around him. He groans softly before he finally raises his head, blinking slowly at Regulus with a tilt of his head. His eyes have gone half-lidded, the corners of his mouth are curled upwards.

God, Regulus wants to kiss him so fucking much it physically pains him.

He should’ve never allowed himself to get this close to James. It’s bound to get his heart broken sooner rather than later, and Regulus knew, he’s known since the very beginning. He’s supposed to be smarter than this, for fuck’s sake. He should’ve put his foot down when he still had the chance.

“Jem?” Emma says again, raising her voice slightly. Regulus turns his head enough to see her walking towards them.

James frowns. “Is that Emma?”

“Yeah,” Regulus answers, cold and detached and allowing numbness to set it. “She just came outside. I think she’s looking for you.”

James seems to perk up a little at this, and it sends a pang straight through Regulus’ chest. Fortunately, he’s used enough to this, to Emma always being there and showing up at the most inconvenient times, so it isn’t difficult to keep his expression guarded. Indifferent. Never letting James see more than he already has.

Emma continues her advance, and after a few more seconds of Regulus staring straight ahead, jaw set, James finally untangles himself from him, taking a couple of steps back. The sudden distance makes Regulus want to cry, but he doesn’t say anything. He even widens the gap himself once Emma reaches them.

“There you are,” she sighs, smiling softly but with wrinkles covering her forehead. “You had me so worried. You just bolted in the middle of the game, no explanation, and I—”

“I’m sorry,” James rushes to apologise, tone soft. He extends his hands and puts them on Emma’s naked upper arms, rubbing them sweetly, and Regulus looks away as he swallows thickly. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene—”

“I don’t care about that,” she cuts him off sharply, moving a bit closer to James. “I care about you. And I should be the one apologising, I thought you were having fun, but I shouldn’t have—I really didn’t wanna pressure you into it, Jem, I thought you were enjoying yourself—”

“I was,” James tells her, and Regulus can nearly hear his smile. It makes his stomach turn. “I was having lots of fun. You know I’m not a fan of those party games, but… You were respecting my boundaries. We weren’t doing anything wrong. It was nice.”

“Yeah?” she asks quietly, almost shyly.

“Yeah,” James agrees easily. He sounds sincere, and Regulus feels betrayed for some reason, because not that long ago, James had told him how much he despises those games. How he’d never join in, regardless of what the others had to say about it.

He’s sure that the kind of boundaries James set are strict and respectful of his girlfriend, so Regulus doubts that whatever he and Emma were playing had any resemblance to one of the actual party games. But it’s the principle of the thing. Regulus has no business feeling this betrayed, but he really can’t help it.

“Okay, that’s good. I’m glad.” Emma sighs and Regulus takes a peek, just to find her touching James’ exposed chest, looking up at him with stars in her eyes. “Next time, though, just tell me if you start feeling uncomfortable, or overwhelmed. If you wanna stop, then we stop. And if you need support, I’m here.”

James gives her a little nod, his smile growing momentarily until his gaze is focused on Regulus, who straightens up almost as a reflex, both eyebrows arching. James continues to caress lightly up and down Emma’s arms, and his grin seems to be for her, but his eyes meet Regulus’ head on, and he has no idea what it means.

It feels nice, though. Having all of James’ attention, even when he’s supposed to be focusing on someone else.

“Anyways, you don’t have to worry about it anymore,” Emma goes on, hands sliding up James’ torso until they’re clutching his shoulders. “I convinced them to stop with those stupid games, and we’re all playing Jenga.”

James tears his eyes away from Regulus, and when they settle on Emma, there’s a certain twinkle in them.

“What?” he questions, an excited laugh slipping in. “Seriously?”

“Yeah! They were a bit against it at first, but after a couple of rounds they all got super competitive.”

“Oh, I definitely need to see that. I bet King and Frank are at each other’s throats.”

“You have no idea. We’ve had to hold them back more than once.” Emma giggles. “Pete and Marls are also taking it way too seriously. They’re really good at it.”

“Not better than me, though,” James points out teasingly, making Emma laugh again. The sound comes out a bit flirtier, this time. Regulus has to bite his tongue to keep a scoff from escaping.

“Why don’t you come and prove it, then?”

James narrows his eyes at her, but the gesture is playful, and he’s grinning wider than Regulus has seen him all week. He knows it should make him happy—that’s all he’s wanted since that damned Bonfire. To at least get a glimpse of the James he knows and has come to adore, to watch him laugh and joke around and have fun.

But Regulus isn’t that good of a person. He’s selfish and incredibly petty, and it kills him, having to bear witness to James’ joy, knowing someone else is the reason for it.

“I guess I have to. Someone has to show them how it’s done,” James states, and with one last squeeze, he finally lets go of Emma’s arms.

“Yes!” she exclaims excitedly, punching the air. James snorts. “Can we team up?”

James glances at Regulus so quickly he almost thinks he imagined it. “You trying to get an easy win, or what?” he asks her, still teasing.

“You’re so full of yourself,” she huffs with a roll of her eyes. “I happen to be quite good at Jenga, too, so I was just doing you a favour.”

“Who’s full of themselves now?” James laughs, shaking his head. “Fine, then. We can team up for a round.”

“Just one?” Emma wonders, batting her lashes as she pouts. Regulus nearly gags.

“Well, yeah. I’m gonna beat you in the next.”

“As if!”

Emma pushes him a little, barely using any force, but James still pretends to stumble with a gasp, dragging a delighted laugh out of her.

Regulus’ hands curl into fists at his sides, and his jaw is beginning to hurt from how much he’s been gritting his teeth. He doesn’t even know why he hasn’t gone back to the house yet. Anyone would say he’s into pain with the way he’s subjecting himself to this whole scene. If it goes on for much longer, he might end up emptying the contents of his stomach.

“You’re such a sore loser,” James mocks her, dodging the next of her attacks with a chuckle.

“I haven’t lost yet!” Emma protests, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You said it yourself. ‘Yet’.”

“God, you’re such an asshole—”

“You like this asshole.”

“Yeah, because I have terrible taste.”

“Oi!”

They continue bickering and laughing and finding excuses to touch each other, and the sight is so sickeningly sweet. They’re both very at ease around each other, and James already looks more relaxed, as if joking around with Emma is enough to get rid of all his concerns.

It gives him such a bittersweet feeling. Watching James like this, when he’s relaxed and fooling around, warms Regulus to his very core. But he can’t enjoy it fully, not when Emma is also there, making eyes at James, putting her hands everywhere, the want plain on her face.

A want that Regulus is more than familiar with.

At some point, James wraps his arms around Emma’s waist when she attempts to hit him once again, picking her up and twirling her around. She screeches and kicks her legs before she bursts into laughter, and it doesn’t take long for James to join in.

It doesn’t last more than a handful of seconds, and yet, by the time Emma’s feet are back on solid ground, Regulus is so upset he kind of feels like crying.

How embarrassing.

“Thank you,” James murmurs breathlessly, chest heaving while he beams at her.

Emma snorts. “What for?”

“The list is already way too long. But mostly for tonight.”

She tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her grin subduing considerably as her gaze lowers to the floor.

“I haven’t done anything,” Emma says quietly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“You ruined the party just so I could have a good time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just getting tired of all those silly games and Peter and Emmeline being all over each other. I needed a change.”

“Sounds reasonable,” James agrees immediately, unable to keep a straight face. “Why pick Jenga, though?”

“I like it,” she replies defensively. “And I felt like it was something everyone could enjoy—”

“So it has nothing to do with the fact that I told you that it’s my favourite board game?” James questions with a raised eyebrow and half a smirk.

Regulus can’t tell from where he’s standing, and the lighting isn’t the best outside, especially when they’re considerably far from the house, but he’s pretty sure Emma’s blushing. Because of course she fucking is.

It’s not like Regulus can blame her. He knows firsthand how easily James can fluster someone.

“Not at all,” she sniffs, tilting her chin up. She’s still avoiding James’ gaze, though. “I had completely forgotten about that.”

“Of course,” James says, smirk widening. “Why would you remember such an inconsequential detail?”

“Right?” she plays along, waving her hands around heatedly. “Honestly, Jem, not everything is about you.”

“No? I feel like it should be.”

“You’re absolutely insufferable.”

“Thank you, I really try.”

Emma scoffs, and rolls her eyes and even sends a glare James’ way. But her eyes are bright, and her lips keep twitching with the need to curl upwards.

“Shut up and let’s go back inside already,” she grumbles, wrapping her fingers around one of James’ wrists, pulling insistently at his arm. “I’m even more motivated to kick your ass now.”

James laughs again and allows himself to be pulled, staring at the back of Emma’s head with what can only be described as fondness. They don’t get very far, however, because James’ eyes slightly widen before he stops completely, halting Emma’s advance in the process.

She tilts her head back. “Jem? What’s wrong?”

“Reg,” James says, turning his body so he’s back to facing him. The distance between them is considerable now, and Regulus hates every centimetre filling that gap. “You coming?”

Emma startles a little, her focus shifting from James to Regulus. She blinks at him, lips parting in a silent exhalation.

“Oh,” she mumbles. “Hey, Reg.”

He doesn’t even acknowledge her. Usually, and when James isn’t present, he and Emma get along just fine. They don’t talk that much, or actively seek each other out, but they don’t dislike each other. Regulus is mature enough to be aware that most of his hatred for her is born out of jealousy, so he does his best to remain civil. She’s genuinely nice, and he has nothing against her outside of her relationship with James.

But he isn’t currently in the mood to play along, or feign any politeness. Emma hadn’t noticed his presence, either, so Regulus thinks it’s fair for him to also pretend she isn’t there.

“Reg?” James calls him again, worry seeping into his voice.

Regulus’ first instinct is to refuse. He usually tends to return to his own room when they all get started on the games. He’s participated in them once or twice, but he never allows Marlene—because it’s always her getting paired up with him— to get too far, so no one minds much if he opts out. It’s not as fun when someone doesn’t play along and give them a good show.

That had been the plan today, originally. James had joined the games for the first time last night, and even though he’d kept his distance, careful to remain respectful to Lily, it had been hard for Regulus to watch. Somehow, it had felt even more intimate than the usual flirting and casual touching he and Emma have going on. That’s why, today, after James had agreed to participate once again, Regulus had excused himself, murmuring about needing some fresh air. He had intended to head to bed after a bit, until James had stumbled out demanding to be held.

Regulus really doesn’t want to go back to the party.

But James is looking at him with this hopeful look, refusing to move until he gets a response. It’s clear that he wants Regulus there, for some reason, and even though he’s denied James before, it seems to be getting harder and harder to muster the willpower anymore. Maybe it’s because James has had a terrible week, or maybe it’s because Regulus is unable to hate him or stay mad at him, no matter how hard he tries.

He’s spent these past few days doing his best to cheer the other man up. To make sure he’s distracted, and content, and focusing on having a good time. Reminding him that this show is just playing with their insecurities, that not getting any images of Lily doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad. Going above and beyond just to see him smile.

Regulus doesn’t want to ruin all that progress just because he’s hurt. It’s not like it’s actually James’ fault, anyway. This is all on him, because he’s a fucking idiot who can’t make a good choice to save his life.

His night has already been ruined, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to ruin James’, too.

“Yeah,” Regulus says, hoping neither of them can notice how strained he sounds. “Of course I’m coming. I just need a sec and I’ll be there.”

Emma’s eyes jump from Regulus to James, and after a couple of seconds, she gives a tentative pull at James’ arm, urging him to resume their walking. But James doesn’t move, his gaze never straying from Regulus’ face, his expression blank but a bit tight.

Regulus stares back, and then he forces his mouth to curve in a tiny grin, before he gives James a firm nod. He isn’t sure how convincing the gesture looks, but some of the tension abandons James’ frame, his eyes softening around the edges. He returns the nod, and with one last look, James lets Emma, who’s frowning slightly, drag him away.

He watches them go. Regulus doesn’t manage to take a proper breath until they’re back inside and completely out of his sight, his lungs burning on the first inhale.

Regulus tilts his head back, blinking at the starry sky. He shuts his eyes tight for a moment, and wills the tears to not fall.

***

Marlene kicks him harshly in the shin, and Regulus wheezes in pain, his body doubling over while one of his hands reaches down, rubbing at the affected zone.

It’s a few seconds of his leg pulsating painfully, but when the ache subsides enough for him to focus, he makes sure to send the nastiest glare he can manage towards the seat opposite his.

Unsurprisingly, Marlene blinks innocently at him, her mouth unable to hide her shit-eating grin.

“What the fuck was that for?” he hisses, still pressing against his shin. He has no doubt that it’s going to bruise.

“You weren’t paying attention to me,” she responds easily, shrugging with one shoulder.

“We’ve just had dinner together,” Regulus deadpans, straightening up again and making a vague gesture with his wrist, signalling their slices of cake.

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’? We’re quite literally in the middle of a date!”

“I could hardly tell,” she snickers, taking another bite of her dessert. She has this disgusting habit of chewing with her mouth open, and never waiting to swallow before speaking. Regulus is used to it at this point, but he still wrinkles his nose at the sight. “I don’t think you’ve listened to half the shit I’ve said.”

“That’s not true,” Regulus argues, mildly offended. “We’ve been chatting the whole evening.”

“Not really,” she drawls, reaching out for what’s left of her glass of wine, fingers caressing the rim distractedly. “I’ve been talking while you pretended to listen. I gotta give it to you, though, you’re an impressive liar. I didn’t notice until halfway through the second course.”

Regulus splutters, heat creeping up his neck at an alarming pace. He isn’t sure of what’s more embarrassing, if having been found out or the fact that he hadn’t been doing it on purpose. If he’s going to get called out on something, he’d rather it be for something he’s done willingly, consequences be damned.

“You kept humming in all the right places, too” Marlene continues, smirk growing as she watches him squirm. “That’s definitely a skill.”

“It just takes a lot of practice,” Regulus explains in a murmur, grabbing his own glass and taking a long gulp. “I went to a lot of boring business parties with my parents when I was a teen. You end up learning a thing or two in order to survive.”

Marlene cocks her head slightly to the right. “I think this is the first time you’ve mentioned your family.”

“I don’t like talking about them,” he says, trying his best to sound casual.

“I’m guessing you’re not close?” Marlene presses, but her tone is light enough that Regulus doesn’t feel like he’s being forced. If he tells her to fuck off, he knows she’ll change her topic without question.

“I haven’t spoken to my parents in years.”

Marlene watches him in silence, as if trying to gauge his feelings regarding his lack of contact with his family. In the end, she gives him a small nod, her smile never faltering.

“Good for you,” Marlene tells him. It makes the corners of Regulus’ mouth twitch.

“Thanks.” He takes another sip of his drink before he starts cutting the first bite out of his slice of cake. Marlene got apple pie, while Regulus went for red velvet. “And sorry I’ve been so distracted during our date. It’s not that I’m not interested in the conversation, it’s just—”

Regulus leaves the sentence hanging, a furrow creasing between his eyebrows as he wracks his brain in search of a good enough explanation. He himself doesn’t even know why his mind has been wandering so much today, and considering he hadn’t been completely aware of how much he’s been neglecting Marlene, he has no idea of how to excuse his behaviour.

“James?” she ends up asking after it’s clear Regulus isn’t gonna continue any time soon.

Regulus leans back on his chair, mouth opening and closing a few times until he finally manages to produce sound. “What? What does James have to do with anything?”

“You tell me,” Marlene mutters around another bite of her cake. “You won’t stop stealing glances at his and Emma’s table.”

Regulus lets out a mix between a huff and a laugh and he even rolls his eyes for good measure. Unfortunately, his face feels like it’s on fire, so he doubts he manages to convince Marlene. Judging from the raised eyebrow and curl of her mouth, she isn’t buying any of Regulus’ bullshit.

“I think that’s going a bit too far,” he tries regardless, pulling slightly at the neck of his button-up. Regulus is so hot suddenly that he believes someone must have turned the AC off. “I’ve looked over there, like, twice.”

Marlene snorts. “I’ve been sat in front of you for nearly two hours, Reg. Who are you trying to fool? Your eyes only left their table when you had to take a bite of your food.”

Regulus curls into himself, sliding down in his chair to hopefully make himself smaller. It’s not an easy feat; he isn’t exactly short, but that doesn’t stop him. Marlene seems endlessly entertained, slowly but surely eating her dessert as she watches Regulus struggle.

“I didn’t—it wasn’t on purpose,” he protests weakly, using his fork to play around with his cake. He had already been pretty full, but whatever little was left of his appetite seems to have abandoned him.

“I sure hope so. Up until now I had assumed you were enjoying our date.”

“I was! I swear I was. Even though I don’t appreciate you telling Pandora about my issues with water—”

“Oh my god, fucking let it go—”

“I was having a lot of fun,” Regulus goes on, raising his voice enough to speak over Marlene, who squints her eyes at him. “But I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. And James—well, you know. We’re all worried about him.”

“Sure,” Marlene concedes with a move of her head. “Most of us have been focusing all of our efforts on Peter, though. Considering he’s the one who’s actually been cheated on.”

“Please,” Regulus scoffs. “He cheated first.”

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t hurt or upset. You’ve seen it yourself. He’s been a wreck all week.”

“James too,” he reminds her a bit pointedly. “And he hasn’t been getting coddled like Peter.”

“It’s fine, he has Emma,” Marlene murmurs, waving her hand around. “And you, I suppose.”

Regulus shifts in his seat, finally managing to try his cake. It’s so sweet his teeth ache, and a pleased hum makes its way past his mouth.

“Well, yeah,” Regulus says once he’s swallowed. “But it wouldn’t hurt, having more support from the rest of his friends.”

“I get where you’re coming from, Reg, I really do, but you can’t force anyone to care.”

“I’m pretty sure Kingsley, Frank, Peter and literally everyone in that goddamn house care about James.”

“Of course they do—”

“Then I don’t get why they wouldn’t—”

“They just have other priorities,” Marlene finishes, leaning forward and setting her elbows on the table. She’s staring at him quite intensely, and Regulus is having a hard time holding her gaze. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. They’re dealing with their own shit, too, so if they gotta put part of their energy on anyone, they’d rather put it in Peter. No offence, but it seems like he needs it a bit more.”

Regulus huffs loudly, grinning derisively. “That’s such bullshit—”

“Is it? Because you’re criticising the same thing you’ve been doing.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You’re mad at them for only looking after Peter, when it’s clear that you only care about James.”

“That’s not—”

“And why is that, I wonder,” Marlene hums, tapping against her chin thoughtfully. “Emma is interested in him, so no one can blame her for being so biassed. No one holds it against her, really. But you…”

“Marlene—” Regulus starts quietly, the inside of his mouth going dry.

“You’re friends with Peter too,” she comments, pretending she hasn’t heard him. “And you’re fonder of him than you are of, say, Frank. And yet, you don’t seem half as concerned as you are for James.”

“I am concerned,” Regulus argues, but it sounds weak even to his own ears.

“It couldn’t be because you’re also angry at Peter, like James. Sure, none of us think that cheating is okay, but he’s the only one who takes it personally. You don’t seem to care that much, especially if it doesn’t affect you. So why—”

“Marlene, please,” Regulus cuts her off, his voice barely a whisper.

She stops, pressing her lips tight as she surveys him. They’re both quiet for a moment, the air around them so heavy it threatens to crash them under its weight. But then Marlene grins widely at him, reaching out with one hand to pat him a bit too strongly on the side of his arm.

Regulus can’t help it. He jumps.

“What—”

“I’m fucking with you!” she exclaims with a cackle. “Man, you’re so easy to rile up.”

It takes Regulus a few seconds to catch up and properly process Marlene’s words, but when he does, he swats her arm away, his whole face twisting in fury.

“Fuck off!” he sneers, dropping both hands on his lap so Marlene won’t notice them shake. “That wasn’t fucking funny. This is too much, McKinnon, even for you. You’re such a fucking—”

“Okay, calm down, Black.” She rolls her eyes, way too unbothered for Regulus’ taste. “I wasn’t trying to start shit.”

“Oh, really? Because you have an interesting way of—”

“I just wanted to let you know that this is a free judgement zone. A safe space, if you will.”

Regulus falters, his brows furrowing as he blinks at her. “Okay? I don’t see how that—”

“My point is that I understand you.”

“You… understand me?”

Marlene raises both her eyebrows, giving him a very pointed look. “Yes, Regulus. I understand.”

“McKinnon, I have no idea of what you’re—” he sighs, rubbing at his temples.

“Regulus,” Marlene says very slowly. He looks at her, uncomprehending. “I need you to hear that I get it. Your… bond with James, I mean. Why you can’t help but worry about him the most. I get it.”

He continues to watch her in silence, his frown worsening by the second. Marlene isn’t even blinking, and she has this crazed glint in her eyes that’s starting to really freak Regulus out, when it finally clicks.

It fucking clicks. And Regulus’ jaw nearly drops to the floor.

“Oh,” he says eloquently. “Oh!”

Marlene lets out a delighted laugh. “Yeah.”

“You understand,” Regulus reiterates, trying to make sure.

“Yes, Reg, I really do.”

“Oh, that’s—why are you—how come that—”

“I doubt I can answer most of your questions,” she tells him with a sigh, one of her hands grazing the little wire that disappears under the neck of her shirt. The movement comes off as casual, almost accidental, but Regulus sees it for what it is: a warning. “And there’s no point, anyway. But I see why the type of friendship you’ve found with James is… rare.”

Regulus has to swallow down a hysterical laugh. “You’ve got no idea.”

Marlene smiles at him, and it’s teasing, sure, but there’s also something soft, maybe even a little tender, in the gesture.

“Believe me, I really do,” she says. Her grin widens, and then Marlene is reaching for her glass and tilting it towards Regulus. “For friendship?”

Regulus can’t hold it in anymore, the laughter bubbling up of him until he’s nearly doubling over. He doesn’t even know how, but he manages to grab his own drink, shoulders still shaking.

“For friendship,” he responds, giggling between words.

They clink their glasses and take a small sip before they both begin cackling, Marlene nearly choking on her wine, which only makes Regulus laugh even harder.

It’s stupid. It’s so fucking stupid. But it’s the most seen Regulus has felt since the show started, and it’s such a relief to have someone else who gets what he’s going through. Sure, he isn’t happy about Marlene finding out because of Regulus’ feelings for James, and he has so many questions he thinks he’s going to end up losing his mind before he gets the chance to ask them. But he’s too happy to care about anything that isn’t Marlene also being gay and the absurdity of it all.

“When we get out here, I need to introduce you to Dorcas,” Regulus tells her when his laughter finally dies down a little. He smirks. “I feel like you’d get along really well.”

The smile Marlene gives him is nothing short of delighted, and her eyes twinkle. “I’d like that.”

***

In retrospect, Regulus supposes that he should’ve seen it coming.

The atmosphere has been surprisingly tense these past few days. In a way, Regulus gets it, because they’ve already been here for nearly a month. Because sure, this place might look like paradise, the ideal vacation spot, but the truth is that it starts to feel like a prison after a while. All the stress, and the conflict, and even the guilt, have to start taking their toll at some point. So, it isn’t unexpected to see everyone quieter than usual.

It is, however, a bit shocking, to watch Frank snap at Kingsley. To watch Kinsley get upset over a teasing comment Regulus throws his way, to the point he gives him the cold shoulder the rest of the morning. To watch Peter fight with Emmeline during lunch, both of them leaving the table without finishing half their food, and to watch James flinch at every attempt at contact from Emma.

The signs have been all there, really. The storm had been brewing for days now, but Regulus had been too distracted, too busy caring for James, to notice. He doesn’t think he would’ve liked to prepare for it, exactly, but he would’ve preferred to make himself scarce. It’s a bit ironic, considering the only way his family knows how to communicate is through arguing, but Regulus isn’t a fan of conflict. It’s not even about bad memories or trauma, even though he’s sure a therapist would beg to differ. He just hates the kind of person he becomes when he feels like he’s in danger. When someone raises their voice, and corners him, and makes him feel small and defenceless.

Regulus knows he gets that from Sirius. He came into it a few years too late, not until after SSirius had been long gone and by then it hardly mattered, but he still blames his brother for it. It helped him get out of that house, that much is true, but it also turns him nasty and vicious during fights. Having been on the receiving end of that kind of cruelty most of his childhood, Regulus can’t help but feel a bit disgusted. At himself, at Sirius, and at that rotten family of theirs.

Things in the house seem to have calmed down a little now, even if Emmeline is nowhere to be seen and Peter is pouting on one corner of the sofa. No one has said anything in over half an hour, which definitely is not a good sign, but it’s not a reason for complaint, at least not for Regulus. In fact, he’s kind of relishing the peace and quiet, even if it’s hard to properly enjoy while Emma and James are sharing a loveseat. The exact same loveseat where he and James cuddled in a few nights ago, where Regulus had almost slipped up and kissed him right in front of everyone.

It’s dumb, and ridiculously childish, but it still stings. There’s only three loveseats in the living room and that one is the biggest and most comfortable, so Regulus can’t hardly fault them for picking it. Everyone goes for it whenever it’s available. And besides, it’s not as if that little moment they shared meant anything to James. Not in the way it did to Regulus.

He’s still helpless to the painful flip his heart gives inside his chest, though.

It does help to see them not touching, however. After one too many poorly hidden winces, Emma had given up in putting her hands anywhere near James. They’re still sitting close, barely a handful of centimetres between their bodies, but Regulus is grateful for the distance nonetheless.

Regulus does his best to focus on his book. He’s been stuck on this page for the last five minutes, but it’s kind of impossible to concentrate properly when his gaze keeps straying towards James and Emma, as if to make sure they’re still there and still decidedly apart. The way Marlene is reading over his shoulder occasionally and constantly touching his hair is also quite distracting. He’s told her off a couple of times already, but he hadn’t sounded irritated enough to get her to stop.

Since that little revelation during their last date, Regulus has been having a harder time getting mad at her. He was already very fond of Marlene, but after finding out they have more in common than he had assumed, Regulus feels closer to her in a way he’s unable to explain. But it means she gets away with a lot more shit, and she’s becoming way too good at pushing his buttons.

“Marls,” he grumbles under his breath, fingers twitching where they’re holding onto the novel.

“Reg,” she replies in the same tone, twirling one of Regulus’ curls gently before pulling teasingly at it.

Regulus clicks his tongue. “Stop it.”

“But I’m bored,” she protests petulantly. Honestly, she can be such a child.

“That’s not my problem. Go take a dip in the pool.”

“It was my original plan, but no one wants to come with. And it’s no fun doing it on my own.”

“Then go bother someone else.”

“But their reactions aren’t as entertaining as yours, Reg,” Marlene tells him, poking him playfully in the cheek. Regulus swats her hand away without looking away from his book, and he hears her snicker.

“Yeah, I guess this is on me for indulging you as much as I do,” he sighs as he turns the page. He barely made sense of what he read, but he’ll have to make do.

“You love me, really.”

“I tolerate you.”

“Same difference.”

Regulus rolls his eyes so hard his head tilts back, but he doesn’t argue, because he supposes Marlene does kind of have a point. Still, he refuses to agree with her out loud. She’s already insufferable enough as it is, Regulus isn’t about to make it worse.

“You’re not even reading,” she speaks up again after a beat, resting her chin on Regulus’ shoulder.

“Yes, I am,” Regulus murmurs, squinting his eyes at the page. Did he already read this paragraph?

“You stayed on the same page for over five minutes.”

“Because you kept distracted me—”

“Which means you’ve already lost your focus! I think it’s time to give up.”

“Fuck off, McKinnon. I wanted to finish this chapter—”

“You can finish tonight,” she whines too close to his ear, and Regulus winces. “Right now, I need you to entertain me. This boredom will kill me otherwise, Reg—”

“Good riddance,” he deadpans, suppressing a little smile at the gasp Marlene lets out.

“If I die, I hope you know I’m dragging you with me,” she threatens, sounding unexpectedly serious.

Regulus snorts with a shake of his head. “You can certainly try.”

“Don’t tempt me because I will—”

A sob interrupts whatever Marlene was going to say next. Both of them tense up—Regulus even startles a little, tilting his head to look at the woman hanging over his shoulder, wondering if the noise had come from her. But Marlene seems as shocked as he himself feels when their gazes meet, their eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

There’s a brief pause before another sob makes itself heard, and then another, and before they know it, it’s turned into full on crying. Regulus glances at the page number he’s currently at before he finally closes his book and cranes his neck in search of the origin of all that sobbing, Marlene following suit.

It doesn’t take them too long to find it.

Peter has his knees bent and pressed against his chest, and he’s hiding his face in the palms of his hands while his shoulders shake with the force of his sobs. Regulus guesses the first one came involuntarily, and that he had tried to hide it or pretend it hadn’t happened in the first place. But it’s difficult to stop once the dam breaks, and now Peter seems unable to.

Everyone in the room appears to have stopped what they were doing. They’re all frozen in their place, watching Peter with varying degrees of consternation. It’s like no one is sure of how to proceed, of how to process the sight in front of them. It shouldn’t be surprising, considering Peter is the most anxious of them all; if someone is going to have a full-on breakdown in front of everyone, then it’s bound to be him.

But he had been doing so well ever since he and Emmeline had kissed for the first time. Regulus has no idea of how it’s been going since then—he really doesn’t care—but they’ve been acting all lovey-dovey, almost like an actual couple, and he’s caught them making out a few more times these past few days.

He’d known that Peter wasn’t fine, not really. But he hadn’t expected him to come apart at the seams like this. Out of nowhere, with no build up or actual motive, forcing everyone to bear witness to it.

Regulus isn’t very keen on it, but the lack of reaction is starting to annoy him enough to spring him into action. He’s about to stand up and move towards Peter, when Frank moves first, getting up from his armchair and rushing to Peter’s side. He sits beside him and doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around his shoulders, patting him softly in the arm and murmuring something that Regulus doesn’t manage to catch from where he’s sitting.

Peter starts crying a bit harder after that, but he does lean against the other man’s body, letting himself be held.

This finally manages to pull everyone else out of their respective dazes, a flurry of motion as they all move to join him next to Peter. Most of the girls crouch down in front of him, although Lucinda slides next to Frank, reaching out to caress Peter’s hair, and Emma stays where she is, always so hesitant to leave James’ side. Still, she leans forward, her whole face twisting in concern while she watches Peter’s shaking figure.

Marlene gives Regulus a look, but he doesn’t manage to understand what she’s trying to tell him before she turns away so she can offer some support to Peter, too. She looks quite awkward about the whole thing, giving the blonde a pat on the back while she simply stands next to everyone else. But considering how uncomfortable Marlene is with any form of physical affection, it says enough, the fact that she’s trying to join in on the comfort.

Regulus sighs quietly, places his novel on the coffee table. He’s about to walk towards Peter and the others, when it finally dawns on him that James hasn’t even attempted to get up from the loveseat.

If it was anyone else, it’d make sense. James and Peter haven’t been on the best terms this week. They avoid each other like the plague and barely speak to one another unless it’s strictly necessary. James seems constantly mad at him even though he hasn’t tried to start any fights, and Peter walks on eggshells whenever James is in his near vicinity, as if he’s terrified at the mere prospect of disappointing him. Again.

But this is James Potter. Always kind, always understanding. He can never stay angry for long, not when it comes to his friends, and he’s always the bigger person in the room. He doesn’t have a petty bone in his body, and regardless of how he feels about Peter’s actions, he’s the kind of man who will be there for him if he ever genuinely needs it.

Except Peter is currently crying his eyes out, and James isn’t even looking at him.

Regulus eyes him warily. He’s still sitting on the loveseat, and he looks surprisingly relaxed despite all the drama currently happening. James’ gaze is fixed, unblinking, on his lap, however, which immediately makes alarms go off inside Regulus’ mind.

“Pete, hey, c’mon, mate, it’s okay,” Frank mumbles, squeezing the other man tighter as he rocks them back and forth. His face etched into a deep frown, eyes never leaving Peter’s frame. “You’re okay. Just let it all out. It’ll help.”

“I just—” Peter hiccups, muffled and barely making any sense. Regulus isn’t ashamed to admit that he slides a bit closer to try and listen better. Nevertheless, part of his attention remains on James. “It hurts so much. How could she—how could she do this to me?”

Frank presses his lips into a thin line, turning his head momentarily to exchange a worried glance with Lucinda, before his focus returns to the sobbing boy in his arms.

“I don’t know,” Frank sighs softly. Marlene gives Peter another pat, this one a little firmer.

Peter raises his head, and the sight is enough to break Regulus’ heart a little. His cheeks are tinted red and covered in tears, his eyes so swollen he can barely keep them open. He seems so hopeless, so thoroughly devastated, that even Regulus gets the urge to hug him, to reassure him, to promise him that everything’s going to be fine.

Regulus has been steadfastly on James’ side during his and Peter’s fight, because regardless of what he actually thinks of the situation, Regulus will always pick James over anyone else in the house. He’s biassed and embarrassingly smitten. He doesn’t care about who’s truly in the right.

Standing at James’ side is the only thing that matters, so putting some distance between him and Peter, as a show of solidarity, hasn’t felt particularly challenging.

But the truth is that Regulus likes Peter. He might be his favourite out of the men right after James, and up until this week, he had always enjoyed his company. He thinks he’s wicked funny, and genuinely nice, and probably the only person who has never actually bothered him. He respects Regulus’ space, while still making sure he knows he’s there if he’s ever needed.

Regulus’ stomach twists uncomfortably, and he realises, a little startled, that what he’s feeling right now is guilt.

“I love her so—so much,” Peter continues to say through his sobs, big, teary eyes gazing up at Frank. “I don’t get it! We were—we had been doing just fine, if she didn’t wanna marry she could’ve just—we could’ve talked about it. We could’ve fixed it—”

“I know, mate,” Frank tells him, his tone soothing. “I know you tried your best and that you only wanted to make her happy. But it’s—it’s done, yeah? She ruined it. And she doesn’t deserve—”

“No, I—” Peter interrupts, wiping away his nose with the back of his hand. Every time he seems to calm down slightly, another wave of sobs comes to reduce him to a stuttering mess. “I know she fucked up, we both did but I—maybe once we make it to the end and we see each other again—I think that I could forgive—”

“Don’t,” Frank stops him, his expression hardening. “We’ve been through this, Pete. What happened isn’t something you should forgive.”

“But I love her.”

“And I’m sure she loves you too, but it doesn’t change what she did. You have a very big heart, but she doesn’t—you can’t forgive her for this, Peter. You can’t go back to her.”

Unsurprisingly, Frank’s words only serve to make the blonde cry even harder, and Regulus winces as he watches Peter weep into Frank’s chest. A couple of the girls look about to tear up, and Lucinda slides impossibly closer to Frank just so she can sort of join their hug, giving Peter some extra comfort.

This whole scene has no business being this devastating, and Regulus really can’t believe he let his guard down enough to actually end up caring about these people.

“I haven’t even heard her side of the story!” Peter blabbers into Frank’s shirt, shaking his head. “Mary deserves the chance to explain herself—”

“And she’ll get it during the final Bonfire. You’ll hear her out, and I’m sure that talking about it will help you understand and give you some closure, but it doesn’t erase what she’s done. She can’t take it back, Pete.”

Peter sniffles loudly, a few hiccups rattling his frame while he does his best to get the crying under control once again.

“I just—I love her so much, Frank. If she asked me to give her another chance, I—” Peter pauses because of another hiccup, and Regulus considers if bringing Emmeline would help or just make matters worse. “How could I say no to that? She’s the love of my life.”

Something in Frank’s expression breaks at this, and for a moment, Regulus is convinced he’s going to start crying. He doesn’t think he’s seen the other man come close to it, not even once, and if Frank genuinely gives in, Regulus will run out of this fucking room.

It’s already torturous enough, watching Peter bawl his eyes out, especially now that Regulus has come to the realisation that he cares more than he had previously assumed. If Frank, level-headed and always-stronger-than-anyone Frank, ends up breaking down too… Regulus doesn’t think he’ll be able to continue feigning indifference.

“Pete—” Frank begins, his voice thin.

“I just don’t understand. She’s always been flirty, but it never means anything, and she’s never—never crossed any lines. We’ve had our issues, but not—not related to cheating.” Peter raises his head again, lower lip trembling dangerously as he meets Frank’s gaze. “I’ve never even been worried about something like that. Mary isn’t—she wouldn’t. She just wouldn’t.”

“But she did,” Frank replies, albeit not unkindly. Peter flinches almost immediately, as if he had been hit. “She did, Pete. And I know how much it hurts, how difficult it is to process it but you can’t—you can’t keep making excuses for her.”

“Yeah, dude, you need to hold onto your anger,” Kingsley pipes in from where he’s standing right behind the couch, leaning over the backrest so he can squeeze Peter’s shoulders. “Remember that conversation we had a couple of nights ago? When you were going off about Mary? That’s the kinda energy you gotta go for.”

“I know,” Peter murmurs, sounding devastatingly small. “But it’s so hard. Like, yeah, sometimes I’m so angry at her I can barely see straight, but most of the time… I just love her so much, guys.”

Frank exhales quietly before pulling him in once more, hugging him so tightly Regulus momentarily worries about a possible lack of oxygen. Kingsley does his best to join them, even if the position is more than a little awkward and he can’t properly reach. It’s the thought that counts, Regulus supposes, and he’s sure that Peter appreciates the effort regardless.

“We get it,” Frank says softly, Kingsley nodding his head furiously. “We really do. It just—it breaks us to see you like this.”

“Especially because of someone who doesn’t deserve your tears,” Kingsley adds, dropping a kiss on Peter’s hair.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbles, face still pressed into Frank’s shirt. “I didn’t mean to make a scene, it just—I got so overwhelmed all of a sudden. I think it’s also because me and Em are fighting. I couldn’t—fuck, I don’t know. It’s been so fucking hard.”

Frank hums in understanding.

“I trusted her,” Peter goes on, turning his head until only one of his cheeks is resting against Frank’s chest. “I really did. Even after the first couple of Bonfires, after seeing the kind of images I was getting, I still—I still believed in her. And yet—” He pauses, taking a shaky breath. “She just—She betrayed me. She actually fucking—”

“You cheated, too,” James says suddenly, his tone flat and eerily calm. Everyone in the room seems to freeze again, and Regulus turns his head to look at James slowly, his eyes wide and his lips pursed.

“What?” Peter asks in a murmur after a beat. He’s still leaning into Frank, staring straight ahead even though his eyes don’t appear to be focused on anywhere in particular.

“You heard me,” James replies with a shrug, so aloof it sends a chill down Regulus’ spine. He isn’t even watching Peter, fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest of the loveseat. As if he can’t be bothered. “You also fucking cheated, so I really don’t get why you’re so upset that Mary did the same thing.”

Regulus watches Frank and Kingsley exchange a glance by the corner of his eyes, and he can’t help but swallow thickly.

He really doesn’t like where this is going.

“So?” Peter grunts. He pushes his hands on Frank’s chest and pushes himself up until he’s sitting straight and turning his body enough to face James. “Does that mean I’m not allowed to be upset?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Someone lets out a tiny gasp, and for a very embarrassing moment, Regulus is sure it had been him. But then he catches sight of Charity, both eyebrows raised and the palms of her hands covering her mouth, and he assumes it must’ve been her.

Peter splutters, clearly taken aback by that response. Or, rather than the response, the person who’d uttered it.

“You fucked up,” James continues, glancing at his nails before his gaze finally settles on Peter. His eyes are so cold goosebumps break all over Regulus’ skin. “And now, instead of accepting it and dealing with the consequences, you’re choosing to play the victim. Sorry if I can’t find it in myself to feel any sympathy.”

Regulus gapes at James and barely represses the urge to rub at his eyes, unsure if what he’s hearing right now is actually real.

There’s no way James means any of this, right?

“Excuse me?” Peter murmurs, his voice going high pitched enough to make Regulus cringe. “I’m perfectly aware that I’ve done wrong too. But that doesn’t change that Mary is my girlfriend, and I love her, so of course I’m gonna—”

“Do you really?” James cuts him off, squinting his eyes.

“Do I what?”

“Love her?”

All colour seems to abandon Peter’s face, and he stares back at James as if he’s looking at a ghost. But James doesn’t even flinch, his expression blank and empty and awaiting a response. Regulus is half expecting Peter to break into tears once again.

“Of course I do,” Peter whispers.

“Well, you got a funny way of showing it,” James huffs out with a shake of his head.

“That’s not fair.”

“No? Oh, that’s funny.” James smiles slightly, but the gesture lacks any amusement, even bordering on cruel. Regulus wants to look away, but his body refuses to comply. “You know what isn’t fair? You spending the last few days making out with Emmeline every chance you get, and then having your little breakdown because Mary went and did the same thing with Fabian. Honestly, what did you expect?”

“She cheated before the Bonfire,” Peter argues weakly, blinking back tears. “She hadn’t seen anything yet.”

“So she cheated without reason, just like you did.” James shrugs with one shoulder. “It seems to me like you’re definitely a match made in heaven.”

“James, come on, you’re going too far,” Frank tells him, features twisted in a frown.

“I don’t think I am. I think I’ve been way too nice, actually.”

“This is a very complicated situation, you can’t just—”

“No, it’s not. It’s actually pretty straightforward. He’s been whining about getting cheated on and losing Mary, as if he hadn’t chosen to fuck up his relationship the moment he put his tongue down Emmeline’s throat.”

Peter lets out a wounded noise, a few more tears staining his cheeks, and Frank grits his teeth, glaring harshly at James, who remains completely unaffected.

“They both ruined it, they both cheated, and I’m tired of acting like Peter is a victim, or like I should feel the slightest bit sorry about what’s happened,” James states.

“You can’t seriously mean that,” Frank laughs, incredulous. “Peter’s supposed to be your friend—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. But I don’t associate myself with fucking cheaters.”

Kingsley pushes away from the couch, about to stalk towards James, but Amelia catches him by the arm before he can get very far. He tries to break himself free, but her grip is strong enough to resist all of his attempts.

James merely blinks at him, his expression bored.

“Okay, I think we all need to take a deep breath and—” Lucinda starts, looking around as if searching for some support.

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” Kingsley hisses, finger pointed menacingly in James’ general direction. He’s still trying to get rid of Amelia’s hold on him, but the moment he starts to get more aggressive, Charity rushes to give Amelia a hand. “Peter’s been there for you since the very beginning! He’s been an amazing friend, always willing to listen and comfort you whenever you were struggling. And this is how you fucking repay him?”

“I’m not gonna apologise for having morals,” James retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t stand with a friend who’s capable of being unfaithful to their partner, and it’s frankly appalling to see you act like it’s nothing—”

“That’s not what we’re doing here, James,” Frank says, and Regulus can only commend him for still doing his best to remain calm. “We’ve never said we agree with cheating. It’s obviously a horrible thing to do, but—”

“There aren’t any ‘buts’. There should never be any ‘buts’. That’s the fucking thing.”

“You have to understand the other side of the story—”

“I don’t have to understand shit. Peter cheated, end of the fucking story. I can’t—I won’t be friends with someone who’s capable of doing that to someone they claim to love.”

Regulus squirms in his seat only to discover that Marlene is staring straight at him. He meets her gaze questioningly and gives an immediate shake of his head when she makes a vague move of her head, pointing towards James.

Oh, he’s not touching that with a ten-foot pole. This time, he’s staying out of it. He won’t get involved under any circumstances.

This is a side of James Regulus hasn’t seen yet. And if he’s being honest, he isn’t sure if he likes it.

“I do love her!” Peter exclaims, voice breaking at the end. “You know I do! I’ve told you about us, about my feelings for her, how much I want to marry her—”

“Yes,” James agrees with ease. “And I believed you. I’d never expected you to be such a good liar.”

Kingsley struggles once again with a grunt, Amelia and Charity nearly losing their grip on him.

“Jem—” Emma begins quietly, the name barely a quiver as she slips past her mouth. She reaches out tentatively, arm settling delicately on his arm, but James shakes the touch off without even bothering to look at her.

Emma flinches before curling into herself, hurt shining in her eyes, and Regulus can’t even be happy about it.

“You’re being so cruel,” Peter whispers between tears, arms coming up to wrap around himself. “I thought we were friends.”

“I thought so too. But it turns out that you’re a cheater, and liar, and a despicable person—”

“Stop it, James, that’s enough,” Regulus blurts out, and he’s nearly as surprised as everyone seems to be at his intervention. His mouth had moved before his brain had the chance to process, and now it’s too fucking late to take it back.

Well. Apparently Regulus is going to be getting involved, because he has a death wish and no sense of self-preservation.

Great. Just great.

When James tilts his head to look at him, meeting his gaze head on, Regulus decides he might as well embrace his mistake. He straightens his back and raises his chin a little, refusing to back out, even if his first instinct as soon as James narrows his eyes at him is to run.

“I don’t remember you being a part of this conversation,” James tells him icily.

“Oh, believe me, I didn’t want to be,” Regulus snorts. “But you’re forcing my hand here.”

“That’s new. You always seem more than happy to stand aside and watch. It’s not like you care much about any of us, after all.”

James gives him half a grin, but the gesture is ugly, empty. Too sharp around the edges, almost like it’s meant to cut. Regulus has to take a deep breath to keep it from pressing deep enough to draw blood.

“I—” he begins, before having to pause, not liking the strain in his voice. “I care. You know I care. And what you’re doing right now—it isn’t okay. You need to stop.”

“And what am I doing, hm?” James asks with a tilt of his head.

“You’re being mean on purpose,” Regulus replies easily, relieved to hear himself sound so relaxed. “And I get it, I really do. It’s been a difficult week for all of us, we’re all upset and getting angry is unavoidable. You’ve been repressing a lot of shit—”

“This has nothing to do with my own issues,” James says a bit too sharply. “This is about doing something objectively shitty, and me not being able to stand for it.”

Regulus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No one is saying that cheating isn’t wrong, James—”

“Really? Because I’ve been getting a lot of mixed signals.”

“Look—”

“You’ve all been coddling him the whole fucking week. Agreeing with him whenever he cried over Mary, offering him support and comforting him every single time. Meanwhile, he and Emmeline have been acting like a couple, kissing every chance they get. Who knows, maybe they’ve already crossed every line—”

“I would never,” Peter says viciously, glaring at James.

“Why not? What difference would it make at this point?” James chuckles mirthlessly. “We all know you’re dying to fuck her.”

“Motherfucker—” Kingsley grunts, fighting to get his hands on James as Amelia and Charity struggle to keep him under control.

Even Frank goes all stiff, Lucinda putting a hand on his knee to stop him from standing up, leaning forward and whispering something in his ear that none of them manage to catch.

Regulus stares unblinkingly at James, fingers clenching and unclenching in his lap while a muscle ticks on the side of his jaw. There’s a beat, the air in the room becoming so thick it’s nearly unbearable to breathe in. And then, Regulus gets up from his seat, walking steadily towards James, who watches him in silence, his face giving nothing away.

He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of the other man, their legs a few centimetres away from touching. James looks back at him and arches an eyebrow.

“Okay,” Regulus says, very slowly. “This stops now. You wanna have it out? Fine, then let’s fucking have it out.”

“I don’t—” James begins with a shake of his head, a small furrow settling between his eyebrows.

“Cheating is bad,” Regulus continues, pretending he hasn’t heard the other man. “I know this, you know this, we all fucking know this. We’ve had countless conversations about it before, and we’ve all come to this show being aware that this is something we’re meant to avoid. Even when everything around us seems to be pushing us to just give in.”

James clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t try to interrupt once again. He waits, giving Regulus a chance to explain himself. Which, yes, is the bare minimum, but considering how he’s been behaving during this whole conversation Regulus isn’t about to take it for granted.

“But it’s happened, okay? It’s happened. Peter slipped up and fucked up, and there’s nothing we can do about it. And if I remember correctly, no one congratulated him afterwards. No one pretended it was okay. Frank scolded him during breakfast the next morning—”

“That doesn’t mean shit if he goes back to being his friend right after,” James mutters, his mouth curling. “It’s not—this isn’t something that can be fixed, or forgiven. I’m glad we all agree that what he did was wrong, but all the sympathy he’s gotten despite it all just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“He also got cheated on,” Regulus reminds him. “I don’t care if he did it first, which we still can’t be sure about, by the way, because the clips we see during the Bonfires don’t have a fucking timestamp on them. And I’m sorry, but any friend of mine who’s going through something like that deserves some understanding.”

“But he doesn’t,” James argues, running a hand through his mess of curls and pulling at the strands. “He shouldn’t even be feeling bad in the first place, because why is he crying over the exact same thing he did? Mary made out with Fabian, and he made out with Emmeline. They’re both horrible people, and that’s the end of it.”

Regulus scoffs. “Do you really believe that?”

“Believe what?”

“That cheating automatically makes you evil.”

“Yes,” James responds without missing a beat.

“Really?” Regulus presses, both eyebrows arched a bit sceptical.

“Really.”

He tilts his head as he surveys James, searching for any doubts or signs of hesitation. It’s not that he doesn’t think he's capable of making those kinds of assumptions, but with James—who’s so caring, and kind, and understanding, always ready to hear everyone out—it’s a bit difficult to process, that he’d be so close-minded when it comes to this.

Regulus thinks he’d be a lot more disappointed if he didn’t like James so much.

“Okay, what about every other good thing Peter has done, then?” Regulus counters, looking him up and down. “Does cheating erase all of that? Every time he’s cooked for us, every time he’s looked after someone who had gotten a bit too drunk, every time he listened to you rant when you were stressed, every time he asked me about my books? Does that mean nothing to you now?”

James blinks rapidly at him, his frown worsening by the second. “That’s not—”

“Because, to me, it seems that you’re basing a person’s worth on a single mistake. I’d think that someone who always preaches about seeing the goodness in everyone would believe in second chances.”

“Fuck off,” James snaps, standing up from the loveseat so fast it almost makes Regulus jump. Fortunately, he manages to keep his face under control, his eyes never leaving James’. “I never said that.”

“You implied it.” Regulus shrugs lazily. “You’re acting like Peter pretended to be someone he isn’t because he cheated. Like that makes him automatically a monster.”

“Someone who’s capable of deliberately hurting a loved one like that, and then continuing to do so with no remorse, is—”

“Who said anything about deliberate? I highly doubt Peter had been planning it or was waiting for the best moment to cheat on his girlfriend.”

“At this point, it wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest,” James scoffs. “I think we’re all conveniently forgetting about the fact that Peter didn’t do this once. He and Emmeline have been fooling around since it happened—”

“And I think you’re conveniently forgetting about all the breakdowns Peter has had in between,” Regulus retorts, speaking a bit louder than originally intended. “The mornings he was unable to get out of bed. All the times he’s gone to sleep without dinner. You know, every sign that indicates he hasn’t been in the best headspace—”

“That isn’t an excuse,” James snaps, and he’s starting to get a bit on Regulus’ face. “I don’t care that he’s been struggling. We all have! And we haven’t cheated on our partners to cope with it—”

“I’m not saying that! I’m not trying to excuse Peter’s actions!” Regulus throws his hands up in the air, shaking his head incredulously.

“Really? Because it sure looks like it—”

“I’m trying to make you understand that he has been feeling guilty. He’s been feeling remorseful, and conflicted—”

“Clearly not enough to stop—”

“It’s not that easy! This isn’t a black and white situation—”

“Except that it is!” James explodes, getting awfully close, to the point he and Regulus basically share the same air. “It fucking is! You people need to stop acting like there’s any form of nuance when it comes to cheating. It’s plain wrong! A decent person wouldn’t even consider it—”

“You’re not listening to me,” Regulus hisses, frustrated beyond belief. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten involved. Damn him and his big fucking mouth whenever James is in the picture. “I’m telling you that it isn’t always a conscious decision! Sometimes you do it without realising, until it’s too fucking late. Sometimes you let your feelings get the best of you—”

“I am listening, Regulus, but that’s not how cheating works. Not the kind that keeps happening. You can, maybe, have a little slip up one time. But after that, no one who genuinely cares about their partner would—”

“What about you, then?” Regulus questions coldly.

James opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, blinking at Regulus as he does a double take.

“What about me?” he mutters warily.

“Do you really think that none of the things you’ve done so far have bothered Lily? That you haven’t made the alarm go off?”

James presses his lips into a thin line, and Regulus watches the way his hands curl into fists at his sides.

“Regulus,” James says softly, a warning shining in his eyes. “Watch it.”

“No, I’m genuinely asking. With all the cuddling you do with Emma, and the dancing, and the stupid nicknames—”

“That’s different—”

“Is it?” Regulus cocks his head, taking a step forward. They’re basically toe to toe, and Regulus isn’t sure of what’s driving him more insane, if the lack of distance between their bodies or James’ attitude. “Can you be certain that Lily hasn’t been hurt by a single one of your actions?”

James is openly glaring at him, but Regulus doesn’t miss the way in which he swallows thickly. “She isn’t—our relationship isn’t like that. We’ve never been overly jealous. And we spoke about what was accepted and what wasn’t before we came here—”

“That can easily change when you’ve been isolated from each other for a month,” Regulus intervenes harshly, finding some satisfaction in the flash of pain he sees in James’ expression. “It’s so simple to affirm you’re okay with something and then realise you can’t take it when you actually experience it.”

“But that’s not—Lily wouldn’t—” James tries, tripping over his own words and sounding less and less confident by the second.

“You can’t be sure, though, can you?” Regulus pouts mockingly at him. “And I don’t think you’ve been thinking about your girlfriend nearly enough these past weeks, James. Doesn’t that make you a horrible person, too?”

“I haven’t cheated, though,” James retorts, puffing his chest out a little. But it sounds weak, defeated, and Regulus can barely suppress a scoff. “I haven’t gone that far, I haven’t—”

“Yet,” Regulus points out a bit cruelly. “You haven’t done it yet.”

That comment seems to reignite the fire in James’ gaze, because all of a sudden he’s grabbing Regulus by the collar of his shirt, pulling him in until their noses are pressed against each other, until he can hear James’ laboured breathing, can feel the warmth radiating from his entire body.

“Don’t you dare even suggest that I’d do something like that to Lily. That’s not the kind of person I am,” James hisses under his breath, enunciating every word like they’re a threat.

“I mean, you can’t know that. You also wholeheartedly believed that Peter wouldn’t cheat, except he did, so where do we go from here?”

“Obviously, I was wrong—”

“Maybe you’re wrong about yourself too. Maybe when an opportunity actually presents itself you won’t be able to resist.”

“Regulus, I mean it. Fucking watch it—”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Not even once in passing?” Regulus grins at him, but it’s more of a show of teeth than an actual smile. “I’m sure you’ve felt attracted to other people—”

“That’s never enough reason to cheat—” James barks out, fingers clenching where they’re still wrapped around Regulus’ shirt.

“Oh, but you don’t really need a reason, James. You just need to want it.”

“I don’t,” James states, tone determined, almost challenging.

“Really?” Regulus presses, looking at him from under his lashes.

“Really.”

“Well, I’m sure Peter also thought he didn’t, but look at where that got him.”

“I’m not like him. I wouldn’t. And I don’t get why you’re so set on taking his side and fucking antagonising me when you also know I wouldn’t.”

“We’ve been through this, James. Whatever assumptions or beliefs I have in relation to you don’t mean shit. You were wrong about Peter, and I could be wrong about you.”

“That’s different—”

“You keep saying that, but it’s not like you have any way to prove it. Mostly, because it’s not true. What about Frank? What about Kingsley?” Regulus’ eyes roam all over James’ face, the accusation clear. “What about me?”

James inhales sharply and attempts to take a step back, just for his hold on Regulus’ shirt to stop him at the last second.

“Don’t,” he mumbles with a desperate shake of his head. “You wouldn’t—you wouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Regulus gives a shrug.

“Because you’re good,” James says, and Regulus has no idea of who he’s trying to convince. “You’re good, and you love Dorcas—”

“I’d still love her if I cheated. It’d be wrong and fucked up but that wouldn’t take away the love I have for her.”

“But that—that doesn’t make any fucking sense—”

“People rarely do,” Regulus replies with ease.

James shakes his head again, more aggressively this time. “Stop trying to wind me up. I know I’m not in the wrong about this. You’re getting in my fucking head—”

“I’m just telling it like it is, James. It’s not my fault you’re too much of a coward to accept it.”

“I thought we were friends. I thought you cared about me—”

“We are. And I do. That’s why I’m doing this, I can’t just stand aside when you’re being an absolute asshole to someone who doesn’t deserve—”

“He does deserve it!” James roars. It takes a lot of effort for Regulus to keep his body from flinching. “If everyone keeps acting like he’s a goddamn saint or like he deserves anyone’s pity, I’m gonna lose my bloody mind—”

“God, how fucking stubborn can you be?” Regulus scoffs, feeling himself slipping closer and closer to giving into the urge to rip his hair out. “Does it only have to be one extreme or the other with you? Peter fucked up, yes, and he needs to owe up to his mistake and face the fucking consequences. But you gotta stop acting like he murdered someone. This isn’t some betrayal—”

“Well, it fucking feels like it—” James huffs out.

“It’s not even about you!” Regulus explodes, pressing his index finger to James’ chest, digging there until he watches the other man wince. “Peter wasn’t thinking about you when it happened, because you have nothing to do with it, or his relationship. You put him in a fucking pedestal and now you’re mad because he fell from it? Boo fucking hoo. He didn’t even ask to be put there in the first place.”

“Well, I’m sorry for expecting better of him! I’m sorry for thinking highly of a friend, of believing him to be good, and respectful, and all in all a decent fucking person—”

“What if I told you I wanted to fuck someone?”

James’ mouth closes loudly with a snap, and he blinks owlishly at Regulus. “What?” he asks, uncomprehending.

“What if I wanted to fuck someone in this house?” Regulus repeats with an arched eyebrow. “What if I’ve considered cheating on Dorcas before?”

James gulps, something that looks akin to fear seeming to take over his features. “You’re lying.”

“Would it make me evil in your eyes, too? Would you begin ignoring me? Put an end to our friendship without even trying to understand my side of things? How I feel?”

“Stop, Regulus,” James snarls, using his grip on his shirt to shake him a little. Despite his fury, he sounds like he’s begging. “Fucking stop. You’re lying—”

“But what if I’m not?” Regulus wonders innocently. “What if I really want to fuck someone here? What if I’m waiting for a chance to do something about it? For them to show me they want it, too?”

“Who?” James asks all of a sudden, his chest heaving.

Regulus had been expecting many responses, but that one definitely hadn’t been one of them.

“What?”

“Who?” James repeats, insistent and bordering on needy. “Who the fuck is it, Regulus?”

“What does that have to do with anything—”

“Who the fuck do you want so much to hurt Dorcas like this?”

Regulus blinks before he swallows the guilt that begins to accumulate at the back of his throat. He gets the urge to look away from James and his warm eyes, from the sincerity he can see glowing in them.

He doesn’t tend to feel too bad about lying about his relationship with Dorcas; Regulus probably won’t see these people again once the show is over. But the main reason why James got closer to him in the first place is because of the understanding he’d been seeking. Because he had taken one look at Regulus and his lack of interest in the tempters and assumed they were the same. Both utterly in love with their partners, finding themselves somewhere they didn’t truly belong.

Except it’s a lie. It’s always been a lie. Regulus leaned on it, because it made things easier, and because he’s a selfish bastard who would do anything to gain James’ favour. He’s never regretted it or felt too bad about it. He isn’t enough of a good person to care, not if it gets him what he wants in the end.

Now, though. Now Regulus senses the prick of remorse at the pit of his stomach, making him vaguely nauseous and filling him with dread.

“No one,” Regulus lies, cursing how strained his voice sounds. “No one, James, I didn’t—I was just trying to hurt you,” he admits, a bit ashamed.

James stares at him like he can’t recognise him, and it’s unbearable enough that Regulus shuts his eyes tightly for a moment giving into the urge to look away. He tries to take a breath, but it gets stuck in his chest.

“Oh,” James exhales, and something inside Regulus cracks.

“Listen, you were being a cunt and refusing to listen, and I was—you made me so fucking angry—”

James shakes his head. “It’s fine. You were right, after all.”

Regulus whips his head around so fast the back of his neck cramps, eyes widening comically as he stares at James, unsure if he’s heard right.

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses—”

“I was wrong about you,” James goes on, making Regulus’ blood run cold. “You’re fucking vile.”

“James—”

“Even just looking at you makes me fucking sick.”

Regulus feels the words land as if he’s been hit. He stumbles back and James allows it, his grip on him coming loose the second Regulus steps away from his space.

“You don’t mean that,” Regulus mutters, one of his hands coming to massage the centre of his chest.

“I want you far away from me,” James says slowly, no sort of inflection in his tone. It almost feels like he’s rehearsing lines, and the impersonality of it all, the indifference, only serves to make Regulus feel even worse. “Otherwise I don’t know what I might do.”

Regulus takes another staggering, involuntary step back, and for a second, he’s tempted to get on his knees, beg for James’ forgiveness, even though he doesn’t deserve it, and he never will.

“You don’t scare me,” is what he says instead, refusing to be vulnerable, refusing to let James himself see the effect he has on him. “If you wanna punch me, then fucking come and do it. Stop acting like such a fucking coward—”

James lunges with a growl, and Regulus braces for the impact, except it never comes, because Frank is there to hold him before he can’t get too far.

Regulus is almost disappointed. He’s convinced that getting his teeth knocked out would’ve helped to dull the pain he feels between his ribs.

James fights against Frank, kicking his legs and scratching at Frank’s arms, who grunts as he visibly struggles to contain the beast James seems to have turned into. Kingsley comes to help after a few seconds, and even Peter is there after the initial moment of hesitation.

Regulus watches with a mix of pity and fascination. He hadn’t known that James was capable of this type of anger, or that he mattered enough to provoke it.

It shouldn’t feel as satisfying as it does.

He hates how much they hurt each other, especially when it was because of something that had nothing to do with them, but Regulus stands by everything he said. He might feel regretful about the lying, and he might not be happy about having upset James like this because it hadn’t been his intention, but Regulus knows he was right.

Even if it means he loses James, he won’t apologise.

With a click of his tongue and one last glance at James, who hasn’t stopped shooting daggers at him for a second, Regulus turns around and begins making his way towards the stairs.

He makes sure to keep his trembling hands inside his pockets.

***

Regulus doesn’t go to that night’s party. Or the one they have the day after.

***

They can barely stand to be in the same room as each other.

When they all sit down on the table to have a meal, James always picks the spot that’s the farthest away from Regulus. He had been sitting right across from him these past few weeks, but he must’ve spoken to Lucinda about it, because he’s going for her usual seat now, letting Regulus deal with Lucinda’s apologetic smiles and the not-so-subtle glances she keeps throwing his way.

James is always the first one to finish his food, getting up quietly and ignoring Emma’s soft calls of his name.

Regulus always follows suit not too long after. The absence and the heavy silence James leaves in his wake always manage to make him lose his appetite.

He spends a lot of time in his room these days, Marlene being his only company, and only when he allows it. Regulus isn’t very fond of human interaction in general, and it’s even harder to be around people when he feels as shit as he does. Marlene is nothing if not stubborn, though, so she wears him down more often than not. He doesn’t understand why she’s so set on staying with him while he broods around in bed. It’s not like they talk, and Regulus is aware that Marlene isn’t very comfortable with silences. Not this kind.

Sometimes, when Regulus slips outside, doing his best to go unnoticed, he hears James laugh. He hears him having fun, talking to Frank, joking around with Kingsley, murmuring gently to Emma. Regulus thinks he even listens to him chatting with Peter, even if the few words he manages to catch all sound a bit clipped.

It fills his chest with warmth. It makes all the distance between them seem a lot more worth it.

Regulus doesn’t really miss dressing up nearly every night, or the aftertaste of alcohol in his tongue as soon as he opens his eyes. He doesn’t miss listening to stupid and empty conversations about girlfriends, or the tempters, and forcing himself to participate so no one suspects a thing. He doesn’t miss coming up with excuses to never join the games, or to leave early when the girls manage to drag him into one.

He does miss, however, bickering with Kingsley and watching his laughter get louder the meaner Regulus’ comments become. He misses giving Peter updates on the novel he’s reading, answering his every question even when he finds them completely nonsensical. He misses arguing with Frank about football, because he’s never met a man more into it, and that’s saying a lot. He misses hearing all the gossip from the girls, because they never seemed to mind his presence, even when he didn’t want to participate. He misses Lucinda’s sense of humour, Emmeline’s kindness, and Amelia’s jokes.

More than anything, though, he misses James.

***

“Just go and fucking talk to him!”

Regulus scoffs loudly, curling more into his spot on the couch. He knows he’s pouting a little, he’s been pouting nearly since he allowed Marlene to convince him to join the party, but he really can’t help it.

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, feeling like a child throwing a temper tantrum. He isn’t even enjoying himself, why the fuck did he listen to Marlene in the first place?

“Please, who are you trying to fool?” Marlene huffs out, and Regulus isn’t even looking at her face, but he knows she’s rolling her eyes. “You’ve been miserable since the fight.”

“That’s not true,” Regulus denies, trying not to cringe at how insincere it sounds. “I just haven’t been sleeping well. I get cranky when I’m tired.”

“You get cranky when someone breathes in your general direction,” she mutters, not quietly enough to go unheard. Regulus whips his head around to glare at her, but Marlene simply bats her lashes all innocently at him. “Listen, I’ve been dealing with your moping ass nearly the whole week, those silly excuses won’t work with me.”

“I’m not moping—” Regulus begins to protest, his pout worsening.

“Can you not argue for, like, two seconds? Genuine question,” Marlene cuts him off, going as far as raising her hand at him. It makes Regulus’ face twist into a scowl. “You’re fucking impossible, I swear.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“I’m literally trying to help you right now!”

Marlene throws her hands up in the air, her cheeks a little flushed, but then again, that might be more the alcohol than actual frustration. Regulus has watched her down at least four cocktails so far.

Not like he can judge. He drank straight from one of the whiskey bottles in the kitchen just so he could get the courage to show his face. It had tasted fucking vile, but it had done the job.

It also helped that no one had stared openly, or made him feel like a stranger. Kingsley, Amelia and Lucinda had even rushed to greet him, updating him on everything he’s missed these past few days.

Still, and as he watches Emma leaning against the wall, James towering over her while they speak quietly, faces a bit too close, Regulus is half tempted to run back to the kitchen and steal that whiskey for himself.

“There’s no point,” Regulus sighs, shaking his head slightly. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“You can’t seriously believe that,” Marlene says with a dark eyebrow raised. “He’s been acting like a kicked puppy since you pulled that disappearing act of yours.”

Regulus snorts, giving Marlene a pointed stare before returning his focus to James and Emma, who remain completely oblivious to the attention. Lost in their little world. It makes Regulus want to break something.

“He looks pretty fine to me,” he grumbles, pulling his knees up and wrapping both arms around them.

“Well, yeah, obviously, because you’re here. He can’t let you see how affected he really is.”

“As if he cares about what I think—”

“You and I both know he cares. Way too much, honestly. Stop being a coward and go talk to him.”

Regulus is seriously considering it. Whoever said that distance makes the heart grow fonder had been onto something, because he feels James’ absence like a lost limb, the ache practically physical at this point. It’s even a little hard to breathe properly sometimes, especially when James is so near but so far away at the same time.

He can’t stand it. Regulus thinks it might kill him if it goes on for longer than this.

But regardless of how painful not having James might be, it’s not bad enough for Regulus to give in. It isn’t even about not daring to approach the other man, try and have a civilised conversation. It’s about what said conversation would involve.

“I can’t,” Regulus tells Marlene softly, tasting bile on his tongue when James rests his hand on Emma’s waist.

“Why the fuck not?” she questions, not bothering to hide the irritation in her tone.

“I’d need to apologise,” Regulus explains, hugging his legs tighter.

Marlene scoffs. “Are you so proud that you aren’t even able to say sorry? You must feel a little guilty about what went down, at least.”

“Yes, I am so proud, but also yes, I do feel a little guilty. Very guilty, in fact.”

“That should be enough, then! Swallow that pride of yours and—”

“I told you, Marlene, I can’t.”

That manages to make her pause, and Regulus can feel the weight of her gaze on him.

“I was in the right,” Regulus chokes out after the silence stretches for too long. “If I go and apologise it’d mean—it’d mean that I believe I was wrong. It’d mean admitting defeat. And I just—I can’t do it, Marls, not about this. Please, stop asking me to.”

She takes a deep breath, and then she’s extending one of her arms, covering Regulus’ hands where they’re interlaced in front of his legs with her own. Marlene gives a clumsy squeeze before she withdraws, and Regulus sort of feels like crying.

He really should’ve brought that stupid whiskey with him.

“But this is making you miserable,” Marlene argues half-heartedly. Regulus can hear the surrender in her voice.

“I know,” he mumbles, incapable of looking away from James and Emma and every point of contact between their bodies. “I know.”

***

Regulus has a very bad feeling about tonight. Maybe because he’s come to know Marlene a little too well after all these weeks, and he knows firsthand how terrible all of her ideas are, even when they don’t look it at first glance.

They never end well, that’s for sure.

It’s kind of his fault, though. His fight with James left him feeling wrong-footed, and being so openly ignored by the other man has him losing his goddamn mind, so of course Regulus doesn’t have the strength to resist Marlene and her stupid plans. He had assumed that she’d let up after he had finally agreed to show his face at the last party, but clearly, it had only managed to make her more determined.

There isn’t another explanation as to why Regulus is sitting with the others in a circle in the middle of the living room, after having been roped into joining one of those incredibly disgusting and offensively disgusting games.

They’ve barely started and he already thinks he might be sick.

“Okay, it’s the first time Reg has decided to join us, so I feel like he should be the one to start,” Marlene declares with a tiny clap, her eyes shining with mischief. There are a few hums of agreement, as well as a couple of giggles, and Regulus makes a point of narrowing her eyes at Marlene.

He’s careful to not look at James, who’s sitting right opposite him in the circle, Emma’s head resting on his shoulder.

“Fuck off,” he says immediately, making both Marlene and Kingsley snort. “I don’t even know what to do. At least give me an example before you throw me to the wolves.”

“You’re so dramatic.” She rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, the corners of her mouth curling upwards. “Fine. Who wants to start, then?”

“Depends,” Amelia drawls, slightly leaning against Kingsley, who has an arm loosely wrapped around her waist. They’ve been looking very cosy since yesterday, more so than usual, and Regulus has already caught James frowning at them twice tonight. “Are we doing ice? Or chocolate?”

“There’s also the one with the shots,” Emmeline pipes in. She and Peter are sitting close together, their thighs touching, but they haven’t been overly affectionate.

Regulus knows they made up because Marlene told him, but he doesn’t have any details, and he has no idea if this behaviour comes from not wanting to upset James, or something else entirely. They really don’t seem to be having problems, but there’s a certain distance between them that definitely wasn’t there previous to James and Regulus’ argument.

“Oh, that one was fun,” Emma says with a bit of a smirk, not being very subtle about elbowing James on the side. He chuckles lowly, and Regulus forces himself to avert his gaze, his stomach twisting up in knots.

“We’re doing the ice tonight,” Marlene tells them, not leaving any room for arguments. Regulus has to stop himself from grimacing.

He’s watched enough seasons of Temptation Island to know exactly what game Marlene is referring to, and suffices to say he isn’t looking forward to it.

Everyone claps and cheers, and Regulus curls into himself almost unconsciously, trying his best to look small and go unnoticed. He’s aware that Marlene isn’t gonna let him go without participating at least once, but that won’t deter him from, hopefully, get the others to forget about his presence.

“Me and Frank can go first!” Lucinda exclaims, raising one of her hands while the other wraps around Frank’s upper arm excitedly.

“Whoa, who decided that?” Frank complains, but it sounds weak, and he’s unable to hide the smile he sends Lucinda’s way.

She winks cheekily at him. “Come on, don’t be such a pussy. It’s nothing we haven’t done before, anyway.”

The comment earns them a couple of whistles, and Frank rolls his eyes so hard his head tilts back. Regulus is helpless to the way his gaze slides towards James, who’s watching the scene with a serene face. Still, he notices a muscle spasming at the side of his jaw, and Regulus wants nothing but to be able to comfort him, remind him that he can lean on him.

Except he’s lost that privilege for the time being, maybe forever. Regulus can only watch yearn. Like a fucking loser.

“Yeah, but you became more of a menace each time,” Frank huffs out, tone filled with so much fondness it drags a soft chuckle out of Lucinda.

“Stop whining and take your shirt off!”

There’s more cheering and very loud whooping, which nearly makes Regulus cover his ears with his hands. This time, however, he sort of understands the excitement, because he’s seen Frank shirtless whenever he takes a dip in the pool. He might be gone on James, but he isn’t blind.

Frank lets out a long-suffering sigh but he complies without hesitation, although he doesn’t completely take the shirt off. He simply unbuttons it, laughing a little when Kingsley whistles obnoxiously as soon as his torso is fully on display.

Marlene gets up and rushes to the kitchen in the meanwhile, and by the time everyone has calmed down a little, she’s back with a small bucket full of ice. She drops it in the middle of the circle, and Lucinda reaches out for one, putting it between her lips before she crawls towards Frank, settling comfortably in the space his open legs leave.

Regulus has to make an effort to keep his face under check, already feeling his nose itch with the need to wrinkle.

It’s not like they’re doing anything that scandalous; Regulus has seen a lot worse while watching over the years with Dorcas. But that doesn’t mean this isn’t uncomfortable to see in real time, making him feel almost like he’s some sort of unwilling voyeur.

He doesn’t know how the rest of them can stand it or even laugh it off. Especially James, who had been so adamant about joining the games during the first couple of weeks. Regulus is aware that Emma managed to convince him to at least be present not that long ago, but he can’t comprehend what she said to get him to agree.

If Regulus is feeling a bit uneasy, James practically looks like he’s in pain.

“Do your worst,” Frank tells Lucinda with a grin, leaning back a little until he’s resting all his weight on his elbows.

She arches an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t reply, her mouth busy holding the ice. She bats her lashes at him a couple of times before she leans down until she’s eye level with Frank’s naked belly.

Lucinda stops for a beat, as if giving Frank a moment to prepare, before she presses the ice into his skin, smiling around it when he lets out a hiss. Still, he manages to stay still, and after a handful of seconds, he seems to accommodate the cold, the tension leaving his shoulders.

She drags the ice upwards slow and teasing, goosebumps breaking all over Frank’s skin as the rest of the people in the circle clap and yell in excitement. Regulus cringes a few times, and he isn’t sure if it’s due to the noise or the sight in front of him.

Lucinda takes her time sliding the ice cube over Frank’s ribs and between his pecs, making his breath hitch when she grazes a nipple. Her shoulders shake in silent laughter, and Frank looks like he’s holding his breath, a ridiculous smile still fixed on his face.

It probably doesn’t go on for more than a minute, but to Regulus it feels like a fucking eternity. By the time Lucinda moves up Frank’s neck, offering him the ice cube with a raised eyebrow and letting out a giggle when he takes it with his own mouth, barely avoiding her lips, Regulus cheers alongside everyone else. Sure, the action comes out a bit sarcastic, but he’s genuinely happy about that whole thing being over.

As if he’s not going to have to witness it again a few more times.

“Was that a good enough example?” Marlene asks him, wiggling her eyebrows, and Regulus groans, kicking her lightly on the shin.

Of course, that only gets her to cackle loudly, and it isn’t long before she’s urging him to do it with her, Regulus not being able to hide the distaste in his expression.

“Do I really have to?” he wonders, even as he shifts in his seat, trying to accommodate Marlene to the best of his ability. She isn’t as tall as him, but it’s a close thing.

“Yes, you do,” Marlene replies swiftly, grabbing one of the ice cubes blindly, her eyes never leaving Regulus. “What’s the point in joining us if you’re not gonna participate?”

“I’m more than content just watching,” Regulus retorts.

“Never pegged you for the type to be into that, Reg,” Kingsley teases, a few laughs following the comment.

Regulus gives him the middle finger without bothering to spare him a glance. “Fuck off,” he grumbles. Kinglsey’s only answer is a snicker.

Marlene pushes Regulus leg’s open, passing the ice cube from one hand to the other while she stares at him expectantly.

He clicks his tongue, averting his gaze momentarily. It’s not like he has any other option, anyway. He knew what he was getting himself into when he finally gave in to Marlene’s pestering.

“Fine,” he concedes, albeit reluctantly. “But I’m not getting shirtless. You can do it with my arm, and that’s it.”

Everyone boos him even before he’s finished talking, and Marlene doesn’t hesitate to join them. “You’re so boring,” she says with a little sigh and a disappointed shake of her head. “But I guess I should be thankful you’re even entertaining this in the first place.”

“Yes, you fucking should,” he snaps, taking his button-up off but keeping the tank top he’s wearing underneath on. He extends his right arm, features twisted into a grimace. “Let’s get this over with.”

Marlene rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, but she listens, putting the ice cube between her teeth while she grabs Regulus by the wrist, forcefully twisting his arm into a more convenient position.

It ends up not being as terrible as Regulus had expected, but it’s mostly because Marlene takes pity on him and doesn’t drag it out. The cold of the ice makes him flinch, but she’s gripping him hard enough that Regulus is unable to escape. Once he gets used to it, though, the sensation is kinda pleasing, Marlene dragging the ice cube from the tip of his index finger to where Regulus’ neck meets his shoulder.

She draws one, two, three circles there, laughing when she makes him squirm, before finally sliding up his cheek until she’s presenting him with the ice cube. Regulus narrows his eyes at her, and when she tilts her head forward, her intentions clear, he turns his head away, letting the ice cube fall onto his lap.

Marlene scoffs, but it ends up turning into a cackle. It releases any tension in the air, encouraging some of the others to laugh along, even if Regulus also hears some booing he suspects comes from either Kingsley or Emma. Still, it drags half a smile out of him.

Kingsley and Amelia go right after them, and it’s a lot less suggestive than Regulus had assumed it’d be, mostly because Kingsley can’t take anything seriously to save his life. Amelia ends up laughing so hard she drops the ice cube before she’s even made it to Kingsley’s chest, shoulders shaking as she collapses on top of him.

Then it’s Peter’s and Emmeline’s turn, who also keep it appropriate, even though the tension is palpable. Regulus can tell they’re both holding back, and he ends up having to avert his eyes. He really is curious about what might’ve prompted this sudden turn in behaviour, but it’s not like he can ask them directly.

He decides he’ll interrogate a couple of the girls tomorrow. If he’s subtle enough about it, he thinks he’ll manage to get a thing or two out of them about it.

After that, Lucinda proposes they do it the other way around, to which everyone agrees nearly immediately, but not before they take a little break to grab some more drinks. Regulus is supposed to be responsible and stick to water, but dealing with this stupid game is more than enough reason to indulge, so he ends up getting a cocktail.

Marlene gives him a pointed look when she sees the colourful liquid on his glass. Regulus simply shrugs in response. It appears to be enough of an explanation to her, though, because she nods before walking back to the living room.

Once they’re settled back in the circle, Regulus starts brainstorming excuses to leave and return to the safety of his room. He did his part, after all. He joined the game, participated in it, and even stayed to watch the others play. Regulus thinks that’s more than enough for one night, and if Marlene disagrees, well, she can suck it up.

He’s clearing his throat, ready to deal with all the protests he knows are about to come his way, when Marlene shifts until she’s sitting with her weight on one hand, stretching out her free arm and pointing her drink at James.

“You,” she declares before taking a sip of her orange cocktail, mouth curling around the rim of the glass. “You’re next.”

James, who had been mid-conversation with Frank, blinks at her a couple of times before he chuckles softly, shaking his head. He raises both his hands a second later in mock surrender, holding onto his bottle of beer with just a couple of fingers.

“Sorry, Marls, but I’m not playing,” he tells her, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I tried it a few days ago, and it was too much. It felt too… disrespectful. Definitely not for me.”

“It’s fine, Jem,” Emma rushes to say, rubbing the side of his arm. “It’s enough to have you with us.” She turns to face Marlene right after. “He’s only here to keep me company.”

James smiles openly at her, and Regulus must imagine it, but he swears that James’ eyes strayed towards him for a moment there. “Of course.”

She positively beams at him, a flower tilted to the sun. Regulus shifts slightly in place, gaze suddenly falling onto his lap. He isn’t sure of what his face must be doing right now, but he hopes it’s not too telling.

“But that has a very easy fix,” Marlene comments, and she sounds too casual for Regulus’ tastes. He steals a glance at her, but she’s staring at James. “You could play with one of the guys instead. You’re all mates, so it doesn’t count, right?”

Emma perks up a little at that, arching both eyebrows as she looks up at James with hope shining in her eyes. Kingsley laughs loudly, nodding furiously, while Frank and Peter’s gazes meet, both their mouths curved into a playful grin.

James himself doesn’t seem very against the idea. In fact, the longer he thinks it over, the more tempted he appears to be.

Not like Regulus is paying much attention. He’s too busy shooting daggers at Marlene’s side profile.

“I guess that could work,” James concedes in the end, looking the most relaxed Regulus has seen him all night. Still, there’s a couple of wrinkles covering his forehead, a certain pinch to the corner of his mouth. “Who did you have in mind?”

“I’m kind enough to let you pick yourself,” Marlene answers with a shrug. “I know you aren’t a big fan of the games in general, so I wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

Emma throws Marlene a grateful glance, and she acknowledges it with a light tilt of her head.

Regulus swallows back a sigh. He isn’t happy about having to postpone his exit, but at least he isn’t going to be forced to watch Emma invade James’ space while they play around with a fucking ice cube. It doesn’t mean it’s going to be fun to see him with one of the others, either; even though he’s aware that James doesn’t like men, it’s still enough to light up the spark of jealousy in the pit of Regulus’ stomach.

But when he finally dares to raise his head, he finds James staring straight at him, his face unreadable.

Regulus blinks rapidly at him, and part of him is kind of expecting the other man to avert his gaze, pick Frank and get it over with. But James continues to watch, gaze steady, and Regulus is this close to pinching himself.

“Uh,” James starts, squirming a little. He forces a chuckle, and it comes out strained. “Reg, if it’s okay with you—”

“Yeah,” Regulus replies a bit too quickly. “Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”

He doesn’t understand why James would still think of him as the safest, most comfortable option, considering how angry they had been at each other a few days ago and the fact that he’s been ignoring his existence since then. But Regulus isn’t stupid enough to pass up an opportunity like this one. This might be the best chance he’s ever going to get to being close to James like that. And if nothing else, this could be what finally puts an end to this painful cold war they have going on.

“You sure?” James questions quietly, even as his hands come to the buttons of his shirt, undoing the first one and then stopping at the second while he waits for Regulus’ reply.

“Very sure,” Regulus says, satisfied with how level his tone sounds.

James gives a tiny nod, his hands resuming the unbuttoning. “Okay. Go for it.”

There’s a beat, and then everyone is cheering, Kingsley and Lucinda louder than everyone else. It makes James shake his head, but the way his lips curl upwards gives him away.

Regulus huffs, but the corners of his mouth twitch while he leans forward and grabs one of the ice cubes from the bucket. He makes sure to pick a big one, hoping it’ll be easier to keep a hold on and that’ll last enough for the game to run its course.

It’s freezing against his palm, somehow feeling even worse than when he and Marlene played together. Maybe because of the warmth blooming under his skin, slowly but surely spreading to his entire body.

When his focus returns to James, he discovers the other man is already shirtless, his legs open wide and the palm of his hands resting a bit behind him on the floor, supporting most of his weight. He nods encouragingly at him, but Regulus still hesitates for a second.

He can see a certain tension hanging over James’ shoulders. He isn’t sure if it’s because of the game, or because he’s still mad about their fight. About what Regulus did, and every hurtful thing he said, and Regulus gulps, not knowing what option makes him feel the most nauseous.

There’s a shaky inhale, and then Regulus finally begins to approach, his moves careful but still determined. This is just a stupid game. It doesn’t mean absolutely anything, and he should just be happy that despite everything that’s happened, James still chose him to be his partner in it. Regulus has to focus on that and on mending his friendship and stop his baser instincts from taking over.

James doesn’t want this. James doesn’t want him.

He stops right between James’ legs, cocking his head to the right while he considers the best way to proceed. Regulus tries to come up with an easy course of action, one that requires the least amount of physical contact, but his brain seems to be having some trouble focusing. This is the closest he’s ever been to James in way too fucking long, and that lovely sandalwood scent mixed with the smell of sweat is making him dizzy.

Regulus is about to put the ice cube in his mouth, deciding to just go in and hope for the best, when he feels a touch on his hip.

He startles and glances down, seeing James’ hand hovering over his waist, as if waiting for permission. Regulus gapes for a few seconds, raising his head to meet James’ head. He’s unable to provide any form of answer, really, but whatever expression he’s wearing must be the equivalent of a green light because a moment later James is wrapping his fingers around his waist and pulling him in.

Regulus stumbles into his chest, managing to not drop the ice cube in the process, some of it already starting to melt and making cold water drip down his wrist. It distracts him briefly, but as soon as he realises he’s basically straddling James’ lap, he turns beet red.

He’s about to begin apologising and move away when James speaks.

“Easier this way,” he explains in a whisper, and Regulus wants to laugh because no, this just makes things so much harder.

Someone whistles and there’s some more cheering, but it reaches Regulus all muffled. He doesn’t have it in himself to focus on anything that isn’t James: his warm hazel eyes, and his palm pressed into Regulus’ waist, the feel of his skin under Regulus’ hand.

It takes him a beat, his face still feeling like it’s on fucking fire, but Regulus gets his arm to obey, pushing the ice cube between his teeth. The cold helps clear his head a little, but not enough for Regulus to stop feeling like he’s underwater, barely any air getting into his lungs.

James watches him intensely, a heat in his gaze that makes Regulus simultaneously want to hide and lean in until there’s no place their bodies aren’t touching. Taking a deep breath, he meets the other man’s eyes head-on and lowers himself until his lips are centimetres away from James’ navel.

Regulus blinks one, two times, and then he closes the gap.

The first brush of ice against skin drags a gasp out of James, and Regulus stares, fascinated, at the way his belly contracts before it relaxes once again. Regulus wants to make it happen again.

Still, he focuses on the task at hand, refusing to get derailed or drag this out. Even if part of him wishes this moment would never end.

He slides the ice cube slowly but surely up James’ sternum and then swerves to skim along his ribs. Regulus feels James’ chest heave when he makes it to his chest, and unable to resist the urge, takes a detour, dragging the ice towards one of James’ pecs and circling his nipple briefly.

Regulus doesn’t allow himself to linger, but James turns out to be more sensitive than expected, because he lets out a little noise, and his hips buck from under Regulus.

It’s subtle enough to hopefully not be noticed by their audience, but Regulus definitely feels it, feels the blood starting to rush south as he takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes briefly while he forces his body to not react. Not like this, not now.

He pushes forward, sending ugly thought after ugly thought to his brain in an attempt to cool it down. It doesn’t do much, not when Regulus is drowning in James, but it’s the best he can do considering the circumstances.

Before he realises it, Regulus is already climbing up James’ neck, sliding the ice cube over the side of his jaw and then pressing it against the corner of his mouth. He pulls always slightly, giving James some space to take the ice from him, but feels all the air knock out of him when their eyes meet.

James’ pupils are eating his irises, to the point his gaze is just a pool of black. He’s watching Regulus from under his lashes, and there’s a flush in his cheeks, beads of sweat gathering at his temples. All his attention seems to be on Regulus’ lips, and he swallows thickly, waiting for James to react.

It takes what feels like an eternity, but he finally does, leaning forward slowly as he parts his mouth, ready to steal the ice cube from Regulus.

He stays completely still, allowing James to do all the work, trying to reassure himself with the fact that this is almost over. It’s not like Regulus will be able to forget it any time soon, but it’ll definitely get easier to process once he’s not sitting on James’ fucking lap.

But because the universe fucking hates him, when James’ teeth finally wrap around the ice cube, his lips graze Regulus’, sending a electric shock down his spine.

Regulus staggers back, falling off James’ lap. He scrambles to his feet a second later, a ringing in his ears blocking all of the noise out. He thinks people are yelling and laughing, maybe even clapping, but he can’t understand anything they’re saying.

He looks down at James, who’s blinking all disoriented, the ice cube trapped between his lips. He’s blushing and watching Regulus in absolute awe, almost like he’s seeing for the first time. His gaze remains dark, heated, magmatic. Regulus trembles under its intensity, but there’s also a spark there, an almost manic glow.

“I’m—” Regulus croaks out, his mind a tangled mess, the inside of his mouth painfully dry. “I’m leaving. Going to bed.”

He has no idea if anyone hears him or responds to his comment, but he’s rushing out of the circle as soon as the words slip past his lips. Regulus doesn’t dare look back, hands resting on the walls as he walks because his knees feel weak enough to give in under him the moment he lowers his guard.

Regulus climbs the stairs two at a time, nearly out of breath by the time he makes it to the top. Still, he doesn’t pause to recover, refusing to stop until he’s inside his room and the door firmly locked behind him.

By the time his bedroom door comes into sight, he’s panting and feeling like he’s seconds away from passing out. Weirdly enough, he doesn’t think it has anything to do with all the running.

A relieved sigh leaves his mouth as he reaches out, fingers ready to wrap around the door handle, when something stops him.

Or rather, someone.

“Regulus,” James gasps from behind him, sounding just as winded as Regulus feels. His whole body freezes up, hand just a hair’s breadth away from the handle. “Wait, Regulus, please, just—just wait.”

His lips part, but not a single sound comes out. His body doesn’t seem to be responding to him either, considering the door remains closed and his hand frozen midair. Regulus doesn’t dare turn around, doesn’t dare face James and whatever it is that happened downstairs.

He manages to shake his head, his back to James and his fingers twitching with the need to grip something.

“Regulus,” James calls him again, an edge to his voice. “Can we—can you—” He makes a frustrated noise that resembles a groan. “We need to talk.”

Regulus shakes his head again, more desperate this time, and gaining speed with every move. His neck is beginning to cramp but he just can’t seem to stop. He’s fucking panicking, and his limbs aren’t cooperating, and now he’s backed into a corner, and doesn’t know what to do, how to get out of this situation.

There’s no more hiding. No more pretending. Regulus shouldn’t have agreed to playing that stupid game, not when his feelings for James are this strong, not when he’s been wanting him since day fucking one. Really, how could he be such an idiot?

James probably knows now. There’s no way he hasn’t realised after what Regulus just pulled. He couldn’t have been more obvious, honestly. He wouldn’t be surprised if every single person in that room had noticed how much he had been gagging for it. He had been half hard in his pants, for fuck’s sake, and James surely noticed, with Regulus perched on his bloody lap, and all—”

“Can you look at me,” the other man asks, insistent, more like a demand, and Regulus’ breath stutters in his chest. “Please,” he adds as an afterthought, tone turning momentarily gentle.

His brain screams at him to open the fucking door and escape, put an end to this before it has the chance to become even worse. And yet, the only thing Regulus does is turn around, his body robotically stiff.

He isn’t prepared for the image that greets him.

James is panting, a blush still very present in his face. It’s obvious he ran after Regulus, because his shirt is open and haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and his hair looks like more of a mess than usual, as if he’s been running his hand through it obsessively. His eyes are wide and bright, and there’s a nearly crazy quality to them that has alarms going off inside Regulus’ head.

What catches his attention the most, though, it’s the bulge in his pants.

Regulus makes a point to not stare at it, forcing his eyes to remain on James’ face. It proves to be quite difficult, his gaze constantly straying as an unbearable heat climbs up his neck.

“Can I—” Regulus starts, having to stop almost immediately because of how hoarse he sounds. He clears his throat a bit pathetically before continuing. “Can I help you?”

James stares at him, clearly in disbelief, before he lets out a chuckle that lacks amusement.

“I thought you could,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Now I’m not so sure.”

“James—”

“What the fuck was that?”

Regulus’ hands twitch at his sides, fingers finding refuge in the hem of his tank top, pulling at it every few seconds.

“Just a—a game,” he responds, voice shaking slightly at the end. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I didn’t—”

“Stop, stop it, Regulus,” James cuts him off, his hand coming up to pull at his hair. “We both know that wasn’t just a game.”

Regulus shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Listen, I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind here, so I’m gonna need you to be honest with me or just not say anything at all.”

Regulus flinches, biting the inside of his cheek so hard it stings, the bitter taste of blood starting to fill his mouth.

“What do you want from me, James?” he inquires softly. “Seriously. Because you keep—you’re driving me insane, and I’m—”

“I’m driving you insane?” James laughs mirthlessly, fingers slipping under his glasses and rubbing furiously at his eyes. “Look at the state of me, Regulus. Look at what you do to me.”

He doesn’t think James intended it that way, but his words still feel like a kick to the gut, nearly managing to make Regulus double over. One of his hands comes to rest at his stomach, nails digging into the cotton of his top.

“I’m not doing anything,” Regulus argues, trying to summon some of his frustration. It turns out to be quite hard when he’s still so very aware of James’ erection. “All this time, I’ve been doing my best to help. To keep you happy. I’ve even been keeping my distance even though it was fucking killing me.”

“I never asked you to do that,” James protests, and it’s almost enough to drag a laugh out of Regulus.

“Except you did. You said you wanted me far away from you. That’s what you fucking said.”

James rolls his lower lip between his teeth, a furrow settling between his eyebrows while he momentarily averts his gaze. “I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking. I was angry, and upset, but I never—I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How was I supposed to know? Huh? I’m not a fucking mind reader—”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I should’ve said something afterwards—”

“And then you kept ignoring me, acting like just being in the same room with me was fucking unbearable—”

“I’m sorry for that, too, and I’m aware it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot, and I thought you hated me—”

“And now you pick me for that stupid game and I—I—” Regulus is on a roll now, barely breathing in between sentences, stumbling all over his words and letting them out before his brain can even catch up to what he’s saying. “What am I supposed to think? What the fuck are we doing, James? You keep giving me these mixed signals—”

“Wait, what mixed signals—”

“You don’t even want me! You need to stop fucking with my head, it’s not fair, and I—I can’t do it anymore, I swear I’m gonna—”

“Regulus,” James interrupts him sharply, tone strained.

“—scream, James, that’s how fucking crazy you’re making me. I’m aware that you don’t do it on purpose, but I’m telling you now, so you have to—around me—you have to start being more careful—”

“Regulus—”

“Because it’s breaking my heart. You are breaking my heart. And I know it’s also my fault, I should’ve stopped it when I still could, but I just—I couldn’t, and you’re just so—so—”

“Regulus,” James snaps harshly enough to get him to finally shut up. Regulus waits, breathing heavily, heart beating in his ears and cheeks so warm he fears he might begin melting. James inhales slowly, and then exhales, before he takes a step towards Regulus. And then another. And then another. “Regulus, you’ve got it all wrong.”

Regulus blinks once. “What?”

It doesn’t take long until Jaames is standing right in front of him, way too little distance between them if Regulus wants to try and keep a cool head during the remainder of this conversation.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t move back. Mostly, because there’s a closed door right behind him, so he’s currently kind of trapped.

“Do you really think,” James says, enunciating every word carefully as he reaches out for Regulus, fingers wrapping firmly around his wrist. He pulls at his arm, and Regulus goes willing, at least until his hand comes into contact with James’ hard cock. A very undignified noise slips past Regulus’ lips, eyebrows shooting up while his whole body tenses, “that I don’t want you?”

“James,” Regulus squeaks out, flustered and incredulous and turned on, and holy shit, he’s big—

“You have no fucking idea of what you do to me, Regulus. Shit, I don’t even understand it myself.”

“James—”

“You know what my first thought was when I had you on my lap, that goddamn ice cube between your lips?” James’ question sounds genuine, but Regulus doesn’t trust his voice, so he simply shakes his head. “That I was going to die if I didn’t get to kiss you.”

“Please.” The word escapes Regulus’ mouth without his permission, needy and breathy, but the brief embarrassment is worth it if only for the crooked grin it pulls out of James.

“I came here to apologise, you know. I thought you had noticed how hard I was under you and it had freaked you out.”

Regulus squeezes James’ erection through his pants absentmindedly, and the other man lets out a hiss.

He manages a shake of his head. “I thought you were the one who had noticed I was hard. I got so scared, because I assumed you knew everything,” Regulus explains in a whisper.

“And what’s everything?” James hums, his free hand coming around Regulus’ waist until it presses into the small of his back, making the little distance between their bodies disappear.

“That I’m ridiculously obsessed with you,” Regulus admits, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He can’t believe this is actually happening. He has to be fucking dreaming. “That I want to be with you all the time. That I want you to touch me, kiss me.”

James is watching him like in a trance, eyes half- lidded and fixed on his mouth, following the movement of his tongue with interest when Regulus wets his lips.

He tilts his head up and leans closer, until his noses are touching, until he can feel James’ exhales against his skin.

“That I want you to fuck me,” Regulus whispers, allowing his mouth to graze James’ like it had done during the game.

Barely a second later, James is capturing his lips with his own.

Regulus immediately moans into the kiss, because he’s been waiting for it, craving it with a hunger that threatened to eat him from the inside out, always so sure that he was never going to get it. But here he is, James’ mouth moving passionately against his own, almost like he wants to devour him whole, Regulus struggling to keep up.

There’s no softness, no hesitation. James kisses with his whole body, going all out and giving everything he has, not bothering with taking it slow and demanding entrance during the first few seconds of their kiss.

Regulus, of course, grants it without a second thought, parting his lips with another needy moan, allowing James to explore the inside of his mouth. The other man licks behind his teeth and over the roof of his mouth, every swipe of his tongue possessive and greedy, like he’s trying his goddamn best to memorise Regulus’ taste.

Their tongues tangle together, and Regulus’ toes curl into his shoes as he lifts his free arm and buries his hand in James’ curls, pulling insistently at his hair, dragging groan after groan from him. His other hand stays exactly where it is, cupping James’ cock, feeling it twitch under his palm whenever Regulus does something James particularly likes.

He squeezes tentatively, and James growls into his panting mouth, rutting against his hand while he presses Regulus harder into the door frame. It’s digging into his back, the position definitely not the most comfortable or convenient, but Regulus can’t find it in himself to care when James is sucking on his tongue, fingers digging into his back.

James is still gripping his wrist tightly, as if he’s worried about Regulus’ hand going anywhere that isn’t his cock. The hold borders on too much, and Regulus thinks James might end up leaving marks.

And god, he really hopes he does.

At some point, one of them pushes the door to Regulus’ room open. He has no idea who. All Regulus knows is that one moment he’s being pinned into the door frame, and the next one he’s stumbling into his bedroom, James’ arm around him being the only thing that keeps him from toppling onto the floor.

They make their way towards the bed, stopping their kissing just to breathe, and even then, the pause lasts for less than half a second. Neither of them seem unable to get enough of each other, and Regulus thinks he could actually come in his fucking pants just from kissing James. From feeling his body against him. From his cock rubbing desperately into his eager hand.

James manages to turn them around, Regulus’ feeling his knees buckle at how easily the other man can manhandle him, especially when they’re nearly the same height. James can probably tell how into it Regulus is because of the little choked off noise that makes it past his lips, but he can’t find it in himself to be bothered when he feels James smirk into the kiss.

It makes him smile, too. And before he knows it, Regulus is whining weakly when they both have to pull away for a moment, unable to continue because of how widely they’re grinning.

“Shh, just a second, baby,” James coos sweetly against Regulus’ slick lips.

Before he gets the chance to protest and demand that James goes back to what he was doing with his tongue, the other man sits down on the edge of Regulus’ bed. He stares at James with glazed eyes, still stuck on their kisses, brain being unable to process any of what’s been happening in the last ten minutes. But then James is tugging insistently at the hem of Regulus’ top to pull him in and he stops trying to understand. Regulus is just happy to be here, settling his hands on James’ shoulders while he lifts one leg after the other until he’s straddling James’ lap.

It resembles their position back when they were playing, except this time James is sitting upright, his upper body pressed into Regulus and an idiotic smile curved into his lips.

He purses his mouth, trying to stop his face from reciprocating the gesture.

“Stop that,” Regulus mumbles, attention already slipping as he begins to sway forward. “Kiss me again.”

James chuckles as their mouths meet awkwardly, more of a clash of teeth than actual kissing. Regulus lets out a displeased little noise, but he’s too giddy to feel genuinely annoyed. In fact, when his response manages to make James laugh a little harder, his lips curl upwards on its own accord.

“Okay, baby,” James sighs, when his giggles finally die down a little, eyes slowly but surely turning dark once more. “Whatever you want.”

When they lips meet this time, it’s a lot gentler, more intentional. Their mouths slide against each other with purpose, no trace of the previous desperation, both of them silently agreeing to take it slower this time, to savour the moment a little. It doesn’t take them long to find a proper rhythm, their bodies moving like they’ve known each other for eternity. Regulus thinks it might be because of his stupid feelings, but he genuinely believes he’s never had this kind of chemistry with anyone before. He and James are completely in sync, guessing what the other wants with just a touch or a sound.

Regulus laps at James’ lips teasingly, and he hums when the other man opens up without missing a beat, greeting Regulus’ tongue with his own, their movements a lot more careful, more exploratory.

But then James’ hands slide down from Regulus’ hips to his ass, squeezing greedily, and all thoughts of going with the flow fly out the window. Regulus fucking mewls into his mouth, pressing into his grip, his mouth losing all finesse as he proceeds to fucking devour James’ lips.

It’s the beginning of the end. Their kisses turn sloppy, filthy, and Regulus doesn’t notice he’s begun to grind down on James until it’s too late, until he’s so into it he can’t find it in himself to stop. Besides, James doesn’t seem to mind much. Quite the opposite, really, with how his hold on Regulus’ ass seems to tighten as he controls his movements, helping him find a tempo that works for the both of them. Once they get the hang of it, James starts thrusting up, meeting every single one of Regulus’ moves, moaning low into his parted lips.

They’re barely kissing at this point, too busy chasing their pleasure, panting mouths grazing each other and tongues licking everywhere they can reach.

“Ah, James—” Regulus gasps, his cock straining painfully against his slacks. Their grinding provides him with some temporary relief, and although he’s sure he could come like this if they keep it up for long enough, he kind of wants more. “Feels—shit—feels so good—”

“Yeah, baby?” James grunts, giving a particularly harsh thrust, Regulus fingers twitching where they’re holding onto James’ shoulders for dear life. “Fuck—you like it like that?”

Regulus nods, his eyes fluttering shut. “Yeah, but I—I need more, James, please—”

James tilts his head back with a groan, and Regulus nips at his lower lip, not very happy about the sudden distance between their mouths.

“Fuck, Reg, you sound so pretty,” James pants, before leaning forward and kissing him properly once more, uncaring about how their teeth knock against each other for a moment due to his eagerness. “What do you want, baby? What can I do?”

Regulus whines loudly, shaking his head once before he begins to nod, unable to express his wishes properly, feeling too dizzy to even remember how to put his thoughts into words.

“Just—just more, James, baby, I need—ah, fuck—” Regulus breaks off into a moan, one of his hands moving until his fingers curl around the hair at the back of James’ hair almost at the same that the other man traps Regulus’ lips between his teeth and bites. “Touch me, please, I—”

“Aren’t I already touching you?” James questions, giving his ass a pointed squeeze, and Regulus manages to narrow his eyes at the lazy grin pulling at his lips.

“Not enough,” Regulus grumbles, rotating his hips and pressing down on James’ erection a bit harder, taking some satisfaction in the way a hiss makes its way past James’ lips.

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” James huffs out, but he’s grinning, fondness dripping from every word.

He drops a kiss on the corner of Regulus’ mouth, and before he can even process it, he’s leaving another one on his cheek, and then another one on his chin, creating a path downwards until James’ lips start to map out the expanse of Regulus’ neck. Regulus tilts his head, allowing him more space, whimpering softly when the kisses become open-mouthed, James’ tongue licking lightly at the skin of his throat and making him tremble between his arms.

Regulus’ rhythm keeps faltering, his thrusts turning sloppy and uncoordinated, but James doesn’t appear to be too preoccupied with it, too focused on covering every centimetre of Regulus’ neck with his mouth.

And then, when James begins sucking, clearly intent on leaving marks, Regulus loses whatever sanity he still had left. He grips James’ hair harshly enough to hurt, pulling a little before he tries to push the other man’s face even closer to his throat, even though it’s basically impossible. Regulus lets out obscene noise after obscene noise, a plea or two slipping in between, their grinding turning so messy he feels like a fucking highschooler again.

Not like Regulus was getting up to anything like this back then. He had been too busy repressing every part of himself that his parents didn’t like and pretending that the widening rift between him and Sirius didn’t bother him.

“Should’ve known you’d be into hickeys,” Regulus exhales, eyes rolling to the back of his head when James bites down at the junction between his neck and his shoulder.

“You bruise so easily,” James murmurs against his overheated skin, sending a chill down Regulus’ spine. “Fuck, I wanna mark you all over, baby.”

“You can,” Regulus sighs, blinking a little. “I’m all yours, James.”

“Shit,” James curses before sucking another love bite, this time near Regulus’ collarbone. “Say that again.”

Regulus’ eyes flutter shut for a moment before he forces them open, glancing over James’ shoulder, considering pushing the other man down on his bed and having his way with him. Don’t get him wrong, he’s thoroughly enjoying everything James is doing, and Regulus would be more than content just making out with him for the rest of eternity, but he’s been dying to suck James off since he laid his eyes on him. He had assumed the idea was bound to remain as a mere fantasy, but now that it’s starting to feel like a very real possibility… well. Regulus isn’t going to pass the opportunity up.

“I’m yours,” Regulus whispers, moving his arms until his palms rest over James’ chest, ready to push. “I’m all—”

His gaze catches sight of something on his nightstand, and despite the low lighting, Regulus knows the inside of his bedroom like the palm of his hand. And besides, it’s not like he brought a lot of things with him, apart from half his wardrobe.

It takes Regulus less than a second to realise he’s staring at a picture of him and Dorcas.

He took it with him both because it’s one of his favourites and likes to keep it close, and also because Dorcas had insisted on it, claiming that it’d make their relationship more believable. The audience tends to find it very sweet, and Regulus knows firsthand how much better it sells an union, especially one in which they’re supposedly deeply in love with each other.

The image always manages to drag a smile out of him, and he’s found himself watching it sometimes before going to bed.

Right now, however, it only makes his blood run cold, his movements stopping abruptly as his body goes completely stiff.

James, even as out of it as he is, notices almost immediately, and he pulls away from his throat with a frown already twisting his lovely features. His hands come up to cradle Regulus’ face, turning his head until their eyes meet.

“Regulus, love, is everything okay?” he questions a bit urgently, eyes roaming all over Regulus’ expression. “What happened? Did I do something wrong?”

He gives a vague shake of his head, tries to swallow down the knot that’s begun to form between his vocal chords.

They can’t do this. It had been easy to focus on James, on his kisses and how good his touch was making him feel, forget their circumstances and the situation they’re in. But Regulus mustn’t allow it to go on.

James clearly isn’t thinking straight. He has Lily, and he’s so very in love with her. Regulus has no idea what had come over him, over them both, but James… god, he’s going to be so upset when he comes to his senses. When he realises what he’s done. The thought is enough to make Regulus feel mildly sick, bile beginning to climb up his throat.

“You need to go,” he blurts out after a few painstakingly long seconds. Regulus winces as soon as the sentence leaves his mouth.

James goes rigid under him. “What?” he inquires in a whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus says, heart breaking as he stands up from James’ lap, taking a moment to stabilise himself after his knees threaten to buckle, this time for an entirely less pleasant reason. It kills him a little, the way in which James reaches out immediately in case he actually falls. “We can’t—we can’t do this.”

“This?” James repeats numbly, blinking up at Regulus.

“Yeah, James, this—” Regulus makes a gesture between their bodies, “can’t happen. You’re not—you’ll regret it.”

James’ jaw clenches, the glaze completely vanishing from his eyes as they harden.

“I feel like I should be the one to decide that.”

Regulus shakes his head. “Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be. Just—leave, James.”

The other man stares at him in silence, so many emotions flashing through his face Regulus can’t keep up. He can recognise hurt, and fear, and disappointment.

It’s enough to make him want to cry.

“Please,” he begs one more time, voice cracking.

James doesn’t say anything in response, but he does stand up slowly, hand reaching down to adjust himself in his pants. Regulus has to avert his gaze, ashamed of himself, of allowing all this to happen in the first place. Of still wanting it, even with a clear head and painfully aware of the consequences.

He shifts to let James pass, but even with the clear path ahead of him, James walks so close to Regulus that their shoulders graze. He’s helpless to the shiver that shakes his entire frame.

James exits the room quietly, closing the door behind him with a delicacy that squeezes Regulus’ heart. When the sound of his steps fades completely, Regulus crumbles, knees hitting the floor hard as the first sob leaves his mouth.

Chapter Text

James has thrown up twice since he woke up.

There isn’t anything solid in his stomach; he had dinner quite early last night, and he hasn’t gone down for breakfast just yet. He’s worried he might end up puking his guts out once again at the sight of food, so he’s waiting for the nausea to calm down a little. Although considering he’s spent the last forty minutes sitting on the floor of the bathroom, forehead resting against the edge of the toilet while he takes shaky breath after shaky breath, he’s not convinced that will be happening any time soon.

James is also fucking terrified of facing Regulus.

He has no idea of what had come over him last night. He’s gone over the events a dozen times, from a dozen different angles, and he still can’t make sense of it. One minute they had been playing, James hoping that it’d be the push they needed to make up after the fight, considering his anger had been completely gone by then and his pride had been the only thing holding him back. And the next minute James was pushing Regulus against the door to his room and kissing him senseless.

Something had clicked into place after having the other man in his lap using an ice cube to map out his entire torso. James hadn’t understood immediately, too dazed by the fact that he was getting outrageously turned on by a man, a man he had considered just a friend until recently. But once Regulus had run away, it had become so obvious James had wanted to scream.

He wants Regulus. He wants Regulus so bad he’s thrown all his morals out the fucking window.

It hadn’t come as a surprise when James found himself having to rush to the toilet the moment images from last night had begun playing inside his head. Regardless of how good it had felt at the moment, he’s been having a hard time dealing with the fact that he’s cheated on Lily.

And worse than that, he sort of wants to do it again.

Another wave of sickness hits him out of nowhere and James doubles over the toilet seat, retching violently. His eyes tear up with the force of it despite the fact that nothing but bile comes up. It’s not like he’s surprised. His stomach is so empty it’s beginning to crumb, but his body doesn’t seem to be getting the memo.

He fears that guilt and shame aren’t things he can’t get rid of by puking them out.

James shuts his eyes tight, a couple of stray tears rolling down his cheeks while he does his best to regulate his breathing. He can’t afford to stay hidden in his room the whole day. He has already done enough of that to last a lifetime, and besides, he’s starting to get tired of acting like a coward.

Except his stomach seems set on rebelling against him, and the mere thought of having to face Regulus after what went down last night is making him want to hide under his bed as if he’s six again.

He doesn’t trust himself not to make a complete fool of himself. And he also doesn’t trust himself not to kiss the other man.

What a fucking mess.

James doesn’t know how he’s going to explain this to Lily once they get out. He already knows she won’t forgive him, and it’s not like he wants her to, anyway. It’s not even about James being a cheater and her deserving so much better; a part of him is just a bit relieved at the fact that Lily won’t stand up for this type of behaviour, regardless of what excuse James tries to come up with. Not like there’s any odds in his favour. He wasn’t drunk, he hadn’t stopped after the kiss, and he had every intention to go further.

Regulus had been the one to put a stop to it, in the end, and James is still uncertain about how he feels about that. He’s sort of grateful, because he had been acting on mostly instinct and repression, all the feelings he’s been unwittingly bottling up these past few weeks finally coming to a head. He isn’t sure regrets it, but he is glad they didn't do more than making out and some grinding.

But here, under the annoying white lights of his bathroom, James can admit that he’s also a little disappointed.

Kissing Regulus had felt exhilarating. Scary and exciting and kind of otherworldly. It had felt like the first time he had scored the winning goal in a football match, like getting into his university of choice. Like he’s at the top of the fucking world and nothing could ever dare to drag him down.

It had been the type of kiss James had dreamt about when he had watched his parents slow dance in the kitchen that one night at thirteen. The type of kiss that could either kill a man or bring him back to life. The type of kiss that is surely going to haunt James for years to come.

He would’ve stayed and lived there if he could. James had been so lost in it that not a single alarm had gone off inside his head. There hadn’t been a single warning, not even after his brain had managed to catch up with the program. He’d been aware of what had been happening the whole time, and yet Regulus had been the one to remind him that it was bad. That it was wrong. That it wasn’t allowed to happen again.

After tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep more than a couple of hours, James agrees. They’ve both made a terrible mistake, and now the only thing that’s left is dealing with the consequences.

He’s already feeling bad enough without thinking about how Regulus must be coping, how painful it must be for him, too, especially with the love he has for Dorcas… James doesn’t know if he wants to cry more for himself and his destroyed relationship, or for Regulus.

But behind all that remorse, all the sadness and the anger, James fantasises about kissing Regulus again. About having him straddled on top of him, body at the tip of his fingers. About making him feel good, dragging more of those delightful sounds out of him. About undressing him slowly, tasting him properly, opening him up and sinking into the warm heat of his body—

James gags once more, but it ends up turning into a choked cry. He hides his face into the crook of his elbow as his shoulders shake silently.

God, he’s such a fucking asshole. He’s supposed to be in love with Lily, and yet here he is, bawling his eyes out because of how fucking turned on he is over someone who isn’t his girlfriend.

At least he’s so stuck on the cheating aspect of it that he doesn’t even have time to freak out over the sexuality thing. James had been sure about being straight until a few hours ago. He’s never been interested in men, hadn’t even realised he was attracted to Regulus like that until he had grown hard under him. And even then, it had taken him a couple more minutes to connect all the dots.

It’s fine. He’ll have plenty of time to panic over this once the show is over. James will probably be single and miserable, hating his entire existence, so he’ll be able to have a proper sexuality crisis. And he’ll have Sirius to help him and guide him through it, considering his best friend already lived and survived it.

Yeah, it’ll be better when he’s back with Sirius.

Until then, though, James is going to have to brush it aside or he might end up having to deal with something worse than some vomiting. It’s been a while since he had a panic attack, and he isn’t about to bring them back.

James groans, his sobs finally quietening down a little. Fucking hell, he feels like absolute shit. He wishes he was back in the dorm he used to share with Sirius when they were at uni, cuddling with his best friend on the couch while they watch one of those awful rom-coms Netflix puts out every other week. He wishes he was at his parents’ house, crying in his mother’s arms or crying against his father’s chest. He wishes he was with Lily at their home just a few months ago, when they still didn’t know the existence of this fucking show and it seemed like no one could dream of coming between them.

He wishes Regulus was there, scratching at his scalp while he reads him his favourite poems by those French authors whose names James can’t pronounce.

James wishes, and wishes, and wishes, but when he raises his head, he’s still sitting on the floor of the bathroom, cold tiles under his exposed thighs and the light above him blinding.

He gets a glimpse of his own face in the reflection of the mirror, and James starts crying again.

***

By the time he manages to make it downstairs, it’s nearly lunchtime.

Fortunately, no one seems too surprised by the fact that James has seemingly slept in. After being here for a month and considering the amount of stress they’ve all been dealing with lately, it isn’t uncommon for any of them to spend some time alone. They have a lot on their minds, and at this point it’s quite easy to recognise the signs, which means there aren’t any questions or any staring. James is ridiculously thankful for it.

Frank does ask him if he’s alright, to which James responds with a tight smile and a nod. His friend doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, but he doesn’t push, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze before rushing to join Lucinda outside. She’s lying on one of the loungers, the seat right next to hers empty and probably reserved for Frank.

James heads straight to the kitchen, slipping his hands under his glasses and rubbing distractedly at his eyes. He washed his face a few times, making sure all traces of his crying were gone, but his eyes feel quite swollen so he’s feeling a bit paranoid.

He doesn’t have any intentions of getting food. He just wants to make himself a cup of tea, chamomile if they have it, to help calm his upset stomach. James doesn’t even think he’ll join the others for lunch, using the time it takes for the water to boil to come up with a good enough excuse. The kettle always takes ridiculously long. James is grateful for that today.

When James makes it back to the living room, fingers wrapped firmly around the handle of the steaming mug, he stops right in the entrance. His whole body freezes up when he spots Regulus lounging in his favourite loveseat, listening to whatever conversation Marlene and Emmeline are having where they’re sitting on the floor right in front of him.

He’s smiling a little, and James’ heart flutters.

It’s offensive how good Regulus looks. James has always known he’s attractive, because regardless of whatever he had assumed his sexuality to be, he could still appreciate beauty regardless of gender. But it feels different now that he’s aware of how badly he wants him. James can barely breathe normally, the air stuttering in his chest during every trembling inhale.

He kind of wants to scream, because it’s so unfair that Regulus looks so at ease, being able to enjoy his morning as if nothing has changed, while James can’t even stand to look at himself in the mirror.

But then his eyes catch sight of a hickey peeking from under the collar of Regulus’ shirt, and James is suddenly too focused on not allowing his legs to buckle under him to worry about anything else.

Regulus’ neck had been thoroughly bruised by the time James had left his room, so he guesses he might’ve covered them with makeup this morning. It’s a smart move, and James hates himself a little more as disappointment settles in his stomach.

It’s not like he wants the others to find out, or pester Regulus with questions. But James has always been a bit possessive, and he can’t help but wish the other man would show all the marks off, regardless of how inappropriate it’d be.

Before he gathers the courage to finally step inside the room, Regulus raises his head, their gazes meeting almost immediately and making James falter once more.

It doesn’t last long, however. Regulus’ eyes widen minutely, and then he’s lowering his gaze, all his attention falling onto his lap.

James’ hands clench, and then he’s finally walking in.

“Oh, good morning, James!” Emmeline greets him as soon as she notices, going as far as lifting an arm and giving him a little wave.

“Good morning,” he responds with a little nod and a weak smile.

“Hey, Potter,” Marlene joins in a second later. She’s staring at him a bit too intensely for his tastes. James squirms slightly while he sits down on the sofa.

“Hi, Marls.”

“No offence, but you kinda look like shit.”

James forces a chuckle, cringing a little at how fake it sounds. He steals a glance at Regulus, who seems to have tensed up but is still ignoring James’ entire existence.

“I didn’t sleep very well last night,” he explains, and well, it isn’t really a lie.

“I bet,” Marlene hums, giving him one last lingering look before she returns to her conversation with Emmeline.

James blinks. There’s no way she knows, right? Everyone had been downstairs, and they had closed the door once they had slipped inside Regulus’ room, so it’s impossible she—

He shakes his head, refusing to add another item to his growing list of concerns. James has enough on his plate as it is, he doesn’t need to start worrying about people finding out about him and Regulus.

Not like there’s anything to find out, anyway. Regulus won’t even look him in the face. It’s making James feel ill again.

He stares down at his drink, taking a tiny sip of his tea while his other hand presses against his belly, massaging the zone softly. His gaze ends up straying to the side of the room, settling comfortably in the man curled on the loveseat, silently pleading to just look, even if just once.

Regulus doesn’t acknowledge him a single time all day.

***

When Emma sits down next to him on the edge of the pool, dipping her feet in the water as she hums, pleased with the warm temperature, James already knows she’s going to ask.

Still, and because she’s an actual saint, she remains quiet at first, shifting closer to James without bothering with any subtlety and resting her head on his shoulder. He huffs out a soft laugh before returning the gesture, tilting his head until it rests against hers for a few seconds before he pulls away. A tiny smile makes its way onto his face, and James thinks it’s his most honest one all day.

“Finally got tired of gossipping with Lu?” James is the one who breaks the silence after it’s made clear that Emma is giving him some space, letting him choose whether he wants to have this conversation or not.

She elbows his side gently, and he retaliates by nudging her with his shoulder, snorting when she makes a sound of protest.

“It’s not gossip,” Emma argues, crossing her arms over her chest. “We were just catching up a little. She’s always with Frank these days, and we had some things to talk about.”

“If that’s how you wanna call it.” James shrugs lazily, his grin widening when he hears Emma scoff.

“You need to start toning it down with the flirting,” Emma huffs.

James looks down at her with an arched eyebrow. “I thought you liked it.”

“And I do. But we’re nearing the end of the show, and it’s obvious that you don’t like me in that way, so I’d rather…” She pauses, sighing deeply. “It gets a bit difficult, sometimes.”

James finds himself frowning, a stinging between his ribs so visceral he finds himself rubbing the spot in an attempt to soothe it.

“Emma—”

“It’s fine, Jem. I don’t want your pity.”

“That isn’t what this is.”

“Still.” Emma shakes her head a little, her long hair tickling James’ naked arm. “Now that that’s out of the way, you wanna tell me what’s up with you?”

James squirms a little, which is probably telling enough, especially to someone like Emma, who has spent enough time with him these last few weeks to recognise his tells.

“Just a lot of stress,” he says, purposefully vague. “We’re in the final stretch, and I—I don’t know, I guess I’ve been struggling a bit more—”

“Jem,” Emma cuts him off firmly, albeit not unkindly. Her hand comes up to rest on his knee, and it’s then that James notices the way his leg keeps bouncing nonstop. He makes an effort to stop the movement, and Emma gives his knee a squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me about it. I didn’t come here with the intention to pressure you into anything. But at least don’t lie to me. You’re shit at it, anyway.”

James lets out an affronted noise, but his shoulders sag immediately as he leans some of his weight against Emma.

“Piss off, I’m not,” James grumbles. “You just know me too well.”

“Yes, I do.” Emma sounds quite pleased with herself, and it makes James roll his eyes, endeared. “But you also need to work on your lying skills.”

“Why would I do that? I hate it anyway.”

Emma pushes him with her shoulder. “So?”

James sighs heavily, one of his hands pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before it rubs the back of his neck. He isn’t ready to share everything that happened, or the specific details, but after all the time they’ve spent together, James has come to trust Emma. She makes talking to her so easy.

“Remember a couple of nights ago? When me and Reg played that ice cube game?” James starts, clearing his throat at the end.

He feels Emma nod.

“After he left and I went after him, well—” James runs a hand through his hair, shifting his position a little. Emma lets him reaccommodate without complaint. “Something… something happened.”

She tilts her head back, and James unconsciously looks down, allowing their eyes to meet. She has a small furrow between her eyebrows, and James blinks slowly at her.

“Something,” Emma repeats carefully, as if trying out the word in her mouth. “What kind of something?”

James isn’t quick enough to hide his wince. “We had a moment,” he tells her, having to avert his gaze.

Her frown worsens momentarily before her eyebrows shoot up, lips parting slightly.

“Oh!” she exclaims unexpectedly, and James has to force his face to not twitch. “You finally made up?”

“Yeah,” James answers a little too fast, swallowing down a relieved sigh. He needs to stop assuming everyone else knows, or that he’s being too obvious. Now that he’s realised his attraction to Regulus—and men in general, he supposes—he keeps getting paranoid, as if it’s started to show on his face, or something. “Yeah, we made up, and everything was good. Really good. But then it got a little too… personal, I guess you could say?” he takes a moment, searching for a better word. “Kinda intimate.”

Emma squints at him briefly, before her expression relaxes once again. “I think I get what you mean. It probably freaked Reg out, right? He seems terrified of vulnerability.”

“Pretty much, yes. I thought we had made some progress, but it ended up getting worse. And now he’s acting like I don’t exist.”

“I mean, Jem, no offence, but you also pulled that shit on him, and he didn’t deserve it.”

James bites down on his lower lip, gaze downcast.

“I know,” he mumbles, unable to meet Emma’s gaze. “But he was so fucking mean. He said a lot of hurtful things.”

“You both did,” Emma reminds him, her tone becoming impossibly gentle. “And it’s not like he didn’t have a point.”

James senses the way her shoulders go a little stiff against him, almost as if she’s waiting for him to get upset. And maybe James would have a few days ago. But now it’d be quite hypocritical of him, considering what he’s done, and the kind of thoughts he’s been having since then.

A sad smile pulls at his lips. “Yeah, he did,” James sighs. “I see that now.”

Emma watches him curiously. For a moment, James is convinced she’s going to prod, that she wants to know what exactly could’ve happened to make him so understanding of something just days ago he’d blown up over. He already has a lie ready at the tip of his tongue, but it still sends a wave of panic through him; the possibility of Emma catching him in it is quite high.

Luckily for him, she decides to leave it be after James doesn’t offer an explanation, and he’s left once again a bit overwhelmed by how much affection he has for her.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Emma questions, even though she must know the answer.

James gives her a pointed look, and she lets out a sigh, giving a shake of her head. “Well, maybe start there,” Emma tells him, and James exhales loudly through his nose.

“I just told you that he’s ignoring me—”

“And? He can’t run away from you forever, Jem. Besides, don’t pretend that this would be enough to deter you if you actually wanted to have a conversation.” She purses her lips, eyes narrowing slightly. “You can be very stubborn when your mind is set on something, so I’m going to assume that Regulus isn’t the only one terrified here.”

James swallows thickly, all his attention falling onto his lap, finding it suddenly fascinating. He can’t stand Emma’s knowing gaze, the curl of her lips, the glint in her eyes that could be either sympathy or pity.

“I get it, Jem,” Emma continues after a few moments of loaded silence. “I truly do. Everyone can see how much you two care about each other, and such a strong bond in a situation like this is bound to be volatile. But come on, you’re both adults. A conversation isn’t gonna kill you.”

“It might,” James mumbles, barely repressing the urge to pout. “I wouldn’t know where to start. My head’s been a mess lately, and I—there’s a lot of conflict about what happened between us. I fear I might just end up making it worse.”

“I highly doubt it—”

“Just remember our last fight! He tried to keep his cool and be patient, but I made it fucking impossible. What if we have another argument? What if this time we can’t come back from it?”

“Then so be it.” Emma shrugs, and James gapes at her. “Listen, regardless of how well or how bad your talk goes, it’s still worth a shot. Nothing can’t be worse than this silence. You’ll never know if you don’t even try, Jem.”

“But this way I get to keep him for a bit longer,” James protests, feeling a pang in his chest.

“Do you, though?” Emma wonders, giving his knee another squeeze. “Because from where I’m standing, this is just dragging it out. You’ll end up losing him regardless.”

James presses his lips into a thin line.

“I might also lose him if I talk to him—” he begins with a strain.

“Or you might not,” Emma cuts him off, her tone not leaving any room for argument. “Honestly, Jem, you’re a lot of things, but a coward isn’t one of them. You’re better than this.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” A self-deprecating laugh escapes James’ mouth.

“Well, I am,” she says resolutely, and when James manages to face her again, he can tell she means it. “I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know you during these past weeks, Jem, and I consider it to be such a privilege. I don’t care that nothing happened between us, or nothing ever will. Or, well, I do care, but not enough to give up your friendship.”

James blinks furiously, hoping that Emma doesn’t realise how damp his eyes are becoming, or the way his lower lip has started to tremble uncontrollably. He’s cried enough lately to know a tear or two is bound to fall despite his best efforts.

“And if there’s someone who also appreciates how wonderful you are, then that’s Regulus,” Emma goes on with an encouraging smile. “He’s being an idiot right now, and he probably won’t make it easy, but he cares. He cares so much, Jem. He just needs a little push.”

James chuckles, but it sounds wet even to his own ears. He gives a little nod, fingers twitching with the need to reach up and wipe his eyes.

“I’m scared,” he confesses in a broken whisper.

“Oh, darling, I know. You both are, and that’s okay. But you can’t let it ruin you.”

She lifts the hand that had been resting on James’ leg until it cups his cheek. James leans into the contact, eyes fluttering close as he breathes out shakily. Her skin is warm, and comforting, and exactly what he needs right now, even if he can’t help but crave a much colder touch.

“No matter what happens, I’m still gonna be here,” she tells him sweetly, her thumb drawing little circles on his face.

“Yeah?” James croaks out.

“Of course! You’re stuck with me now, Jem. And if you thought I was insufferable when I was doing my best to seduce you, you’re not ready for what being my friend is like.”

James laughs more loudly than expected to. It’s surprisingly genuine, despite the way in which the first tears begin to stain his cheeks. Emma is there, though, ready to wipe them off carefully and never allowing them to get too far.

“Thank you,” he mutters with a tiny grin. It’s wobbly and probably a bit pathetic, but it’s sincere, reaching his eyes without issue.

“Don’t thank me just yet. Wait until you and Regulus fix things, okay?”

“Maybe we won’t—”

“And that’s fine, too. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, even though it might feel like it. It’ll pass, James. And if nothing else, don’t forget that I’m always in your corner.”

James nods, more tears falling until he’s crying quietly, curling a bit into himself while his shoulders shake. Emma does his best to continue to stop the tears’ relentless path downwards, but it reaches a point when the task becomes impossible.

Less than a second later, there are arms wrapping around him, holding him tight and pulling him into a soft and warm body. James goes easily, not ashamed of his need for comfort as he presses his hands into the small of Emma’s back, turning his head until it’s hiding in the crook of her neck. The position isn’t the best for James considering their height difference, but he couldn’t care less. He won’t let go until Emma does.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” James repeats nonsensically, syllables blending together until they stop sounding like real words.

“Anytime,” she whispers back, and it feels like a promise.

***

It takes another full day, but James manages to corner Regulus during the next party.

He’s been waiting for a chance all night, ever since the other man showed up halfway through, when James had already gotten used to the idea that Regulus wasn’t coming tonight.

Marlene lets out a loud whoop when she sees him step outside, choosing to join them next to the pool, and James is half tempted to do the same. Especially when Regulus’ exposed collarbones come into his line of sight, a faded love bite staining his pale skin. It’s nearly gone, so James supposes that there was no point in trying to cover it, but he can still tell it’s there. Maybe because he was the one who put it there.

The theme for tonight is a pyjama party, which had been welcomed with open arms. They’re all a bit exhausted, and quite glad to be able to spend the night in comfortable clothes for once. James had thought that it’d make things easier for him, too, because it has him more relaxed, more at ease in his own skin.

Now that he has Regulus right in front of him, wearing an oversized t-shirt and dark sweatpants, an unexpected amount of skin on display, he realises that he might’ve miscalculated. The inside of his mouth is already annoyingly dry, and he can already picture himself tripping over his own words once they finally get to talking.

This is so fucking embarrassing. James doesn’t even remember being so pathetic back when he had been a clueless teen and utterly in love with one Lily Evans. Sure, he had constantly made a fool of himself, especially at the beginning, but he had been a bit smoother about it. Or at least more confident. James barely recognises himself these days, and he isn’t sure he likes the stranger that he finds when he sees his reflection.

They both agree when it comes to Regulus, though. And after his conversation with Emma, James had come to the conclusion that he isn’t going down without a fight.

He’ll deal with the consequences later. It’s not like there's a lot of opportunities to cope with everything that’s been going on in his life, and not having a meltdown whenever he remembers the cheating is proving to be hard enough. James will have time to feel sorry for himself once it’s over.

For the time being, he only cares about making things right with Regulus.

It’s a bit funny, really, how easily James manages to trap the other man in the end. After all the avoiding and ignoring, after how slippery Regulus has proved to be, the only thing James has to do is take him by surprise. His focus stays on him throughout the night, never wavering, not even when he chats with Frank and Lucinda for a bit, or when he and Marlene wrestle each other, their antics nearly ending up with both of them in the pool.

The moment someone turns the music up, almost everyone rushing to find a partner and dance, Regulus gets up, murmuring something about wanting to get another drink.

James waits for about half a minute, counting anxiously inside his head. When he stands up, his eyes find Emma, who had already been looking at him. She gives him a determined nod he doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate, and then he’s making his way inside, heart beating so loudly James swears he can feel it echoing in his mind.

He keeps his steps light as he crosses the living room, worried the sound of footsteps will alert Regulus too soon and ruin his plan, but when he reaches the entrance to the kitchen, James stops bothering to keep quiet when he hears some rustling coming from inside. He opens the door a bit too harshly, the way it slams against the door being impossible to miss, and watches, mildly entertained, at how Regulus jumps, coming too close to dropping both a glass and a bottle of wine.

Regulus’ expression screams murder when he turns around, shoving everything he had been holding in his hands onto the counter so violently James is convinced the glass must’ve cracked. But once Regulus realises who just stepped into the room, all his anger vanishes from his face. James can tell he’s doing his best to remain unaffected, his expression almost bored, but he’s witnessed this trick a few times now. It can’t fool him anymore.

“I didn’t know you wanted a drink too,” Regulus says a bit robotically, no inflection in his voice. “Sorry, I’m almost done. I’ll be out of your way in a sec—”

“We need to talk,” James cuts him off, proud of how stern he sounds, despite the way in which his gaze keeps straying to that one hickey or to Regulus’ curled mouth.

The other man blinks at him once. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Well, I do,” James counters without missing a beat, noticing the way in which Regulus’ right eye twitches. “And you’re going to listen.”

Regulus sighs, tired and long-suffering, before turning his back on James. He grabs the still-intact glass and upends the wine bottle over it. When he considers it sufficiently full, Regulus slams the bottle back down and takes a long sip, not bothering to turn back around.

“James, it’s late and we’re both tired,” he mumbles before he drinks from his wine once more. “I don’t see what’s so important that you—”

“We kissed,” James snaps a little more harshly than intended, making Regulus whirl around so fast he jostles his drink and part of it splashes over his hand.

Regulus glances briefly at the closed door behind James before he proceeds to shush him, blindly reaching out behind himself until the wine glass rests on the counter.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Regulus hisses. “Keep your voice down.”

“Yeah, I think I probably have, all things considered. And you acting as if nothing happened definitely isn’t helping.”

Regulus gapes at him before scoffing loudly, nose wrinkling while he crosses his arms over his chest.

“That’s because nothing happened,” he states slowly. “It was a fucking fluke. We had been drinking, and we got a bit carried away—”

“Having a cocktail and a half is what you call drinking?” James chuckles incredulously. He had wanted to remain calm and get his point across as clearly as possible, but he had forgotten how much of a prick Regulus can be when he wants to. “Not even you are that much of a lightweight.”

“Well, it’s the only logical explanation—”

“Is it? What about we both wanted it, hmm? Does that sound rational enough for you?”

“Obviously not. For starters, you’re straight.”

James squints his eyes at him. “I had my tongue down your fucking throat. How is that straight?”

Regulus throws his hands up in the air, an exasperated noise slipping past his lips.

“I don’t fucking know! You’ve always said you’re heterosexual,” Regulus exclaims with a shake of his head. “How was I supposed to—”

“That’s because I thought I was!” James snaps back, taking a step forward almost unconsciously.

“So what, are you telling me that you realised you like men after we kissed—”

“It was more the erection I got during the stupid ice cube game, but sure, let’s go with that,” James deadpans, watching with no small amount of satisfaction how Regulus’ hands clench.

“Congratulations on your coming out, then,” Regulus says coldly. It drags a scoff out of James, his tongue pressing into the inside of his cheek. “I fail to see what it has to do with me, though.”

He’s going to have to apologise to Emma later. James doesn’t think he’ll be able to act like the bigger person and keep the conversation civilised. He’s already struggling with swallowing his anger down.

The audacity of this man, honestly. In moments like this, James doesn’t understand what the hell he sees in him.

“You kissed me back,” James says after taking a deep breath, ignoring the need to rub at the side of his already hurting jaw. He needs to stop gritting his teeth so hard. “I’d say you have quite a lot to do with it.”

“It didn’t mean anything,” Regulus huffs, and James has to make an active effort to stop his face from doing something idiotic, like twist in pain. “We weren’t thinking clearly and we made a mistake, that’s all there is to—”

“A mistake?” James repeats in a mutter, feeling a bit like he’s just been punched in the gut. “Is that what it was for you? A mistake?”

Regulus seems to falter for a moment, the indifferent mask he’s so set on wearing falling from his face for a second before it returns full force. His grey eyes are cruel and ruthless; they make James want to scream until his throat is raw and bleeding.

He won’t, though. He didn’t come here to give up so easily. There’s no turning back now, not after what he’s done, so James might as well push until he can’t anymore.

If Regulus really wants him to scare him away, he’s going to have to try harder. James is quite familiar with most of his methods by now, and regardless of how true their aim is, how deep they manage to cut, they aren’t enough to kick him down.

“It’s what it should be, for the both of us,” Regulus tells him with a shrug.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Well, that’s the only answer I can give.” Regulus looks away momentarily, exhaling loudly through his nose. “You need to stop doing this, James. It’s only bound to make things worse.”

“They’re already bad enough,” James says pointedly, tilting his head in search of Regulus’ gaze, which seems fixed on a spot on the wall. “We’ve both done things we can’t take back, so why—”

“We can,” Regulus argues a little viciously. James can’t tell who he’s trying to convince, James or himself. “We can. In fact, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m taking it back. It was nothing, it didn’t mean anything, and I just want to forget about it—”

“How can you be such a coward?”

Regulus whips his head around so fast James startles a little. He’s openly glaring at James now, his pretty lips twisting into a horrible sneer. It’s definitely not the time, but James really can’t help getting distracted by that mouth, his head filling up with memories of how it felt against him and everything it can do.

“This isn’t me being a coward,” Regulus snarls, uncrossing his arms while his hands ball into fists. “This is me doing us both a fucking favour. I don’t get why you’re so set on ruining your fucking life.”

“Because it’s already ruined, Reg,” James admits, raising his voice slightly. One of his hands comes up to pull at his hair, the momentary sting grounding him a little, and he watches as Regulus follows the movement. “Can’t you see? There’s no fixing it this time. It’s ruined. I’m ruined.”

Regulus’ blank expression remains, but he gulps, his head beginning to shake with something akin to urgency while he presses himself back into the counter.

“No, no, that’s not true, we can—you still have Lily,” Regulus mumbles, eyes going a bit unfocused.

“Not anymore,” James confesses softly.

Regulus continues to shake his head, hands reaching out behind him to grip the marble counter, as if he needs support to keep himself upright.

“You don’t know that,” he argues weakly.

“Reg—”

“You don’t know that,” Regulus repeats more firmly, even with the way his words seem to shake. “You can’t be sure until you talk to her.”

“She won’t forgive me—”

“She might! Your relationship is fucking perfect, I’m sure you can get over a single slip-up—”

“Me and Lily’s relationship is far from perfect,” James sighs. He can’t even find it in himself to get mad, regardless of how much he despises that kind of comment. “You know that better than anyone.”

Regulus flinches, his whole body curling into itself.

“Still, you both—” he attempts once more, always so damn stubborn.

“And besides,” James interrupts him, daring to move a little closer, pleased when Regulus doesn’t seem to reject his advance, “it wasn’t a single slip-up.”

A frown makes its way onto Regulus’ face. He stares at James, uncomprehending. “What? We only—”

“I mean I want to do it again.”

Regulus’ breath hitches, the noise loud enough in the quiet of the room that it makes them both pause. There’s a beat where they don’t say anything; in fact, James thinks they aren’t even breathing, terrified about breaking the silence once again, destroying whatever moment they seem to be trapped in.

But then James is taking another step, watching Regulus’ face, ready to halt all movement at the slightest sign of displeasure. Except the other man only stares with wide eyes, lips parted and chest heaving, not making any attempt to stop him.

So, James takes another step, his pace slow and careful and relentless, not taking long to be standing right in front of Regulus. He makes sure to keep a certain distance between them, worried about overwhelming them both, but James can already breathe a little bit better.

There’s an itch under his skin, urging him to reach out, to touch, but he digs his nails into the palms of his hands, keeping his want at bay.

“Regulus,” James begins softly, like he’s speaking to a spooked animal.

“No,” Regulus denies, but it comes out hesitant. “That’s not—it can’t be. It’s a lie. It has to be a lie. You’re lying—”

“Regulus,” James says again with the same tenderness. “I want you.”

“But you love Lily,” the other man argues, blinking rapidly.

“Not in the way I should,” James explains, a small grin curving his mouth. The gesture is filled with sorrow.

“Don’t do this to me.” Regulus lifts both hands from the counter, both hovering James’ chest. He doesn’t know if the other man wants to rest them there or use them to push him away.

“Why not? Don’t you want this, too, baby? Don’t you want me?”

Regulus whimpers, shaking his head a bit desperately, but his body betrays him as it slides closer to James, shortening the space between them and finally placing his cold hands on James’ chest.

James isn’t wearing a shirt, and the feeling of their skin pressing together after a couple of days of not being spared a single look almost manages to drag a gasp out of James. He knew he had been craving Regulus’ touch, but he didn’t know it had been this desperate.

James is about ready to drop to his knees.

“Please, tell me you mean it,” Regulus pleads under his breath, his eyes already homing in on James’ mouth, pupils dilated. “Tell me you mean it, I won’t be able to—”

“I mean it,” James rushes to reply, the words tumbling out of his lips with ease. “I mean it, baby, I mean it so fucking much—”

Regulus is pressing his mouth against his before he can even finish.

James melts into it immediately, one of his hands coming up to cradle the side of Regulus’ jaw while the other finds refuge on his hip. He tilts the other man’s head slightly, changing the angle of the kiss and allowing their lips to slot against each other better, more comfortably, a shiver running down his spine at the little hum Regulus makes in response.

It’s slow and languid, very different from the ones they exchanged a couple of nights ago, but it’s still ridiculously good. Still mind blowing, still enough for James to feel like his brain is leaking out of his ears.

Regulus’ fingers curl around his chest, his nails digging deep enough to sting, and James hisses into his slick mouth. He doesn’t protest or attempt to pull away, though, because he can only hope that Regulus’ hands will leave marks in their wake. That he’ll wake up tomorrow with red scratches all over his torso, tender to the touch, and remember who put them there.

“This is so wrong,” Regulus pants against his lips, refusing to break the kiss completely, before diving in once again.

“Don’t think about that now,” James scolds him softly, biting down gently on his lower lip and tugging slightly, relishing in the whine it earns him. “Just focus on me, yeah? Let me make you feel good, baby.”

Regulus nods once, twice, and then James is kissing him again, slipping his tongue inside his mouth, licking teasingly behind the rows of teeth, feeling his cock stir at the choked moan Regulus lets out, at their tongues meeting and moving against each other.

The hand James has on Regulus’ hip, thumb drawing slow circles, moves on its volition, sliding down down down, until it’s gripping Regulus’ thigh. He gives an exploratory pull and marvels at the way the other man complies without a second thought, lifting his leg and letting James wrap it around his waist.

With the shift in position, their crotches press together, and they both let out the same noise, high, needy, filled with desperation.

James pecks Regulus sweetly on the lips before he pulls away a handful of centimetres, his forehead coming to rest against the other man’s. They’re both breathing heavily, mouths grazing with every inhale. James closes his eyes briefly, his mind completely void of anything that isn’t Regulus.

“Why’d you stop?” Regulus questions a little petulantly. James half expects him to stomp his foot. The corners of his mouth twitch and his eyes flutter open, coming face to face with a very flushed Regulus. His lips are slick with spit, and all the grey in his irises has disappeared, giving way to black.

“Needed a moment,” James murmurs, leaning forward to steal another kiss, incapable of helping himself.

Regulus chases after his mouth, gaze going half-lidded, a pout twists his lips when James doesn’t give him what he so clearly wants.

“You’ve had enough of those,” he complains, nipping at James’ jaw in warning. “Stop being such a tease and kiss me again.”

James smirks widely at him. “Yes, sir.”

They both throw caution and patience out the window after that.

As soon as their mouths crash against each other, James begins rutting against Regulus, hissing loudly when the other man reciprocates in an instant, both of them struggling to find a proper rhythm when they’re so fucking pent up. Regulus opens his mouth in a gasp, scratching down James’ chest, and he licks all over Regulus’ open lips, tightening his grip on his thigh and doing his best to control the movements.

It takes them a little, kisses turning uncoordinated and sloppy, saliva dripping down both their chins as their clothed cocks grind against each other, but they end up finding a pace that works for them. They pant into each other’s parted mouths, tongues tangling from time to time while they rut into each other, keeping a steady rhythm instead of a desperate one, more focused on thrusting hard, being able to properly feel it, than barely getting any relief just because they couldn’t control themselves.

One of Regulus’ hands climbs up again, until it’s covering one of James’ pecs. He squeezes once, twice, and then his index finger is teasingly circling his nipple. James moans shamelessly at the feeling, tilting his head back and thrusting more sharply.

When Regulus tilts his head down and gives the dark nub a lick, James swears actual stars explode behind his eyelids.

“Reg, fuck—” he whines, his thrusts becoming erratic.

Regulus hums, wrapping his lips around the nipple and sucking hard while his other hand pulls at the hairs in James’ stomach, leading to his happy trail. James nearly screams, but he reacts quickly enough, trapping his tongue between his teeth, doing his best to keep his sounds under control.

The other man pulls back with a pop and a light lick over the sensitive nub. James can barely see straight, so close to bursting he’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t feeling so good.

“Reg, if you don’t slow down this is gonna end ridiculously fast,” James groans. There’s so much pre-come covering his cock his boxers are becoming way too uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” Regulus says, licking his way up James’ neck, stopping only to suck a mark into the side of his throat, James’ fingers tangling into his curls and pulling encouragingly. “Wanna make you come.”

“Fuck,” James swears sharply, hips bucking wildly. “Wanna make you come too.”

“Yeah, baby?” Regulus asks, voice honey-sweet. James blinks a couple times, just to come face to face with the other man, their mouths dangerously close. “Gonna take care of me?”

“Always, Reg.”

“And why’s that, hmm?”

“Because you’re mine.”

Regulus makes a noise, and then he’s kissing James again, dirty and open-mouthed, not wasting any time before he forces his way inside James’ mouth. He licks greedily before he sucks on his tongue, and James’ hand is moving before he can do anything to stop it.

All of a sudden, his fingers are toying with the waistband of Regulus’ sweats. Regulus pulls away from the kiss with a gasp, gaze bright and wanting as he glances down briefly. When his eyes meet James’ once more, there’s hesitance in his expression.

“You’ve never done this,” Regulus states, a bit strained.

“No,” James concedes. He swallows thickly before his fingertips dip teasingly under the garment. “But I want to.”

“Are you sure?” Regulus bites his lower lip hard enough James fears he’ll end up drawing blood. His next thought, however, is that he’d love to taste it.

“Yes,” James breathes out, more of his hand slipping under the sweats, until he comes into contact with thick curls, Regulus inhaling sharply and going tense under James’ fingers. “Let me get you off, baby.”

Regulus nods almost immediately, but then he adds, “Together.” And honestly, that’s all the permission James needs.

Willing himself not to start freaking out, he completely shoves his hand under Regulus’ pants, fingers circling at the base of his cock. Regulus rushes to help him out, pulling his sweats and briefs down until they’re resting on his thighs, his hard cock slapping against his stomach and standing proudly.

James watches with fascination. He squeezes lightly to test the waters, and the noise Regulus makes is positively sinful. James slowly slides his hand up, trying to remember how he himself likes it, and then circles the tip with his thumb, using all the pre-come gathered there to make the glide smoother.

Before he starts moving properly, though, he brings his hand to his mouth on instinct, tongue poking out and giving his fingers a little lick, dying to know how Regulus tastes.

It’s salty and slightly bitter, but James doesn’t dislike it, and the fact that it’s Regulus’ only makes him want to suck every single one of his fingers, refusing to waste a single drop.

“Fuck, James,” Regulus whimpers, a shiver wracking his entire frame. Before James has the chance to say anything in response or wrap his hand around Regulus’ cock once more, the other man is pawing at James’ basketball shorts, pulling them down haphazardly, just enough so James’ cock can spring free.

He sighs in relief, but it’s short-lived, because half a second later Regulus is licking the palm of his hand and then proceeding to wrap it around James’ aching cock. Unlike him, Regulus doesn’t bother with any teasing and instead begins to jerk him off in earnest, pulling shameful noise after shameful noise out of James.

Regulus is ridiculously good at this. James isn’t sure if it’s because he can read him with ease, being able to tell what James likes the most—a turn of the wrist on the upward stroke, a firm grip and a thumb caressing his head from time to time—or if Regulus has done this before, and enough times for the action to become almost like second-nature.

James chooses to pick the former, because the latter is making him feel unfairly jealous, and he doesn’t want to ruin the experience for himself, not when he’s so close.

When Regulus leans forward to tug at his lower lip, trying to get his attention, James remembers that he’s also supposed to jerk Regulus off, to finish together. He takes a hold of the other man’s cock, more determined this time, and begins to move up and down, paying attention to what Regulus is doing and copying it.

It takes some trial and error, as well as Regulus giving him instructions here and there, his voice a wreck and sentences constantly breaking off because of his moans. Watching Regulus so lost in his own pleasure, fucking into James’ hand unconsciously and chasing his orgasm, only serves to push James closer and closer to the edge. Regulus has quite the talented hand, but he genuinely believes he could get off just to the sight of Regulus moaning and feeling good.

“Like that, ah, James—” he mewls, his hand coming to cover his mouth when his voice goes up a few octaves. “So good,” he gasps, voice muffled against his skin.

James doesn’t like that. He wants to hear every little sound that Regulus is making, but he’s aware that they’re doing this in a public space, and the risk of getting discovered is very high. And sure, it makes the whole thing hotter—even if James had never considered himself an exhibitionist—but that doesn’t mean he wants anyone to actually find them in such a compromising position.

It’s fine. He’ll make sure that the next time they do something like this, Regulus can be as loud as he wants.

“Close,” Regulus whispers, fighting to keep his eyes open. “So close, James, baby—shit—I’m gonna—”

“I know,” James replies in the same tone, tilting his body forward and resting his forehead in the crook of Regulus’ neck. He glances down, fascinated by the sight, by Regulus weeping cock fucking into his closed fist. It’s as pretty as the rest of him. “Me too.”

“Shit, James, please—” Regulus begs desperately, and although James isn’t sure about what exactly he’s asking for, he quickens his pace, cock giving a twitch at the low moan Regulus lets out at the change of rhythm. “You feel—fucking amazing, James, and you’re so—fuck, so—big—”

James flushes slightly at the comment, closing his eyes for a moment before he opens them again. He really doesn’t want to miss a single second of this.

“Can’t wait to feel you inside of me,” Regulus rambles on, and James whines into the skin of his neck, his orgasm so near he can almost taste it.

“Yeah?” he pants, dropping a kiss here and there. “You gonna let me fuck you, baby?”

“Yes, yes, please, James—I want you so bad—”

“So needy.” Another kiss. “Gonna let me bend you over this counter and take it like a good boy?”

“Please, fuck—” Regulus’ eyes roll to the back of his head, and James feels his body shake against his. “Gonna come, James, I’m—”

“Wait, let me,” James murmurs heatedly, delicately swatting Regulus’ hand away so he can grip both of his cocks together.

Regulus gasps, throwing his head back as his teeth sink into the skin of his wrist. It’s over way too fast after that.

James tugs at their cocks as they both thrust desperately into James’ hand, and it doesn’t take them more than four or five strokes to come all over each other. He bites down on the junction where Regulus’ neck meets his shoulder, hard enough for the taste of blood to flood his mouth, while Regulus’ whole body shakes against him, a string of small ah ah ah’s leaving his lips as they both ride it out.

When he finally blinks his eyes open, he isn’t surprised to find his vision a bit blurry around the edges. James can’t remember when was the last time he came this hard, which, for some reason, only manages to make him guilty.

Regulus sags against his, sated and spent. James tightens his hold on him, keeping both of them upright as he laps at the little wound he left on Regulus’ neck. The other man hums lowly, his clean hand carding through James’ messy locks.

He tilts his head up after a moment, and Regulus’ lips find his own automatically, overwhelmingly drawn to each other, helpless to resist whatever it is that keeps pulling them closer.

As James’ head starts to clear up, he worries he might be about to panic, but then Regulus is giggling into their kiss, and James feels himself smile.

He can only hope that they’ll be alright.

***

“What are you thinking about?”

James leans back, blinking at Regulus. He gives him some space when he notices him trying to shift, and Regulus turns around until he’s facing James. He has this contented expression on his face, like he’s completely at peace, limbs loose and mouth permanently curled upwards. James has come to learn that this side of Regulus lasts for an hour after he orgasms, and he’s already grown so ridiculously fond of it.

Once Regulus seems satisfied with his new position, James wraps his hand around his waist once again, tugging him closer, Regulus moving his head so it rests on James’ chest. He would’ve never guessed when they had first met, but Regulus has turned out to be quite the cuddler. At least after sex.

Though Jaames has also noticed he can be quite affectionate when they’re hanging out on their own, talking quietly and exchanging kisses here and there, after everyone else has gone to bed and there’s no risk of being interrupted.

They’ve been surviving on stolen moments for the past few days. James has been way too happy to dwell on how upsetting the reality of their current situation is.

“Mostly about you,” James responds with a cheeky grin. “But then again, you’re always on my mind, so…”

Regulus rolls his eyes before he kicks James’ shin under the sheet. He lets out a grunt, mildly impressed by Regulus’ aim, but he doesn’t get a chance to protest because then Regulus is tangling their legs together and sliding even closer.

James softens up almost immediately. It’s concerning, really, how weak he is for this man.

“Sap,” Regulus huffs out, but the corners of his mouth twitch. “I’m serious. You’re normally not this quiet after… Well, you know.”

“After we fuck?” James finishes for him, and this time he’s ready for the slap he receives to his chest. It doesn’t take away any of the pain, though. “Oi!”

“You deserve it,” Regulus deadpans, but he’s massaging the spot he just hit. “And we didn’t actually fuck.”

“What, because there wasn’t any penetration? Why, Reg, I had no idea you were this old-fashioned—”

“Fuck off, you know what I mean!”

James laughs, and when Regulus’ lips turn into a pout, he can only lean forward to kiss it off his face. By the time he pulls away, Regulus seems a bit dazed, lips parted in a silent exhalation.

“Sorry, baby,” James apologises, not feeling very remorseful. “I was just teasing.”

Regulus blinks a couple times before he gives a sharp shake of his head, as if trying to clear his head.

“Well, don’t. It’s not funny. And one of these days you’re actually gonna piss me off—”

“Please, you can’t get mad at me—”

“Wanna bet?”

James chuckles, patting the small of Regulus’ back. “No, thank you,” he says before nuzzling their noses together. “Damn, you’re cranky today.”

“And whose fault is that?” Regulus grumbles, but he kisses the corner of James’ mouth, so there’s no way he’s genuinely irritated. “Maybe if you actually fucked me—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” James sighs, his smile dimming slightly as he shies away from Regulus’ gaze. “We talked about this, I just—I can’t cross that line. I’m sorry.”

Regulus uses his hands to caress up and down James’ arm, before he climbs even higher and his fingers graze James’ chin, tapping lightly and urging him to look up.

“Hey,” Regulus says so softly James shivers. “I won’t pretend to understand, but I respect it, okay? And I don’t actually mind. I was just joking. I’m happy with anything and everything you wanna give me.”

James’ heart swells in his chest, and he kisses Regulus as his mouth curls upwards. The other man is also grinning like an absolute idiot, which makes the kissing a bit difficult, but they still make it work, intertwining their tongues and licking into each other’s mouths lazily, with no intention of going any further.

A confession burns at the back of James’ throat when they finally break it off, Regulus looking at him with stars in his eyes. It makes his stomach turn, and he forces it down before it can try to slip through his mouth.

“I’m thinking of the after,” James confesses quietly, squirming a little. “Of what’s gonna happen once we get out.”

Regulus purses his lips, turning his head away and burrowing his face into James’ skin.

“It’s too soon to be worrying about that,” he mutters, and James wishes he could see his expression. His tone remains calm, but he’s learnt not to trust it alone.

“Is it?” James sighs quietly, his eyes focusing on the white ceiling over them. “We only have a little over a week left, Reg. What are we going to do?”

Regulus’ back goes rigid under James’ touch. “I don’t know,” he confesses. If they weren’t lying so close together, James doesn’t think he would’ve heard it. “I don’t know.”

James presses his lips into a thin line and hugs Regulus tighther. When he forces himself to close his eyes, he can only hope that sleep will come at some point, if it comes at all.

***

James feels like such a hypocrite, his hands resting on Regulus’ hips and his chest pressed to his back, both of them grinding against each other while they pretend to move to the beat of the music. He’s spent so many days judging the others for this exact thing, glaring in silence whenever they danced too close or too suggestively, always looking like they were about to cross the line.

And yet, here he is, doing the same. Or, well, it’s technically even worse in his case, considering he and Regulus have been doing a lot more these past few days than some harmless dancing. Not like anyone knows.

He thinks he’d feel terrible if he wasn’t half-hard in his jeans, his cock rubbing against Regulus’ ass with every roll his body makes. His blood is too busy rushing south, and after everything that’s happened, James thinks he might be becoming an expert on suppressing his feelings. Any negative thoughts are pushed to the back of his head, any signs of guilt or remorse he ignores, making an effort to focus on Regulus and what they have—even if they both refuse to name it—his friends and how little time he has left on the island.

Someone whistles loudly, and James raises his head, unsurprised to catch Kingsley watching them with a shit-eating grin in his face. He wiggles his eyebrows when their eyes meet, and James tilts his head back with a cackle that only worsens when Regulus notices and gives him the middle finger.

“Never expected you to be this shameless, Reg!” Lucinda exclaims, her words accompanied by a giggle, and James doesn’t need to be looking at Regulus to know he’s rolling his eyes.

“I mean, he’s dancing with James,” Franks drawls with a teasing smile. “Who wouldn’t be?”

James throws him a kiss, and Frank pretends to grab it with his hand, before putting it in his shirt’s front pocket. He sends a wink James’ way right after, which earns him a coy bat of James’ lashes. The gesture gets cut short when Regulus notices, however, elbowing James as discreetly as possible.

He bites the back of his neck in retaliation, snickering next to Regulus’ ear when he jumps a little, a furious blush already climbing up, heating the skin under his lips.

They’re both drunk enough to have stopped caring as much about how affectionate they’re being in public, hiding behind the fact that they’ve always been quite clingy when it comes to each other. Apart from some teasing about their dancing, no one has spared them a second glance.

Emma’s eyes had lingered on them for longer than necessary, a tiny furrow between her eyebrows, but she hadn’t said anything, and stuck to Marlene for the rest of the night, so James had forgotten about it after his second drink.

Peter and Emmeline decide to join them at some point, and when they exchange a couple of shy kisses, James doesn’t feel the slightest bit upset. If anything, there’s only jealousy, because he wishes he could grab Regulus by the jaw and force him to tilt his head back, sealing their mouths together in a kiss before given a chance to protest.

Still, this is more than he thought he could have, and James is thankful. Sure, it’s starting to become more difficult to turn a blind eye to reality, to what’s going to be waiting for him once he goes back home. But for now, he’s only choosing to focus solely on the beautiful man in his arms and the aftertaste of alcohol in his mouth.

James doesn’t know how long they dance, only that by the time Regulus turns around, arms wrapping around his neck and finally halts their swaying, James’ feet are slightly sore, and he’s a bit sweaty.

Most of the others are lounging on the couches or even on the floor, looking about ready to fall asleep. Peter and Emmeline are tucked into a little corner, making out languidly, and Frank and Lucinda are cuddling in one of the loveseats, speaking quietly to each other.

“Wanna get out of here?” Regulus murmurs way too close to his mouth. No one seems to be paying attention to them, though, so James doesn’t call him out on it.

He loves it when Regulus acts this needy.

James feigns an scandalised gasp. “Regulus Black,” he starts in a whisper, “are you propositioning me?”

Regulus scoffs, but it lacks any heat, and the permanent flush on his face seems to become even redder.

“No,” he denies in a drawl, not convincing in the slightest. “Just wanted to take a little dip. In the hot tub.”

James blinks at him, sure that he must be misunderstanding. Regulus can’t be suggesting what he thinks he’s suggesting, right?

“Baby,” James says under his breath, eyes roaming all over his face. “How drunk are you?”

Regulus swats him weakly at the back. “Not that much.”

“I don’t believe you. You wanna get in the hot tub and—”

“Take a bath,” Regulus cuts him off sharply, giving him a pointed look before he makes a vague gesture with his head, addressing everyone else in the room. “Is that so wrong?”

“Reg, I don’t know who you’re trying to fool, but—”

“James, don’t you trust me?”

He’s not being fair. Regulus is staring at him from under his lashes, his lower lip beginning to stand out while a couple of his fingers play with the hairs at the back of James’ head.

How is he supposed to refuse him like that?

James tilts his head with a groan before he gives a reluctant groan, incapable of remaining stern with the way Regulus immediately beams at him, rocking on his heels before he gets on his toes to peck him quickly on the cheek. James is left completely stunned, earning him a giddy laugh. He doesn’t get a second to process it before Regulus is pulling away and tugging at his arm, urging him to move.

What can James do, if not follow?

No one seems to notice them leaving, maybe because half of them are already snoring, and the other half are completely in their own world. James could swear his eyes meet Marlene’s but after he blinks, she finds her attention on Emma, who’s telling her a story that seemingly requires a lot of gesticulation.

They slip out as quietly as possible. Regardless of how unlikely it is that someone notices their absence, James doesn’t want them to check outside, or realise that they didn’t go back to their respective rooms. Although it’s not like Regulus has been sleeping on his lately, anyway.

Regulus giggles as soon as the sliding door closes behind them, swaying slightly on his feet as he drags James towards the hot tub. It’s far away enough from the house that he isn’t too worried; if Regulus had decided to get frisky in the pool he might’ve had to put his foot down.

They make it in one piece, despite Regulus tripping over air once and James nearly crashing into one of the lounger chairs. If he’s being honest, they might be more drunk than he had originally anticipated.

As soon as they’re standing on the edge of the hot tub, Regulus doesn’t waste any time and starts to undress without a care in the world. James’ eyes jump from the other man to the warm water in front of him, sighing before following Regulus’ example.

Regulus doesn’t get completely naked, which is a little disappointing, but then he’s sneaking inside the hot tub, throwing a heated glance at James over his shoulder, and James promptly forgets about any complaints he might’ve had.

James rushes to get rid of whatever’s left of his outfit, bar underwear, and then jumps in after Regulus, who pounces the moment James is in the water.

He catches him with ease, and then they’re kissing deep and slow, James’ hands sliding down and gripping at Regulus’ ass while he manoeuvres them as carefully as possible.

James manages to sit on the floor of the hot tub without interrupting their kissing, which Regulus seems very pleased about, if the little hum he lets out as he settles in James’ lap is anything to go by.

It turns dirty a little too quickly. They’ve been teasing each other all night, going crazy because of their inability to touch freely. James is so pent up he can’t be bothered with a lot of foreplay, dying to get his hands on Regulus and make him come so hard the only thing that comes out of his mouth is James’ name.

“Been waiting for this—ah—all night,” Regulus moans softly into James’ mouth, tongue following the curve of James’ upper lip teasingly. “You’re not allowed to dance with me like that again. Not in—shit—in public.”

James laughs hoarsely, their teeth clacking and the kiss breaking for a moment. “Did I turn you on that much, baby?”

“What do you think, asshole?” Regulus gasps, grinding down on James with purpose, making both of them hiss at the contact. They’re so painfully hard James doubts this is gonna last very long. “I was terrified someone was gonna notice.”

“You didn’t seem very terrified to me,” James comments playfully, pecking Regulus one, two times, and then pulling away, mouth attaching to his neck before Regulus can complain. “Quite the opposite, really. You were very into it—”

“Don’t fucking get it twisted, you’re the one who’s into exhibitionism, not me,” Regulus pants, and it’d sound menacing if it weren’t for the neediness in his voice, the erratic tempo of his thrusts.

“Fuck off, no I’m not,” James retorts, biting playfully on the side of Regulus’ neck, and snickering when he receives a weak swat on the back in response.

“What was that, then?”

“You tell me. You’re the one who wanted to dance.”

“But you’re the one who turned it all—fuck, James—all filthy—”

Regulus cuts himself off with a moan, his fingers sliding up and tangling themselves with James’ hair, pulling a bit too hard when James sucks right under Regulus’ ear. He’s been more careful about marks, because Regulus asked him to be, and also because it’s not like he wants anyone to begin asking questions. But he still can’t help himself sometimes, especially when everything seems so fuzzy around the edges, and Regulus is so warm and heavy and desperate on top of him. It doesn’t even look that noticeable, it’ll be gone by tomorrow. Possibly. Hopefully.

“Ah, James, I’m—” Regulus starts, pausing to whine and pulling James’ face closer to his throat once again. “I can’t do this, I need you to, to touch me—”

James licks the faint hickey he just left, slowing the movements of Regulus’ hips with his hands, thrusting up teasingly and forcing Regulus to just take it.

“I thought I already was?” he questions, dropping a few soft kisses on the expanse of Regulus’ neck.

“You know what I mean!” Regulus hisses, and James can almost hear his pout.

He slides one of his hands from his hip to his belly, fingers slipping under the waistband of Regulus’ briefs for a second before they move away. James does this a couple of times, relishing in every whimper Regulus lets out, in the way he tightens his grip on his hair, before finally sticking his hands inside, getting a hold of the other man’s cock. Regulus moans high and loud as soon as James gives it an experimental stroke.

“Like that?” James kisses his jaw, lingering for a moment.

“Yeah, baby, just—just like that—” Regulus mewls, bucking into his touch, doing his best to fuck himself into James’ fist. “But also it’s not—I want more—”

James tilts his head back slightly, searching for Regulus’ gaze to no avail. The other man’s eyes have gone half-lidded and there’s a glaze over them, as if he can’t properly focus on anything in front of him because of the blinding pleasure.

“More?” James repeats quietly, cocking his head slightly.

“Yeah, more.” Regulus nods furiously, before pulling one of his hands out of James’ hair and using it to grab James’ free one. He allows it, curious about what Regulus plans to do with it, until the other man forces it down the back of his briefs and James realises his intentions.

He freezes up, and Regulus, despite the alcohol in his veins, must understand because he stops pulling, loosening his grip around James’ wrist.

“Reg—” James starts, tone a little tight.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Regulus rushes to reply, blinking a few times and looking the most sober he’s been all night. “I know you said it was a line you wouldn’t—couldn’t cross, and I respect it, I just—I thought that, maybe—”

“We don’t have lube,” James interrupts him, swallowing thickly, fingers twitching where they’re resting against Regulus’ ass. “Or condoms.”

Regulus’ eyes widen. “It’s fine. I prepared myself before the party. I should still be loose.”

There’s a loud record-scratch noise inside James’ mind. He genuinely thinks his entire brain is currently rebooting as he gapes at Regulus, who’s growing more and more nervous the longest James stares in silence. Regulus squirms a little, but it creates a sudden friction where James’ hand is still wrapped around his dick—even though unmoving—and Regulus makes a tiny noise before halting all movements.

“You planned this,” James says, and he meant to ask it, but it comes out as a statement instead.

“No,” Regulus answers with a violent shake of his head. “I swear, James. I was—while in the shower, I—” he stops and clicks his tongue, averting his gaze momentarily. “I didn’t have any ulterior motives. I was just, just thinking ‘bout you, and then… well, you know.”

Regulus makes a vague gesture with his hand, and James’ eyebrows can’t go any higher at this point.

“You jerked off to the thought of me?” he mumbles, certain that he must be understanding wrong.

The other man raises his head up and glares at him. It doesn’t have that much of an effect with the blush covering his cheeks, though.

“Why is that so shocking?” Regulus throws his hands up in the air, and despite having been freed, James doesn’t take his hand out of Regulus’ pants. “I’ve had your cock in my mouth!”

James chokes on his own spit, glancing around them as a reflex before refocusing on Regulus. His own face is beginning to feel uncomfortably hot, and he doubts it’s because of the alcohol or the hot tub. Or, well, not entirely because of them.

“I know!” James splutters. “I know. But this is—it’s not the same—”

“You’re right, blowing you is a lot worse—”

“Well, yeah, I guess, but also—”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” Regulus huffs, sounding annoyed, but James can tell he’s merely embarrassed.

It softens him a little, realising how good he’s gotten at reading Regulus. Impenetrable, mysterious, stoic Regulus—a language he finally understands.

“I’m not,” James reassures him, leaning forward just to nuzzle their noses together, biting off a laugh when Regulus wrinkles his but doesn’t pull away. “I only—what were you thinking about?”

“When?”

“When you… you know.” James gives him a pointed look, the warmth on his face worsening. “While you were—at it—”

“Fingering myself?” Regulus finishes for him, putting James out of his misery.

He gulps and nods, and Regulus squints his eyes slightly at him, as if trying to gauge where all these questions are coming from.

“Why do you wanna know?” he ends up inquiring, clearly wary.

“Um,” James mutters, blinking very slowly. “Because it’s fucking hot?”

Regulus watches him in silence for a few seconds, his lips slightly parted, before surging forward and clashes their mouths together. It’s so sudden. James makes a startled sound into the kiss before he reciprocates.

It doesn’t last as long as he’d like and it leaves him wanting more when Regulus tilts his head back with a lick at James’ lips, just to smirk at him.

“I was thinking about the first time we got off together,” Regulus confesses in a whisper, just for James’ ears. “We’ve done so many things since then, but I always find myself going back to that day.”

“Yeah?” James’ voice comes out a bit breathy. Against his better judgement, the hand he has stuck inside the back of Regulus’ briefs starts sliding lower, fingers teasingly caressing between asscheeks, making the other man arch his back. “Why’s that?”

“I’m not—” Regulus starts to say, stops when a noise tumbles out of his lips. “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because it was the first time, but you—fuck, James, you were so good and so—so eager—”

“How could I not? When you look like this? When you take what I give you so nicely?” James tells him sweetly, biting the inside of his cheek while he presses a finger into Regulus’ entrance, not using enough force to breach but still making its presence known.

Despite what Regulus has told him, he’s surprised to find it a little slick.

The other man keens at the touch, head tilting back and eyes fluttering closed. He buckles into the touch, urging James on, and Jaames is sure that if he wasn’t a bit drunk he’d be a lot more nervous about doing this. Considering how freaked out he is every time he wakes up alone—after Regulus has slipped out of his bed early so that he isn’t discovered, his side of the mattress still warm—Jaames would think going even further, doing things even more intimate and vulnerable, should be terrifying.

Somehow, it isn’t.

“Fuck, baby, don’t—” Regulus moans, his cock twitching under James’ fingers. “Don’t tease me like that. If you’re not gonna—if you don’t wanna do it, then please—”

“What if I—” James murmurs, pausing just to swallow the excess of saliva inside his mouth. “What if I do want to?”

“Then go for it,” Regulus heaves, eyes still closed. A tiny furrow appears in his brow, as if he’s making an effort to remain coherent. “Just fuck me.”

“But I—I’ve never done this. Not with a man.”

Regulus’ eyes snap open at that, and he leans forward, shifting his position slightly so he’s sitting straighter, facing James better.

“I know. And you don’t—Don’t feel pressured to do anything, baby, you don’t have to—”

“Reg, I just said I want to. But you—I’m gonna need you to tell me what to do. I don’t want to fuck up.”

Both of Regulus’ hands come up to cradle James’ face, thumbs drawing gentle circles on the high points of his cheeks.

“You could never,” Regulus whispers, soft and genuine, and James’ body sags instantly. “But okay, baby. I’ll teach you, okay?”

“Okay,” James answers in the same tone.

“Take your hand out,” Regulus instructs, tone going a little serious. It gives James a bit of whiplash, but he still obeys immediately. Regulus gives him an approving smile, and then he’s taking a hold of James’ hand once again. “I know I said I was probably still loose, and all, but I could do with some extra lubrication.”

James finds himself frowning, but before he has the time to ask, Regulus is dragging James’ hand towards his mouth and slipping a couple of fingers inside his mouth. James’ mouth falls open as Regulus begins to shamelessly suck on his digits, eyes never once leaving James’. His tongue dips between his fingers, sending a shiver down James’ spine. The tips of his fingers could probably touch the back of Regulus’ throat if James pushed a little, and it feels so warm, and soft, and wet, and there’s so much spit. He had never thought himself to be into something like that, but his cock is ridiculously hard inside his boxers, and James is lowkey ready to burst.

Once Regulus considers the digits sufficiently slick, he pulls off with a pop. He must know exactly what he was doing, because the corners of his lips tick up in a half a smirk. James can’t even be mad, his fingers jerking briefly with the need to push back inside Regulus’ mouth again.

The idea’s gone as soon as Regulus moves James’ hand behind him once more, encouraging him to return to where it had previously been.

He gulps but nods lightly, before sliding under the other man’s underwear, Regulus letting go the moment James seems to take the reins.

“Start with one,” Regulus tells him, voice sounding as wrecked as James feels. “Go slow.”

James nods again, and after teasing the rim of Regulus’ hole a couple times, both as revenge and because he kind of needs a moment to muster the courage, James presses until his finger goes in to the first knuckle.

He stops when Regulus’ breath hitches, but he’s so fascinated by the sensation, by how much warmer and softer it is than Regulus’ mouth, that James ends up pushing a little more, fitting his whole finger inside the other man with barely any resistance.

“Good,” Regulus praises breathlessly. His gaze is impossibly dark as he stares down at James. “Now in and out, baby—yeah, like that.”

James frowns in concentration, probably being way too careful in his movements, but Regulus doesn’t seem to mind, or at least doesn’t say anything about it. He lets James find his rhythm at his own pace, his breathing a bit irregular while James fucks him with one finger.

The sensation is vaguely familiar, but it also doesn’t feel like anything else James has experienced, so he does take his time, pressing against Regulus’ walls and prodding around, always paying attention to the other man’s expression. He doesn’t want to hurt him or make him uncomfortable. James craves to learn his body, every corner and every nook, until he knows it like the palm of his hand, until he’s able to recognise Regulus’ pleasure better than his own.

“You can add another one,” Regulus tells him on an airy exhale. James has no idea how he’s doing, but he can’t be too bad when the other man looks so content and sounds so breathless.

James listens and a second finger joins the first, finding a bit more resistance this time but still being able to fuck in and out without much difficulty. Regulus gasps loudly and clenches a little around the intrusion, which forces James to swallow down a moan. He can’t help but imagine how that will feel on his cock.

He doubles his efforts, growing more confident each second and experimenting a little, scissoring his fingers whenever he pushes inside and listening intently for every noise that comes out of Regulus’ slick lips. James makes sure to repeat all the moves that have Regulus moaning the highest, obeying to every instruction and plea that falls from his mouth.

Before he realises it, James has gotten the hang of it, adding a third finger with ease as soon as Regulus asks for it, curling them playfully and delighting in the way the other man’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

James enjoys the pace, the cadence of it. He’s always been the type who liked satisfying his partner the most, even if that sometimes means not getting any kind of relief himself. So it doesn’t come as a surprise that he ends up extremely invested in fucking Regulus with his fingers. The fact that a part of him is inside the other man is enough to make his head go dizzy, but being able to pluck such beautiful sounds from him—to watch his face twist in pleasure, his eyes going half-lidded—makes the experience so much better. James can’t even remember why he had been so reluctant to do this in the first place.

At some point, and when James feels comfortable enough—and remembers that he has another functioning hand—he begins to stroke Regulus’ cock in time with the thrusts of his fingers. Regulus nearly screams, trying to both fuck himself into James’ fist and against his fingers, lips parting in a whine when he realises he has to pick one or the other. He goes a little cross-eyed when James curls his digits just right, grazing something inside Regulus in the process. James feels the other man’s cock spurt even more pre-come, and it dawns on him, his mouth spreads into a grin.

“That the spot, babe?” James wonders sweetly, curling his fingers the same way and watching Regulus fucking wail.

“Yes!” the other man screeches, hands coming up and finding refuge in James’ back, nails digging and scratching the skin there while Regulus continues to try his best to meet all of James’ thrusts. “Right there, fuck, James—”

He becomes nearly incoherent not long after that, with James focusing on grazing his prostate during every push of his fingers, while his strokes remain torturously slow, even though his grip is firm and tight. Tears spring to Regulus’ eyes, and James doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone look so far gone.

James is immediately obsessed with the sight; with the way it looks on Regulus.

“Enough,” Regulus pants. He shakes his head, but doesn’t try to actually stop James, his hips still moving as he leans into the friction. “That’s enough, James, I—want you inside, need your cock—”

James lets out a needy noise at that. Regulus’ words remind him of his own painful erection pressing insistently against the soaked cotton of his briefs, the head already peeking through the waistband. It’s impossible to tell in the water, but James knows he’s ridiculously wet, his aching cock leaking.

“Are you sure?” he forces himself to ask, even though there’s nothing he wants more than to sink into Regulus’ heat. His fingers slow considerably, their thrusts becoming teasing, and he halts all movement over Regulus’ cock. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Shut up, you won’t. I know what I can or can’t take, James,” Regulus snaps, and he isn’t sure if he’s more annoyed about the comment or the sudden lack of relief.

“I know, baby, but I just—” James sighs before taking his fingers out, shushing the other man when he whines quietly. If he’s being honest, he also misses being inside Regulus the moment he pulls out. “Have you ever done this before?”

Regulus blinks at him, and then a couple of wrinkles appear on his forehead. He squirms a little, averting his gaze.

“Yeah,” he admits reluctantly. “I’ve known I like men for a while now.”

“Oh,” James breathes out. “I didn’t—you’ve never said.”

Regulus winces. “I wasn’t sure how it was gonna be received.”

“Baby,” James calls to him softly, glad that the other man listens, allowing their gazes to meet once more. “No one here would care. I mean, yes, we would, but not in a bad way.”

“You can’t know that for sure, James. Like, okay, they’ve all been lovely, but this is—”

“First of all, I doubt that everyone in the house is straight, so I can at least be certain that most of them would react positively. And second of all, if someone dared to give you shit for it, well, they’d have to answer to me.”

Regulus snorts with a roll of his eyes, but James catches the twitch in the corners of his mouth, the way he bites his lip to stop a smile from spreading.

“Look at you, getting all defensive over me,” Regulus teases him, leaning forward to touch their noses together. “Gonna protect my honour, James?”

“Always,” he responds, raising his chin slightly. He knows Regulus isn’t being serious, but he means every word. “I have your back no matter what.”

Regulus’ expression softens at that, and despite the playful curl of his grin, or the way he bats his lashes at him, James can tell Regulus is touched.

“My hero,” Regulus sighs all dreamily. It’s all in good fun, but James hears the sincerity in his tone.

His heart flutters in his chest, some sort of confession begging to escape the back of his throat, but it feels so big and so very dangerous that James doesn’t let it. Instead he smiles widely, teeth showing, before he pushes forward and seals Regulus’ mouth with a kiss. He gulps down the threatening words, focusing on the feeling of the other man’s lips moving against his own, and James’ momentary anxiety settles quickly.

By the time they pull away, Regulus’ hands have made their way down, fingers toying with the waistband of James’ pants while his eyes slide all over his face, a question hiding in them.

“Now that my experience with anal sex has been established,” Regulus says, and James hates how his cheeks colour slightly. He’s far from a virgin, but Regulus tends to make him feel like a clumsy teenager. Most of the time, James doesn’t dislike it, because it makes it all so new, so tender. But at moments like this, he kind of wants to die from embarrassment. “I think it’s time to get to it.”

“You’ll tell me if you need to stop, or if I do anything you don’t enjoy,” James mumbles. He isn’t asking.

“I will,” Regulus agrees without missing a beat, getting James to relax considerably. “But you’re gonna do just fine.”

“I hope so,” James sighs.

“You will. Besides, I’m so wound up that having your cock inside might be enough to make me come.”

James snorts, and Regulus smiles, and suddenly this whole situation doesn’t feel as daunting. That’s why when Regulus arches an eyebrow, his fingers clutching more firmly on the waistband of his boxers, James nods without hesitation, exhaling in relief the moment his cocks springs free.

He grips it and pumps a couple of times, making the effort to stop before he gets carried away. James has been neglecting his needs for way too long, if the groan that pushes its way out of his mouth during the first stroke is anything to go by. Part of him just wants to jerk off to the sight of a horny Regulus, but James forgets all about easy relief when the other man grabs his shoulders as support and raises himself enough to hover over James’ lap.

James lets go of Regulus’ cock, lips parted in awe while he watches the other man take his underwear off, throwing it somewhere behind him. He doesn’t get too much time to admire Regulus’ body, though, because a second later, he’s lowering himself down, reaching behind him to try and guide James’ cock towards his entrance.

He doesn’t have to. James is already on it, with one hand on Regulus’ waist to aid him and the other around his own dick, craving to feel that velvet softness around him.

It takes a couple of attempts, because they’re both dripping wet, and it’s kind of difficult to manoeuvre comfortably inside a hot tub, but they manage in the end, the head of James’ cock slipping inside and dragging twin gasps from both of them.

The sudden pressure is enough to make James see stars. He has to take a second to inhale deeply, reminding himself to keep a cool head and not finish before he even gets the chance to properly enjoy it.

Unfortunately, Regulus seems to have a different idea. Impatient as ever, he slams down before James can even blink, moaning lowly when James is finally fully seated inside him. He can only whimper and shut his eyes tight, fingers digging painfully into Regulus’ waist while he tries his best to not make a complete fool of himself.

“Fuck, Regulus,” he hisses, and James means to sound admonishing, but he’s too blinded by pleasure.

“So full,” Regulus hums, completely out of it. James watches the darkness of his gaze, the tears gathering at the corner of his eyes, the flush covering his face, his neck, part of his chest.

He’s so beautiful. James doesn’t understand how it took him so long to realise it.

“I’m gonna—” he mutters, breath hitching when Regulus clenches down involuntarily. “I’m gonna need a moment.”

“It’s fine, you can move—”

“If I do that, this will end embarrassingly quickly.”

Regulus’ eyes widen slightly, a little noise slipping past his mouth, and then he’s swaying forward, pecking James sweetly on the lips. When he pulls away, he’s smiling a bit giddily, and James is so fond of this man he’s sure his heart will burst out of his chest any minute.

He has to kiss Regulus for that. And despite James only going for a peck, to sort of return the other man’s gesture, Regulus is fast to reciprocate, lips moving in sync against his own, falling into a familiar rhythm. It stays fairly innocent for a bit—or as innocent as it can be when James’ cock is nestled inside Regulus, that is—but at some point, one of them pushes a tongue through wet lips, and all of a sudden it’s turning open-mouthed. Greedy and possessive and dirty.

Regulus begins to rock into him in time with the movements of their mouths, just circling his hips enough so James’ cock can rub against his walls. It sends spark after spark down James’ spine, and before he realises, he’s started to thrust up, seeking more of that heat, more of that tightness.

His arms wrap around Regulus’ middle as his hips buckle, making sure Regulus doesn’t lose his balance while James fucks into him, the rhythm surprisingly controlled considering how desperate he feels. Regulus goes back to needily scratching at James’ back, lips struggling to continue moving against James’ with the way they keep parting to let out moan after moan.

James is grateful to the night for keeping them hidden, to the alcohol in their friends’ veins and the loudness of the music, since he isn’t sure he’d be able to stop regardless of anyone discovering them.

“Shit, James,” Regulus keens, pulling away slightly. There’s spit running down his chin, and he looks fucking ruined. “You’re so deep—fuck—I knew you’d feel, feel amazing—”

“Yeah? Been dreaming about my cock inside you, baby?” James questions breathlessly, giving a particularly harsh thrust right at the end, making Regulus whine.

“So many times,” the other man babbles in response. Despite the hold James has on his body, he’s trying his best to meet every single one of James’ moves. “I never thought—never thought I’d get it—”

“It’s yours,” James tells him in a hiss, slowing his thrusts momentarily. “I’m yours.”

“Baby,” Regulus mewls, eyes rolling to the back of his head as James speeds up again. His nails dig into James’ skin painfully enough that he’s sure Regulus must be drawing blood. “Say it again—ah—please—”

“I’m yours, Regulus,” James says even before the other man has finished begging. “I’m yours, I’m all yours, I don’t want anyone else—”

“Fuck, James, baby—” Regulus moans, throwing his head back. The only thing keeping him upright is the grip James has on him. “Harder, I need it harder—”

James grits his teeth and complies, planting his feet more securely on the floor of the hot tub and then pistoning his hips up, relishing in how incoherent Regulus becomes, how high-pitched his sounds come out now. He scrambles forward, unable to meet James’ thrusts. He can only take them now, nails digging into James’ skin and doing his best to not slip away.

His eyes find Regulus’, but the man seems to be in such bliss that James doesn’t think he’s actually looking back. There’s a glaze covering his gaze, and James kisses him, Regulus is barely able to reciprocate. He swallows each and every one of the other man’s whimpers, and James groans low in his throat when Regulus clenches down on him.

He never stops moving, thrusting up relentlessly. During an especially deep push, Regulus yells, a few tears falling from his eyes and staining his red cheeks. His cock twitches against James’ abs, and James begins to smile like he’s won the fucking lottery.

James stops, silently adjusting Regulus’ position on top of him. “There?” he wonders softly, even though he already knows the answer.

“There,” Regulus confirms, slurring a bit, face hiding in the crook of James’ neck as he clenches and unclenches, making James hiss through gritted teeth.

It’s all a blur from then on.

James makes a point of trying to hit Regulus’ prostate with every thrust, and although he doesn’t always manage it, it’s enough to make the other man go completely boneless. James has to tighten his hold on him while he continues to fuck him, moves becoming erratic as he feels his own orgasm approach.

Regulus licks the skin of James’ throat, like he needs to have his mouth on him at all times; the feeling only drags James closer and closer to the edge, a helpless moan slipping through his parted lips.

“James—” Regulus starts, his voice completely destroyed. “I’m so—so close—”

“Me too, baby,” he gasps, pushing harder, deeper, feeling Regulus’ entire body shake against his. “I’m almost—there—”

“Inside,” Regulus rushes to say, and it sounds like a plea. “Please, James, do it inside, I want it inside—”

“Are you sure?” James questions, vision whitening with the strain to not come right then and there. “It’s not—it probably isn’t the safest option, Reg—”

“I don’t care,” the other man whines, teeth grazing James’ neck. “I don’t care, I want it, please, James—”

“Okay, okay, fuck, okay, baby. Anything you want, anything for my boy—”

James thinks Regulus says something in response, but it’s muffled, and barely a mumble, so he doesn’t catch it. He forgets about it nearly immediately, though, too busy seeking his own pleasure while also making sure the other man reaches his peak. James becomes sloppy, both of them holding onto each other for dear life, and when Regulus begs again, words nonsensical and half-stitched together, James has half a mind to use one his hands to get him off.

He moves one of his arms between them, wrapping his fingers around Regulus’ weeping cock, and then gives one, two, three, four firm tugs in time with his thrusts, and then Regulus is coming with a silent scream. James barely feels the other man’s come splattering both their bellies with his come because he orgasms half a second later, letting go as soon as Regulus clamps down on him, a symphony of white exploding behind his eyelids.

James rides it out with a couple of weak thrusts, which make Regulus shiver with oversensitivity. Still, he doesn’t complain, only whimpering softly while he melts against James’ body, the hands clawing onto his back finally relenting until they’re barely grazing skin, arms coming up until they’re loosely wrapped around James’ neck.

“Good?” James pants, chest heaving as his shoulders finally begin to relax.

Regulus hums, nuzzling into the side of his throat. “So good,” he sighs tiredly. He always gets so sleepy after an orgasm; whenever James wants to make him come more than once, he has to act fast, because the risk of Regulus falling asleep is very high.

“Best you’ve ever had?” James can’t help but tease, grinning cheekily even though the other man is unable to see it.

“Don’t push it,” Regulus huffs, and James isn’t surprised when he gets punched weakly on the shoulder. James lets out a snort and Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, but then, “Yeah,” he adds, albeit reluctantly, hugging James closer.

He has to bite his tongue to keep a pleased laugh from escaping, contenting himself with dropping a lingering kiss on Regulus’ temple. His heart swells when it causes the other man to burrow nearer, leaving a kiss of his own on James’ neck.

“Okay, lemme pull out and then we can—” he starts, trying to pull away. Regulus doesn’t let him get too far, though.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Regulus snarls, clenching down and making James tear up at the sudden stimulation. His cock gives a valiant twitch. “Stay inside.”

“Baby, you know I’d love to, but it’s physically impossible for me to not slip out at some point—”

“I think I could keep you hard forever.”

James lets out a startled chuckle, endlessly fond of this ridiculous man. “Oh, I’m sure,” he says, and he really means it. “But after your mind clears a little, it’s gonna start feeling disgusting, and you’ll want a shower—”

“Doubt it,” Regulus grumbles like a petulant child. “I like being full of you.”

James’ cock gives another twitch, more violent this time, and he groans under his breath, forehead coming to rest on one of Regulus’ shoulders. The other man snickers softly.

“You’re a fucking menace,” James complains halfheartedly. “Of course you’d be into that shit.”

“Why do you think I was so set on having you come inside, hmm?” Regulus drops another kiss on James’ neck. “I could’ve also grabbed a condom or two before the party, just in case, but I didn’t even consider it—”

“Stop, stop, stop talking—” James whines, banging his head weakly against Regulus’ shoulder and dragging another laugh out of him. “I’m not fucking you again, Reg. Not now. And not here in the hot tub where anyone could see us, fuck, why did I let you convince me to do this—”

“That’s fine,” Regulus rushes to answer, amusement still covering his tone. “Just—can we stay like this for a little longer?”

Regulus’ voice becomes a bit more serious right at the end. James lifts his head slightly, searching for the other man’s expression, checking if he’s doing okay. But Regulus can be so stubborn when he wants to, pressing even closer, refusing to move away from his refuge in the crook of James’ neck.

He sighs, a tiny smile pulling at his lips.

“Of course,” James tells him gently, running a hand through Regulus’ sweaty curls.

The other man hums in satisfaction, and his hold loosens slightly, now that he knows that James won’t try to pull them away.

“We can stay like this for as long as you want.” It tastes like a lie.

***

The last days of the show are spent in utter bliss. He and Regulus are together all the time, getting more and more reckless around the others after they realise it doesn’t get them a reaction. None of them bats an eye. None of them seem to be able to connect the dots. It’s not like James can blame them; he himself wouldn’t have believed it if it had been the other way around, which he realises is his own fault, making those sorts of assumptions. When it comes to this, however, it definitely works in his favour.

It’s dangerously easy to forget about the outside world. To sleep at Regulus’ side without thinking of the cameras, and the mics, and reality waiting for them to be done. James pushes away each and every doubt and focuses on making the most of his time with Regulus. They dance at parties and sometimes even participate during the games, he swims in the pool while Regulus sits in a lounger chair and pretends to read, his eyes never leaving James’ body. They cuddle on the couch and chat with the others, they cook and share meals and sleep in the same bed, even though one of them always has to slip away before the other wakes up.

And yes, they also fuck. They fuck a lot. James doesn’t remember ever having this much of a sex drive despite being a very tactile person, but Regulus has a way of getting him in the mood with just a glance.

James definitely isn’t complaining. It’s annoying that he has to be careful about marks, and that he can’t get too handsy in public, that neither of them are allowed to be too loud—but he’ll take anything at this point. Anything to be with Regulus for just a little bit longer.

But then, one morning Pandora is there when they all come downstairs for breakfast, and just like that, it’s over.

It’s fucking over.

James follows the others in a trance, feeling Regulus’ eyes staring intently at the back of his head but being unable to return the look. He feels the life is getting sucked out of him, slowly but relentlessly, his movements becoming heavy, lazy, like someone has cut all his strings.

He had known that there was an expiry date to this, to him and Regulus, and that it had been approaching at an alarming pace. And yet, James had still chosen to avert his eyes, to take Regulus’ hand and force him to turn away with him, hoping it’d go away if they both ignored its looming presence for long enough.

But he had been wrong. James realises it now, with every step he takes, eyes fixed on Pandora’s content expression, the curve of her grin. He might be reading too much into it, might be preparing for the worst, but James can swear that she seems especially delighted today. That there’s a certain edge in her gaze.

He sits down on his usual chair with a straight back and stiff shoulders. Regulus is still watching him, even if more discreetly now, pretending to pay attention to Pandora and what her presence here means. But James feels it anyway, like a brand on his skin, burning everything in its wake.

“Good morning,” Pandora exclaims, her voice making James want to wince. “It’s so sad to have arrived at the final part of the show. If nothing else, I’m glad I got to know you all so well, that you were the ones chosen for this season. It’s truly been an honour.”

James hasn’t gotten the chance to eat anything just yet, but he thinks he might be sick regardless.

“I promise I won’t take much of your time, I’m sure you wanna spend all the time you still have left together,” she goes on, unaware of the turmoil she’s causing. Or maybe she is aware, and that’s why her grin appears to sharpen when her eyes fall upon James. “But you must pick a partner for your final date.”

Everyone around him relaxes immediately at the news, and James even hears Kingsley laugh in relief, murmuring something to Peter who snorts in response.

However, it only makes James tense up even more, the urge to search for Regulus’ face at the table becoming nearly unbearable.

It’s not the end of the world. The contract explained how the final date works, that it’s supposed to last for an entire day but they don’t have to do anything with their tempter of choice if they don’t want to. They give them separate hotel rooms, so it’s their decision if they spend the night together, and the last Bonfire is the day after, anyway, so it’s like a way to say goodbye to the show. Also, a final chance to be unfaithful.

James turned up his nose at it back then, but then, and as the program progressed, he came to the conclusion that it shouldn’t be too bad, especially considering he isn’t obligated to do anything. There’s also the option of rejecting it completely, although not a lot of previous participants have gone down that route.

Spending his last day with Emma had sounded nice a few weeks ago. And it still does, because she’s such a dear friend. Besides, they haven’t talked a lot lately, with James being so preoccupied with someone else and all, so it could be an opportunity to catch up and bid each other farewell, even though he has every intention of reaching out to her once they’re out.

The thing, though, is that Emma isn’t the person James wants to have that stupid final date with. She isn’t the one he wants to spend his last hours in Temptation Island with. She isn’t the one James wants to talk to, or laugh with, or share a bed with.

“At this point, I’m pretty sure which tempter all of you are going to choose,” Pandora comments, tone playful. “But I gotta stick to the script, so let’s get this over with so you guys can enjoy your final hours on the island. Shall we?”

One by one, they begin to say the name of their girl of choice, giving their reasons and responding to every question Pandora asks. James barely registers it, time slipping through his fingers, slowing down and then speeding up before he can get a proper grip on it. He does notice that Peter doesn’t stutter when Pandora tries to guilt him about Emmeline, that Frank never raises his voice when asked about Lucinda, and that Kingsley remains unbothered even when Pandora suggests something he’s done with Amelia might be considered cheating in Sybill’s eyes.

James tries to be happy for them. Proud to see they aren’t letting themselves be played by Pandora anymore, tired of being pawns in her game. But his whole body has gone so numb. He feels so painfully empty inside.

He almost doesn’t hear it, when Pandora calls his name.

“Sorry,” James hears himself mumble. “I don’t know where my head’s at.”

Pandora nods, understanding. “That’s okay. I know the last few days can be a lot.”

“Yeah,” James murmurs, blinking a few times as he tries to force himself to focus. He manages to meet Pandora’s eyes, shivering slightly when he notices a sly glint shining in them. “I guess it’s kinda obvious at this point, but I’d like to have my final date with—”

“Wait,” Pandora cuts him off, and despite her face remaining serene, James is convinced the corners of her mouth curl even higher. “Considering some recent… developments, the crew and I had a little talk, and we’ve decided to change some rules for your sake. Never say I’m not considerate.”

James blinks one, two, three times, his head tilting to the side as a furrow settles between his eyebrows. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“The contract states that you must pick a tempter to spend your last date with or refuse to have said date altogether. Well, I’ve made some adjustments, because it didn’t seem fair, and this way your choices are expanded.”

“What? What do you mean by ‘expanded’?”

“I mean you’re allowed to choose the person you’ve actually been fucking this last week.”

The silence that falls over them all is loud enough to feel suffocating. A laugh fights to escape James’ throat, because he must’ve heard wrong, because there’s simply no way, it must be a joke, Pandora can’t be—she can’t actually—

“I’m sorry, the person he’s been what?” Frank questions in barely a murmur, and James flinches with his whole body, gaze still fixed on Pandora, on her satisfied smirk.

“That’s not—” James whispers, shaking his head a little, his hands shaking where they’re resting in his lap.

“You seem shocked,” Pandora says, eyebrows shooting up. “Did you forget about the cameras? About the fact that we see everything?”

Bile climbs up James’ throat, and it burns on its way down when James forces himself to swallow it.

“No, but—” he tries in a croak, mouth filling with the taste of blood.

“Nothing like this has ever happened in the history of the show, so we weren’t sure how to proceed,” Pandora continues, pointedly ignoring James and every pathetic attempt to excuse himself. “My first thought was to punish you both, but there isn’t any rule against it, because we weren’t prepared for it. I’m actually quite impressed. It’s not often that someone manages to surprise me.”

James can feel every single person in the room staring at him, can feel them gaping, waiting for him to deny Pandora’s accusation, to get mad at the mere insinuation. But he can’t. He can’t. James is frozen in his seat, shivering from head to toe, blinking away all the tears that come rushing and gulping down every wave of nausea.

He wants Regulus. He wants to take him and get as far away from here as possible and forget this happened in the first place. But at the same time, the thought of the other man is making his stomach turn.

“After watching you two be all over each other for the entirety of this week, I realised I had to allow you to be together. Have that final date. I’m not heartless, you know.” Pandora sighs softly, giving a gentle shake of her head. “My crew agreed immediately. They’ve gotten so ridiculously invested. They’re even rooting for you both.”

James presses his lips into a thin line, slumping in his seat. He hears his heartbeat rumbling inside his head, pulsing behind his eyes, and he can barely suppress the childish urge to shut them and cover his ears. Step away from the conversation, pretend it’s not about him.

He’d thought he had more time. He’d thought they were going to be fine.

“So, what do you say, James?” Pandora wonders, baring her teeth, her lips painted a sickening red spread wide. “The cat’s out of the bag now. You ready to come clean and face the consequences of your actions?”

James exhales shakily, curling even further into himself. He blinks, and blinks, and blinks, but Pandora is still standing there every time he opens his eyes, smirking at him, expecting an answer.

He opens his mouth, but not a single noise comes out of it. In fact, James fears that the only thing that’ll manage to escape is a sob.

“Okay, I think that’s more than enough,” someone hisses, and it takes James a moment to realise it’s Regulus’ voice. It drags a whimper out of him, and he turns his head, searching for the other man, something inside him settling when his eyes find him. Regulus is just a few seats away, standing up from his chair. “You really do love to fucking gloat, huh, Pandora?”

His hands are curled into fists, his lovely grey eyes terrifyingly cold, narrowed into slits as they glare daggers at the woman. Regulus looks more than ready to fight. It leaves James conflicted, pleased to be protected and looked after like this, but also shrivelling in shame for not being able to stand up for himself, for having Regulus do this in front of everyone.

She pouts slightly, feigning offence. “You hurt me, Regulus.”

“Good,” he scoffs. “I’m having my final date with James, yeah? There you go. I fucking said it. Is that what you wanted? Are you happy now?”

“Immensely so,” Pandora replies, getting up from her seat while she tucks a few strands of platinum hair behind her ear. “Thank you so much for your cooperation. I wish you all the best, and I’ll see you at the Bonfire.”

She lifts a hand and waves them all goodbye, but her gaze lingers on Regulus, one of her eyebrows arching and her mouth curling up in a victorious smirk, before she turns away, making her way towards the door.

Regulus is at James’ side before Pandora is even out of the room.

“Come on, James.” He speaks softly, crouching slightly until they’re eye to eye. His expression is gentle, but her gaze is filled with sadness. James thinks it’d crack his heart in half if it weren’t already too broken. “Let’s go.”

He isn’t sure of what Regulus means, or where they’re supposed to go, but James complies regardless, standing up robotically and taking Regulus’ hand when it’s offered without a second of hesitation.

Someone calls his name. Maybe even Regulus’, too. There’s yelling, and steps following them, but Regulus stops, turns around as he pushes James behind him. He barks out something, James can’t make the words out for the life of him—but it keeps the other person, or people, from going after them.

Regulus keeps his hold on James’ hand loose and tender, but firm enough for him to feel it, to keep his focus on him and do his best to not slip away. The other man brings them into a room that feels familiar and safe, and even if James is unable to recognise his surroundings, he calms slightly, his breathing finally slowing down.

As soon as Regulus turns, lips pursed and arms open, James crashes into him. He makes himself small, pressing his side against Regulus’ stomach while he falls to his knees, the other man dropping to the floor with him, never letting him fall alone.

James allows himself to be hugged so tight he can barely take a single breath, chest heavy and ribs feeling like they’re about to crack.

He doesn’t cry. He isn’t sure he has any tears left.

***

“Baby, I can’t finish packing your suitcase if you don’t let go of me.”

James grumbles something not even himself understands and then he wraps his arms around Regulus’ middle, nuzzling his cheek into the other man’s side.

Regulus sighs loudly, but there’s so much fondness in the sound James’ can’t help but smile.

“We still have time,” James complains, kicking his legs a little. “Come lie in bed with me.”

“I already did that for nearly two hours,” Regulus reminds him, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, still trying his goddamn best to get up and away from James, which is simply unacceptable, really. “We almost fell asleep—”

“Nothing wrong with a little nap—”

“And then you tried to get us sidetracked—”

“I merely offered a blowjob, it’s not my fault you had such a hard time saying no—”

“When you know that we need to be out of here in a little over an hour.”

James harrumps, a frown twisting his features while he holds onto the other man a little harder. Regulus sighs again, but he sounds a bit more irritated this time. James worries he might not be able to slow the other man down for much longer.

“I’m a fast packer,” James tries regardless. “I can have both our suitcases done in half an hour.”

“James,” Regulus deadpans, running a hand through James’ hair. Before he can lean into the caress, beg for some nice scratches, Regulus tangles his fingers in the curls and pulls a little, forcing him to look up and meet his eyes. “I’ve seen the mess inside your wardrobe. You’re not fooling anyone here.”

James pouts openly at him, but Regulus doesn’t falter, his gaze stern. “You’re so boring,” James huffs out, puffing his cheeks.

“Cry me a river.” The other man rolls his eyes, and when he attempts to stand up again, James allows it, aware that he’s pushed way too much.

Regulus has indulged his little tantrum for long enough; James just doesn’t know how to stop being selfish when he’s with him, knowing that Regulus will take it time and time again, not a single protest leaving his lips.

There’s no guilt about it, though. Because he’s more than willing to give all parts of himself to Regulus, to bow at his feet if the other man so much as asked.

“Do you keep your toiletries in your suitcase or your bag?” Regulus wonders as he begins to move about the room, James rolling into his side so he can watch comfortably.

“Bag,” James replies quietly, folding his knees.

Regulus wrinkles his nose at him, but he doesn’t voice his thoughts on the topic, which James is grateful for.

“Any dirty clothes?” he asks next, and James closes his eyes, doing his best to remember. He’s about to reply when there’s a knock on the door.

Regulus freezes up in front of James’ open wardrobe and James springs up, heartbeat quickening while his eyes jump from Regulus to the door and then back to Regulus again.

They stay still for a beat, James staring at Regulus’ nape while Regulus continues to watch the row of clothes in front of him.

Before James has the chance to say anything, Regulus is turning sharply around, a blank look on his face. He stomps towards the door, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

He seems to hesitate briefly, but then he’s opening the door aggressively, his shoulders so tense they’re up to his ears. James doesn’t need to get a peek at his face to know he’s sneering.

Regulus comes to a stop when he realises who’s on the other side of the door, and James can’t say he blames him.

All the guys are standing on the threshold, shifting their weights from one foot to another, conflict plain on their faces. When James finally gets up from the bed, he notices that the girls are also there, glancing over their shoulders, looking anxious and nervous and upset.

They all focus on James the moment they catch him standing a few metres behind Regulus.

“May we come in?” Frank asks, voice strained.

James is almost sure Regulus is going to tell him, and everyone else, to fuck off, but after a couple of seconds of intense staring, tension high in the air, Regulus steps away. However, and before any of them can even move forward, he rushes to James’ side, positioning himself right in front of him, arms crossed over his chest.

That doesn’t make the others falter. Frank slips inside first, walking like a man on a mission, headed towards them. James fights to stop his body from flinching, but before he can step back, grab Regulus and take him with him, Frank reaches out and embraces them both in his arms.

He tenses up before he relaxes, while Regulus goes completely rigid even though he doesn’t exactly reject the hug.

A second later, Peter joins them, followed closely by Kingsley, and then, one by one, all of the girls. James watches as Regulus clumsily reciprocates after he finally processes what’s happening, and James himself rushes to do the same, doing his best to touch as many people as he can; to let them know how much he appreciates this, how much he appreciates them.

He hears someone sniffle, and James realises with a start that it’s him, his cheeks feeling slightly wet. He blinks a little, just in time to catch Regulus tearing up, hiding his face in Kingsley’s shoulder while a hand, which he later sees belongs to Marlene, pats him awkwardly on the top of his head.

James bites his lower lip, but it’s not enough to keep his grin at bay. He holds his friends closer and shuts his eyes, leaning into the warmth and the love he can nearly touch.

***

They barely speak during the entirety of the date.

The show has gone all out, giving them a little tour around the island in a goddamn helicopter, just to finish it at a very luxurious restaurant, the whole place reserved just for them, and a five-course meal already set on the table. After that, there’s a couple of hotel rooms waiting for them—James appreciates the fact that they’re given two, in case they decide not to share a bed, even though he wants Regulus with him. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep otherwise.

The food is incredibly good. It’s been a while since James had the time to go to a proper restaurant, and he wishes he could enjoy it. Not only because he hates to waste such an amazing meal, but also because this is, technically, his first date with Regulus. He’s been dreaming about being able to take the other man out almost since they started this whole thing. And yet, their current situation feels bittersweet.

James gets full after only a handful of bites; the only reason he manages to finish a couple of plates is because Regulus insists on it. James has a hard time denying him on a good day, and tonight he can’t even consider putting up a fight, no matter how much his stomach protests.

There’s no conversation while they eat, just like there wasn’t one back in the helicopter. James had spent the whole trip with a hand resting on Regulus’ thigh, and Regulus had leant his head on his shoulder, but that had been all.

For this, their ankles are firmly hooked around each other under the table, because despite the silence, they need to be constantly touching, to be sure that they’re both there, together.

James has caught a waiter or two giving them weird looks, probably unnerved by the quiet, by the way in which they’re both playing with the food left on their plates, exchanging a glance here and there. He wishes he could explain, but what would be the point, really? It’s not like they’d understand.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even understand it himself.

At some point, Regulus kicks him softly, and when their gazes meet, they both nod at the same time. After that, they get up, and James lets the nearest waiter know that they’re done with the meal, that they’d like to get some rest. The man blinks at him, eyes jumping from the unfinished plates on their table to James and then back to the table. James, however, doesn’t budge, and after a few moments, the waiter tilts his head and tells him someone will be there to pick them up soon.

He and Regulus wait at the entrance, hands intertwined and shoulders grazing.

Once they make it to the hotel, Regulus hesitates in front of what’s meant to be his room, fingers attempting to wrap around the door handle but retreating at the last second. Before he has the chance to try again, James steps closer, hand wrapping gently around Regulus’ wrist and pulling slightly, smiling when the other man goes easily, lips parted.

James brings him inside his room, and even though it takes him a beat, Regulus relaxes eventually, exploring the room a little before he opens the wardrobe in search of some clothes to sleep in.

They change around each other comfortably, but still without saying a single word. James settles on a pair of sweats and no shirt, while Regulus sticks with his briefs and a big shirt that James is almost sure is his own. It looks mildly familiar, and the sight is enough to calm him down a little. He adores seeing the other man wearing his clothes, and on a day like this, it’s exactly what James needs.

When Regulus slips into the toilet, James follows suit, tangling his fingers on the back of the other man’s shirt. They wash their teeth right next to each other and then head to bed together, always keeping their bodies as close as possible.

Once they’re both under the sheets, James doesn’t waste a moment and slides towards Regulus, searching for the peace only the other man’s touch can provide him. Regulus opens his arms automatically, one of his hands burying itself in James’ curls as soon as he puts his head on his chest, untangling every knot carefully and scratching at his scalp.

It usually helps James fall asleep, his entire body going lax while he allows Regulus’ caresses to lull him to sleep. Except he’s a bit too aware that it won’t be as simple tonight, no matter how tender Regulus is, or how safe he feels between the other man’s arms.

The room is dark, only punctuated with the sounds of Regulus’ soft breathing and some rustling when either of them move or shift. James blinks, trying to get used to the lack of light, eyes scanning around the room while he does his best to identify every object he made a mental note of when they first went in.

It’s a good distraction, but unfortunately, it doesn’t make him any sleepier.

Regulus pulls slightly at his curls in between sweet caresses, as if he’s attempting to ground them both, reminding them that they’re real and that they have each other, even if it may be just for tonight. It sends tingle after tingle down James’ spine, and for some reason, ends with his cock stirring slowly in his pants. Maybe it’s the proximity, maybe it’s because of how often they’ve fooled around this past week. Or maybe it’s because Regulus has the habit of pulling at his hair whenever they make out, or James makes him feel good.

He has to admit that he’s a little surprised. James has been in such a weird mood all day that he didn’t think his body would be capable of getting excited like this, regardless of how attracted to Regulus he is. But then again, it’s not like he has a lot of control over that part of his body. And considering how tense he’s been all day, how much both he and Regulus have been touching, maybe it makes sense. Maybe it was bound to happen.

Regulus is gracious enough to not say anything about it. He doesn’t even acknowledge it, really, even though there’s no way he can’t feel it, with James pressed up against him, not allowing a sliver of space in between. Regulus simply carries on with the scratches on James’ scalp, his breathing startlingly soft, heart beating steadily under James’ ear.

It’s not uncomfortable. Sure, his body craves some relief, something to help get rid of some of that tension, but James could stay like this if he wanted. He could wait for his lower half to calm down on its own and eventually fall asleep to Regulus’ touch, to the movements of his chest during every inhale and every exhale.

Except, James isn’t sure if that is what he wants, regardless of how safe he feels right now. Because if this genuinely is their last night together, if this is, maybe, but hopefully not, a genuine goodbye, he might as well make it count.

“Reg?” James says in a murmur, tilting his head up, squinting his eyes until he can finally distinguish some of Regulus’ familiar features.

“Yeah?” the other man hums, voice a bit hoarse from disuse. He sounds a little tired, but not like he’s about to sleep.

“Can we—” James starts, but he has to stop to clear his throat slightly. He also shifts a little, pressing his erection more firmly against Regulus’ hip. “Can we do something tonight?”

The other man looks down at him, mouth parted. “Baby, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he assures him with a nod. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, we can just go to sleep. Or try, at least.”

“I want to,” Regulus tells him, and the darkness makes it hard to tell, but James is sure he’s fighting off a smile. He thinks it’s the first one he’s seen on Regulus today. “I just—I don’t want you to feel forced. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t care that this is a date, or that we—”

“Reg,” James interrupts him softly, a hand climbing up, until it’s resting against the other man’s cheek. “This isn’t about that. I genuinely want to. I—I need to have you, tonight.”

Regulus leans into the contact. “Of course. What did you have in mind?”

James’ gaze is downcast, his fingers spasming where they’re resting on the side of Regulus’ face. James can feel the other man’s gaze on him as he squirms, some heat rushing to his cheeks.

“I was wondering…” James mumbles, biting down on his bottom lip and suddenly very grateful for the lack of lighting. “I was wondering if you’ll fuck me this time.”

Regulus goes stiff for a second before suddenly straightening up, jostling James with the movement and dragging a tiny noise out of him.

“What?” Regulus questions, tone strained.

“We don’t have to!” James rushes to say as he leans away from the other man, sitting up with both hands raised. “It was just a suggestion. I should’ve asked first, I know, but I didn’t know—”

“Shut up, James, yes, we have to,” Regulus snaps, and James would’ve flinched if it weren’t for the absence of anger in his words.

“You—you want to?”

“Yes? In what world wouldn’t I want to?”

“I mean, I don’t know. You’ve never mentioned—”

“Because this is all so new for you. I didn’t wanna scare you off, or pressure you into anything. I was already worried we were going too fast—”

“No,” James denies nearly immediately with a few shakes of his head. “Not at all. I’ve loved everything we’ve done so far. Being with you is… It’s just easy, you know?”

Regulus visibly relaxes at this, and then he’s scooting closer, his hand reaching blindly until it finds James’. He covers it with his own.

“I know. It’s the same for me,” Regulus confesses, almost managing to make James grin. “But I don’t want you think that we have to do this simply because it’s—because we might not—”

Regulus’ voice cracks at the end, unable to finish his sentence, and James shushes him sweetly, sliding even closer.

“I promise it’s not about that. I’ve been considering it for… for a while.”

The other man cocks his head to the right, and he squeezes James’ hand briefly. “Yeah?” he wonders in a murmur.

“Yeah,” James admits, a bit embarrassed for some reason. “I didn’t bring it up because I was—nervous, I guess, and I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it, and you have so much more experience in this than I do—”

“James, darling, you’re rambling,” Regulus cuts him off, mildly amused. James ducks his head now, feeling his whole face burn. “I’m very much into it, okay? You have no idea of how much I’ve imagined how it’d be like to fuck you. To be inside you.”

He lets out a pitiful sound, one that sounds too close to a whimper.

“And besides,” Regulus goes on, tapping him lightly on the chin so he looks back up. “Me having more experience just means that I’m gonna make sure you feel very good.”

James sways forward without a second thought, his nose grazing the other man’s and their lips touching for a brief, blissful second. James can feel Regulus’ smile against his mouth before the other man pulls away, reaching behind him to switch on the small lamp on his nightstand.

He opens the drawer and sticks a hand inside, Regulus’ eyes never leaving while James blinks a few times, trying to get used to the sudden light pouring into the room.

“You really want to do this?” Regulus asks one more time, stilling his movements.

“Yes,” James tells him, and there’s no mistaking the honesty in his words. The excitement. “Please, Reg.”

The other man finally pulls his hand out of the drawer, a small bottle of something—James takes a moment to realise it’s lube—resting on his palm.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Regulus says gently, and then he’s moving closer, pushing James back into the bed until he’s lying down, Regulus is hovering over him.

Regulus is gentle and careful with him. It doesn’t take him long to undress James, considering he’s barely wearing any clothes, but even after he’s naked under him, Regulus doesn’t jump straight into it. He spends some time just kissing him everywhere in his body, leaving a mark here and there, but always making sure they’re in hidden places, or spots that James won’t have any trouble hiding. It’s hot, and possessive, and James loves the feeling of belonging, of being owned, but the gesture is so mindful at the same time that it only serves to make his heart flutter.

When Regulus seems content with his amount of worshipping, James already panting and more than a little hard, Regulus takes him in his mouth.

It’s then that James actually realises how wounded he had been, how rigid and stressed, crying out in pleasure as soon as Regulus wraps his pretty lips around the head of his cock. James can barely keep his eyes open, too overwhelmed, but he still makes an effort, needing to watch the other man, regardless of the whole thing being far from new.

Regulus’ movements are teasing, licking at the pre-come beading at his head and tongue lapping at the sides. Even when he opens wide and begins to bob his head up and down, eyes wide and never leaving James’ face, he’s slow and thorough, offering some relief but never enough for James to actually feel like he’s going to get anywhere. It has him writhing on the bed, skin burning and toes curled. James’ hands grip the sheets underneath him, and he focuses on not bucking his hips, on not grabbing Regulus’ by the hair and pushing his head down.

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t hear the sound of a cap being opened. He doesn’t even notice a finger entering him until it’s already inside.

“Ah, Reg—” James whines, tilting his head back and back arching a little.

Regulus pulls away from his cock with a pop, using his free hand to stroke him lazily while he watches him with half-lidded eyes.

“Okay?” he asks, lips twitching.

“Yeah,” James gasps, nodding a couple of times. “It feels a bit weird, but not—not in a bad way.”

Regulus chuckles. “I get what you mean. But do let me know if it hurts at any point, or if you need a break.”

“Will do.”

He seems satisfied by this answer, and a second later, he’s swallowing James’ length once again, this time choosing to be more merciful and moving a little faster. His tongue twirls around the head almost at the same time as his slick finger thrusts inside James, whose eyes flutter closed against his will, mouth opening in a moan.

He isn’t sure how long it takes, but James does notice when a second finger joins the first. Again, the sensation is a bit foreign, but there is no pain or discomfort, so he doesn’t ask Regulus to stop, heat building steadily both at the feeling of warmth and wet enveloping his cock and at the thought of Regulus’ fingers being inside of him, pushing in and out with surprising ease.

There is a slight burn when the two fingers turn into three, but it isn’t enough for James to protest, and it’s not like he’s against a little pain here and there during sex. Regulus makes him forget about it almost immediately, anyway, with the way he swallows around James’ cock, the tip hitting the back of his throat and dragging a needy whine out of him. When their gazes meet after that, James notices some tears gathering at Regulus’ eyes, and he reaches out clumsily to wipe them, chest heaving.

“Wanna fuck my throat, baby?” Regulus question after pulling away once more, voice an absolute wreck. James doesn’t know what makes his cock twitch, if it’s the question or how destroyed Regulus sounds.

“Can I?” he wonders, a bit in awe.

“I don’t know, can you?” Regulus retorts drily, an eyebrow arched. James grins at him. “Just do it, yeah? I’ll tap you on the thigh three times if I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

James snorts. “C’mon, don’t be so dramatic. You’re pretty skilled, and I don’t think you’ve gagged any time you’ve blown me—”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re quite big,” Regulus says with a shrug, and James feels himself blush, averting his gaze while he bites the inside of his cheek. “Thick, too.”

“Shut up,” James groans, stupidly embarrassed about this whole thing. It’s not the first time Regulus has made a comment like this, and it’s so fucking ridiculous, but James can’t help but get a little shy. Even now, after everything they’ve done. “I feel like I should apologise—”

“Why? This isn’t me complaining. It’s the opposite, really—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, we’re getting sidetracked. Let’s just get to it.”

Regulus huffs, but the noise is coated in amusement. For a moment, James is convinced that he’s going to make another comment, tease him some more, but in the end, Regulus shifts, accommodating himself better between James’ spread legs, and then he opens his mouth wide, leaning forward until the tip of James’ cock is resting on his tongue.

He raises both eyebrows after a beat of James not doing anything and just staring like an idiot, and that’s what finally spurs him into action. He tangles his fingers on Regulus’ curls and then pushes his head down, forcing his mouth up and down his length, going for a gentle rhythm at the beginning before slowly but surely quickening the pace.

After a couple of minutes of this, Regulus also resumes his own thrusts, three fingers entering James once again and fucking him in time with the bobs of his head.

James couldn’t tell you how long it is until it finally happens. He’s too busy chasing his own pleasure, moving his hips to fucki into Regulus’ throat while getting used to fingers thrusting into his hole, but at some point, the other man curls his digits just right as he pushes a bit harder and a bit deeper, and stars explode behind James’ eyes.

He’s coming half a second later, a strangled sound making its way past his throat and back arching so much it hurts.

Regulus swallows it with a content hum, still moving his head and his hand while James rides out his orgasm. By the time James’ body relaxes and he manages to focus his gaze on the other man, his limbs feel like jelly, and his sight remains a bit blurry around the edges.

“Fuck, sorry,” James pants, blinking furiously in an attempt to get rid of the daze he seems to have fallen in. “I should’ve warned you—”

“It’s fine. I can tell you didn’t have the time,” Regulus says, sounding quite smug. Not like James can blame him, that was probably the best orgasm he’s had in his entire life.

“I didn’t know it felt like that,” James tells him, still trying to catch his breath. “It was so—so fucking good—”

“Oh, I’m very much aware, baby,” Regulus murmurs with a soft laugh. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“But I didn’t—I didn’t mean to come so fast,” James grumbles, voice going a little quiet as what just happened starts to catch up to him.

Regulus smiles sweetly at him, before leaning down to drop a kiss on the side of his hip, the hand he wasn’t using to fuck James patting his belly comfortably, fingers playing with all the hair there.

“Nothing wrong with that, baby.” Regulus drops another kiss. “Many people come after having their prostates touched for the first time.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You don’t mind, then?”

“Of course I don’t mind. It was very hot. And my only goal here was to make you feel good, so mission accomplished.”

James finally feels some of the shame leave him, the corners of his mouth curling upwards as he stares at his wonder of a boy.

“I still want you to fuck me,” he says, determination filling him once again, especially with how his words make colour rush to the other man’s cheeks.

“You sure? I don’t mind stopping here. You already came, and I got to finger you.” Regulus shrugs. “I’m satisfied.”

“Very sure. I want more, Reg.”

The other man inhales sharply, and then he nods once, a hungry glint appearing in his eyes, gaze darkening.

James doesn’t remember a lot from there on.

He remembers how it felt when Regulus first pushed inside him, wearing no condom at James’ request. He remembers the sting, the burn, and the feeling of being filled to the brim. He remembers the sound Regulus made once he was completely sheathed inside, the moan low and torn from his throat with nothing short of desperation.

James also remembers when the dull ache shifted into pleasure, when he begged Regulus to go faster and how the other man decided to tease him instead, keeping a steady but too slow pace while James whined and did his best to fuck himself against Regulus’ cock to no avail.

There’s the stars behind his eyelids, too. The first graze of the other man’s member against his prostate. The fucking wail that left his gaping mouth.

Regulus pulling out for a moment and instructing him to turn onto his stomach. Regulus’ body enveloping him as he thrusted inside him once again, forehead resting on the back of James’ neck. Regulus’ pace becoming erratic, nearly feral, until James could do nothing but lie there and take it, tears falling down his cheeks and sight blurry because of how good he felt.

Himself moaning, and pleading and sobbing, reaching behind him to grip Regulus, needing even more of his touch. Scratching at the other’s skin, pressing closer, whimpering pathetically every time Regulus whispered teasing words into his ears, making fun of his neediness, James’ cock becoming impossibly hard, leaking all over the sheets.

He doesn’t remember, however, when or how he came. James can’t tell if Regulus reached under him to wrap his hand around his cock and bring him to orgasm, or if he came completely untouched. He only remembers a blinding pleasure, Regulus pulling viciously at his hair and then his vision going white.

He does remember that by the time he’d returned back to himself, he saw a puddle of come right under him, staining both the sheets and his belly. That, and the sensation of being full even after Regulus pulled out of him, come dripping out of his hole and trailing down his thighs, dragging a whine out of him as he clenched around nothing.

James thinks he understands now why Regulus seems to be into having him coming inside, regardless of how gross it starts to feel after a while.

They wash up as best as they can once they’re done, but they’re too tired to do so properly, so when Regulus slips under the sheets, dropping the wet cloth carelessly onto the floor, James doesn’t say anything about it. He simply slides under the covers alongside him, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist and hiding his face in his curls. He inhales, the scent of sweat and sex and something citrusy filling his senses while Regulus cuddles even closer, his own arms covering James’.

Sleep comes easy after that.

***

Seeing Lily walk towards him feels a bit like a fever dream. This is what he had been waiting for since the very beginning, since they first said goodbye and promised each other to come back to each other.

When their gazes meet, Lily’s green eyes promising nothing but war, James comes to the conclusion that this must be more of a nightmare than anything else.

She looks absolutely stunning in a loose white dress, her red hair falling in perfect waves over one of her shoulders. She’s wearing some makeup, even though she’s never been a fan; some glittery eyeshadow to highlight her long lashes and the bright green of her eyes, a soft pink tint to her lips and then a faint blush, although that might be due to the anger. Lily’s expression remains controlled, eerily calm, but James knows her like the back of his hand. He can tell she’s pissed. He can tell she came here ready to fight.

He stands up from his seat unconsciously, his heart skipping a beat with every step she moves closer. James opens his arms a little and takes a step towards her, because despite everything that’s happened, he still cares about her. He still loves her with every part of himself, and he has missed her so, so much.

But Lily walks right past him, not bothering to spare him a glance, a single sign of acknowledgement. She sits down in her assigned seat, right beside James, all her focus on Pandora. And James is left there, body completely still, twisted in an unfinished embrace, his blood turning cold inside his veins.

Yeah, he supposes he deserved that.

“Welcome, Lily and James, to your final Bonfire,” Pandora states, spreading her arms wide, her expression grave. She’s wearing a black suit tonight, the tie the same crimson as her lips, and James believes this might be the most intimidating she’s ever looked. “Before we get started with the clips, is there anything you’d like to say? Something you want to tell each other?”

Pandora has barely finished speaking when Lily is twisting her body around, face thunderous as she confronts James. He winces unconsciously; he isn’t scared of Lily, no matter how fierce she can be when she’s angry. James has never had any issues standing up to her, not the kind to cower from an argument or some yelling. The difference, however, is that now, and when it comes to this, he’s in the wrong. He’s the one who fucked up so terribly Lily won’t even touch him.

James can straighten up or lift his chin proudly, because all he feels is shame and guilt and pain.

“Why,” Lily asks, but it doesn’t really sound like a question. It’s a demand, and the coldness in her voice makes James want to shiver.

“Lils—” James tries after gulping.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she snaps, eyes narrowing. “You’ve lost the right to call me that. Now stop looking at me like a kicked puppy and tell me why.”

“Lily, I’m so sorry—”

“Why would you do that to me? To us? Why would you fuck someone else behind my back? In a fucking dating show, too, where everyone can see? Do you even understand how embarrassing that feels?”

James feels himself grow smaller with every word that slips past Lily’s pursed lips, fingers twitching and gripping the cotton of his slacks until it wrinkles under his contact, until his nails are probably leaving marks on his thighs.

“Was it so hard to hold yourself back? To wait until the end, to talk to me and tell me you had been struggling? That maybe this wasn’t working?” Lily says, making a violent gesture between their bodies. Her eyes are burning, and James is beginning to fear he might catch on fire if she keeps to glare at him like that. “You know, I did have some concerns, some doubts about you and our relationship, but never in my wildest dreams would I have expected you to fucking cheat on me.”

“I didn’t mean to, Lily,” James rushes to intervene, shaking his head furiously, raising both hands almost like he’s trying to calm down a feral beast. “I didn’t—it wasn’t planned—”

“Well, I sure hope not,” she scoffs, the noise filled with disdain.

James shakes his head again. “What I mean is that I didn’t even realise it until it was too late. I don’t know what you’ve seen—”

“Enough,” Lily cuts him off sharply. “I’ve seen enough, James. Me and the rest of England. What do you think your parents are gonna say when we get out of here? After having to watch their son act like that?”

“No, that’s not—” James whispers, doubling over, the reminder that he and Regulus have never gotten a single moment of privacy—that all the intimacy they’ve shared has been televised for everyone to watch and dissect and judge—making him feel like he’s been kicked ruthlessly in the gut.

And his parents—fuck, James hadn’t even considered his parents. The fact that they’ve been following the show because they wanted to support him and Lily, hoping that once they came out of it together, it’d make them stronger, more secure. That it’d end up with the confirmation of marriage.

Oh, James can take a lot of things, but disappointing his parents isn’t one of them.

“Why, James?” she asks once again in a snarl, leaning forward, her heels digging into the wooden floor underneath. “You keep trying to excuse yourself, but you haven’t given me a goddamn reason.”

“There’s—there isn’t one,” James admits in a croak, watching Lily close herself off, the fury in her expression giving way to coldness. Almost indifference. “That night me and Reg kissed—”

“You kissed him,” Lily corrects him flatly, and somehow, James manages to nod with a gulp, gaze downcast.

“Okay,” James murmurs, squirming on his stool. “That night I kissed him, I wasn’t even sure of what I felt, or what was going on, I just—I realised I was seriously attracted to him during the game—”

“Oh, yeah, I think everyone saw how hard that stupid ice cube got you,” Lily comments boredly. The lack of emotion in her tone is even worse than when she had been screaming at him.

“It’s not like I wanted to get turned on—”

“Really? Because you looked like you were having a great time. Especially when you made out with him in his room—”

“Well, I wasn’t,” James snaps slightly, raising his head just to catch Lily squinting her eyes at him. “I wasn’t, Lily. I spent the next day throwing up nonstop, I couldn’t sleep because of fucking panic attacks and me and Reg—we didn’t speak to each other for days—”

“I haven’t seen any of that—” she protests, some wrinkles beginning to cover her forehead, all her freckles twisting where she’s wrinkling her nose.

“You shouldn’t have to! You know me!”

“I thought I did! But the James I knew would never be unfaithful—”

“I made a mistake! I can admit that much! But this past week hasn’t been easy for me either, Lily. I wasn’t even aware I liked men!”

“Boo fucking hoo!” Lily scoffs, her nails digging into the skin of her biceps. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not capable of offering any kind of sympathy. There are other, better ways to deal with a sexuality crisis—”

“Sure, when you’re not trapped in a fucking island and isolated from the rest of the world—”

“The thing is, James, that it would’ve been fine if you had stopped after that first kiss,” Lily sighs, tone filled with exhaustion. “I mean, it would’ve been the end of our relationship regardless, but I would’ve been able to understand. Especially when it was so obvious that the situation had taken you by surprise. But it didn’t stop there. You didn’t stop there. You had to go and fuck him. Time and time again—”

“What was the point in not doing it? The damage was already done—”

“What was the point?” Lily laughs, but it’s void of any amusement, the noise ugly and cruel. “The point was the so-called love you have for me. The point was keeping the pain to a minimum. The point was being a decent human being—”

“I’m sorry!” James explodes, running both hands through his hair, pulling at the strands until his scalp stings. “I’m sorry, okay!? What else do you want from me? I fucked up and there’s nothing I can do to change that. I can’t take it back. I can only apologise and hope you know I feel—”

“Would you take it back?” Lily questions quietly. “If you could?”

James falters, and the time it takes him to reply seems to be enough of an answer for her. “I’m not—I don’t—”

“I see.” Lily nods, almost to herself. “You really don’t give a fuck.”

“When did I say that?” James huffs out.

“You didn’t have to, I could—”

“Okay, I’m afraid we’re getting a little derailed here,” Pandora interrupts them, tone firm despite the little grin pulling at her lips. “It’s clear you’re both missing some information, so what do you say we finally start with the Bonfire and I shed some light on this little mess we have in our hands, hmm?”

For some reason, Lily’s face softens, and she’s quick to turn around, facing Pandora as she gives a little nod. She even uncrosses her arms, resting her hands on her lap and interlacing her fingers. James can’t help but blink at her profile, more than a little confused.

She’s one of the smartest people he knows. Has she not realised how much of a manipulative cunt Pandora is just yet?

“I guess,” James ends up agreeing through gritted teeth.

Pandora clasps her hands together, her smile widening the slightest bit before she moves to the side, allowing them to have a better view of the stupid table that’s been haunting James’ dreams.

He isn’t sure of what kind of videos the crew and Pandora have selected for their final Bonfire, but he has no doubt that they’ll be as damning as possible.

James isn’t ready. It’s one thing to acknowledge your mistakes and face their consequences, and another to be forced to watch you make them, to be forced to relive them, sitting beside the main person who’s been hurt by them. He barely ate anything during dinner, even though Regulus forced him to at least have something, but he’s still worried he might end up puking his guts out.

“Some of the clips I’m gonna show you you’ll already be familiar with,” Pandora explains, pointing to the tablet with a move of her head. “You’ll see them together so you can discuss and explain how or why they happened in the first place. But a lot of the images I’m gonna show you are completely new, and are meant to aid you in the difficult decision you must make tonight. Will you leave the island together, alone, or with a new love?”

James swallows thickly, his tongue feeling heavy, like sand inside his mouth. He chances a glance at Lily, catches her sitting a bit straighter, a sudden tension surrounding her frame while she purses her lips. He sort of wants her to look back at him, give him a sign that not everything is completely lost, that forgiveness is still possible, even if there’s no hope for their relationship.

But Lily continues to stare straight ahead, gaze never leaving the screen, and James ends up following suit, pressure heavy in his chest as he waits for the video to start.

Pandora waits a handful of excruciating seconds, and then, out of nowhere, the tablet turns on, a clip playing. It doesn’t take James long to realise that it’s of Lily.

It’s dark, probably late at night considering there doesn’t seem to be anyone in the living room apart from Lily and Barty. They’re together on one of the couches and they’re cuddling, his arm wrapped around her while her head rests on his chest. It’s innocent enough, James has cuddled like that with both Emma and the guys, so there’s nothing incriminating at first sight, but it still makes James clench his jaw.

They’re talking quietly, and they both look like they’re about to fall asleep. The conversation is casual and inconsequential at the beginning, speaking about the last party, about Mary and Fabian. But then, somehow, it switches to James and his relationship with Lily.

He has to hear her talk about how she isn’t as comfortable as she used to be with what they have, how actually upsetting that date night where he asked her to marry him was for her and the way it left her full of hesitation. Apparently, Lily isn’t sure if James is the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with, and she doubts she’ll pick to leave the show with him once it’s all over.

Barty, of course, the fucking asshole, indulges her and agrees with everything she says and even encourages her to leave James. He begins to get way too bold with his touches, taking advantage of the fact that Lily is feeling vulnerable and tired, and then it changes to a different clip, one James is pretty sure he’s seen before.

He has no fucking idea. He doesn’t process anything after that first video.

When it’s over, he shifts in his seat, with the intention to face Lily properly, to ask for an explanation. The moment she finally turns too, she has her chin lifted high, and there’s a challenge shining in her eyes, as if she’s daring him to say something.

Oh, James can’t fucking believe her sometimes.

“You came here acting so bloody self-righteous, treating me like I’m a liar, like I’m not the person you thought I was,” he begins, surprising even himself with how calm he sounds. “What’s that all about then, hmm?”

“Are you seriously gonna compare a little chat I had with a friend when I was feeling low and helpless with actual cheating?” Lily counters with a huff.

“I’m not trying to compare, but you never told me you were feeling like that.”

“How could I? We were unable to communicate—”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit.” James rolls his eyes. “That one date night happened ages ago. We talked about it so many times, I thought we fixed it, I thought you understood—”

“I thought so too!” Lily exclaims. “But after being isolated like that and getting some time to think on my own… Well, I realised it had hurt me more than I thought. During those months before coming to the show things were quite tense between us, I know you noticed too—”

“Of course I did! Because you wouldn’t fucking talk to me!”

Lily’s eyebrow tug together, and she leans back a little, almost like she’s doing a double take. “And you did?” she questions, looking James up and down.

“Um, yes?” James answers, hating how hesitant the words come out. “I’ve always made sure to communicate, to let you know if something was bothering me—”

“That’s such bullshit,” she scoffs loudly with a shake of her head. “You love to pretend that everything’s fine. That we’re doing well and our relationship is nearly perfect—”

“That’s not true,” James murmurs, a muscle spasming at the side of his jaw.

“Yes, it fucking is! I knew the marriage thing was taking a toll on you, but you assured me it was okay, and changed the topic every time I tried to bring it up—”

“It is okay—”

“Really? Then why did you propose? You were aware of my thoughts on the subject, you promised to respect my boundaries, but you—”

“I don’t know!” James yells, startling Lily in the process, her eyes widening as she stares up to him, blinking rapidly. “I don’t know, okay? I wasn’t lying when I told you I didn’t wanna get married. I didn’t feel ready either.”

“Then why? Why spring that shit on me, knowing my thoughts on the matter, knowing it was bound to make me uncomfortable and put a strain on our relationship—” Lily questions, fingers twitching in her lap until they almost resemble claws.

“I told you, I don’t know.” James slips his hands after his glasses, which are already sitting askew on his nose. “I just—I guess it hurt me more than I realised, too.”

Lily’s frown worsens. “What? All the marriage talk?”

“No, not that. The fact that…” James pauses for a moment and swallows, gaze lowering until it’s fixed on his lap. “That you didn’t seem to want to marry me.”

There’s only silence for a beat, and when James lifts his head slightly to peek at Lily’s expression, he’s surprised to find her a little affected. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and her eyes seem to have softened considerably.

“James,” she sighs deeply after a bit, averting her gaze. “It was never about that—”

“Except it kinda was,” he cuts her off more harshly than intended. “All the time we talked about it, you kept saying that you didn’t wanna marry me. You never said that you weren’t ready just yet, or that you simply didn’t want marriage. I was always the problem.”

Lily opens her mouth, but not a single sound comes out of it. She ends up having to close it once again, her hands clenched on her lap, fingers gripping onto her dress.

“I didn’t—” she begins, eerily quiet. “I never meant to make you feel that way.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” James presses, his heart feeling like it’s being twisted between his ribs. “It was because of me all along.”

When Lily finally manages to meet his gaze again, her green eyes are a bit too bright, and the fight starts leaving James’ body, shoulders sagging and the corners of his eyes beginning to itch.

“I—” Lily says, voice breaking.

“Sorry to interrupt once more,” Pandora speaks up, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. James is sure that she’s having the time of her life, seeing them at each other’s throats, coming undone for her sick pleasure. “But there’s a few more videos I need to show you both tonight.”

Lily wipes discreetly under her eyes and nods a couple times, taking a deep breath before her attention returns to the tablet.

James has no other choice but to comply, too.

This time, the images are his. Lily doesn’t give much of a reaction, as if she’s familiar with every clip presented to them. There’s James and Regulus speaking in the kitchen, James and Regulus cuddling on the couch, James and Regulus playing the ice cube game.

He winces a little at that one, eyes fleeting from the screen to Lily, but her face doesn’t give anything away as she watches, nothing but cold indifference in her expression.

And then, suddenly, there’s a clip of them in the hot tub.

James’ eyebrows shoot up, and an uncomfortable heat starts to climb up his neck while he sees himself and Regulus undress before they get in the water.

Lily has gone completely stiff, and it doesn’t take James long to realise she probably hasn’t seen this. It happened this week, so there hadn’t been any Bonfires before this one. Lily probably still believes that James kept a modicum of decency, that there was a line he hadn’t crossed, even if it didn’t mean much, in the grand scheme of things. He and Regulus have had sex, with or without penetration, and more than once at that. This shouldn’t make much of a difference.

But James feels nearly violated, being forced to watch such an intimate moment in front of Lily, knowing that everything is being recorded, that everyone has a front row seat for one of James’ first times. To something that was always meant to be private, just for him and for Regulus to live and remember.

Some colour begins to fill Lily’s freckled cheeks, and James isn’t sure if it’s the embarrassed or furious kind, but he can guess when he realises her left eye has also started twitching.

James has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than right now.

He can’t take it. He can’t look, can’t even listen, the urge to cover his ears and shut his eyes tight, like a child in the middle of a tantrum, clawing at his insides. No one should be listening to Regulus’ moans, to the way he says James’ name. No one should be bearing witness to what they shared that night, what they gave to each other. No one but them.

This is a memory he thought very fondly of, a memory he treasured despite the turmoil it still causes him sometimes, a memory of something he is glad he did, even if it had been a decision he’d made in the heat of the moment, even if James had swore to himself he’d never, not until he had talked to Lily first. Now, though, it’s become tainted. Horrifying. It’s making James want to retch, to delete every echo of it from inside his mind.

The clip is still playing, even though it’s clear that some parts have been cut, when Lily whirls around, frantic eyes searching all over James’ face. She’s so red he fears she might just explode.

“In the fucking hot tub?” she whispers, and James flinches as if hit. “Seriously, James?”

“I was—” he begins, but a particularly loud noise coming from the tablet interrupts him briefly. James wants to fucking die. “We were both drunk, we weren’t thinking clearly—”

“Oh, believe me, that much it’s obvious,” Lily says in a mix between a scoff and a snort. “You didn’t have the decency to do it under the covers. You had to do it in plain bloody sight—”

“It was dark, and we were alone—” James tries to protest weakly.

“Anyone could’ve walked in!” Lily roars, features twisted in such rage even James is momentarily scared. “Everyone was still awake! It’s not enough to cheat on me on this stupid fucking show for everyone to see, you also had to fuck him in the bloody hot tub!”

“Lily, it wasn’t—”

“You’re unbelievable. Un fucking believable, James.” Lily shakes her head with a derisive laugh. “I had no idea you had an exhibitionism streak. I’m learning so many new things about you here.”

“Lily—”

“Is that why you did it? Because our sex life wasn’t exciting enough for you? You could’ve just told me, you know? Although, I suppose I should’ve realised, considering you barely touched me the past few months.”

“Neither of us were in the mood, you can’t pin all the blame on me—”

“Except I can,” Lily snaps. The video is still playing, and James is making an active effort to not focus on it, to put all his attention on Lily. He needs it to be over soon or he’s going to lose his shit. “After what you’ve done, I can. How could I be in the mood when every time we tried you acted like it was a fucking chore?”

“That’s not—” James murmurs, lowering his head a little.

“How do you think it feels to watch you fuck someone else like that when I can barely remember what being intimate with you felt like?” Her voice cracks a bit at the end, and James wishes he knew any way to comfort her. He wishes he still had the right to at least try. “I didn’t want to think it was me, I kept telling myself that it was because of our issues and that it could be fixed. Imagine my face when I saw you throw yourself to the first pretty boy who opened his legs for you—”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” James blurts out unconsciously, some of his previous anger making an appearance.

She arches an eyebrow as her lips curl into a mocking smirk. “Like what? Like he’s a slut? Because that’s certainly how he’s been acting.”

“Lily,” James says in warning, jaw clenched.

“Look at you, getting all protective,” she coos, grin widening. She tilts her head for a moment, chancing a glance at the screen. “I gotta give it to you, he sounds very pretty. And so needy, too. You do love to feel needed.”

James purses his lip, unable to follow the line of Lily’s gaze, unable to continue watching that clip.

“Oh, come on, James, don’t be such a coward,” she goes on. “Face what you did. If I have to see it, then so do you.”

He winces, giving a small shake of his head. Every sound that reaches him makes his stomach turn, and he’s convinced he’s going to end up being sick before the Bonfire is over at this rate.

“James,” Lily calls him once again, her tone hardening. “Enough of this. Enough of acting like you’re a victim. You won’t get my pity, and I don’t have any sympathy to give you. You went and fucked him, now face the consequences.”

He stiffens, eyes still refusing to look away from his lap, from his shaking hands resting there.

“I want you to watch, James,” she says slowly, the order clear. “You owe me at least that much after what you’ve done.”

He attempts to comply, to lift his head, but someone gasps in the video, and James hears Regulus moan his name once again, and he just. He can’t do it. He curls into himself, feeling mildly sick, and starts counting in his mind, hoping it’ll be over soon, that Pandora will show some mercy—

“Fucking watch, James!” Lily nearly growls, and he snaps his head up, hands curling into fists and nails digging so harshly into his palms it aches.

He does. He listens to her, because she’s right. Regardless of how difficult it is for him to look at it, it’s the bare minimum James can do for her. There’s no fixing this, no way to make amends, but if Lily wants him to watch, then he’ll watch.

It’s over not too long after that, but it still feels like a fucking eternity to James. Lily’s expression is completely impassive throughout the whole video, but she wrinkles her nose here and there, the corners of her mouth permanently curled downwards.

And fortunately, once the hot tub scene finishes, James can cope with the rest a lot better. There are a few more images of him and Regulus fooling around, and them sharing James’ bed, and them stealing kisses here and there, but that’s about it. Probably nothing that Lily hasn’t seen.

Still, James doesn’t manage to inhale properly until the screen goes black, some tension abandoning his frame despite his body remaining taut like a bowstring.

Lily takes a bit longer to turn around in her seat this time. Her eyes remain fixed on the tablet for an extra few seconds, even though there’s no more images to watch, even though it’s gone dark, even though Pandora is suspiciously quiet while she stares at them both.

“Are you—?” James begins tentatively, one of his arms twitching with the need to reach out.

“No,” Lily says softly before he has the time to finish his sentence. “Regardless of what you wanna ask, the answer is still no. God, James. What have you done to us?”

James wraps his arms around himself, shutting his eyes momentarily. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you really? Or are you just sorry you got caught?”

“What?”

“You heard me. If we weren’t on this show, if everything wasn’t being recorded, would you have told me? Or would you have let it go on for who knows how long?”

“Lily,” James mutters, doing his best to meet her gaze. She seems set on looking away from him. “This would’ve never happened if we hadn’t come to this show.”

She laughs, and it’s a devastating sound, filled with sorrow instead of joy. When it dies down, Lily finally twists her body, shifting until she’s facing James.

“I don’t know if you’re really that naive or if you just think I’m an idiot,” Lily sighs.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” James retorts with a bit of a pout.

“James, if you were capable of cheating here, regardless of the circumstances, who’s to say you wouldn’t have done it outside the show?”

He blinks at her. “But I wouldn’t have met Regulus.”

“So?” she questions with a raised eyebrow.

“So, I wouldn’t have cheated.”

She cocks her head to the side, squinting at James. “What are you trying to imply here?”

“Nothing. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t—this wouldn’t have happened without Regulus in the picture.” James squirms in his stool when Lily’s eyes go even narrower.

“You can’t seriously believe that. It was him like it could’ve been that tempter, Emma, or like it could’ve been anyone else—”

“No,” James cuts her off firmly. “This isn’t—it’s not just sex.”

Lily’s eyes widen for half a second before her expression relaxes into something more teasing, something more dangerous.

“Oh?” she murmurs quietly. “Is that the excuse you’re going with?”

“It’s not an excuse,” James mutters, brows furrowing.

“No? Are you gonna tell me you love him now?”

James’ heart skips a beat and his stomach twists uncomfortably. His eyes move from Lily and find Pandora, who’s staring straight at him with an eyebrow arched and a playful smile. She gives him a subtle nod, and James looks away almost immediately, focusing on Lily once again.

“I don’t—I’m not sure.” He shakes his head gently. “But there is—I do feel something for him. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t have jeopardised what we have—had—for a mere whim. I have more self-control than that.”

Lily takes a deep breath, lifting one of her hands just to pinch the bridge of her nose. “You understand why this is so hard for me to believe, right? I’ve seen clip after clip of you snogging this guy and fucking him and basically having the time of your life without a care in the world—”

“I do understand,” James rushes to say, swallowing the hurt and the need to defend himself. “But I’m not—I wouldn’t have, Lily. No matter how much I wanted to.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, James. Not about this.”

James’ lips part, ready to explain further, try and convince her that he isn’t lying. He doesn’t think this will help in any way, but maybe it could bring Lily some peace. Maybe it’ll stop her from hating James so much, even if she doesn’t want anything to do with this after it.

But before he can get a word out, Pandora intervenes, and the screen of the tablet is turned on once again.

“I apologise for doing this again, I promise it’ll be the last time,” she tells them with a hand on her chest, right where her heart is supposed to be. James isn’t sure if he should believe her. “But I need your attention one more time. It’s vital that you both watch this before making a decision.”

Lily clicks her tongue, but obeys without protest, and for once, James isn’t too bothered by the interruption. He had never expected this conversation to go well, he isn’t that fucking naive, but he had also hoped for it to go a bit better than it currently is. Lily has always been so patient, so understanding with him. Sure, she has a temper, and has never shied away from speaking up her mind when she disagrees with something, but James doesn’t think he’s ever seen her so… Furious? Passionate? Maybe even bordering on cruel?

It’s not exactly new, or unexpected, but it also isn’t the Lily James knows and loves. He doesn’t know if he’s the reason for it, or if this experience has managed to unlock something inside Lily that she wasn’t aware was there in the first place. And now she’s leaning into it, allowing it to take over, just like James himself has done.

The screen lights up almost at the same time as James’ eyes fall upon it. And on this occasion, the video that starts seems to have a mix of both clips of him and clips of Lily.

For the majority of it, James doesn’t find anything he hasn’t seen, or that alarms him. He’s more uncomfortable about the fact that there are few images of him breaking down because of his guilt and what had happened with Regulus. He sees himself turning around in bed, rushing to the bathroom to throw up for the nth time. He sees himself arguing loudly with Peter, and then with Regulus, just for the clip to change to him crying in Regulus’ arms.

His face stays very warm throughout the entirety of it, and he has to keep looking away, cringing slightly whenever he hears himself cry or raise his voice.

Right at the end, though, there’s a brief clip of Lily and Barty. He’s walking her to her room, an arm firmly wrapped around her waist, fingers caressing way too low for James’ tastes. They stop at the threshold and say goodnight softly, standing quite close while at it. There’s a certain tension that James can feel even through the screen, and his shoulders go slightly rigid.

Barty leans forward, and Lily allows it, eyes fluttering close as he kisses her in the corner of her mouth. Not quite a peck, but also not quite an innocent kiss, his intentions very clear even if he hadn’t completely crossed the line. Lily hums sweetly, before opening her eyes and allowing her smile to widen. She seems about to speak, but then the video finishes, and the tablet goes dark once again.

When Lily returns to facing James, her expression is a little startled. But she must not like whatever it is she finds in James’ face, because she’s scowling less than a moment later.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Lily mumbles, crossing her arms. “You have no right to judge me after what you’ve done—”

“I think I have all the right, actually,” James argues, spitting every word through gritted teeth. “I can’t believe you’ve been sitting there, giving me so much shit, when you let him kiss you—”

“On the cheek!” she protests.

“That was not your cheek!” James denies, raising his voice and watching the way Lily clenches her jaw.

“It still wasn’t a proper kiss,” she insists, always so fucking stubborn. “It doesn’t count.”

“Oh, fuck you,” James scoffs, staring her up and down, unable to believe his own ears. “Yes, it does. It’s not even about it being an actual kiss or not, it’s what it means. The fact that you allowed it.”

“You’ve done worse,” she reminds him with a pointed look. “I don’t understand why you’re getting so upset over this. It was nothing—”

“But you didn’t know that! He was very clearly going to kiss you, and you fucking closed your eyes! You let him do it when you didn’t even know if he was gonna aim for your lips or somewhere else!”

Lily leans back slightly, her mouth pressed into a tight line. “Barty wouldn’t have done it. Not without my explicit permission.”

“You wanted him to kiss you,” James accuses with narrowed eyes, teeth beginning to ache from how harshly he’s gritting them.

“Yes, I did,” Lily admits, shrugging lazily, and James swears he sees red. “But I never allowed it. Never dared to indulge. That was probably the closest call we had, and it still didn’t happen. You wanna know why, James?”

He makes an effort to swallow down some of his anger, suppressing a wince when it burns the inside of his throat, spreading a fire everywhere it goes.

“Why,” he asks so flatly it doesn’t even sound like an actual question.

“Because I respect you,” she explains simply. It feels like being slapped. “Because even with all the resentment I realised I had, even with the attraction I felt for Barty, I respected you too much to even consider doing something like that to you.”

“I respect you,” is all that James can think to reply, but he stutters around the words, his whole body deflating while he struggles to hold Lily’s gaze.

She grins sharply at him. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

James sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. Lily follows the movement with bored eyes, even though it was a gesture that used to make her huff with fondness.

“I didn’t—I never meant to disrespect you,” he tells her, hoping that he can see how honest he’s being. “This wasn’t—it wasn’t about you—”

“And that’s the problem, James,” she cuts him off, and she isn’t kind about it, but she isn’t mean, either. Not like she had been, at least. “It should’ve been about me. I should’ve been in your mind the whole time. I was your girlfriend, and regardless of your emotions, or how much you wanted, that fact should’ve been enough to stop you. But it wasn’t.”

“You were my girlfriend?” James inquires in a whisper, a knot stuck in his throat that he’s unable to swallow.

She blinks at him. “You didn’t really think there was any chance of us staying together after that, did you?”

“No,” James answers sincerely. He never expected Lily to want to be with him after the cheating, and it’s not like James wanted that, either, considering his feelings have changed. But it stings a little, how easily Lily put it all behind her, how she didn’t even falter when speaking about their relationship in the past tense. “Of course not. I just—I assumed it was gonna be a lot more difficult.”

“Why? It looks pretty simple from where I stand. You fucked someone else, multiple times, while still being with me. We’re over. End of the story.”

“That’s—” James pauses to gulp, but it doesn’t help untangle the mess between his vocal chords. “That’s fair. I was hoping you’d care a bit more—”

“You think I don’t care?” Lily chuckles bitterly, shaking her head. “I’m so fucking angry I can barely see straight, and you think I don’t care?”

James shrugs, his lower lip beginning to come out slightly as he turns his head away from Lily.

“You were gonna break up with me anyway,” he mumbles, and he doesn’t even know why he’s being so petty about this, when it’s all his fault. When he’s the one who ruined everything.

He supposes that it hurts to know Lily hadn’t even been fighting for them, hoping to leave hand in hand so they could return to that life they had been building together. James has spent weeks getting upset because he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world, and because he wanted to be the kind of man Lily deserves, just to find out that she had given up on them long before James had fucked it all up.

“Sure, but I was hoping we could remain friends afterwards, because I care about you,” Lily snaps back, lips curling. “I still fucking love you, James.”

“You… You do?” he asks, blinking fast when he feels his eyes get slightly damp.

“Of course I do,” she grumbles, looking away, but her tone has turned a bit softer. James doesn’t think he would’ve noticed if it weren’t because of how well he knows Lily. “I wish I could stop at will, it’d make this whole situation a lot more bearable, but I—I just can’t. We’ve been together for so long.”

“And we were friends before we were a couple,” James adds, the beginning of a smile pulling at his mouth. The gesture is filled with sorrow.

“That, too.” Lily nods, and then she allows their gazes to meet once again. “And I know—I’m aware that you also love me still.”

“I do,” James rushes to say, way too eager.

“It’d be easier if I believed you don’t,” Lily tells him softly. “I did doubt it, especially after the last Bonfire, but those clips of you getting physically sick…” She plays with the silver bracelet on her left wrist. “I had no idea your anxiety had been that bad.”

“I mean, it makes sense that they wouldn’t show you that part—”

“Still. You told me you had been really upset and not having a great time, and I thought you were lying. Playing the victim in hopes that I’d forgive you.”

“I don’t blame you for that,” James murmurs, and he means it. Sure, it hurts a little, because it’s hard to process, that Lily of all people would see him as someone so cruel. So uncaring. But he gets it. Why would she think well of him after what he’s done?

“Very hypocritical of you to make such a scene because your friend cheated, though, just to do the exact same thing a week later,” Lily adds after a beat, and if James didn’t know any better, he’d say she sounds amused.

“Oh, trust me, the irony isn’t lost on me,” James sighs, scratching the side of his neck. “Maybe it’s some kind of karma. Divine punishment.”

“Seems fitting,” Lily agrees with a small nod. “Although, I don’t understand why I must be punished, too.”

And just like that, the brief moment they seemed to be sharing is broken, a pang of guilt assaulting James’ heart while he stares at Lily. He’s dying to reach out, his body nearly shaking with the urge, familiar with the movement to the point it feels like second nature. But he can’t. It would only make things worse, and the last thing James wants is to hurt Lily further.

He’d carry all her pain if he could.

“I’m sorry,” James says for the hundredth time tonight, pathetic and pitiful, not knowing what else he can do apart from apologising.

“I know you are,” Lily exhales. She sounds so incredibly tired. “But I don’t think I can forgive you, James.”

His eyes widen, the knot in his throat worsening. “Ever?”

“I don’t know.” Lily gives him a shrug. The gesture looks defeated. “Don’t think so.”

“Lily, please—”

“You can beg all you want, but this isn’t something I can help. They’re my feelings. And it’s already been hard enough, to sit here and look at you and talk when all I wanna do is punch you in the face.”

“You can, if it’d make you feel better.”

Lily tilts her head a little, considering, and with the way her whole body tenses up momentarily while she stares him up and down, James is convinced that he’s actually going to get hit. He braces for the impact, but then Lily relaxes once again, completely deflating, and for some reason, James finds himself disappointed.

“What’d be the the point?” Lily sighs, twirling a strand of her hair. “It wouldn’t change anything.”

“But maybe—maybe it’d help to let some of that anger out,” James suggests, hating how desperate he’s starting to sound. “Maybe it’d make it all a little easier—”

“James—” she starts like she’s talking to an especially difficult child, and James doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like the tone or what it implies.

“You said you hoped we could remain friends,” James tries, a plea shining in his eyes. Lily gives him a sad smile.

“I don’t think that’s an option anymore.”

“Why not?” James has done a surprisingly good job at keeping his tears under control. He doesn’t want to cry because he knows it’s not fair, because he knows he doesn’t have the right after what he’s put Lily through, but this… this might be the tipping point. “We still care about each other, and you know I didn’t—”

“Because I don’t know if I’m ever gonna be able to trust you again, James, not even as a friend,” Lily cuts him off swiftly, albeit not unkindly. “Because every time I look at you I think about you in that fucking hot tub, or in the kitchen, or sharing a bed with someone who isn’t me. Because I feel betrayed and ashamed and as much as I love you, I also really hate you.”

James’ bottom lip begins to quiver. “You don’t mean that.”

“I’m sorry,” Lily whispers, and the next time James blinks, a couple of tears roll down his cheeks.

“Don’t do this,” James begs her, tempted to drop to his knees. “Please.”

“When we go back home, I’m gonna need some time,” Lily tells him, her eyes also filling with tears, but still managing to keep them at bay. She’s always been stronger than him.

“How long?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe forever.”

A sob fights to tear its way out of James’ throat, but he stops it before it can make its way past his lips. It doesn’t do much, because his face is already quite wet, and his eyes itch, but it has to count for something.

“No.” James shakes his head frantically. “You can’t—”

“I can,” Lily corrects him, and she sounds too broken for her tone to be sharp or commanding. She doesn’t have any fight left in her. “I have to. I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to see you again.”

“But I love you—”

“And it’s still not enough.”

It knocks the air out of James’ lungs. “What do you—”

“James,” she calls him, the first tears dropping from her lovely green eyes. “You’ve cheated on me. Multiple times. And on national television, at that. You can’t ask me to forgive you for that.”

“That’s now what I’m trying to do here—”

“I can’t be your friend, either. We can’t just go back home and pretend all of this never happened.”

“Of course not! But eventually—”

“Eventually nothing,” Lily shuts him down without missing a beat, one of her hands coming up to rub under her eyes, careful to not smear her makeup. “You don’t get to decide how I’m gonna feel about this months or even years down the line.”

“Obviously not, but you don’t know if you—” James attempts to explain himself, getting more frustrated by the second.

“No, I don’t,” Lily concedes. “But what I do know is that I don’t want anything to do with you. Not now, and not anytime soon. And I refuse to sit here and give you false hope when I have no idea if I’m ever gonna be able to look you in the face without feeling fucking sick to my stomach.”

This time, James is unable to stop a sob from coming out, another following right after. His sight goes blurry, Lily turning into a mess of red and green and pain as he doubles over himself, arms wrapping around his body with the need to find some comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Lily murmurs in barely a whisper. Her tone is a little wobbly, and James shakes his head. She shouldn’t have to apologise, no matter how much it hurts. “What are we gonna do about the flat, and—”

“You keep it,” James stutters through his cries. “I’ll stay with Sirius and Remus until I find something else. Or with my parents, if they’ll… if they’ll still have me.”

“I’m sure they will,” Lily says, and she sounds genuine. James doesn’t have that much faith. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure. It’s—I got it for you. I mean, it was for us, but you wanted—”

“I get it. Thank you.”

James shakes his head again, hiding his face between his palms. He presses the heels of his hands harshly against his closed eyes, but it does nothing to stop the tears or to dull the pain he feels under every centimetre of skin.

“So I guess this is—this is it,” James hiccups, words muffled against his hands. “This is—the end.”

“I guess it is,” Lily agrees quietly. She tries to hide her sniffles, but James hears them anyway. They only make him cry even harder.

“Can I—” he begins, but his voice breaks right at the end. He has to pause, take a shuddering breath, and then try again. “Can I have one last hug? Please?”

Lily doesn’t answer immediately, and James assumes the worst. It’s not like he should be asking for shit, all things considered, and if Lily can’t even look at him without feeling disgust, why would she want to touch him?

Still, they’re saying goodbye. They might not see each other again. They’re about to become strangers, and James thinks he’s going to miss her until the day he dies. Is it really too much to want a proper goodbye? To embrace her in his arms one last time?

He’s about to raise his head, tell Lily to forget it, and that he’s sorry—again—when he feels a pair of tentative hands resting on his back, pressing lightly. A moment later, there’s another body against his, hugging him softly, doing its best to hold him well, to cover him completely.

It takes him a couple of seconds to realise he’s being hugged, and a few more to come to the conclusion that the person hugging him is Lily. He’d recognise her touch anywhere. Even the nervous beating of her heart sounds familiar, her chest grazing the side of his head.

James’ body shakes as he starts to cry even more, but he manages to get his limbs to work enough to return the embrace with probably more urgency than necessary, clutching the woman tightly between his arms. Lily doesn’t comment on it, and she holds him a bit more firmly, too, nails digging into his skin and forehead resting on top of his hair.

The hug doesn’t last too long, definitely not as long as James would’ve liked. But it’s warm and comforting and filled with love. Exactly what he needed.

It still feels like farewell, though.

She’s the one who pulls away first, because of course she is, and James is a bit embarrassed of the whine that slips past his lips, his hands reaching out in an attempt to bring Lily closer once more. She’s quick, however, and her expression hardens slightly when he catches James’ reaction. Before James can’t say anything, Lily gives a firm shake of his head, and then sits down on her stool again, focusing on Pandora.

“I’m ready,” she tells her, sounding determined. “You can ask the question now.”

“You’ve made up your mind, then?” Pandora inquires, her grin turning a little playful. Lily nods. “Yeah, I suppose he didn’t make it very hard.”

James isn’t subtle about the glare he sends Pandora’s way, but she doesn’t seem very affected by it. In fact, she looks quite entertained.

“Okay.” Pandora interlaces her hands behind her back, her face twisting into something more serious. “Lily, would you like to leave with James, alone, or with a new love?”

“Alone,” she replies immediately, and James’ heart breaks more at how sure she sounds.

He has known for a while that this is how it was going to end. James knows Lily, and this was the only possible outcome, considering the cheating and his developing… something with Regulus. He thought he was ready, that he was going to be able to take it, despite the guilt and the hurt. It’s not like he loves Lily, not like that, not anymore.

But oh, how wrong he’d been.

He sobs like a little kid as he watches her get up from her seat, eyes never leaving her frame even though Lily seems set on not looking at him.

“Thank you for everything, Pandora,” she says sweetly, and James is surprised to realise she means it.

“I wish you the best, darling,” the blonde says in response, her gaze softening around the edges.

Lily smiles at her, and then she’s turning around, starting to make her way down the path that’s become so familiar to James after all these weeks. She never spares him a glance, but she does stop after she’s taken a few steps, standing in the middle of the path with her back turned to him.

“I hope you find peace and get the life you always wanted, James,” she says, her voice eerily calm. “And I hope I won’t be there to see it.”

After that, she resumes her walking, head held high and pace never faltering. James doesn’t need to be looking at her to know her expression is determined.

It’s not comforting enough to make him stop crying, but it’s better than nothing.

Pandora has the decency to wait until he calms down a little, his crying turning into sniffles and a hiccup here and there. James rubs under his glasses, doing his best to get rid of any stray tears.

“And what about you, James?” she wonders, tone filled with genuine curiosity. “Are you going to leave alone or with a new love?”

James stares at her, blinking slowly, face blank because he doesn’t even have the strength to react properly. To show Pandora how upset he is about this whole thing, how much he hates her and her fucking show. He’s exhausted. He just wants this experience to be over. He wants to go home and hug his parents, and see Sirius and talk to Remus and—

And cry in Regulus’ arms. Allow the other man to comfort him and take care of him and kiss all his pain better.

Fuck, he needs Regulus so much right now.

He’s speaking before his mind has the chance to catch up to his heart. “With a new love,” he blurts out, and despite the surprise, the words sound right. They feel right.

Pandora smirks. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” James confirms, nodding to himself. “Yeah.”

“And what’s their name?”

“Regulus. Black. Regulus Black. I’d like to… I wanna leave with Regulus. Please.”

Pandora’s grin turns almost predatory, a little giggle escaping her mouth. “Yes, I had a feeling,” she hums, so very pleased with herself. James can’t even find it in himself to be angry about it. As long as he gets Regulus, he doesn’t really care much about anything else. “Well, we’ll let him know. Now we have to wait a bit to find out what his answer is.”

James fidgets in his seat, and he tries his best to look forward, distracting himself by watching Pandora, trying to uncover how this is going to end for him through just her body language. But his gaze keeps slipping towards the path, anxiously hoping to see the curly-haired man coming towards him.

He hopes Regulus says yes. James likes to think that the other man also felt that spark between them, that it hadn’t just been about sex for him, either, because why would they jeopardise their relationships otherwise? Why would they hurt someone they love so dearly if they didn’t have a good enough reason? If they didn’t think it was worth it?

But the truth is that they’ve never really spoken about it. Neither of them dared to, too scared to ruin what little time they had, to end something that hadn’t even properly started. James isn’t the kind to avoid a conversation, but with this, and with Regulus… Well, it had been easier to be selfish. To do what felt good and forget about the rest.

It had worked so well, until it hadn’t. And now James is left hesitant and terrified, going over every moment they’ve shared, searching for a sign, anything that would be enough to wash away all his worries and make him realise that Regulus—

“James?”

He whips his head around so aggressively his neck cramps, but James forgets all about the pain nearly immediately when he sees Regulus standing just a couple of metres away from him.

The other man is staring at him with his eyebrows raised, hands playing with the rings adorning his fingers and lower lip trapped between his lips.

Oh, he looks so lovely. Wearing that white shirt with the wide sleeves and a pair of grey slacks, his hair perfectly tousled and jewellery adorning his neck, his wrists, and all his fingers. Regulus only wears this many rings during the Bonfires, and it might be the only good thing about them, because James is fucking obsessed. He has such pretty hands, and with the addition of the rings it’s basically impossible to look away.

“James, are you—” Regulus tries again, concern beginning to twist his features.

He doesn’t let him finish. James is on his feet as soon as his name falls from Regulus’ lips a second time, and barely a heartbeat later, he’s slamming against him, Regulus wheezing at the impact. James makes sure to keep them both balanced, but they still come way too close to toppling over, their bodies swaying dangerously while James stretches the other man tightly in his arms.

“You’re here,” he breathes out, overwhelmed with relief.

It takes Regulus a moment, but then he’s hugging him back, embracing him even harder. “Of course I am.”

“I was so scared you wouldn’t want this.”

Regulus pulls away slightly just so he can look James in the eye. Still, he makes sure their bodies remain as close as possible, arms wrapped around each other.

“Are you daft? You already know how much I want you.”

“Yeah, but—” James bites the inside of his cheek, giving a sideways glance. “It’s different, being here.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t change anything for me.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

James beams at him, and then Regulus is lifting his arms, reaching for his face and wiping the remaining tears from his cheeks, a frown settling between his eyebrows.

“You’ve been crying,” Regulus states, voice going quiet. “What happened?”

James chuckles softly with a shake of his head, the noise coming out weak. “Me and Lily… We’re over. And it was—it was very hard. Almost unbearable.”

Regulus presses his lips in a thin line, his touch becoming softer, even though it seemed impossible.

“Because you chose me?” he asks in nearly a whisper, fingers twitching under James’ eye.

“Because I choose you,” James confirms with a smile, his own hand coming up to cover Regulus’ and giving it a small squeeze.

Regulus’ eyes widen slightly, a glint appearing in the grey of his iris, and then he’s kissing James hard, stealing all the air from his lungs.

He doesn’t attempt to deepen it, more than content with just pressing their mouths together, and James reciprocates as soon as the shock dissipates, moving his lips with the same passion as Regulus.

There’s a soft sigh coming from somewhere behind them, and Regulus leans back, blinking rapidly. James doesn’t allow him to go too far, though, one of his arms secured around his waist while he turns his head around, eyes squinted at Pandora, who’s grinning sweetly at them.

She probably doesn’t care much about them or their happiness, but James doesn’t doubt they’ve improved the ratings of her stupid show, so that must be why. People do love to see some drama.

“You don’t understand how glad I am to see you both like this,” she says, and James can barely resist the need to roll his eyes. “I know how hard it’s been. But you managed to find love, and I can only hope that your relationship continues to bloom.”

James is about to scoff, but he feels Regulus shift, and when he looks at him, he discovers a soft pink dusting his cheeks.

“Thank you,” Regulus tells Pandora, sounding way too genuine. James pouts a little. “This show has been a pain in my fucking ass, but I’m glad it at least gave me this.”

His gaze falls upon James as he says it, and James just melts, leaning closer to peck Regulus sweetly on the lips.

“You’re probably the only thing I don’t regret,” James murmurs. He’s aware that the mics are picking up everything they’re saying, but he intended his words to be just for Regulus’ ears.

The other man wrinkles his nose, but his blush deepens, and he tries to move even closer. And if James focuses for long enough, he can see the way the corners of Regulus’ mouth keep twitching.

“How sweet,” Pandora comments, cocking her head to the side. “I’m very sad to see you two go, but everything good must come to an end.”

James huffs but chooses to not say anything when Regulus gives him a pointed look.

“May your love for each other be enough,” Pandora adds after a beat, and James bares his teeth at her, his hold on Regulus tightening.

The other man shushes him before offering the woman a tiny smile. James doesn’t even get a chance to protest, because Regulus is stepping away from him a moment later, his hand looking for James’ and interlacing their fingers as soon as he finds it. He begins to drag James down the path right after, and he goes, because of course he does.

His place is right there, at Regulus’ side, their palms pressed together. For once, James truly believes it’ll be fine, as long as they’re together.

Chapter Text

The first thing that welcomes them when they set foot off the plane is a wave of cameras and flashes. Regulus is momentarily blinded, lifting a hand as a reflex while he does his best to shield his eyes from it all.

What his mind registers next are the questions, the yells, the calls of his and James’ name, overwhelming him to the point he doesn’t even know where he is, or what the fuck is going on.

Regulus hadn’t expected anyone to be waiting for them at the airport. Sure, Temptation Island is a very popular show, but apart from a season or two that properly went viral a few years ago, the participants don’t usually become famous afterwards. Apart from being recognised occasionally, and gaining lots of followers on social media, they’re able to return to their lives with considerable ease.

He isn’t sure why there’s such a commotion surrounding their return.

There’s a couple of people from the show’s crew tasked with guiding them through the airport and getting them a taxi if necessary. At first, Regulus had thought it was too much, and their presence has been mildly annoying so far—both he and James have been a little tense because of the audience.

Now, however, he’s incredibly grateful for having someone that can push the crowd away and help them walk through without too much trouble. Still, the noise is nearly unbearable, and Regulus thinks his anxiety would be spiking if he weren’t sort of used to it.

Sure, it’s been a while since he had to deal with paparazzi or interviewers, but back when he was still a member of the Black family this kind of behaviour was the norm, especially during galas and events. It’s something he doesn’t miss, but he’s glad that it served to prepare him, to aid him in dealing with the current situation.

James doesn’t seem to be faring too well, however.

When Regulus steals a glance at the other man, he discovers his eyes open wide and roaming around frantically, hands shaking at his sides and face concerningly pale. He frowns, and before he can think about it, he reaches out, grabbing James’ hand and pulling the other man behind him while he follows the crew’s instruction.

“Regulus and James won’t be answering any questions for the time being,” one of the men opening up a path for them says, his voice firm and not leaving any room for argument. “They’ve been travelling for hours on end, and I’m sure you can understand that they’re too exhausted to engage in any of this right now. Please, respect their need for privacy and allow them to get some rest.”

Regulus isn’t surprised when it goes completely ignored by all the photographers, but he still appreciates that an attempt was made to establish some boundaries. It’s sort of the bare minimum, but after everything that’s happened in the past few weeks, after experiencing Temptation Island firsthand, Regulus’ expectations are pretty low.

“James!” someone screams right before a flash goes off. “James, over here! What do you have to say about the way Lily ended your relationship?”

“Do you regret ruining what you had now that the program is over?”

“How’s it being with a man?”

“Are you gay?”

“Are you and Regulus planning to stay together? Or was it only some temporary fun?”

Regulus hears James’ breath hitch, and he feels him go stiff behind him, even if he never stops walking. He grits his teeth, making sure to glare at every single asshole that comes into his line of vision, and continues to push through, relieved when he catches sight of the exit somewhere in the distance.

“Hey!” some guy with a video camera says, who’s managed to get slightly closer than the rest. “Hey, Regulus! Would you mind answering a question or two? I won’t take too much of your time, I swear.”

“Fuck off,” he hisses, not even bothering to spare him a glance.

“Do you feel guilty about cheating on your girlfriend? Both you and Dorcas handled your breakup quite diplomatically during your final Bonfire—”

“None of your fucking business. Leave me alone.”

“And it almost felt like she wasn’t surprised about what happened between you and James. Was it all planned? Did you go there with the intention of—”

“Leave me alone!” Regulus snaps sharply, heartbeat rumbling inside his head as he elbows the interviewer when they pass him. He wishes he could quicken his pace, but he’s stuck having to follow the men from the show. There’s only so much they can do, considering it’s only two of them against dozens of reporters.

What the fuck happened while they were on the island?

One of the photographers extends a hand, probably with the intention to take a hold of one of them, grab their attention and hopefully get a better picture, and Regulus realises it a bit too late to avoid it. He sees it coming out of the corner of his eye, fingers already grazing his shoulder by then, but before the unwanted hand can grip him properly, someone pushes the owner hard enough to make them tumble backwards and the photographer crashing against the people standing behind him.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch him,” James snarls, and Regulus blinks, tilting his head back to look at the other man. James’ eyes are narrowed, lips curled in disgust, and Regulus’ heart skips a beat at the sight, some heat rushing to his cheeks.

He’s aware that it’s not the time, but it’s not like Regulus can help it. James looks so ridiculously attractive when he’s angry, especially when he’s angry on Regulus’ behalf.

If they were alone, or in a less public place, he’d already be kissing James senseless. Unfortunately, that’s not really an option right now, so Regulus shakes his head, forcing himself to pull out of his daze, and resumes walking, giving James’ hand a small squeeze to thank him for the gesture. The other man reciprocates less than a second later, and it’s enough to make Regulus more determined.

“Please, guys, look over here!”

“Just a second, we just want to know—”

“Was this planned by the show? Was it an attempt to increase the ratings?”

“James, did you actually like Lily or did you just use her as a cover for your sexuality?”

“How do you feel about the whole country having seen you two have sex? And quite explicitly, may I add—”

“Did you do it for money?”

“For fame?”

“What do you think your families will have to say about this?”

“Are you aware that this season has gone viral?”

“Don’t you feel ashamed of being recorded in such intimate moments?”

“Did you forget about the cameras? Or did you just not care?”

“Was it all for show?”

“What are your plans next?”

“Regulus, did you liking men have something to do with being disinherited by the Blacks—”

They finally reach the exit. Regulus can’t push the doors open fast enough, his head already pounding with the beginning of a headache. He squeezes James’ hand once again as they finally get out of the airport, to remind himself that the other man is still there, with him, safe and sound. It takes James a moment, but he returns it, and Regulus swears he can breathe a bit better for it.

The cold air of London hitting him in the face also helps to clear his mind slightly. He tugs James even closer while he follows the crew from the show, who appear to be guiding them to the pick-up zone, hopefully to get them a taxi.

The reporters attempt to follow them, but most of them are intercepted by a few security guards and are stopped before they can make it too far. Regulus can barely suppress a smirk as he watches them argue loudly with security, and it doesn’t take them long to lose sight of them.

“We’ll get you both a few taxis so you can get home without issue,” one of them tells Regulus, and he suddenly feels a little guilty for having been so rude to the two of them. He can’t even remember either of their names, and he’s too embarrassed to ask now. “There doesn’t seem to be much of a queue, so hopefully you’ll get out of here soon.”

Regulus nods, half a smile pulling at his lips. “Thank you, we appreciate your help.”

“It’s our job,” the man answers with a shrug. Regulus doubts it, but they must be getting paid for this, so he supposes he gets it.

“Do you need our addresses?” he questions just as he feels James wrap his free arm around his waist, pressing his chest against Regulus’ back. He leans into the contact automatically.

The man shakes his head. “We already have them. Pandora provided us with some basic information, like addresses and your emergency contacts’ numbers, in case something happened.”

Regulus nods once again, repressing a grimace. He understands why Pandora did it, especially after seeing what had been waiting for them at the airport, and it’s not like these people are about to make such personal information public, or anything. But it still makes him a little uncomfortable, to have strangers know these things about him and James.

“Can we have a moment?” Regulus wonders, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Just the two of us? It won’t take long.”

“Of course,” the man responds easily, even though his colleague gives him a look. “The taxis should be here relatively soon, though, so just make sure you’re ready.”

“Sure, no worries,” Regulus says with a tiny smile, a bit startled when the gesture is reciprocated. A moment later, both men walk away from him and James, straight to where there’s a few people waiting to get into the first empty taxi that arrives.

Regulus waits until he’s sure that they’re far away enough to not hear them, and then he turns around, hand still interlaced with James’ and James’ arm still wrapped around his waist. The other man grins softly at him, but there’s a few wrinkles covering his forehead, and he looks so very tired.

It sends a pang through his chest.

“Hey,” Regulus murmurs, reaching out to caress James’ cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” James says, but it doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest. “Just a bit overwhelmed.”

“I get it,” Regulus sighs. “I didn’t expect that kind of welcome.”

James snorts, and despite the noise being weak, it manages to make Regulus relax slightly. “Tell me about it.”

“I suppose it makes sense. This—this kind of thing had never happened in the show before, so of course it’s gonna cause a bit of a commotion. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it—”

“How bad do you think it truly is?” James asks, a furrow settling between his eyebrows. “If we had this many reporters waiting to ambush us at the airport?”

Regulus swallows thickly, lowering his gaze briefly. “I’m not sure,” he admits. He really hadn’t even considered this. He had just wanted to go back home and put everything related to Temptation Island—apart from James, of course, and maybe Marlene—behind him. This complicates things, and in more ways than one. “I’m hoping it’ll die down in a couple of months, but who knows. People love some drama, and like I said, this, us, is very new.”

James’ hold on Regulus tightens momentarily, a storm raging behind his eyes as he rolls his lower lip between his teeth.

“I don’t want more eyes on our relationship,” he tells him quietly. “It was already bad enough during the show, but at least there we could sort of ignore it. Here, however…”

“It’ll pass,” Regulus reassures him, despite not being very certain about the truth his words hold. His thumb draws delicate circles against the high of James’ cheek, and the other man’s eyes flutter closed for a second while he leans into the touch. “Remember what we talked about on the plane?”

James opens his eyes, meeting Regulus’ gaze head on, and he gives a little nod.

“We’ll make it work,” Regulus says, doing his best to convince them both. After everything that’s happened, after everything they’ve done, Regulus isn’t about to give up now that they’re free from that fucking show. Not when he has James. “It’s gonna be hard, especially during the first few months, but people will forget about it at some point. About us. We just gotta wait. Be patient. Keep a low profile.”

James nods once more, slower this time, and Regulus sees the way his throat bobs when he swallows.

“Yeah, you’re right,” James murmurs, and no matter how hard Regulus tries, he can’t tell if the other man means it or not. “It’ll die down at some point.”

“Exactly.” Regulus takes a quick look around them, making sure no one is paying too much attention to them, before he leans forward and sweetly pecks James on the cheek. He’s sure that he’s a bit flushed when he pulls away, but it’s worth it if only for the light that seems to have taken over James’ eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay away from social media, though. People can be ridiculously mean, and you’ve already been through enough.”

James bites the inside of his cheek, averting his gaze momentarily before it focuses on Regulus again. “I promise. I don’t care about what others have to say about us, anyway.”

“Good. Now let me give you my number, we’ll keep in contact and see when we can meet again.”

“I’ll call you soon, baby.”

Regulus smiles softly, and then James is reaching inside his jacket, offering his phone to Regulus, who takes it eagerly. He types his number in quickly before giving the device back, feeling a bit better now that they have a way to communicate.

He doesn’t understand why he’s still so anxious about the prospect of starting a relationship with James. Maybe it’s because he’s scared that things will change now that they’re off the island and back to their lives, scared that it had all been a fluke, and James will realise he’s made a mistake and will want to return to Lily.

Regulus wouldn’t blame him. He doubts he’ll be able to give the other man the peace and security that his ex had most definitely brought him.

But James had been very clingy during the flight, and even now, after the reporters and all the invasive questions, he’s still happy to be around Regulus, to touch him and be touched in return. It warms him to his very core, heart singing between his ribs,hope for the future buzzing in his bones.

Life has taught Regulus that it’s never smart to hope or have any kind of expectations. He’s lived always expecting the worst since his brother left, and that mentality has never failed him. The world isn’t a very nice place. Not when you stop being rich and influential.

With James, however… Regulus thinks he wouldn’t mind trying it just this once. He feels like he can trust the other man, despite the fear, despite the concern, despite every single voice in his mind screaming at him to stop being a fucking idiot. He genuinely wants to make this thing between them work, and it seems like James wants it as much as he does. Regulus doesn’t remember when he last liked someone to this degree, so he might as well go all out.

It can’t be worse than willingly participating in a show like Temptation Island.

“Regulus!” someone yells, and he startles, whipping his head around just to find one of the men from the crew waving at him. “Your ride is here!”

Regulus gives him a nod and an unenthusiastic thumbs up before turning around to look at James again, whose expression has fallen considerably.

“Come on, don’t do that,” Regulus chastises softly, pretending he doesn’t feel a pang at the centre of his chest at the sight. “We’ll see each other soon, right?”

James blinks a couple of times, and then attempts a smile that doesn’t completely reach his eyes.

“Right,” he answers, leaning down to kiss Regulus on the corner of his mouth.

“I told you on the plane,” Regulus murmurs as soon as James pulls away, faces remaining a bit too close together. “I’m all in. I wanna do this with you.”

“I know,” James says, shoulders sagging. “Me too.”

“That’s it. That’s all we need.”

James nods, and then he’s stepping back, letting go of Regulus and putting some unwanted space between them. A shiver wracks his frame almost immediately, James taking all the warmth away with him the moment he stops touching Regulus.

He still does his best to put on a brave face, forcing his lips to curl upwards as he begins to walk towards where the taxi is waiting for him.

“Take care,” James calls after him.

“You too,” Regulus exclaims back, looking back and offering the other man one final smile.

Then, with a heavy heart and bitter taste on his tongue, he gets inside the car.

***

James doesn’t call him that day. Or the next one. Or the next one.

After a week passes with no news from him, Regulus stops checking his phone anxiously, stops reaching for it with greed whenever he feels it vibrate in his pocket. He stops searching for James on social media, waiting for him to post something, anything, to indicate that he’s okay. He stops making excuses as to why he must be taking so long to contact Regulus, justifying him time and time again in his mind when doubt starts to seep in.

He stops having hope.

***

Regulus has never been good at following his own advice. That’s probably why he’s checking Twitter during his break at work, frantically scouring every tag related to himself and James and Temptation Island for the entire half hour while he takes a bite here and there from his lunch.

It’s different when it’s him, okay? He had known that what people are saying was bound to upset James and make him feel terrible, but Regulus can take it. He’s heard a lot worse, and coming from people he actually cared about, so reading the bullshit a bunch of strangers have to say about him on the internet doesn’t affect him too much.

Although, considering he’s been at his fucking lowest these past few weeks, perhaps it’s a habit he should try to shake soon. Despite how little all these judgemental comments mean to him, they’re not doing his poor mental state any favours. And the worst part is that it’s not even the insults addressed at him that hit the hardest, but every attack he has to read directed at James. Every clip or image of them being intimate getting analysed or sexualised or treated like they’re a pair of deviants who should be locked up.

It makes him sick to his fucking stomach. Regulus can only hope that James listened to his advice and isn’t being subjected to any of this. He doesn’t even know why he cares in the first place, considering the little disappearing act James has pulled on him, but Regulus does. He can’t even find it in himself to be angry, not yet. Not until he’s sure that James is fine.

He doubts he’ll find out any time soon, because James doesn’t seem keen on contacting him, but Regulus believes something will come out at some point. Even if not from James himself.

Regulus will curse him out then, until his throat is raw and his mouth fills with blood. For now, however, he’s too busy being miserable.

“Looking at that shit again?”

He snaps his head up, just to find his colleague, Jen, leaning against the bar and peering at the screen of his phone. She has an eyebrow raised and her arms crossed, gaze jumping from the device to Regulus’ face.

“It just showed up on my timeline,” Regulus murmurs, hiding the screen away from her before he puts his phone back inside his pocket.

“Sure,” she drawls, not even bothering to pretend she believes him. “You used to never touch your phone during your breaks, and now you’re glued to the damn thing.”

Regulus pouts a little, returning his attention to the half-eaten meal in front of him. The chefs have been extra nice to him lately—except Mason, the asshole, who keeps making fun of him and asking about James—so the food is better than usual. Regulus just can’t bring himself to eat it. He’s never had that big of an appetite, but since James decided to ghost him, it’s become even worse.

“I can’t help it,” he mumbles, forcing himself to take another bite. It’s cold, but it tastes nice regardless. “And even if I didn’t actively look for it, some of it would reach me, one way or another, because it’s fucking everywhere—”

“But only some of it,” Jen cuts him off pointedly, and Regulus scowls. He hates to admit she might be right. She’s probably his favourite coworker, and he loves being on shift with her, but lately she’s been a pain in his ass, all worried about him and acting like she cares. So annoying. “Besides, not everything they say is bad. A lot of people grew very fond of you and your boy toy during the season.”

“Not my boy toy,” Regulus corrects her, tone filled with bitterness. “And if you’re talking about the idiots who keep posting clips of us in the hot tub talking about how hot it was, then—”

“Of course not!” Jen exclaims, and when Regulus takes a peek at her, he isn’t surprised to find her wrinkling her nose. “God, that’s disgusting, why would people—”

“What, you’re telling me you haven’t seen it?” Regulus grins a little, going for mocking but falling short. “You said you watched the whole season.”

“I watched most of it,” she corrects him. “It might come as a shock to you, but I didn’t have any interest on seeing my coworker shagging some random bloke on national television—”

“Lower your fucking voice,” Regulus hisses, glancing around. It’s a weekday, so there’s only a bartender on shift, and a couple of people attending the tables, and they all seem quite busy. Fortunately, no one appears to be paying them any mind.

Jen rolls her eyes. “Reg, be serious, everyone already knows about it. And you’ve been getting recognised on the daily—”

“Doesn’t mean I wanna hear about it all the damn time.”

“Fair enough. Now, get off your phone and finish your meal. Dan is gonna be a bitch about it if he sees so much food left.”

“I’m not on my phone anymore.”

“You’re gonna take it out again as soon as I turn around.”

Regulus scoffs, but he can’t argue, considering Jen isn’t exactly wrong. Even now, after a mere couple of minutes, he’s feeling restless, fingers itching to grab the device once more and continue with his search.

“I might have to confiscate it,” Jen muses, and Regulus narrows his eyes at her, his hand hovering over his pocket.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he retorts.

“Try me,” she replies drily, but she doesn’t make any moves towards him. Still, it takes Regulus a few seconds to finally relax. “Seriously, Reg, you need to chill.”

“Easier said than done,” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes.”

“Listen, the show’s over. I know it’s hard, because people are fucking assholes, but you gotta move on. I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t want—”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Regulus is quick to correct her, voice straining around the knot that appears in his throat.

That makes Jen pause. “Oh,” it’s all she says at first, cocking her head to the side while she looks him up and down. “Is that why you’re torturing yourself reading every mean comment you can find?”

Regulus curls a bit into himself, his stomach turning. He shrugs with one shoulder, the gesture lazy, and his eyes focus on what’s left of the meal in front of him.

“That won’t help dull the pain, Reg,” Jen tells him, her tone considerably softer. “It’s only bound to make you even more miserable.”

He shrugs again. “I’m pretty sure that’s impossible, but thanks for the concern.”

There’s a beat, in which neither of them say a word, and Regulus would believe Jen has gone back to work if he couldn’t see her out of the corner of his eye, still leaning against the bar while she stares at him.

“When do you finish?” she asks all of a sudden, sounding unexpectedly casual.

“Five,” he replies automatically, before he turns his head and blinks at her.

“I’m done at four,” Jen replies at the same time that a bell rings. Regulus doesn’t even need to check to know it’s from the kitchen, but his body still twists to look, the noise so ingrained in his mind at this point that he responds without thinking about it. “I’ll wait for you and then we’ll go out.”

Regulus grimaces as Jen begins to make her way towards the window where one of the chefs, Theo, is already nodding at her in acknowledgement.

“You know I’m not a fan of clubbing,” he complains weakly.

“No one said anything about clubbing,” she throws over her shoulder. “We’ll just go to the pub. You can tell me about this not-boyfriend of yours and I’ll get us some shots. I can tell you need them.”

Regulus considers protesting, putting up a bit of a fight, but Jen can be even more stubborn than him when she wants to. Besides, the idea doesn’t sound half bad. Regulus has barely left the flat unless it’s for work, and regardless of how much of a homebody he is, it’s starting to take a toll.

It makes him a little uncomfortable, realising that Jen truly cares about him. Most of his coworkers have been extra nice to him lately, too, but they’ve been sort of subtle about it, to the point Regulus can easily pretend not to notice, even if it still leaves him feeling a bit awkward. Stilted.

Jen, however, is being quite open about it. The most open she’s ever been. And sure, they get along so well Regulus does consider her a friend in the privacy of his mind, but this… Well, it’s weird. He doesn’t know how to handle it, especially when he’s already been struggling with his emotions so much these past couple of weeks.

And yet, when Jen walks past him holding a tray filled to the brim with dishes and their gazes meet momentarily, Regulus manages to give her half a smile, despite it not reaching his eyes, and a little nod.

“Okay,” he murmurs softly.

Regulus knows Jen has heard him because he catches her grin, and when some warmth begins to spread in his chest, he forces himself to push every other feeling aside and focus on it.

***

He’s barely been getting any sleep lately.

Regulus’ brain refuses to shut up for long enough to allow him to fall asleep, so most of his nights are spent tossing and turning in bed, feeling like he’s on the verge of losing his mind. Dorcas has given him some advice, different methods to try that have helped her before, but so far nothing has worked for Regulus. He’s always been prone to insomnia, but this is starting to get more than a little ridiculous.

Fortunately, when he does manage to get some sleep, Regulus doesn’t tend to dream. He gets some peace and quiet, even if it isn’t very often; a few hours of his mind going completely silent. He thinks it might be the only moments where he rests.

There are certain occasions, however, when Regulus doesn’t get so lucky. He’s so fucking exhausted that his head doesn’t usually have the strength to conjure up any images, but there have been a few dreams. Dreams that still haunt him when he’s awake.

Sometimes, they end with him hard and aching, resembling memories more than anything else. Regulus is always conflicted whether he should do something about it, because the momentary bliss will lead to him feeling even worse afterwards. And he hates that. It’s so pathetic, he can’t even jerk off in peace now.

Other times, though, the dreams feel more like nightmares. Not because they’re horrifying, or scary, or play with his fears. In fact, they’re nothing like nightmares. They’re merely glimpses of his time with James, them cuddling on the other man’s bed, or holding hands under the table, or talking quietly late at night, sitting next to the pool and stealing a kiss here and there.

Glimpses of what it could’ve been, of what life might’ve looked like if James had decided to stay, if Regulus had been enough for him.

Regulus always wakes up in tears.

***

“Reg, it’s been a fucking month,” Dorcas sighs as soon as he opens the door and she sees the state he’s in. “You need to get a grip.”

He blinks at her one, two, three times, and then he rolls his eyes hard enough his head tilts back, before going back inside without saying anything in return. Regulus knows Dorcas will follow because she always does. That’s why he doesn’t startle when he hears the door closing a few seconds later, steps following right behind while he returns to his place on the couch.

“Your place is a mess,” Dorcas points out unhelpfully, standing in front of him. She takes a look around the living room, scrunching her nose in the process.

There’s takeaway boxes all over the coffee table, and both clean and dirty clothes on the floor and hanging from chairs and even the back of the sofa. She also seems to be counting every empty mug, which Regulus doesn’t recommend, because there’s at least one on every flat surface in the room. Her eyes also linger on the few empty cans of Redbull, and the empty bottle of red wine under the table.

When her attention returns to Regulus, Dorcas’ eyes are squinted, and her lips are curled in clear distaste.

“It’s always a mess,” Regulus retorts, reaching out for his cup of coffee. It’s his third this morning.

“More than usual,” Dorcas corrects, crossing her arms over her chest. “This needs to stop.”

“And what is this?” Regulus questions, a little taunting, because they are both very aware of what Dorcas is referring to. Still, he keeps his attention firmly on the drink in front of him, pressing the cup against his lips to take a tiny sip. Too hot.

“Your personal pity party,” she answers drily, making Regulus scowl. “It’s been weeks, and I know you’re hurt, Reg—”

“You don’t know shit,” he grumbles, taking another sip of coffee. It’s longer this time, and he has to make an active effort not to wince when the liquid burns his tongue and then his throat as it goes down. “You don’t understand what it was like. What it feels like. I wish I didn’t care and I could just—go back to my normal life without thinking about him, but—I can’t stop, Cas. I can’t fucking—”

“You have to try,” Dorcas interrupts him with a sigh, moving to sit right next to him. It’s a very tight fit, and Regulus can’t help but stiffen. He’s comfortable with his friend’s touch, always, but his body is having some issues getting the memo. “I’ve given you time and I’ve given you patience. I’ve let you grieve your relationship—”

“What relationship?” Regulus asks without bothering to hide the bitterness in his tone.

“But I won’t continue watching while you destroy yourself,” Dorcas finishes, her expression soft but her gaze firm.

“I’m not—that’s not what I’m trying to do,” Regulus protests half-heartedly, a finger caressing the rim of his half-empty cup.

“Really? When was the last time you showered?”

Regulus lets out an affronted sound, frowning slightly as he stares at Dorcas. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“The last time you ate something that wasn’t takeaway? That you washed the dishes? Did some laundry?” Dorcas presses on, every sentence feeling like an accusation and lodging itself between his ribs, making him flinch.

“It isn’t—”

“The last time you went out with—”

“I went to the pub with Jen about a week ago,” he cuts in a little petulantly.

Dorcas blinks at him, features twisting in what can only be offence. “And you didn’t think of inviting me? I’ve been trying to get you out of the flat for weeks!”

“I assumed you were with Marlene,” Regulus grumbles, shrugging with just one shoulder.

“I could’ve brought her with me,” Dorcas huffs out. “She’s also worried about you, you know? She said you haven’t been answering any of her messages.”

“I meant to,” Regulus says, and he isn’t lying. He’s always glad to see Marlene has texted him, because theirs was a friendship he had been hoping to keep. It made him quite happy when she first reached out to him only a couple of days after he returned to London.

But the thing is, every time his phone vibrates with a message from her—because of course Marlene doesn’t have any problems double-texting or even triple-texting—he gets momentarily excited, hoping to see something else on his notification screen. Except it’s never an unknown number that belongs to James, which leaves Regulus feeling wrong-footed and upset and unable to bring himself to reply to anyone. He tells himself he’ll get back to Marlene the next day, but then he never does.

“I know you did,” Dorcas murmurs quietly, patting him sweetly in the back.

“I really did,” he insists, just in case, fingers twitching where they’re gripping onto the cup. “It’s just—it’s been hard.”

“I get it.” Dorcas attempts a smile, but she doesn’t quite manage it. “But it’s time you start putting in the effort.”

“Dorcas—”

“No, Reg, listen to me. These past few weeks you’ve been wallowing and feeling sorry for yourself, which, fair enough. You needed some time to cry it all out and be sad. But it’s been a month, and you’re barely a human being—”

“I have been trying,” Regulus hisses, doing his best to put some space between their bodies, even though it’s impossible when they’re both sitting in his tiny sofa. “It’s just very hard, okay? Getting out of bed is already complicated enough, but I can’t—I can’t pretend I’m fine when I constantly feel like I’m being torn apart inside.”

The glance Dorcas gives him is so full of pity Regulus can barely stand it. He lowers his head, eyes fixed on what’s left of his coffee, before he presses the cup to his mouth and finishes it all in one big gulp.

“Reg,” she begins, and her tone is enough to make him grimace. “Please, don’t take what I’m about to say in the wrong way—”

“Great start to the conversation, Cas, I’m not nervous at all—”

“Is James really worth all of this?”

Regulus’ hands spasm, and if it weren’t because the cup is basically resting on his lap, he’s sure that he would’ve dropped it on the floor, smashing it in a hundred pieces.

He swallows thickly, the inside of his mouth feeling like sandpaper.

“He’s worth everything,” Regulus whispers, his chest aching almost like he’s being stabbed.

“Oh, darling,” Dorcas mumbles before she wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into her body.

Regulus tenses up against her for a moment, before he completely relaxes, allowing his friend to envelop him completely, head coming to rest on her shoulder while he tries to curl around her.

It’s been so long since he’s been comforted like this. Sure, Dorcas had been there for him during that first week, when Regulus had started to realise that James wasn’t going to be calling any time soon, hugging him and holding him when he had broken into tears like a fucking idiot. But after that, he had sort of shut her out, using work as an excuse to cancel on plans and taking advantage of the fact that she and Marlene seem to be getting along incredibly well.

He had been the one to introduce them, but it didn’t take them long to start making him feel like a third wheel. And under different circumstances it wouldn’t have bothered him that much; Regulus would’ve probably teased Dorcas endlessly about it, because he’s sure she was acting an absolute fool during the first couple of weeks, when she and Marlene were still getting to know each other.

Regulus is kind of sad he missed most of it. It’s been a while since Dorcas has had a crush on someone.

But he simply can’t stand it right now. He’s never been petty like this before, but then again, he’s never liked someone like he likes James. Which is really fucking embarrassing to admit, and maybe that’s why he hasn’t actually talked to Dorcas about how serious what he and James had was. Or, at least, what it had been, to him.

Regulus can barely deal with it when one of his coworkers’ partners comes to pick them up and has to watch them flirt; he can’t watch Dorcas and Marlene fall in love right in front of him, no matter how happy he is for the both of them.

“I didn’t know—” Dorcas starts, before she pauses just to sigh deeply. “You’ve never told me you were in this deep.”

“I assumed you could tell,” Regulus mutters, staring straight ahead. It feels easier to have this conversation when he doesn’t have to meet Dorcas’ gaze. “You know me well enough.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not like I’ve watched this season. All the information I have is from what you’ve said and what I saw during the Bonfires.”

A furrow settles between Regulus’ eyebrows. “Wait, you haven’t seen it?”

“Of course not. You told me not to.”

Regulus’ eyes widen minutely, and it’s not long before they begin to itch slightly. He doesn’t understand why such a simple statement is making him so ridiculously sentimental. Like, Dorcas is his best friend. He shouldn’t be surprised about her caring about him enough to listen to him.

Stupid James. This is all his fault.

“Yeah, but—I don’t know, I guess I assumed—” Regulus tries, tripping over his own words while he does his best to keep his tears at bay. “Twitter is filled with clips, and it was the only thing people talked about for weeks.”

“Sure, but I muted every word related to it.” Dorcas shrugs when Regulus tilts his head up to watch her, his mouth parted. “It was clear you were uncomfortable about me watching you like that, so I did everything I could so it wouldn’t happen. And it’s worked so far. Yeah, I’ve seen a few comments here and there but—”

“I never expected you to make that much of an effort,” Regulus confesses, his eyes still feeling too wet for his tastes.

Dorcas’ eyebrows shoot up. “Should I be offended? I think I’ve always been a good friend to you—”

“It’s not about that!” Regulus rushes to say, shaking his head. “It’s just that it sounds like a lot of work. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had seen something by accident.”

“I’m aware. But it was obvious this was important to you.”

“Still—”

“It was no bother, Reg. And besides, what they showed me in the Bonfires was more than enough. Very happy you got laid, but I don’t wanna see you like that ever again.”

Regulus snorts, before punching Dorcas on the shoulder weakly. There’s no strength on the gesture, but she still gasps a little.

“Believe me, Pandora went easy on you,” he tells her, readjusting his position a little. “Probably because she had already figured out that I’m gay.”

“By the end of it, I’m sure she knew we both were,” Dorcas huffs out, sounding mildly amused. “I’m convinced the only reason she didn’t say anything about it was because you and James were getting her all the content she needed.”

“Yeah,” Regulus sighs, his lips curling as a sour taste fills the inside of his mouth. “It wasn’t our intention, though. I don’t know if they ever showed you this, but I—I tried to stop it, after the first time me and James kissed.”

“You did?” Dorcas asks softly, holding him a little tighter.

“I didn’t wanna ruin his life,” he admits, hiding his face into Dorcas’ shoulder. “He was so happy with Lily…” Regulus shuts his eyes briefly. “He had everything, and I thought he was just a little confused. Unfortunately, I know the type, and I was scared he was gonna regret it the next morning and end up resenting me.”

“You had feelings for him even back then?”

Regulus squirms a little in his seat, pointedly ignoring the sudden heat accumulating in his cheeks. “And before that,” he confesses in a whisper, his voice cracking at the end. “At first, I assumed it was just a silly crush, because he was very much my type and it had been a while for me. But every time we spent time together, it was just—he was so—”

“I had no idea,” Dorcas murmurs, one of her hands coming up to caress Regulus’ curls gently. His shoulders sag almost immediately. “I mean, you had been fucking him, and when we were back in London, you told me you both had decided to continue seeing each other and give it a try, but I didn’t—” Dorcas stops, leaving the sentence hanging, and then she shifts a bit, jostling Regulus in the process. “I guess I believed it was all casual. Just some easy fun because you got lucky enough to find a guy who wasn’t straight in that show.”

Regulus shakes his head a few times. “James didn’t know he liked men until me.”

Dorcas lets out a long whistle, and Regulus has to hit her for that, even though it only manages to make her chuckle.

“You’re just that irresistible, huh, Reg?” she teases him. He doesn’t need to be looking at her to know she’s probably doing something obnoxious, like wiggling her eyebrows.

“Shut up,” Regulus grumbles. “Clearly not so much, considering he fucking ghosted me.”

His friend tenses up against him, and Regulus tilts his head until he catches sight of Dorcas’ expression. Her lips are pursed and her jaw clenched, and Regulus doesn’t get the chance to ask before she’s speaking up again.

“You dodged a bullet with that one, then,” she states firmly.

“Dorcas—”

“No, Regulus. I already wasn’t happy with his disappearing act, but I thought it was just you being dramatic, and that’s why I came to knock some sense into you.”

“Wow, I feel so appreciated—”

“But now that I know it was something genuine, and serious, I fucking hate him,” Dorcas says in almost a snarl, fingers digging into Regulus for a painful second before they relax. “I’m really sorry he broke your heart and you’ve had to deal with it on your own—”

“I mean, breaking my heart sounds a bit—I don’t know, I think you might be exaggerating,” Regulus murmurs, relieved that Dorcas can’t see his face or the soft blush suddenly covering it.

“I don’t care,” Dorcas retorts without missing a beat. “You’re my best friend, and you deserve so much better than a guy who was too much of a coward to keep his promise.”

“He never promised me anything, Cas,” Regulus sighs, lifting a hand to rub right under his eyes. “The closest we ever came to talking explicitly about our feelings was in the plane back from the island, and even then we kept tiptoeing around the subject.”

“I swear to god,” Dorcas mutters under her breath, and the corners of Regulus’ mouth twitch. “Men are fucking impossible. Okay, then, Reg. Update me. What was said, exactly?”

Regulus squirms in his seat, barely repressing a grimace. He isn’t sure of how to explain this to Dorcas, because now, and after having a month with no contact from James, he can definitely admit that both of them had been playing it safe. Nothing wrong with that, of course, especially considering they had been feeling quite vulnerable and just wanted some comfort and reassurance but… Maybe the serious conversation Regulus assumed they had wasn’t as serious, or as in depth, as it should’ve been.

There’s also the fact that they spent half of that flight making out like horny teenagers and doing their best to join the mile high club.

He doesn’t want her judgement, even though he definitely deserves it. Regulus is already feeling bad enough on his own; Dorcas should only be allowed to cuddle him and perhaps pick a movie they can watch together until she inevitably falls asleep.

That’s not the kind of friend she is, however, not when Regulus has spent an entire month just feeling sorry for himself and doing a questionable job at keeping himself alive. Don’t get him wrong, he appreciates this side of her immensely, and he’s in urgent need of a wakeup call, but also, Regulus just wants to be left alone.

It still hurts like a bitch. He still wants James with a desperation that scares him on a good day and angers him on a bad one. Regulus is far from being over what they had, and he doesn’t have any fight left in him at the moment to try and be strong about it. To go back to his life. All his energy is being put into going to work, because it’s not something he can skip, regardless of how much he’d love to—the money he earned thanks to participating in the show has helped with that, though, and Regulus has taken more days off in the past month than he’s taken in the past three years.

He wishes he could just be mad at the other man. Regulus has always been the petty kind, always one to harbour resentment and hold a grudge like it’s second nature. And sure, he’s had some moments where just the thought of James was enough to make him want to break something. He’s even fantasised about punching the other man in his ridiculously perfect face.

Most of the time, though, he’s just sad. To the point it’s pathetic. He misses James so much he kinda wants to die a little sometimes.

“We… chose each other,” Regulus begins, cringing internally at how high-pitched his voice comes out. “I assumed he was either gonna go back to his girlfriend or just stay alone for a while, but then the crew came to tell me James wanted me with him, so I—” Regulus gulps, his throat feeling uncomfortably dry. “I did. I said yes.”

“Okay,” Dorcas answers slowly, her tone giving nothing away. “And then?”

“Then, in the plane, he told me he actually wanted to give us a chance. I said that the future was very uncertain, especially after being away from home and friends and family for so long, and that maybe outside the show he wouldn’t want me like—like that.” Regulus pulls at the sleeve of his jumper distractedly. “But he insisted and seemed very sincere and he was, um, very convincing, too.”

“What do you—” Dorcas starts to ask, before realisation dawns on her and she clicks her tongue loudly. “Ew. Ew. You’re disgusting. You both are. Couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few hours, could you?”

“It was a very stressful day for both of us,” Regulus sniffs, not embarrassed in the slightest. What did Dorcas expect, really?

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Anyway. After that, we spoke a bit about keeping in contact, and finding some time to, like, go out and hang out and get to know each other more.”

“So, a relationship?”

“I guess?” Regulus concedes, albeit a little hesitant. “We never—we didn’t use that word.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Dorcas groans, and the only thing Regulus can offer her in response is a shrug. “But regardless of how vague you both were about it, I feel like it’s clear that you both meant it the same way. I don’t understand why he’d ghost you after all that.”

“Maybe he realised I did, in fact, ruin his life. Maybe once he got back home and he saw his friends and his parents he realised he didn’t need me.”

“Bullshit. If it had been just sex, he wouldn’t have picked you over leaving on his own.”

“It’s not like it’s the first time someone has does that in the show—”

“Yeah, but you told me James isn’t like that,” Dorcas reminds him a bit pointedly.

“I could’ve been wrong,” Regulus mumbles, eyes downcast.

“True,” Dorcas agrees easily, which doesn’t surprise him but stings nonetheless. “Whatever it is, though, you need to get on with your life, Reg.”

He scoffs, lips beginning to twist into a pout.

“Easier said than done—”

“Believe me, I’m more than aware that I’m asking a lot out of you. But you’ve been letting yourself go, and it’s devastating to see you wait for something that, frankly, isn’t gonna come.”

Regulus’ fingers twitch violently where they’re still lazily holding onto the now empty mug, and he bites the inside of his cheek, the sudden sting helping to ground him.

“It’s not even about getting James back,” Regulus says, doing his best to keep his voice casual, even though it is a bit about that. “I just—I want to understand—”

“I know that closure would help you move on, Reg, but there’s none. James hasn’t tried to get in contact with you, even though he has your number. I don’t think you’re gonna get any kind of explanation.”

“I mean, I could send him a message on Instagram, or—” Regulus tries, even though the mere idea makes his skin crawl. It’s been a month with no word from James. The other man hasn’t even followed him on social media, despite Regulus not being that difficult to find—sure, he only has, like, two accounts, and they’re both private, but you can tell it’s him, if you know him well enough. If Regulus attempted to reach out, he might die of embarrassment. Mostly, because he doubts he’d get a response.

“What would be the point?” Dorcas interrupts him softly. “He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with you, Reg. Which is definitely his loss, but there’s not much you can do about it.”

“I know,” Regulus tells her with a certain strain in his tone. His eyes are starting to get itchy once more, and god, he fucking hates this whole conversation so much. “It’s not like I’m actually expecting anything from him, but I can’t—I don’t—”

“Reg, this situation is taking a toll on you, you have to—”

A sudden ringing cuts Dorcas off, making them both jump. The sound is annoyingly loud, and for a moment, they both freeze, Dorcas looking down at him while Regulus stares up at her, their eyes wide and their lips parted.

But then, it clicks for Regulus, and a second later, he’s scrambling upwards, reaching out to where his phone is resting on the coffee table, vibrating against the surface as it rings and rings and rings.

As soon as it’s in his hand, and Regulus notices the number calling is an unknown one, his heart climbs up his fucking throat until it’s lodged at the back of his mouth, ready to tumble past his lips the moment he utters a word. He swallows, trying to force it down, but the stubborn little thing doesn’t move, and Regulus can feel it beating with such ferocity the inside of his head rumbles.

There’s only half a second of hesitation before he finally picks up, his palms already growing a bit sweaty.

“Hello?” he mumbles as soon as he presses the device against his ear, voice slightly hoarse.

There’s a beat of silence, and then a shaky inhale. “Hi, Reg.”

James.

Regulus doubles over, a gasp slipping through his lips while his free hand comes to clutch at his sweater, right at the centre of his chest. He’s thankful that he’s still sitting on the couch, because he’s convinced his knees would have failed him otherwise.

“James?” he asks, unsure of if he’s hearing correctly or if his mind is playing tricks on him. It wouldn’t surprise him at this point, especially considering the sleep deprivation.

“Yeah,” the other man breathes out, somehow sounding as wrecked as Regulus himself feels. “Yeah, it’s me.”

A disbelieving laugh tries to push its way out of Regulus, but he doesn’t allow it, clamping his mouth shut before it gets a chance to escape. Both his hands have started shaking, and he feels on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.

Is this really happening?

“How—why did you—” Regulus attempts to inquire, question after question fighting to get out, leaving him dizzy and overwhelmed.

“I’m really sorry,” James rushes to say. “For disappearing like I did. I’m sure you must be mad, and rightfully so, but I—I promise I had a reason, and I hated every second of it, and—”

“James,” Regulus interrupts him, a wave of fondness washing through him against his will. He leans against the back of the sofa, some tension leaving his frame while he does his best to control the trembling of his hands. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” James retorts, and well, he’s right. It’s really not. Regulus wishes he had the strength to yell at the other man, or the courage to tell him to fuck off before hanging up on him. But he’s just so fucking relieved to be hearing his voice again. His bones sing just at the thought of James being at the other end of the line, and he finally feels like he’s coming home.

“Okay, it’s not,” Regulus agrees with a little sigh, closing his eyes briefly. “But I’m willing to hear you out.”

“You are?” James wonders, and Regulus can picture his puzzled expression so clearly. It almost manages to make him smile.

“Of course.”

“But why? I definitely don’t deserve it. In fact, I was so sure you were gonna hang up as soon as you realised it was me.”

The corners of Regulus’ mouth twitch, eyes falling upon his lap. “Because I miss you.”

James lets out a wounded noise, and Regulus understands the sentiment behind it a bit too well.

“I miss you, too,” the other man confesses in a whisper. Regulus thinks that if he weren’t still so aware of Dorcas’ presence beside him, he would’ve bursted into tears. “So much, baby. It almost killed me.”

It’s the ‘baby’ that actually gets a couple of tears to fall, and he has to shift his body slightly to make sure Dorcas doesn’t see. It’s not like his face had been in her line of sight, but he refuses to risk it. He’s already acting pathetic enough.

“When can I see you?” Regulus blurts out, not even bothering to hide his eagerness.

“Today?” James answers without missing a beat, and he sounds equally anxious. “I know it’s very sudden but, um, I really wanna see you, Reg. It’s been so long, and I feel like it’s better if I explain in person. There’s also something I need to talk to you about—”

Dread begins to pool at Regulus’ stomach. “Oh,” he murmurs, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What?” James asks, and Regulus can hear the frown in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just—” Regulus squirms, his grip on the phone tightening. “I don’t know, whenever someone starts a conversation in that way, it tends to always lead to the same thing.”

He tries to laugh a little at the end, but the noise comes out weak and strained and painfully forced.

“Regulus,” James says, his tone so soft it feels like a caress. “I still want you.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth to keep the idiotic smile at bay.

“Yeah,” James responds warmly. “Always, baby. I’m just not sure if you will want me after this.”

“I will,” Regulus tells him, his words firm, not leaving any room for argument. “It doesn’t matter what all this is about, James. That won’t change.”

“I hope so,” the other man whispers. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

“Please. I’m gonna send you my address and you let me know when you’re on your way, okay?”

“Okay, great.”

“Good.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Shut up,” Regulus mutters. His cheeks are already hurting from the force of his grin. “Me too,” he adds after a moment, speaking more quietly.

“Fuck,” James says, positively giddy. “I like you so much.”

Regulus laughs, and it sounds way too close to a giggle for his tastes.

“I like you too,” he murmurs under his breath.

“Stop it, it’s not fair that you’re being this sweet when I’m not there to kiss you for it,” James whines, making Regulus roll his eyes.

“Then hang up already and come here,” Regulus huffs out.

“Fine,” James drawls, his tone filled with amusement. “I’ll be there, okay? I promise.”

Regulus swallows before nodding slightly to himself. He isn’t sure if he should trust James, not after what he’s done, but he really fucking wants to. “Okay,” he manages to reply.

After that, the line goes dead.

It takes Regulus a handful of seconds to pull the phone away from his ear, his hand still holding onto it a bit too aggressively. Regardless, he forces himself to save James’ number and then sends him a quick text with trembling fingers, before he shares his location with him.

The answer is almost immediate, and Regulus could actually sob in relief.

James informs him that they don’t live that far from each other, and that driving to Regulus’ flat shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes. He also says that he has to run a couple of errands first, so he’ll probably be there in an hour or two. Regulus exhales quietly, and tells James that that’s fine, and that he’ll be waiting for him.

The other man sends him a heart, and it’s as painful as an arrow through his chest.

When he finally lets go of the device, puts it back on the table, and dares to turn and look at Dorcas for the first time since James called, he isn’t shocked to find judgement all over her face. She has her arms crossed over her chest and wrinkles covering her entire forehead. Regulus thinks he should feel ashamed of himself for giving in so easily, or at least a little remorseful, but he’s still riding the high of having heard James’ voice.

His brain isn’t convinced that the other man will show up just yet, because this isn’t the first time someone he cares about has broken their promise, and he’s been abandoned before. That’s a kind of trauma Regulus hasn’t quite managed to get rid of or ignore. It still affects him to the point of destruction.

Maybe that’s also why Sirius has been on his mind more than usual lately.

“Regulus,” Dorcas begins, voice tight.

“Save it,” he sighs with a shake of his head. “I’m not in the mood for a scolding. I know, okay?”

“I don’t think you do, actually.”

“Dorcas, please—”

“You can’t trust him, Reg,” she states sharply, narrowing her eyes at him slightly. “He disappeared for a whole fucking month with no explanation—”

“I’m aware, and I haven’t forgiven him for it—”

“Bullshit. You were giggling while talking to him on the phone.”

“It took me by surprise, okay?” Regulus protests half-heartedly, unable to stop himself from pouting. “But obviously things aren’t gonna be fixed just like that—”

“Really? Because you could’ve fooled me,” she scoffs. “You shouldn’t even entertain the idea. There isn’t a good enough reason for ghosting someone for a month without a heads-up.”

“You don’t get it—”

“And I don’t want to. He can go fuck himself for all I care.”

“Don’t,” Regulus snaps, raising his voice unintentionally. He forces himself to take a deep breath before continuing, not wanting to turn this into an argument. More than it already is, that is. “Listen, it must’ve been very hard on him, and it’s not like—I can’t pretend that I don’t care about him, Cas. I—I like him, I really fucking do—”

“Oh, I know, I was there for your little confession—”

“And I need to do this,” he continues, undeterred. “I need to hear what he has to say, and then decide for myself. Yes, maybe I’m making a mistake but that’s my choice. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Dorcas answers without missing a beat, some of the anger leaving her expression and being replaced by what Regulus recognises as concern. “But as your best friend, I’m allowed to be worried and give you some advice when I’m positive you’re about to fuck up real badly.”

“Well, even if I do, at least I’ll get a nice fuck from it,” Regulus tries to joke, but it only earns him a very unimpressed stare.

“Regulus,” Dorcas deadpans, and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” he groans before getting up from the couch. “I’ll be extra careful. You know, there’s a high chance I’ll punch him in the face if he actually shows up at my door—”

“He will, if he knows what’s good for him.”

“And if this goes wrong, you’ll be able to gloat—”

“That’s so not the point—”

“Please, don’t pretend like you don’t love to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Depends on the situation,” Dorcas sniffs, lifting her chin a little. “But I’ve seen how devastated you’ve been this past month, and I don’t wanna see you hurt like that ever again.”

“Should’ve seen me when my brother left me,” Regulus mutters quietly, but if the frown that twists Dorcas’ features is anything to go by, she definitely heard him. “I’ll be fine, Cas. If nothing else, the ghosting was a bit of a wake-up call, so I won’t be so quick to believe everything that comes out of James’ mouth.”

“Good,” she says, but she doesn’t sound very convinced. “At the end of the day, it’s your decision, just—don’t be rash. Take everything he says with a grain of salt.”

Regulus nods firmly. “I swear,” he tells her, and he isn’t even lying. Now that the shock and excitement are slowly but surely vanishing, Regulus is beginning to feel a bit wary about this meet-up. A bit upset, even. “Now make yourself scarce. I need to clean before James gets here.”

Dorcas scoffs loudly, but she listens, standing up from the couch and grabbing her purse. She glares at Regulus the whole time, pushing her braids over her shoulders with pursed lips.

“Un fucking believable,” she mumbles while she starts making her way towards the door. “Doing all this for a man.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a disgrace, whatever,” Regulus sighs, picking up dirty clothes at a speed that surprises even him. “I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“You better!”

“Love you! You’re the best!”

“I know I am, fuck off!”

Regulus laughs softly, almost at the same time as Dorcas closes the door behind her. He really doesn’t know what he’d do without her.

***

By the time James knocks on his door, Regulus isn’t feeling any of the previous excitement. In fact, and if he’s being honest, he’s actually a little mad.

He supposes it makes sense. A month is a very long time, and it took a toll, no matter how much Regulus missed James and how happy he had been to hear his voice again. After spending the last couple of hours cleaning like a madman and finally taking a very much needed shower, he’s had some time to think. To analyse his feelings better, to properly consider what James’ return means to him. To both of them.

The truth is that Regulus isn’t sure. Part of him wants to jump into the other man’s arms, wants to forgive him for everything and forget it ever happened in the first place. But he can’t. He knows it would lead to resentment, to unnecessary fights, to a ridiculous amount of insecurity Regulus doesn’t need on top of everything else. One of the main reasons why he has a hard time letting others in is because he’s terrified they’ll end up leaving. James basically confirmed one of his worst fears, even if he had come back after all, and despite how little he likes it, Regulus is aware that they need to address it.

He really hopes that James has a good enough explanation. Regulus wants to be with him, more than he’s ever wanted anything in years, but he isn’t sure his mind will allow it.

When he yanks the door open—after checking through the peephole that it is, indeed, James, and his heart skipping a beat at the sight, the traitor—Regulus makes sure to cross his arms over his chest, keeping his expression carefully blank as he takes in the other man.

James looks a little worse for wear, and it’s almost enough to make Regulus frown. His hair is a mess, more than usual, as if he’s either been running his hands through it or just got out of bed, which simply can’t be, because it’s a weekday and it’s nearly dinnertime. There are dark bags under his eyes, and he’s sporting a stubble, like he hasn’t bothered to shave in weeks. Regulus could also swear that he’s a bit thinner than when he last saw him, and the moment his eyes slide a bit lower, he discovers that James’ hands are trembling where they’re hanging at his sides.

It isn’t enough to make his anger go away, but it does soften him up a little, some emotion slipping into his face when his gaze meets James’.

“Hey,” the other man croaks out, attempting a smile that looks more like a grimace than anything else.

“Hello,” Regulus says in response, relieved to hear his voice does not waver.

“Can I—” James starts, pausing to clear his throat a little as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Can I hug you?”

Regulus’ eyes widen minutely, and he takes a step back without giving it too much thought. He regrets it the moment hurt flashes through James’ face, but he still squares his jaw and decides to own up to it.

“I’m not sure, James,” he tells him quietly, and the other man curls a little into himself.

“Oh,” James whispers, small and strained. “That’s—that’s fine. I get it. I guess that one’s on me, huh?”

He laughs, but it comes out all wrong, and Regulus can only wince, some of his defences falling when he catches the brightness in James’ eyes, the tears gathering at the corners.

God, when did he become this weak?

Regulus pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a small groan. “Fine, okay. We can do one hug.”

James visibly perks up at this, blinking rapidly, and Regulus hates the way warmth spreads all over his chest at the sight.

“You sure?” the other man questions even as he moves forward. Always so annoyingly respectful.

“Yeah,” Regulus sighs, opening his arms with feigned reluctance. “Come here before I change my mind.”

James doesn’t need to be told twice. Less than a second later he’s crashing into Regulus, both of them tumbling inside the flat while a grunt slips past Regulus’ lips. It’s hard to keep them stable, especially when James is so big and is holding him so tightly, but Regulus somehow manages. He even closes the door with one hand, slamming it so hard both he and James flinch slightly, but, well, it’s all he can do when the other man has him trapped in his arms.

It doesn’t take Regulus too long to relax into James’ embrace, one of his hands finding refuge in the other man’s hair while the other one digs into his back with nothing short of desperation. James whimpers pitifully when Regulus’ fingers scratch at his scalp, and Regulus feels like he could cry.

He has no idea of how he managed to go a month without this. He isn’t sure of what James wants to talk about, or what excuse he has for his behaviour, but Regulus already knows that he’s going to forgive him. Maybe not now, maybe not any time soon, but eventually. There’s no way he’s depriving himself of this again if he can help it.

Regulus isn’t sure of how long they stay there, hugging in the middle of the hall, not exchanging a single word and simply gripping onto each other as if they’re reuniting for the first time in years. A bit dramatic, if you ask him, but Regulus isn’t planning on letting go until James does. He isn’t ready to stop touching the other man, to what breaking the embrace means. He wants to stay here forever, pretending that there’s no problems, that there’s no conversation to be had.

After a little while, though, they have to pull back. Regulus isn’t sure who starts to move away first, but they both end up leaning back nearly at the same time, doing so slowly and clearly not happy about it.

The moment their eyes meet, arms still around each other and faces a bit too close, Regulus knows it’s a losing battle. There’s maybe a beat or two of silent staring, and then they’re both diving in, lips meeting desperately and with a hunger that can’t be contained.

Regulus whines at the sensation of finally having James’ mouth against his once again, and the other man doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of it, slipping his tongue through Regulus’ parted lips. He’s careful as he explores inside, as if trying to make sure that nothing has changed, that everything is exactly as he remembers.

It makes him shiver, James pulling his body even closer when their tongues meet and tangle, twin sounds escaping them both and getting drowned in their kiss.

They begin moving, and Regulus doesn’t know if it’s him dragging James towards the living room or if it’s James pushing him inside. But they stumble through the flat, stopping occasionally to kiss more comfortably against a wall, with James slipping a thigh between Regulus’ legs and pressing lightly, giving him a tease but never the relief he’s beginning to crave.

Somehow, they manage to make it to the couch without falling or breaking anything, and Regulus pats himself on the shoulder mentally for having done such a good job at tidying up his home.

When James ends up sprawled on the sofa, Regulus takes a moment to look at the other man, face all flashed and a bulge already showing at the front of his pants. His glasses sit askew on his nose, and his eyes are dark and bright, drinking Regulus in, never stopping on one part of him for too long, always greedy for more, ready to consume him whole.

Regulus’ heart feels about ready to burst out of his chest.

He settles on James’ lap like he fucking belongs there, and James’ hands are on his hips in an instant, urging him to move against him while he joins their lips in an open-mouthed kiss once more. Regulus can’t help but grin into James’ eager mouth, trapping the other man’s bottom lip between his teeth and pulling at it teasingly, aware of how crazy it drives James.

The other man moans softly, and then he’s pulling back just so he can put his mouth on Regulus’ neck, dropping wet kiss after wet kiss, sucking a little here and there and making Regulus pant, his eyes fluttering closed.

It’s when one of James’ hands slides down to grab Regulus’ ass, squeezing a bit too harshly and breathing heavily against the side of his throat, that Regulus realises something’s wrong.

Sure, James is clearly aroused, and eager, and there’s no doubt that he wants Regulus, which is, frankly, a relief. He had already said as much on the phone, but it’s always nice to have a proper confirmation, especially when he’s going to be struggling to trust James’ words for a while.

But his heart isn’t in it. James is too inside his own mind, and Regulus only needs to lean back slightly, taking a peek at the other man’s face, to be able to tell. Their relationship might have not started in the most conventional way, but if nothing else, Regulus is able to read James’ body language like his own. They can be a bit of a mess when it comes to other stuff, but they’re experts at intimacy, and Regulus knows when James is using it to hide.

He ceases all movement, grabbing a fistful of James’ hair and pulling tenderly, forcing him to pull away from his neck. James makes a confused noise, but he obeys regardless, eyes unfocused when they settle on Regulus’ face.

“What’s wrong?” the other man questions, a furrow already appearing between his eyebrows.

“I should be the one asking you that,” Regulus retorts, staring at James pointedly.

James blinks. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“What’s going on?” Regulus presses a little, giving another tug at James’ curls before his hand moves until it’s resting on his cheek. “We were kissing, and it was lovely, but you weren’t really there.”

James averts his gaze, grimacing slightly. Regulus doesn’t let him, however, using the hold he has on his face to make their eyes meet once more. James is biting the inside of his cheek, and he looks about ready to bolt.

Not this time, though. Regulus isn’t letting him go again.

“It’s nothing,” James murmurs, the lie so obvious it’s kind of pathetic. “Let’s just go back to—”

“No,” Regulus refuses with a firm shake of his head. “You’re not okay. We’re not doing anything until we talk.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Would you fuck me if I was very clearly not in the mood?”

“Never,” James responds without missing a beat, tone going a little sharp. Regulus gives him an approving nod.

“Exactly,” he says, before sliding off James’ lap and sitting beside. He watches as the other man straightens up a little, smoothing his black jumper and adjusting himself in his pants.

Regulus has to look away, feeling a little flustered at the action, even though they’ve done a lot worse. Perhaps it’s because he can’t help but be a little affected at the fact that even when he clearly isn’t in the best headspace, James is still so easily turned on by Regulus.

It has been a while, he supposes. But it’s not like they’ve done a lot apart from kissing.

“I did come here to explain, I guess,” James concedes in a mutter, squirming in his seat in an attempt to find a comfortable enough position.

Regulus hums noncommittally, his attention never leaving James, even if the other man seems to be making a point of looking everywhere but at him.

“I’d like to know why you ghosted me for a month, yes,” Regulus says, keeping his tone neutral.

“It was not ghosting,” James protests, his gaze meeting Regulus’ briefly. As soon as he raises an eyebrow, however, James looks away. “I mean, I didn’t intend it to be ghosting.”

“What am I supposed to call it, then? You disappeared for weeks with no explanation—”

“I know. I know. I’m so sorry, Reg, that was never the plan, I swear—”

“Why? Why did you do it, James? We had that conversation in the plane, we said we wanted to give it a try, to be together. You said you were gonna call me—”

“And I was!” James exclaims, pushing his glasses up his nose and then using the same hand to mess up his hair. Regulus ignores the urge to fix those unruly curls of his. “I was. The idea was to get home, unpack, and then send you a text immediately, check if you were available to talk for a bit. But then…”

“Then…?” Regulus prompts, leaning forward slightly.

“It’s just—” James stops and sighs deeply, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s been so hard. More than expected. And there’ve been some… discoveries.”

He grimaces when he utters that last sentence, and Regulus’ body goes stiff almost immediately.

“What do you mean?” Regulus asks, not bothering to hide the wariness in his voice.

“I don’t even know where to start with all this,” James huffs. All of a sudden, he seems so very tired.

“At the beginning,” Regulus says a bit drily. “You got home, and the plan was to call me, but then you never did. What happened?”

James nods to himself, taking a deep breath before he allows his gaze to lock onto Regulus’. “I went to my parents’ house, because I couldn’t—I couldn’t go to the flat I used to share with Lily. It was too soon, and I wasn’t sure if she had arrived yet, but I just—” he pauses, shifting. “Going to my parents felt like the safest option.”

Regulus makes sure to keep his face in check, even though he’s ridiculously baffled by this information. It’s been years already, and yet, he’s still a little startled when other people speak like going to their parents when they’re in trouble or struggling is the most normal thing in the world.

There’s also a pang of jealousy, but it’s subtle enough that he can usually ignore it without issue.

“I knew I was gonna have to go at some point to grab all my things but…” James continues, oblivious to Regulus’ internal battle.

“It was too soon?” he finishes for him.

“Yeah. Way too soon.”

“And then?”

“Well, I got there, and they were happy to see me at first. We hugged and I cried a little and my mum told me that she had gotten my old room ready for me.”

“They had been expecting you,” Regulus guesses, beginning to understand where this story is going.

James nods, his lips curving in a little smile. It’s a brittle thing, filled with sorrow. “Yeah. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, considering I told them about the show, and they had promised to watch. My mum hadn’t been thrilled, because she didn’t like the idea of me and Lily being part of that kind of program but—well, they’re very supportive.”

“That’s nice,” Regulus mutters. Despite being such a loyal follower of Temptation Island, he can’t really fault James’ mother for being so against it.

He’s convinced that Walburga Black would have a stroke if she ever saw Regulus in the show. Especially considering everything he and James did towards the end.

Regulus does try to not think of her too much. He doesn’t miss her, exactly, or his father for that matter, but sometimes it can be a little hard. They’re still his parents, after all, and when he’s feeling low, or going for a rough patch he can’t help but wonder.

Orion had died before Regulus had left home, but his mother…

“Not when it comes to this,” James mumbles, pulling Regulus out of his daze. “After they ushered me inside and I had calmed down a little, their attitudes… shifted. They were so disappointed, Reg. My mum especially. She was so angry at me. She still is, actually.”

The other man sounds so upset over it; Regulus can tell that he’s close to his parents, that he admires them both quite a lot, and his heart breaks a little, guilt seeping through the cracks.

“James,” he calls him softly, but the other man shakes his head a little, his gaze downcast as his hands clench and unclench where they’re resting on his lap.

“They allowed me to stay regardless, of course, but we didn’t—they barely spoke to me, Reg.” James blinks fast and a little violently, and for a terrifying moment, Regulus is convinced that he’s going to start crying. “My mum asked me so many questions, trying to understand, but we always ended up arguing, and she couldn’t look me in the eye during meals. She kept bringing up Lily and I couldn’t—I was so fucking miserable.”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” Regulus murmurs, one of his hands about to reach out before he catches himself. He isn’t sure James wants to be touched right now.

“It’s not your fault,” James responds, and Regulus can barely suppress a flinch, because, well. He wouldn’t be so sure about that. “But that first night I couldn’t bring myself to call you, and then it kept getting worse, and I kept putting it off.”

“I understand. I still would’ve appreciated a little heads-up, but—”

“I know. I should’ve told you what was going on, or at least mention that I wasn’t ready to talk just yet—”

“Yes, you should have,” Regulus cuts him off, albeit not unkindly. “But I get why you didn’t. Those weeks on island were fun, but they were also very stressful and upsetting for multiple reasons. Going back home should’ve been a comfort, but it only made you feel even worse.”

James lifts his head, staring at Regulus a little teary-eyed. “Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “It’s still no excuse, though—”

“No,” Regulus concedes, tentatively sliding his hand over the space between their bodies, his fingers grazing one of James’ knees. “But I understand now. And that makes a difference.”

The other man startles, blinking down at Regulus’ hand like he can’t comprehend what’s happening. Regulus is about to pull away, when James finally processes the gesture and rushes to reciprocate it, his own hand moving until it covers Regulus’. James gives it a squeeze, the corners of his mouth threatening to curl up when their eyes meet. Regulus can’t resist turning his hand until their palms presses against each other and he can intertwine his fingers with James’.

Oh, this is going to be a lot harder than Regulus had thought.

“It does?” James wonders, almost like he’s too scared to believe it.

“Yeah,” Regulus admits, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Reg.” James says his name so gently, with a reverence that makes goosebumps break all over Regulus’ skin. James leans forward slightly, moving closer in the process, a glint in his hazel eyes, and Regulus swallows thickly, too happy about the proximity even though he shouldn’t be.

“And what happened after?” he questions after he clears his throat, unsure how he feels about the fact that it stops James’ advancement.

James scratches at his stubble distractedly and shrugs with just one shoulder. “Well, um, after a couple of weeks my dad started relaxing a bit around me, so that was nice. Things weren’t back to normal, they still aren’t, but he’s… trying, I guess? I can have a normal conversation with him, at least. And he—” James glances at Regulus, before averting his gaze with a tiny smile. “He’s been asking about you.”

Regulus’ eyes widen, colour rushing to his cheeks at a concerning pace. “What?”

“Yeah,” James confirms, his grin widening. “He wanted to know about the pretty boy who apparently stole my heart. His words, by the way.”

“Shut up, your father did not say that,” Regulus hisses, dragging a soft chuckle out of James.

“He did!” the other man insists, and Regulus’ face feels like it’s burning. “I was a bit wary at first but I know my dad. I can tell when he’s being genuine. He really—he’s looking forward to meeting you, you know?”

A knot forms between Regulus’ vocal cords. It’s not too tight, and it’s not very uncomfortable, regardless of how aware he is of its presence. But it’s still very much there, like an annoying reminder.

He wants to be happy about this development. In fact, he thinks a tiny part of him might be, because there’s something so sweet about James’ father wanting to get to know him, wanting to welcome him in his son’s life.

It’s also terrifying, though. Not only because Regulus has a very complicated relationship with parents, even those who aren’t his own, but also because of what it implies. The possibility of meeting James’ father is a lot. Regulus is serious about James, and he knows—thinks—that the feeling is mutual. But that’s just too much, too soon.

Regulus isn’t ready for that kind of commitment.

“Not—” he starts, hating how hoarse his voice sounds. “Not yet.”

James tilts his head as he stares at him, his smile not dimming in the slightest. “Not yet,” he repeats, considering. “But someday?”

Regulus gulps, and surprisingly, it serves to untangle the knot a little. “Someday,” he agrees, even with fear clawing at his gut.

“I can work with that,” James tells him, sounding ridiculously pleased. “Anyways, things with my mum didn’t get much better, so I ended up deciding I was gonna be staying with some friends instead.”

Regulus nods, because he thinks he knows which friends James is talking about. Back on the island, he always mentioned these two blokes who were a couple and despite never giving Regulus too much information about them, he could tell they’re all very close just by the way in which James spoke about them.

“I don’t know why it took me so long to do it…” James sighs with a shake of his head. “Maybe it’s because I’ve always had a hard time letting go of my parents, or maybe it’s because you weren’t the only person I had been ghosting.”

Regulus wrinkles his nose, and James offers him a wry smile before squeezing his hand softly.

“I had texted my friends once or twice since coming back, and I had even called them, but only one of them would pick up or message back, so I could tell that something was up,” James goes on, his grin starting to fall and shoulders going a little rigid. “I assumed it was related to me and what had happened on the show, and I was terrified of losing them, so I kept my distance.”

“Until living with your parents became too much,” Regulus guesses, eyes narrowed as they roam over James’ expression.

“Exactly,” the other man agrees with a tilt of his head. “Besides, it wasn’t like I could ignore them forever.”

“You did try with me,” Regulus comments offhandedly, not meaning to sound as bitter as he does.

James seems to wither further. “I—I know, and I’m so sorry, it wasn’t—I never meant to—”

“It’s fine, James, I was teasing,” Regulus says before the other man can start rambling once again. It’s not true, but it also isn’t exactly a lie. “You moved in with your friends, and then?”

“Um,” James murmurs, squirming. He looks like he’s about to break into a sweat, and a few alarms start going off inside Regulus’ head. “When I first mentioned it to Remus, I assumed he was gonna refuse, or try to delay it as much as possible, because like I said, I could tell that something was wrong and that it was related to me in some way. But he agreed instantly, and even offered to help with the moving, because he knew I didn’t wanna go to the flat and risk seeing Lily.”

Regulus nods slowly, letting the other man know that he’s following along.

“I was a little surprised, but also really fucking relieved.” James runs a hand through his hair, pulling anxiously at the strands. “It gave me some hope, like—perhaps not everything is lost, right? If my friends are still okay with me being there, then maybe… maybe I can still fix it.”

Regulus wants to tell him that of course he can still fix it, not only when it comes to his friends, but also when it comes to his parents. He wants to hug him and promise him that everything’s going to be just fine, that they’ll figure it out together.

But he bites his tongue and stays in place, his free hand twitching on his lap. Telling Regulus this isn’t easy for James, and it’s clear that he needs some space to get it all out.

“My dad helped me bring all my things, even though he didn’t have to. I have a car, and most of my stuff was still at the flat, but he insisted. It meant a lot to me,” James sighs, gaze softening considerably. “He didn’t try to convince me to stay with him and mum, which I appreciated. It would’ve made it a lot harder, especially when I knew she didn’t want me there.”

“I’m sure she did want you there,” Regulus can’t help but intervene, thumb beginning to caress James’ hand. “It was just difficult for her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that,” James mumbles, breathing out a little shakily. “I just—I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Nothing wrong with that, James. You gotta look after yourself, too.”

The other man gives half a nod, but he doesn’t seem like he agrees. Not completely.

“Remus came downstairs to help with the suitcases, and I spent the whole journey upstairs hyping myself up, because I could tell a conversation was coming. And it was gonna be a serious one.” James’ eyes fall onto his lap, and he squeezes Regulus’ hand with a desperate grip this time, to the point it borders on painful. “But I didn’t—nothing could’ve prepared me for what was coming.”

“What was it?” Regulus asks a bit urgently, returning James’ anxious hold.

The other man snaps his head up, a plea shining in his gaze. “I didn’t know, Reg. I swear I didn’t. I’m aware that my word is probably worth nothing to you at this point, but I—I would’ve told you. If I had known, I would’ve told you immediately. You have to believe me—”

“James, you’re scaring me,” Regulus says quietly, his heart beating frantically inside his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Regulus. I really am.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I should’ve known. It’s so obvious now, but when I first met you I couldn’t—I didn’t notice the similarities. You had the same fucking surname, and yet I didn’t—”

“James, you’re not making any sense—”

“I think it was because I didn’t know you existed?”

Regulus blinks, and then opens his mouth once, no sound coming out of it, before he closes it again. “I beg your fucking pardon?” he manages to blurt out after a couple more failed attempts.

“Yeah, I mean, you can’t expect me to draw the connection when Sirius had never mentioned you, and I also thought you were an only child, so really—” James continues, tripping over his words as they continue to pour out of him without break.

Regulus stops listening almost as soon as he hears the name. That goddamn name. It’s been haunting him for years, but he thinks this is the first time he’s heard someone other than him utter it since he was a fucking teenager.

James is still talking but Regulus’ ears are ringing, and it feels like the floor tilts under him, his free hand reaching out to grab the side of the couch and keep himself upright. A wave of nausea hits him, but he swallows it back down, barely repressing a gag.

There’s no way. There’s simply no fucking way. What are the odds that of all the people in this city, Regulus would end up falling for one of the few that is a friend of Sirius? And a very close friend at that, considering all the times James mentioned him during Temptation Island, even though Regulus hadn’t known it was Sirius back then.

It’s just his luck that the first guy he’s interested in in a while is best friends with his estranged brother. Because god forbid Regulus has something only for himself.

“Reg?” James calls his name, his voice reaching him muffled, almost like he’s underwater. “Regulus?”

He blinks a few times, doing his best to return to the present, but memories keep trying to drag him down and the only thing echoing inside his brain is his brother’s name, again and again, until it stops feeling like an actual word.

Regulus is completely numb, barely aware of his limbs, but he also thinks he might be sick as soon as he opens his mouth, which would be very embarrassing for many reasons.

“Reg, baby, please, say something,” James presses, and it’s a little clearer this time, but Regulus doesn’t know if it’s because the other man is raising his voice or if it’s because he’s slowly but surely going back to himself. “You’re worrying me.”

“Sorry,” he manages to blurt out, his tongue heavy inside his mouth, his throat painfully dry. “I’m sorry, I just—I think I need a moment.”

“Of course.” James is nodding frantically, and then he moves a little closer, a furrow in his brow. “Anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t think so,” Regulus mutters, suddenly realising how harshly he’s been gripping James’ hand. He wonders if maybe he’s commented on it, or complained while Regulus was completely out of it, so he loosens his hold a little, just in case. “It’s just—it’s been so fucking long—”

“Yeah, Sirius told me.” James winces, almost like it physically pains him. “He explained everything once I got to the flat. Turns out that the reason why he had been avoiding me was because he needed some time to process. Apparently watching your best friend having sex with your estranged little brother on national television is more than a little shocking.”

Regulus can tell that James is attempting to lighten the mood a little, to help him relax. But that final statement only serves to make him feel faint, the air knocking out of him as Regulus swallows another wave of nausea.

“Oh my fucking god,” he says, strained. “Sirius did—he watched—”

James cringes, looking away from him before he nods once. “Yeah… He did tell me he was gonna be following the show even though he can’t stand those kinds of programs just because of me.”

“Kill me now,” Regulus groans, letting go of James just so he can use both hands to cover his face. “Just fucking kill me now—”

“Imagine how I felt—”

“At least he’s not your brother, James!”

“Sure, but it was still pretty embarrassing,” the other man whines, crossing his arms over his chest. “Also, just plain upsetting, because Sirius told me that, um, you and him didn’t say goodbye in the best of terms?”

Regulus snorts, spreading his fingers just so he can take a peek at James, giving him a very flat look. Understatement of the century, really.

“We didn’t actually say goodbye,” Regulus scoffs, finally pulling his hands away from his face. “He left in the middle of the night, back when I was fifteen. Haven’t seen him since.”

James looks positively devastated on Regulus’ behalf, which is very sweet, but it’s something he can’t fully appreciate, considering he’s too busy trying not to lose his fucking shit. This is way too much information for him to take in. Regulus is still stuck on his brother’s name coming out of James’ mouth. He had already been anxious enough about this conversation without Sirius getting involved.

There’s some irony to be found in his brother being able to ruin everything for him even when he isn’t physically present. Even when it’s been years since they’ve talked to each other.

He’s sort of expecting James to reach out and try to touch him, but he must feel as out of his element as Regulus does because he remains unexpectedly still as he continues to watch Regulus. The emotion shining in his eyes is way too close to pity for Regulus’ comfort, and it’s not helping with his deteriorating mood.

“Yes, he also mentioned something about that,” James sighs.

“Oh, I seriously doubt it. He probably painted me like an absolute monster and justified every single one of his actions,” Regulus huffs out with a bitter roll of his eyes.

“You’d be surprised,” James says tentatively. “I don’t think he’s the kid you remember.”

Regulus clenches his jaw. “You know what? You’re probably right. I guess I don’t know my brother anymore. I don’t think I ever really did.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“Maybe,” James concedes, albeit reluctantly. “But this could be your chance to change that—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Regulus cuts in, raising one hand while his gaze hardens. “This doesn’t mean anything to me. Sure, it’s quite the shock, and I’m not exactly happy about finding out that my brother—who I had no intentions of seeing again, mind you—is best friends with my—” Regulus catches himself before he says something too embarrassing, but considering the way James’ expression brightens slightly, he doesn’t quite succeed. “Whatever you are to me,” he ends up settling on, hoping that his blush isn’t too noticeable.

“Anything you want me to be, baby,” James replies without missing a beat, adding a cheeky wink for an effect, which doesn’t help with the red covering Regulus’ cheeks.

“Now’s not the time to flirt, James.”

“It’s always the time to flirt if you’re involved, Reg.”

“Okay, shut it, we’re getting derailed—”

“Sorry, this is how I cope when I’m stressed,” the other man murmurs with an apologetic smile, and honestly, Regulus can’t even remember how he managed to get angry at James so often during Temptation Island.

He supposes there’s a reason why that never lasted very long.

“Why would you be stressed?” Regulus grumbles, already feeling his mouth beginning to twist into a pout. “You’ve had time to process and it’s not like this is your brother we’re talking about—”

“Sure, but as you can imagine, Sirius wasn’t very happy with me fucking his little brother multiple times,” James interrupts him a little drily.

“Why, though? It’s none of his business. And it’s not like he actually cares. He didn’t even care that much when we lived together, so what changed?”

James presses his lips in a thin line. “Reg, he does care—”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Reg—”

“James, he fucking doesn’t.”

The other man stares at him, and by the way James squints his eyes at Regulus, vein popping out a bit on his forehead, he can tell that he wants to argue further. But sometimes James knows how to pick his battles. He doesn’t say anything else, contenting himself instead with a loud exhale.

“Okay,” James mutters after a tense moment of silence. “What are we gonna do about it, then?”

Regulus cocks his head to the side. “What do you mean? We’re not gonna do anything. It’s not ideal that Sirius is your best friend, you should reconsider your taste in mates—”

“Oi,” James protests half-heartedly. Regulus can only wrinkle his nose; of course Sirius has him trained to get automatically offended when someone says something mean about him.

“But we’re all adults here. If you tell me that Sirius told you to break up with me, or some shit like that—”

“Of course not!” James exclaims, mildly horrified. “He did let me know that he isn’t thrilled about us being together, and things have been a little strained between us these past weeks, but he isn’t getting involved.”

“Good,” Regulus states.

“Also ‘break up’?” James questions with an arched eyebrow. “Didn’t know we had made it official.”

Regulus keeps his face carefully neutral. “Well, you fell off the face of the earth, so.”

James ducks his head down, clearly regretting his pathetic attempt at flustering Regulus, and honestly, it serves him well. This man doesn’t know when to stop.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“You’ve already apologised for it a dozen times,” Regulus huffs out, doing his best to hide the fondness in his voice.

“I know, and it still doesn’t feel like enough,” James admits with a little shrug. “I really don’t wanna fuck this up, Reg. I—I care a lot about you.”

Regulus’ traitorous heart skips a beat immediately.

“I care about you too,” he confesses, despising how shy he sounds all of a sudden. “And you’re not fucking anything up, James. Yet.”

“So reassuring,” James chuckles, some of the tension finally leaving his frame.

“We didn’t have the best start, that’s true, and I’m still not over the whole ghosting situation, but you explained, and I do understand why it happened, and—” Regulus sighs heavily, rubbing at his temples. “I guess I really want to be with you, if I’m willing to look past this mess and the fact that you’re close friends with my goddamn brother.”

“Yeah?” James beams at him, and he’s never looked more like a puppy than right now. Regulus can almost see his wagging tail.

“Yeah,” Regulus murmurs, feigning annoyance.

James is falling forward a second later, putting his hand on Regulus’ cheek and pecking him sweetly on the lips, his grin still very much present on his lips.

Regulus is a little bit startled at first, but he’s come to trust James enough that he doesn’t flinch or try to lean back. As soon as he realises what just happened, he huffs loudly before diving back in, pecking James back. Although Regulus isn’t sure if his kiss can be considered a peck, because he lingers more than James did, even moving his mouth against the other man’s, humming in approval when James reciprocates with ease, sliding his hand from his cheek to the back of his neck.

When they pull apart, they’re both smiling like absolute idiots, and Regulus can’t take it for long, so he ends up pressing his palm against James’ stupidly handsome face and pushing him away.

He thinks he’s gone through the entire spectrum of emotions in the last two hours, and if Regulus is being honest, he’s a little overwhelmed. Not in a bad way, exactly, but it’s still a lot.

Regulus doesn’t doubt that he’ll be having a bit of a breakdown over his brother at some point tonight, once James leaves and he gets some time to be on his own and think. Although, he wouldn’t be opposed to the other man spending the night if James is up to it… He knows that he shouldn’t, because he’s supposed to be holding his ground and allowing both of them to heal, but, fuck, Regulus has missed James so much. He still can’t fully believe they’re sitting right next to each other on Regulus’ tiny sofa, discussing them and their relationship.

There hadn’t been any hope left for Regulus after all those silent weeks, so this all feels very surreal. Can he really have this? Even if it implies dealing with Sirius at some point, even if it’s bound to be difficult, especially at the beginning. Does he truly deserve it?

His phone vibrates, and Regulus jumps a little, reaching out to take it out of his pocket. He smiles softly when he checks and realises it’s a text from Dorcas, checking up on him and asking if he needs any backup. It’s followed by a selfie of her and Marlene; she’s arching her eyebrow at the camera, while Marlene is sticking her tongue out, middle finger standing up proudly. They seem to be at some sort of pub, and Regulus would bet anything that it’s the one on Dorcas’ street. She used to work there, so the manager still gives her free drinks when she goes.

“Who is it?” James questions, and Regulus stiffens momentarily, but when he lifts his head and sees the other man’s expression, open and curious, he relaxes immediately.

“Just Dorcas,” he tells him with a vague move of his hand. “She knew you were coming today, and she worries. She was actually very against us talking, but that’s because she can be very protective over me. She’s out with Marlene, though, so she should be in a good mood. She’s been more amenable since they started going out, but I guess that’s what getting laid regularly will do to you,” Regulus rambles on as he quickly texts his friend back, assuring her that everything’s fine. “Lesbians. They always go so fast…”

“Wait,” James blurts out, and Regulus frowns a little, because the other man suddenly sounds a bit off. “Wait a fucking second. Time-out.”

Regulus presses ‘send’ and then he’s putting the phone back inside his pocket, all his focus on James, already feeling the tell-tale sign of anxiety pooling in his gut.

“What? What is it?” he asks, moving closer to James.

Something like dread slips between his ribs when the other man moves away instinctively.

Regulus doesn’t understand. How did he fuck up this time? What the hell did he do now, when things have finally started to look up?

“Dorcas is a lesbian?” James questions, tone tight, face unreadable.

“Uh,” Regulus says eloquently, the palms of his hands beginning to sweat. Why does he feel that there’s a correct answer to this? “Yes? Is there a problem?”

“Kind of, yeah,” James says coldly, pulling at the sleeves of his jumper. “Mostly because she was your girlfriend less than two months ago and you were madly in love.”

Oh. Oh.

Regulus stares at the other man without a response for a bit too long, completely at a loss for words and cursing himself out for being such a fucking idiot. God, he can’t believe he forgot about the whole charade, about keeping up with it for at least a bit longer, at least until James stopped asking about Dorcas.

But the thing is, Regulus was always going to have to come clean about it at some point. Dorcas is such an important part of his life, and he doesn’t want to hide it forever, not from someone who is supposed to become his boyfriend at some point.

“Listen, James—” he begins, words coming out a little shaky.

James raises one hand, silencing him immediately. “Don’t even try. Were you and Dorcas ever together?”

“No,” Regulus admits, fingers digging painfully into his clothed thighs. “But—”

“So you’ve been lying to me this whole time,” James states blankly, and it’s not a question. His are eyes set on Regulus, a certain hardness to them he doesn’t think he’s ever seen directed at him. It’s fucking awful. “Cheers.”

James is on his feet a second later, making his way towards the door without a moment of hesitation, and it takes Regulus a moment to react, running after him with his heart beating so furiously he basically feels it in his throat.

“Wait!” he yells, stopping the other man right when he reaches the entrance of the flat, sliding between James and the door, arms spread. “Please, James, just let me explain—”

“What’s there to explain?” the other man scoffs, lips curled. “You spent the whole show lying to everyone. I cried to you about how terrible I felt about cheating, how conflicted I was about the situation, and you sat there, and comforted me, before looking me in the eye and telling me you understood. But you didn’t. You never did. You were just having fun, right?”

“No, James, that’s not—” Regulus mumbles, a bit desperately, shaking his head. “I mean, yes, originally that was the plan, but I didn’t—it became something else entirely after I met you—”

“Save it, I don’t wanna hear it. Were you ever gonna tell me?”

“Of course! But I couldn’t do it during the show! There were cameras everywhere, and we had mics on us—”

“What about the plane, then? Couldn’t you have come clean then?”

Regulus opens his mouth before he closes it back again, no sound escaping it. He doesn’t have an excuse, not really. He hadn’t expected to fall for James, and least of all that James would reciprocate his feelings, so he had never made any plans about a future including the other man. He hadn’t even been thinking about Dorcas and their little scheme when they had been on their way back to London, still reeling over the fact that James was sitting beside him, hands interlaced while they talked about being together, properly together.

It was never about wanting to lie to James, or keep it a secret. Regulus simply hadn’t been prepared for this development.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” James huffs out with a disappointed shake of his head. His expression is distant, bordering on cruel, but Regulus knows him well, and he can see the hurt flashing in his eyes. “Get away from the door, Regulus.”

“No,” he refuses, stubborn and distressed. “Not until you let me explain.”

“What would be the point? It doesn’t change that you spent months lying to me—”

“Not willingly! Yes, me and Dorcas joined Temptation Island pretending to be a couple because of the money and because we were fans of the show, but what we had there, what we still have, that’s always been real—”

“Well, now I can’t be sure of that, can I?” James snaps, uncaring of the way it makes Regulus flinch. “I don’t know if I should trust you.”

“James, come on, you know me. That’s not the kind of person I—”

“Except I don’t, not really. All this time I thought we were taking a risk together, when in truth, this didn’t make much of a difference for you.”

“It made all of the difference,” Regulus insists, seconds away from just dropping to his knees and begging James to hear him out. He doesn’t think it’d do much, because there’s no getting through to James when he gets like this, but he’s tempted to try regardless. He can’t lose him again, not when he had finally, truly got him. “You’re so important to me, James, and I never—I couldn’t have predicted that this would happen—”

“You could’ve stopped it,” James hisses, narrowing his eyes, and something inside Regulus breaks.

“Is what you would’ve wanted?” he wonders, tiny and fragile. “For me to stop it? For us to never happen?”

James’ facade falters briefly, his indifferent mask falling and being replaced by heartbreak before it returns, firmer this time, all the light leaving his hazel eyes.

“I don’t know,” the other man says, shrugging lazily. “It definitely would’ve made things easier.”

“You don’t mean that,” Regulus states. It nearly sounds like a plea.

“You ruined my life,” James mutters, hands clenching. “My relationship, my closest friendship, the trust my parents had in me. And for what?”

“It wasn’t on purpose. And I did try to push you away, because I didn’t want you to end up regretting it—regretting me—”

James runs a hand through his hair, a disbelieving laugh making it past his lips. “I would have never if it weren’t for this, Reg. But the stakes were always really fucking high for me, and all this time, I thought yours were too. It made it so much easier, to know I wasn’t alone in this.”

“And you weren’t! You still aren’t—”

“But I am, Reg! What I had with Lily was real. I loved her and I threw it away, despite the pain, despite the fear, because you were worth it.”

“‘Were’?” Regulus asks in a whisper, the corners of his eyes stinging uncomfortably.

“Yes, Regulus, were,” James retorts, jaw clenched. “I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

“James, please—”

“Get away from the fucking door, Regulus. I won’t ask again.”

“But—”

“Enough! I can’t deal with this shit right now. Let me go.”

“Please, don’t do this, we can still fix it, we can—”

James interrupts him with a long-suffering sigh, and then he’s grabbing him by the hips and forcefully dragging him away from the door. The hold is harsh, lacking the gentleness that usually characterises James when he touches Regulus, but he’s still careful enough to not hurt him.

He thinks it’s this realisation that makes him start crying. Or maybe it’s the fact that James is about to leave, and Regulus is helpless to stop him.

Regulus crumbles to the floor as soon as the other man pulls away, hiding his face in his knees as his cries turn into sobs. He’s unable to watch James walk through that door, but he still hears the way he slams it on his way out, his whole body shrinking in on itself at the loud noise.

He has no idea of how long he stays there, curled up in the hall and bawling his eyes out. But by the time he manages to get up and drag himself to his bedroom, it’s already morning, and the inside of his mouth tastes like blood.

***

Regulus calls James time after time, and he sends him message after message, but the other man never replies. He doesn’t even open their chat, really. Not like Regulus can blame him, but it’s not enough to deter him.

Or, at least, it isn’t during the first couple of weeks.

The fact that James hasn’t blocked his number despite everything is enough to keep him going. To push him to not stop trying.

He might still lose James in the end, but Regulus has no intentions of going down without a fight.

***

“I could find out where he lives,” Marlene comments, chin resting on her interlaced hands. She’s watching Regulus from under her lashes, her beer still untouched at her side, and he rolls his eyes at her before his attention returns to the cocktail he’s making.

Regulus doesn’t usually get shifts on the bar, but they’ve been a little understaffed lately, and he’s been there long enough to know how everything works. He’s already had to deal with a few drunk men and it’s barely the afternoon, so suffice to say, he isn’t having a great day.

Marlene’s visit should’ve helped to cheer him up a little, but Regulus forgot how good she is at getting on his nerves, and he really isn’t in the mood today. He hasn’t been since James left his flat weeks ago, really.

“I doubt he’ll trust you with that information,” Regulus grumbles, finishing the daiquiri and offering it to the customer who has been patiently waiting at Marlene’s side. Regulus had worried about the man complaining about him being distracted or chatting with a friend in the middle of work, but he seems happy enough to get his cocktail, paying with a smile before he leaves with his drink. “He already knows you and Dorcas are dating.”

Marlene groans softly, tilting her head back in the process before she finally reaches for her beer.

“Honestly, Reg, you and your big mouth,” she complains after she takes a swig of her pint.

“It was an accident, we’ve been through this,” Regulus huffs, washing his hands with a frown.

“I know, I know, you weren’t thinking, blah blah blah.” Marlene huffs, ignoring the glare Regulus sends her way. “I’m trying to come up with a solution here, but you don’t like any of my ideas.”

“Because your ideas are shit.”

“I resent that. I could totally manipulate Potter into doxxing himself. He loves me—”

“Not as much as he hates me right now.”

“Oh, c’mon, James doesn’t hate you. I don’t think he’s capable of it.”

Regulus snorts, but the noise lacks any amusement. “Believe me, he’s more than capable. I’ve fucked up big time.”

“Yeah, but it’s not unfixable,” Marlene tells him, taking another big gulp of beer. “And besides, he fucked up first.”

“Sure, but he had a good reason for it—” Regulus reminds her with a pointed look.

“That’s debatable,” she mutters. “You were just waiting for an excuse to forgive. You’re so cockdrunk it’s actually pathetic—”

“Piss off, that’s not even an actual word.”

“It so is. And you’re its embodiment.”

“Did you actually come here to be helpful or be a pain in my ass?” Regulus wonders aloud, shifting slightly to let one of his coworkers, Neil, walk behind him. He waves amiably at Marlene, because she’s come in before, hand in hand with Dorcas, and Marlene returns the gesture with a big grin.

“Both,” Marlene replies, shrugging lazily. “I can multitask.”

“Really? Because, so far, you’ve only managed the latter—”

“Well, yeah, you keep shutting every single one of my plans out—”

“They’re awful plans! None of them will work!” Regulus explodes, raising his voice high enough that it earns him the looks of a handful of his coworkers and even a couple of customers.

His cheeks colour a bright red, and he squints his eyes at Marlene when the blonde snickers into her palm, attempting to be subtle about it and failing miserably.

“Black, keep it down!” one of his managers exclaims at him suddenly, his head peeking out from outside his little office. It hasn’t been that busy of a morning, so Rob has been doing admin for the past three hours. “Or go outside for a smoke if you need a moment, but don’t scare any guests away!”

He goes back inside the office before Regulus has a chance to respond, but it doesn’t stop Regulus from nodding firmly, before leaning over the counter and swatting Marlene on the back of her head. She grunts, and then tries to retaliate, but Regulus only has to take a couple of steps back to stay out of her reach. Only advantage of being behind the bar.

“You’re a wanker,” Marlene hisses, and Regulus only smirks at her in response. “I decide to be nice and come here, try to help your sorry ass—”

“Come off it, you’re only here for the free beer,” Regulus huffs, raising an eyebrow.

“That, too,” she concedes with a tilt of her head. “But I genuinely want you to be happy, you know? Man, I miss the days when you were getting laid on the regular. You were delightful. I never got to thank James for that.” She pauses, tapping her chin as if in deep thought. “Maybe that could be a good starter for a conversation. I send him a fruit basket with a little thank you note, and then—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Regulus grumbles, pointing a threatening finger at her. Marlene lifts both hands in mock surrender. “I’m telling you, James won’t answer anything that comes from you—”

“That’s not true! We’re mutuals on Instagram!”

“It’s different. He probably follows everyone from the show.”

“Well, yeah,” Marlene admits, pouting for a second before she gets a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Not you, though.”

Regulus stares at her with the most deadpan expression he can muster. “Low blow, McKinnon. Real fucking low.”

“Sorry,” she singsongs, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “You just make it so easy to be a bitch.”

“You’re the one who’s doing her best to annoy the fuck out of me while I’m at work—”

“I’m keeping you company! And making sure you’re not on the verge of throwing yourself out of a window again.”

Regulus’ eyes roll to the back of his head. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You spent a month being fucking miserable, Reg. There were weeks Dorcas didn’t even know if you were alive,” Marlene says with a sigh, making Regulus squirm in place. He’s still feeling guilty about that. “At least this time you’re not losing your marbles. Not too much, at least.”

“Because this time I feel like not everything’s lost,” Regulus retorts, albeit a little hesitantly. “Although, it might just be wishful thinking on my part.”

“Nah, I’d tell you if you were being delusional.” Marlene makes a waving motion with her hand, nearly knocking her pint over. Regulus is too done to even bother to glare at her. “You said it yourself, right? He hasn’t blocked you just yet.”

“True,” Regulus hums, tilting his head slightly. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“Please, you call him at least three times a day, and you send him texts nonstop. That’s gotta be annoying as fuck.”

“Fuck off.”

“He might be upset and angry at you right now, but he’s still very much obsessed.”

“If you say so.”

“C’mon, be more confident! That man was straight two months ago—”

“Technically, he was never straight—”

“You and your pretty face made him switch sides,” Marlene goes on, as if she hasn’t heard him. “Believe in yourself a little more, mate!”

“Not your mate,” Regulus huffs out, but he stands straighter at Marlene’s words. He wouldn’t admit it, not even under torture, but perhaps she has a bit of a point. If he wants to pull it off, he needs to start acting like he actually has a chance.

Marlene gasps in an exaggerated fashion, clutching at her chest as if she’s been hit. Regulus is already shaking his head before she even opens her mouth.

“What do you mean? You’re my best mate!” she whines, hitting the counter like a kid throwing a tantrum.

Regulus wrinkles his nose. “Since fucking when?”

“Since I was the only person you tolerated on that show. And before you say anything, James doesn’t count. He was literally fucking you.”

“I also fucked him,” Regulus retorts a bit petulantly.

“Of course you did,” Marlene murmurs, before feigning a gag. “Okay, I’m gonna need another beer if I’m gonna have to deal with this.” She makes a wide gesture, addressing Regulus in his entirety.

“You haven’t even finished your current one,” Regulus complains.

Marlene arches an eyebrow at him, before her hand shoots out and curls around the glass, pressing it against her mouth and gulping down all the beer left inside it. After she’s done, she puts the empty glass back on the counter with a loud clack, and then she burps, making Regulus click his tongue as he scrunches his nose.

“Another beer!” Marlene yells, beaming proudly at Regulus.

Before he even has the chance to curse her out, Neil is leaning over Regulus from behind him, giving Marlene another pint filled to the brim with a cheeky smile and a wink. She cheers loudly, and rushes to take a hold of the glass, sipping it eagerly.

Regulus points an accusatory finger at his coworker, who scurries away with a chuckle.

“Don’t encourage her,” he warns him.

“Perhaps Neil should be my best mate,” Marlene says, considering.

“I’d be honoured!” Neil screams back from the other side of the bar.

“See?” Marlene scoffs, staring straight at Regulus. “At least someone appreciates me around here.”

Regulus scowls, before pushing the pint glass closer to Marlene. “Shut up and drink your fucking beer.”

***

By the third week, Regulus does his best to up his game. He still doesn’t trust Marlene’s judgement very much, or Dorcas, for that matter, because she can be as much of a mess in relationships as he himself is, even if in a different way. She’s the one who currently has a girlfriend, though, so maybe Regulus could listen to her more often.

Apart from heartfelt apologies and messages asking to meet up, Regulus begins to send James pictures of things that remind him of him. The other man has always been the more romantic one between the two of them, and always made more of an effort to make Regulus feel special, so Marlene suggests that he try to sweep James off his feet for a change.

She claims that James is already head over heels, but he needs a reminder to let go of his anger. Regulus thinks it’s a load of bullshit, but he’s getting desperate, so he’s willing to try anything at this point.

It feels weird, mostly because he never gets a response, but also because Regulus isn’t used to acting cheesy like this. Sure, he’s a bit of a romantic at heart, but it isn’t something that he tends to exteriorise. It feels too vulnerable. People can take advantage of that side of him too easily for his tastes.

But, well, James has already hurt him more than Regulus could’ve anticipated. And nothing could be worse than losing the other man, so he’s ready to put up with anything James might send his way. Even if it’s resentment. Even if it’s pure, unadulterated hatred.

Even if it’s only silence.

And so, Regulus sends him pictures of the sky when it looks especially pretty, of the sunset when he’s on the bus going home from work, and of cute dogs he encounters on the street. He even tells him about the few times people recognise him and come up to him to ask about James, or to let him know they’re rooting for them both.

Regulus is still uncertain how he feels about being treated as some sort of microcelebrity, and he can’t help but be impossibly awkward whenever a stranger that knows him from the show approaches him. But when the interactions go well, despite the initial discomfort, he always gets the urge to share the experience with James. Somehow, he thinks it’s the kind of thing James would appreciate.

He has no idea if this is working or just making things worse, until, all of a sudden, and after a few days of Regulus feeling like an absolute fool, he realises that James has finally opened their chat.

These past weeks, James hadn’t even bothered to actually read Regulus’ messages—not like he could fault him for that, Regulus also wouldn’t want anything to do with him. But one morning, after he’s taken a picture of a really nice graffiti and goes to send it to James, he’s met with the confirmation that the other man has, at least, entered the chat.

He blinks, and suppresses the urge to rub at his eyes, unsure if he’s imagining it. He immediately assumes that it must’ve been an accident, heart beating frantically in his chest, and proceeds to send the picture he just took. Just in case, he stays inside the chat, standing in the middle of the street, staring at his screen with anxiety pooling in his gut.

It takes exactly twenty-two seconds.

Regulus blinks once, twice, and then there it is, that little confirmation once again. James has read his text. He’s opened their chat, and has seen the picture Regulus just shared with him. He hasn’t replied at all, and Regulus doesn’t think he’s going to, not any time soon, at least, but this is still progress, right?

Right?

Regulus covers his mouth with one hand to try and muffle the giggle that escapes him, but he’s unsuccessful. Under any other circumstance, Regulus would be extremely embarrassed about acting so giddy in the middle of the street, especially considering all the glances people are giving him as they walk past. But he can’t bring himself to care right now.

He’s going to take this as a personal win. It’s not like Regulus had any intentions to give up, but after this? Oh, he’s going to be making even more of an effort.

James won’t know what hit him.

***

“You wanna do this or not?” Dorcas asks for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes, sounding exasperated. Regulus is convinced that she’d already be yelling at him if it weren’t for how fragile he’s been lately.

He frowns a little, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing loudly. Dorcas’ expression doesn’t change in the slightest, however, and she continues to stare at him as she waits for his response.

“Yeah,” Regulus ends up mumbling, albeit reluctantly.

“Good,” Dorcas sighs, before extending her arm towards Regulus, palm looking up. “Hand it over, then.”

Regulus hesitates for a moment, but he relents, slipping his fingers inside the pocket of his sweatpants until they curl around his phone. Before he can regret it, he rushes to give it to Dorcas, who grabs it with a satisfied smile.

“If you want this to work, you need to open your Instagram account,” she tells him, as if she’s not been repeating it over and over since she and Marlene came over.

Speaking of, Regulus really hopes the blonde won’t end up burning down the kitchen. He was very against her cooking dinner for the three of them, but Dorcas distracted him before he could do more than complain about it.

It’s been suspiciously quiet for nearly half an hour, and Regulus doesn’t like that at all.

“This is so stupid,” Regulus whines, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. His foot keeps tapping restlessly against the floor.

“Well, we’re running out of ideas, so this is the best you’ve got,” Dorcas mutters, tapping the screen of Regulus’ phone with swift fingers.

“I’ve been doing just fine—”

“Reg, James opening your texts but not doing anything about it is not doing fine.”

“You were so happy for me when I first told you!”

“That was weeks ago. You haven’t made any progress since.”

“It takes time,” Regulus murmurs under his breath. “He just needs more time—”

“It’s been more than enough. At this point, he’s gonna end up moving on,” Dorcas says absentmindedly, like she isn’t talking about one of Regulus’ biggest fears right now.

He makes a choked off noise. “Don’t even suggest that.”

“Then shut up and let me do what I do best,” she snaps with a quick glare before her focus returns to the device in her hands.

Regulus scoffs, but he doesn’t add anything else, waiting patiently and keeping his gaze anywhere but on his friend. Staring at Dorcas without being able to see what exactly she is doing with his Instagram is making him nervous, so he makes a point of keeping his attention elsewhere.

It doesn’t work that well, but it’s better than nothing.

“You’ve got nothing to lose,” Dorcas comments after a couple of minutes, finally handing him his phone back before she slides closer to him. They’re both sitting on the floor for some reason. “If nothing happens, you can delete the story tomorrow night and make your account private once again. No damage done.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Regulus retorts half-heartedly, going straight to his profile to check what kind of picture Dorcas has posted.

It’s a flattering one, unsurprisingly, and he didn’t notice her taking it, otherwise he would have complained about it. It’s from a few nights ago, when he went out with her, Marlene, and some of his friends from work. They’re at the pub, so the lighting is low, but you can still make out everything in the picture without issue.

Regulus is at the centre of it, and despite not looking at the camera, most of his face is on display. He’s smirking at something that his coworker Gavin is saying, who’s not completely in the picture, just half his face and the arm he has resting on the back of Regulus’ seat.

He had been wearing a blue turtleneck and black jeans, and Dorcas had also done his make-up. Nothing too noticeable, because Regulus isn’t big on it in the first place, but enough to make his features pop out. One of his hands is wrapped around a glass of wine, and he had been captured mid-movement, getting ready to take a sip of his drink.

Regulus loathes to admit it, because it comes too close to agreeing with Dorcas, but he looks really good.

“It’s not.” Dorcas pushes him with her shoulder, but she barely uses any force.

“I doubt he stalks me, especially considering my account is private—”

“I’m convinced he does, at least occasionally. And even if he didn’t, it’s a good picture. Like I said, no harm done. If it works, then you have something else to lure him in, and if it doesn’t, well. We’ll think of something else.”

“Wouldn’t he get suspicious if he checks and suddenly my account is public?”

“Nah. He’d be curious, though. And probably quite happy.”

“I thought you were anti-James after the whole ghosting situation,” Regulus points out with an arched eyebrow.

“And I am,” Dorcas huffs out. “But you’re still my best friend. I’m gonna be there if you need me. Besides, he’d be mad to not take you back.”

“I did fuck up quite badly—”

“Don’t start. We’ve had this conversation before and I’m not in the mood for fighting. You already know my stance on the subject, and I think he’s being a big crybaby about it.”

“Lying is kinda very shitty, Cas—” Regulus sighs, even though it’s something he’s always been way too comfortable doing.

“Also, he fucked up first,” she reminds him sharply. “And refrain from trying to defend him, yeah? It’s getting old, and you won’t get me to agree, anyway.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, but doesn’t attempt to argue further. A moment later, he’s exiting the Instagram app and throwing his phone at the couch. He doesn’t have any intentions of keeping checking it nonstop, no matter that his brain is already urging him to grab him again.

“Whatever,” he says. “Wanna pick what we’re watching tonight?”

Dorcas grins widely at him. “Always.”

They don’t get very far, however, with Regulus just managing to turn his laptop on, when a loud thud coming from the kitchen makes them both freeze up, followed by a string of very colourful curses.

He and Dorcas exchange a look and then they’re on their feet, nearly tripping on their haste to get to Marlene. Regulus truly hopes she hasn’t destroyed his kitchen.

That night, his muscles still sore after all the cleaning the three of them had to do because of Marlene and the pan she’d nearly made explode, Regulus takes his phone from where it’s charging on his nightstand. He’s been trying to sleep for hours now, and he’s about ready to give up and spend whatever time he has left until his alarm goes off scrolling mindlessly.

He’s probably gonna need a few coffees to get through tomorrow’s—today’s, he supposes—shift.

Regulus goes into Instagram and remembers the stupid picture, so blinking blearily, he decides to check his story, ignoring the ridiculous amount of people that have decided to follow him. He’ll force Dorcas to deal with that tomorrow. Or maybe Jen, if they’re on the same shift.

He scrolls down the list of usernames, yawning a couple of times in the process, and not even recognising half of these people. Regulus is starting to feel his anxiety rise, when a name catches his attention.

Maybe it’s because it’s nearly 4AM, but it takes him a moment to realise it’s James’ account.

James has seen his picture. He’s gone into Regulus’ account, and opened his story, even though he probably knows that Regulus was going to find out at some point.

What the fuck. What the fuck.

Regulus throws an arm over his eyes, shaking his head a little incredulously, and smiles until his jaw aches.

***

Four days after the picture incident, there’s a knock on his door.

Regulus jumps slightly, a frown twisting his features as he lifts his gaze from the book open on his thighs to glance at the door.

He’s sure Dorcas didn’t mention anything about coming over today. She does show up unannounced on occasion, but it’s only when it’s some sort of emergency, and she doesn’t make a habit of it, aware that Regulus isn’t fond of surprises. Especially when it comes to people invading his space when he doesn’t have any plans to interact with others. Even though Dorcas tends to be his exception, Regulus still isn’t thrilled about an impromptu visit.

There are three more knocks, a little more aggressive this time, and Regulus groans, leaving his novel open and upside down on the coffee table, to make sure he won’t lose the page he’s on.

As he gets up, Regulus checks his phone briefly in case he’s missed any texts from Dorcas letting him know she was on her way to his flat. But there’s nothing new in their chat, and not a single missed call. His frown deepens as he makes his way to the door.

He doesn’t even bother to check who it is before he’s wrenching the door open, a cutting remark on the tip of his tongue. The words die before Regulus can even think of uttering them once his eyes fall on the person standing on his doorway.

Regulus opens his mouth, expecting to let out a scream, but his vocal cords refuse to cooperate, so he’s left to gape helplessly, fingers twitching at his sides and heart beating furiously against his ribs, threatening to burst out of his chest.

The person in front of him shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and despite how careful he is about keeping his expression neutral, bordering on indifferent, Regulus can tell he’s uncomfortable.

“Can I come in?” Sirius asks, voice deep and smooth and unlike Regulus remembers it.

The man in front of him is nothing short of a stranger, the ghost of a past he’s been working hard to forget. And yet, Regulus would recognise him in the middle of a crowd, no matter how long it’s been, no matter how much they’ve both changed. Their souls recognise each other, even against their will.

His first instinct is to slam the door in his brother’s face, tell him to get the fuck out of his building and threaten to call the police if he decides to be difficult—and it’s Sirius, so Regulus doesn’t doubt that he would. But his body must have a personal vendetta against him, because what he ends up doing instead is moving to the side, giving Sirius a vague tilt of his head to invite him inside.

His brother blinks owlishly at him, almost like he’s as shocked by Regulus’ behaviour as he himself is, but he steps into the flat a moment later. Despite the certain awkwardness in the air, there’s no hesitance in his steps, and Regulus can’t help but glare at his back after he closes the door and follows him to the living room.

Sirius has always had a confidence that Regulus could never replicate, not even now, after years of being away from his family. His brother goes about life like he’s untouchable, like the world owes him something. Regulus has always envied that about him, because being a human being feels like a bit of a chore to him. He struggles with even the easiest of tasks, his brain never failing to put up a fight.

It’s one of the main reasons why he used to admire Sirius, to want to be like him. He had assumed that he had grown out of it, but watching the back of his brother’s head, Regulus realises that it never left. It stayed with him, turning uglier and hungrier, until all the regard he’d held for Sirius shifted into jealousy and resentment. Back then, he would’ve given anything for his brother to give him even half a second of attention, always filled with pride when anyone referred to Regulus as Sirius’ brother.

Right now, though? Regulus can barely take a proper breath without feeling like he’s choking, love and hatred blurring his vision until he fears he might start crying at any moment.

Regulus despises Sirius so much he wants to strangle him to death, but at the same time, his arms are aching with the need to envelop him in a hug.

His brother heads straight to the couch, eyes analysing every corner of the room and making Regulus’ skin itch. Sirius doesn’t stop looking around, not even when he sits down on the sofa, right on the spot where Regulus had been reading less than five minutes ago.

Regulus’ right eye twitches, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from commenting on it. This conversation is bound to end in disaster, regardless of the reason for Sirius’ visit, but that doesn’t mean Regulus is going to be the one to trigger the inevitable fight.

That has always been more Sirius’ style, anyway.

“Nice place,” his brother says noncommittally, finally focusing on Regulus, who’s standing a little stiffly in front of the coffee table.

Regulus hums. “You don’t have to lie. I know it’s a bit of a shithole, but I can’t afford anything better.”

“I’m not lying. We might’ve not seen each other in years, but I’m always more than happy to tell you if your choices suck,” Sirius retorts, arching an eyebrow. He glances around the room once more. “It’s very cozy. I like it.”

“Thank you,” Regulus murmurs, voice tight.

“Not gonna sit down?”

Regulus crosses his arms over his chest. “I’d assumed this wasn’t gonna take too long. I’m sure neither of us are keen on spending more time than necessary in each other’s presence.”

Sirius’ expression remains irritatingly bored, and Regulus grits his teeth when the only thing his brother does in response is pat the spot next to him.

Regulus takes a few seconds to obey, just to be a bitch, but ends up listening to Sirius regardless. It’s not like he’s gonna gain anything from being purposefully difficult. He was the one who let his brother inside, after all, which means Regulus won’t be getting rid of him until he’s said whatever it is that he came here to say.

He feels like he should be more confused about Sirius’ sudden appearance, but he had stopped trying to make sense of his brother a while ago. There’s no point in getting frustrated about it now, after so long of being out of each other’s lives, when past Regulus had made his peace with it.

Once he settles beside Sirius—making a point of leaving as much space as possible between their bodies—Regulus takes a moment to actually look at him.

He doesn’t think his brother has changed very much, even though he looks nothing like the last time Regulus saw him. His hair is long now, falling in waves that reach his shoulders, strands the same shade of black as Regulus’ curls. There’s silver hanging from his ears, and a little ring on his nose, and it wouldn’t surprise him, if it turned out that Sirius has even more piercings than the ones Regulus can see at a first glance. He has the beginning of a beard on his chin and cheeks, but unlike the messy stubble James had been wearing weeks ago, Sirius’ is actually well-groomed, as if he’s actively growing it out.

Regulus hates to admit that it suits him. But then again, there’s nothing Sirius Black can’t pull off if he puts his mind to it.

He’s wearing a leather jacket on top of a shirt with the logo of a band Regulus doesn’t recognise, ripped jeans, and combat boots. Even though he’s covered nearly from head to toe, Regulus catches sight of tattoos peeking from the collar of his shirt, the ink curling around Sirius’ neck and from the sleeves of his jacket. There’s also symbols adorning his fingers, but Regulus doesn’t allow himself to linger, nervous about his brother noticing and making fun of him for staring so shamelessly.

“How did you find me?” Regulus inquires, a little unnerved with the silence.

“Went through James’ messages,” his brother answers with a lazy shrug, and Regulus isn’t fast enough to repress his scoff.

“Of course,” he mutters, shaking his head. “What an amazing friend you are.”

Sirius shrugs again. It’s so upsetting, the fact that he can act so unfazed about this situation, like being around Regulus doesn’t make that much of a difference to him, when Regulus feels like he’s about to crawl out of his own damn skin.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he says, scratching at his beard. The gesture makes Regulus notice the chipped black nail polish Sirius is wearing, and he wrinkles his nose. “And besides, I’m doing this for his sake.”

“Oh?” Regulus murmurs, raising both eyebrows as he leans more comfortably against the back of the sofa. “Here to tell me to back off?”

“The opposite, actually. I need you to fix your shit.”

Regulus does a double take, convinced that he must be hearing wrong. “What?”

Sirius shifts in his seat, twisting his body until he’s facing Regulus properly, meeting his gaze head on. There’s something grave in his silver eyes, and for a moment, it reminds Regulus so much of his mother he nearly whimpers.

“I’m not sure of what happened between you and James when he came over a while ago, but I know you fucked up,” Sirius mutters, making Regulus’ hands clench where they’re resting on his lap. “I’m asking you to make it right and get back together with him.”

“We were never together in the first place,” Regulus protests a little petulantly, still trying to wrap his head around every word that’s coming out of his brother’s mouth.

Sirius snorts, an odd mix of annoyance and amusement dancing in his gaze. “Please. You’re both so smitten it’s actually pathetic.”

“Piss off, you don’t know shit about me and James—”

“Actually, I know quite a lot, just like the rest of England. And believe me, I’m not very happy about it.”

Regulus lets out a choked off noise, lowering his head when he feels his cheeks starting to heat up. It’s so stupid, to get so embarrassed about this at his age, just because of his brother, as if they’re still teenagers trying to poke fun at each other’s crushes.

Not like they’ve ever done that, mind you. By the time Regulus had turned thirteen, and had begun to feel attraction—or more like repress it—Sirius was already shutting him out as much as possible, especially when it came to his personal life. Regulus is convinced he only got to meet one of Sirius’ friends from back then, and it had been an accident. He can’t even remember a name.

“No one forced you to watch,” Regulus grumbles, pressing his lips into a thin line to stop himself from pouting.

“I was supporting my best friend—” Sirius huffs out.

“And it’s none of your business anyway—”

“Everything that has to do with James is my business.”

“That is wrong in so many levels I don’t even know where to start—”

“Shut up, you’re just jealous.”

“Why would I be? I’m the one James is fucking,” Regulus sniffles, raising his chin a little.

“Were,” Sirius corrects a bit too smugly. “Because he isn’t fucking you anymore, right, Reggie?”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Regulus snarls, narrowing his eyes at the half smirk his brother sends his way. “You’ve got no right to—”

“Calm down, mate, I didn’t come here to fight you—” Sirius huffs out, rolling his eyes, still so good at making Regulus feel like an idiot.

“Not your fucking mate either,” Regulus hisses, and Sirius groans loudly, tilting his head back to the point it rests on the back of the couch.

“No, you’re a pain in the ass, that’s what you bloody are.”

“Look who’s talking—”

“Can you not antagonise me for, like, five minutes? I’d be out of your sight already if you weren’t so set on being impossible—”

“You shouldn’t have come here in the first place!”

“You think I wanted to?” Sirius stares at him incredulously, a derisive chuckle slipping past his lips. “Be fucking for real. I’m just doing you a fucking favour—”

“Well, I didn’t ask you to,” Regulus snarls, baring his teeth.

“No, because you’re an entitled little brat—”

“Don’t speak like you know me.”

“Believe me, Regulus, I wish I didn’t—”

“You don’t,” he presses, enunciating every word very carefully. “You think you do, but you don’t. You’ve been gone for years, you have no idea of what my life looks like, and you can’t just waltz in after so long because it suits you—”

“That’s not what’s going on here, Regulus,” Sirius cuts him off, his tone going a little stern. “And you’d realise that if you’d let me speak.”

“I don’t care about what you have to say—”

“Well, I don’t care about what you have to say either, bitch, and I’m still here listening to all the bullshit that’s coming out of your mouth.”

Regulus clenches his jaw, and the image of punching his brother on the nose flashes through his mind, tempting him. He’d definitely lose if he got into an actual physical fight with his brother, Regulus is aware, but it might still be worth it if it means getting in a hit or two.

“Again, no one’s forcing you to—” Regulus grits out, at the edge of losing the little patience he has left.

“Five minutes, Regulus,” Sirius asks, and it’s not even close to begging, because Sirius doesn’t beg, but with how exhausted he sounds, it might be the same thing. “That’s all I need. You can kick me out afterward, and I’ll go without protest. I swear.”

“Your word doesn’t mean anything to me,” he retorts.

“Fair. But I’m pretty sure neither of us want to prolong this little reunion more than necessary, so, for once in your life, try to be smart about this, yeah?”

“Fuck off.” Regulus kicks him in the shin as a reflex, but he’s still a little startled when Sirius reciprocates without missing a beat. In fact, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear there’s the beginning of a smile tugging at his brother’s lip. “Fine. Speak.”

“Thank you,” Sirius breathes out, rolling his eyes a bit too dramatically.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His brother changes position, spreading his legs wider and resting his elbows on his thighs, leaning a little forward as his expression becomes determined. “I’m gonna be honest with you—”

“That’d be a first,” Regulus scoffs.

“—I fucking hate the idea of you and James being together,” Sirius continues, undeterred, not even blinking at Regulus’ comment.

“Shocker.”

“But I hate seeing James miserable even more.”

Regulus furrows his brow at that. “What do you mean miserable? He’s the one who’s been ignoring me—”

“And I’m sure it’s justified,” Sirius says drily. “But believe me when I tell you he’s just playing hard to get. I can tell he’s been thinking about contacting you again, especially this past week, but if we wait for him to decide, nothing’s ever gonna change. James can be surprisingly good at ignoring his problems.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Regulus murmurs, and although the corners of his mouth turn upwards, the motion is filled with pain. “What do you suggest I do, then?”

“It’s up to you, but it’s gotta be some kind of grand gesture. You gotta be bold, Reggie—”

“Stop it with the nickname already—”

“James is a romantic, and sure, all those pics of dogs and the sky you keep spamming him with are cute and all—”

“Those were private!” Regulus whines, flushing pink.

“But you’re gonna need more than that if you want him to take you back,” Sirius states, his eyebrows raised as he stares at Regulus expectantly.

“Didn’t know you were such an expert,” Regulus mutters with what’s supposed to be a scowl that’s closer to a pout.

“I mean, I’ve been in a relationship for nearly six years now, so I definitely know what I’m talking about.”

Regulus cocks his head to the right. “Ah, yes. Remus, right?”

“Yeah,” Sirius replies, his eyes widening minutely. “James told you?”

He nods. “I didn’t know it was you back then, but the first thing he mentioned about his best friends was how disgustingly in love they are.”

The smile that takes over Sirius’ face is one that Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever witnessed on his brother. It’s soft, filled with tenderness, and it could put the goddamn sun to shame. It forces him to avert his gaze, his stomach churning.

“He’s such a sap,” Sirius sighs, shaking his head, his voice covered in fondness.

“Never expected you to end up in a committed relationship before you hit your thirties.” Regulus means it as a dig, but it comes out a little too genuine, the curiosity palpable in his words.

“What can I say, I contain multitudes,” Sirius says with a wry smile, and it’s a bit of a battle for Regulus, stopping his face from reciprocating the gesture. “I’m more surprised about both of us being gay, though. I think mother would have a stroke if she ever found out. Man, I’d pay to see that.”

That startles a laugh out of Regulus, who closes his mouth immediately after, feeling quite betrayed. It’s too late, however, because Sirius seems delighted by Regulus’ reaction, his grin spreading wider.

“I don’t know if she’d care, at this point,” Regulus sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, she would. She’d take it personally, even.”

“It’d only matter to her because she wanted us to continue our bloodline. She was actually kinda supportive when she found out about me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. For about five seconds. Until I told her I had no intentions of marrying a woman and producing a child.”

Sirius snorts, and Regulus hides his smile behind his hand.

“Apparently I was only allowed to be gay after fulfilling my duties,” he goes on flatly, watching Sirius’ eyes shine with mirth. In moments like this, Regulus doesn’t understand how he could ever see their mother in him.

“Sounds about right.” Sirius shakes his head softly, before stretching his back, groaning when there’s a satisfying pop. After that, he stands up, slipping a hand into the inside of his jacket and searching in what Regulus figures it’s a pocket. He struggles for a handful of seconds, before he makes an excited sound and takes his hand out, a wrinkled piece of paper resting on his palm.

He offers it to Regulus, who leans back instinctively and eyes it warily.

“What’s that?” Regulus questions, squinting.

“The address to my flat.”

Regulus forgets how to breathe for a moment.

“Why?” he asks, hating how small he sounds.

Sirius shrugs. “I told you, it’s all because of James.”

“Still. You live there.”

“So?”

“Sirius, don’t play daft. It doesn’t suit you.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Reggie?” Sirius scratches aggressively at his beard, a pinch appearing between his eyebrows. “No, I don’t like giving up this information to you of all people, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I? For some insane reason, you make my best mate really fucking happy.”

“Not anymore,” Regulus murmurs, swallowing thickly before glancing fleetingly at the paper still in Sirius’ hand.

“But you could again, if you pulled your head out of your ass,” Sirius points out. After that, he seems to get tired of waiting for Regulus to accept his little gift, and with a long-suffering sigh, he takes a step forward, reaching out to grab Regulus’ wrist. Regulus is too stunned to resist, and a moment later, his brother is forcing his hand open and placing the piece of paper in the centre of it. “There you go. Use it and go serenade James, or throw it away, I don’t give a fuck. Don’t say I didn’t try, though.”

With that, he turns around and begins to make his way out of the living room, his shoulders sagging and his pace unhurried. Regulus really can’t comprehend how his brother has been able to act so casual about this whole thing. How he can come into Regulus’ flat like it’s nothing, talk to him, and then leave as if the world hasn’t been completely pulled out of its axis.

It hurts him as much as it relieves him.

“I don’t get it,” Regulus says softly, gaze jumping from his brother’s elegant handwriting and his brother’s retreating figure. “I don’t get you.”

Sirius pauses, throwing Regulus a look over his shoulder as he’s about to exit the room. “There’s nothing to get, Reggie. I’m looking out for a friend. I’m definitely not doing this for you.”

“I know,” Regulus mumbles with a frown.

“I didn’t miss you,” Sirius insists, and he isn’t sure of which one of them he’s trying to convince.

“I know,” he repeats, a bit more firmly.

I didn’t miss you either, is what Regulus wants to add, throw Sirius’ own words back in his face, show him that he doesn’t care. However, the sentence gets stuck at the back of his throat, and despite his best effort, Regulus is unable to force it out.

Sirius stares at him in silence for a moment or two, a storm brewing behind his eyes, before he clicks his tongue and turns his head away.

This time, there’s a certain tension around his shoulders when he resumes his walking, though, and it calms something in Regulus.

“Don’t break my mate’s heart again!” Sirius exclaims once he’s already out of Regulus’ sight. “Or next time I won’t be as nice!”

“Stay out of my fucking business!” he yells back, but there’s no actual heat in his voice, and Regulus swears he catches a bark of laughter before it’s drowned out by the door of his flat being slammed closed.

Out of spite, Regulus wants to get up and throw the stupid piece of paper into the bin, pretend that his brother wasn’t here in the first place, and go on with his life. But, well, James is more important than any petty grudges he holds against Sirius. Or, at least, that’s what he’s trying to tell himself.

He has no idea of how long he stays there, sitting on his sofa, back too straight to feel comfortable, and fingers curled around a wrinkled piece of paper, but by the time Regulus makes his decision, it’s already beginning to turn dark outside.

His hand clenches into a fist, crushing the paper without mercy. Regulus stares at his fist, his knuckles concerningly white, and he gives one determined nod.

He’s going to get James back.

Chapter Text

James has been living in some sort of limbo between anger and sadness for the past few weeks, and it’s been driving him more than a little insane.

He isn’t a big fan of either of those emotions, mostly because he’s never been good at handling them, but he’s growing so used to both of them that they’re starting to feel like an inherent part of himself. James forgets sometimes—what it felt like to be something other than furious or upset, and it scares him more than he’s willing to admit.

It’s not like he hasn’t been brokenhearted before. Contrary to popular belief, James isn’t someone who falls in love easily. Sure, he’s had his fair share of crushes, but it’s usually nothing serious enough to affect him if it ends up going wrong. But when he genuinely likes someone, he goes all out, always unable to do things halfway. Not everyone is very fond of how James loves, and it’s led to people breaking things off when James had least expected it, smashing his heart in a hundred little pieces and stepping all over the shards afterwards.

And yet, James can’t remember a time it hurt like this.

He misses Regulus like a ghost limb, as if someone had taken a part of his soul by force, leaving him bleeding and trying to nurse a wound that will never be able to heal completely. It never stays closed long enough to scar, ripping open occasionally and making a mess of him, covering James in blood and a numbing pain.

And he’s aware that it’d be as easy as picking up whenever Regulus calls, replying to his dozens of daily texts, or even swinging by his flat, because James made sure to memorise the address the first time the other man shared his location with him. But every time the thought crosses his mind, anger rears its ugly head and nips the idea at the bud, refusing to let it take root. Utterly uncaring of James’ heart pleas. Reminding him of all the lies and all the pain until he can’t find a single reason why it’d be a good idea to go back to Regulus.

James is aware that it’d soothe the ache immediately, but he can’t say for sure that it’d be good for him in the long term. He thinks that he could be able to trust Regulus again, eventually, after they’ve had some time to heal, but he’s fucking terrified. James doesn’t think he’d recover from a betrayal like this again, and what happened with Lily had already been bad enough.

It’s been a little odd, because that specific break-up hasn’t necessarily felt like one, and James is unsure if he should be happy or sad about that. The pain is still there, of course, and after his fight with Regulus, James had been itching with the urge to call Lily, rant a little and ask for her advice, because Lily had never steered him wrong during their relationship.

But then he had remembered he couldn’t, because they aren’t friends anymore, and she definitely hates his guts.

This notion had served to cement the fact that it had been a while since James had stopped loving Lily in the way he should have, and somehow, realising that has been one of the hardest parts of the past couple of months.

Sure, he also misses the time they had been in love, when their relationship was at its best and he had been convinced that she was the one. But deep down, and with his heart calling out to someone else now, what James truly craves from her is friendship. Her presence in his life. The comfort only she could bring him.

He’s aware of how selfish that is, but James doesn’t care much about that these days. He doesn’t have the strength.

“Jay, darling,” his father says, forcibly pulling him out of his daze. James blinks a few times, looking around and remembering they’re at one of his mother’s favourite restaurants in town, having lunch since James has an extra free hour before he has to return to work. He forces himself to focus on the man sitting in front of him, who’s watching him with a worried furrow in his brow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he rushes to respond, cringing at how shaky his voice comes out. He clears his throat and forces a grin, before reaching out to the beer in front of him and taking a long sip. “Yeah, ‘course.”

His father stares at him in silence for a few seconds, his frown worsening briefly before he sighs deeply, his shoulders sagging. Fleamont Potter has always looked younger than he is, despite the bushy beard and all the wrinkles around his eyes, because he’s such a lively man, so full of energy. He tends to joke about being a child in his soul, which never fails to make his wife, Euphemia, roll her eyes affectionately and make some snarky remark about how he definitely behaves like one.

But these days there’s a certain exhaustion that lingers around him. James doesn’t think he’s even looked at his dad and been hit with how old he actually is. How tired and spent his body can be.

It’s been nothing short of devastating. Mostly, because James is aware that he’s one of the causes. As if he weren’t feeling guilty enough already.

“Listen, I’m really sorry your mother couldn’t make it—” Fleamont mumbles, rubbing at his eyes furiously, nearly knocking his glasses off by accident in the process.

“No, no, it’s not that!” James protests, shaking his head. “I told you it’s fine! She got caught up at work. It happens.”

It had been a lie that neither of them had believed; not his father as he had excused Euphemia’s absence, and definitely not James while he had nodded along, assuring his father time and time again that it was okay and that he understood.

Still, pretending that it’s the truth instead of a way to make him feel a little less miserable so they can have a nice lunch is easier than forcing himself to face the truth. Regardless of how much it hurts to see his dad caught in the middle of the crossfire. He likes to act like he doesn’t mind, convinced that it’s a small bump in the road that’ll get fixed sooner rather than later. James isn’t used to fighting with his mother like this, but Fleamont had assured him that it’s completely normal. Healthy, even. Euphemia just needs a little more time to come to terms with what James had done.

He isn’t as hopeful as his father, having been disappointed more times than he can count in the last few months, but he appreciates that he’s trying so hard.

Sometimes, though, James wishes he’d stop. Maybe he’d stop feeling so pathetic that way.

“I swear she wanted to be here, James,” his father insists, desperation in his words. He can barely suppress a wince. “But you know how busy she gets at this time of the year, and you know your mum, she needs to make sure that everything is absolutely perfect—”

“Dad,” James sighs, a beg hidden somewhere in his tone. “I promise you I’m not upset about that.”

His father squints his eyes at him. “Okay,” he drawls, not bothering to hide that he isn’t convinced in the slightest. “What’s up, then? And don’t try to tell me that it’s nothing, Jay. I know you like the back of my hand. I raised you, I’m familiar with every single one of your tics and mannerisms—”

“Fine, fine, Jesus, no need to go all overbearing parent on me,” James huffs out with a roll of his eyes. His lips do curl a little upward though, and this time, the gesture is genuine. “It’s just—work, you know? I’ve been a little stressed lately because of it, that’s all.”

Fleamont gives him a very flat stare and James wants to squirm under the scrutiny. Still, and refusing to back down, he holds his father’s gaze, keeping his expression casual, not even looking away when he takes another sip of his drink.

“James, I wasn’t born yesterday,” his father reminds him, the way he scoffs right after reminding James of Regulus and sending a sharp sting straight through his chest.

“I’ve no idea of what you mean, old man,” James retorts teasingly, snorting at the outrageous expression that twists his father’s features. “It’s not the first time work has been a bit of a pain—”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you’re worried about your job after everything that’s been going on these past few weeks,” Fleamont mutters drily, and James is forced to avert his gaze, eyebrows twitching.

“I’ve been trying to go on with my life, dad, you know that—”

“I’m afraid it’s not that easy, darling. And there’s nothing wrong with struggling a little along the way.”

“I guess—”

“And there’s also nothing wrong with not wanting to talk about it. But you don’t have to lie about it, Jay.”

James swallows down a scoff, making sure he stomps down on the tiny spark of anger his father’s words seem to ignite in the pit of his stomach.

“You’re one to talk,” he grumbles under his breath, glaring at the cutlery in front of him.

“James,” his father starts, voice a little tight.

“It’s just a bit of everything,” James intervenes quickly. Half of the conversations he’s had in the last weeks ended up turning into an argument one way or another, and he’s so fucking drained. He refuses to fight his father when he’s one of the few people he actually feels like is on his side. Least of all in the middle of a packed restaurant, his mother has taught him better than that.

“What is?” his father questions, leaning forward but careful to not knock his glass of wine over. “Are those assholes bothering you again, Jay?”

“Language, dad,” James scolds, grinning at the eyeroll it earns him. “And, I mean, they never really stopped—”

“You said Sirius had gotten them off your back!”

“Sure, for like, a day or two,” James snorts. “It’s social media, dad. People are always pricks over there.”

“Well, they shouldn’t be. You’ve already gone through enough.”

“They don’t care about that. Attacking me on the internet makes them feel better about themselves, I suppose.”

“I still think we should report them.”

“Not like that’s gonna do much, but if it makes you happy.”

“The things they’re calling you over there, Jay.” His father clicks his tongue, his brown eyes darkening as he takes a hold of his glass, taking a gulp of red wine. “They shouldn’t be allowed.”

“I mean, I am a cheater—” James points out with a little shrug. It never becomes easier, saying it out loud, but at least he doesn’t flinch at the word anymore.

“You made a mistake once! Once!” his father hisses, waving his free hand around. “And it’s not like these people know you, or what you’re like!”

“Exactly, they don’t know me. But what they’ve seen of me isn’t exactly flattering.”

“I don’t know if I agree. Cheating aside—”

“I’m not sure that’s something you can simply put aside, dad—”

“Cheating aside,” Fleamont repeats viciously, his voice not leaving any room for argument. “You were a goddamn sweetheart in that show. Everyone adored you! And before you and Regulus got together, you were everyone’s favourite.”

“Yeah, Remus mentioned something about that,” James sighs, mildly amused.

“But you mess up one time and suddenly you’re the devil’s spawn.” His father mutters something else under his breath that James doesn’t manage to catch, before he takes another sip of his wine, wrinkles covering the entirety of his forehead. “What would they know, anyway?”

“It’s not like they matter, so it’s fine,” James huffs out, endeared by his dad’s antics. He had listened to Regulus’ advice and stayed away from social media during his first few weeks back in London. By the time he had opened his accounts once again and the rude comments began to reach him, James had been mostly unbothered by the whole thing. He still feels terrible about what he did, but he couldn’t care less about what a bunch of strangers’ opinion on the subject is, that’s for sure. “And besides, most of the people that recognise me on the street have been lovely.”

“Good,” Fleamont nods, his frown not completely gone just yet. “You already have enough on your plate, and I don’t want this to make it worse. I know you’re trying to leave everything related to the show behind.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple,” James murmurs, running a hand through his hair and pointedly ignoring the little kick his dad gives him under the table. He’s always giving him shit about not looking after his hair properly, which James thinks is fair, considering his dad’s line of work. Still, winding him up is so very entertaining. “It’ll die down eventually, but Temptation Island is way too popular. I’m never gonna be free of it, not completely, but I’m—I wanna make my peace with it.”

Fleamont smiles sweetly at him, his eyes softening around the edges. “That’s the spirit, darling. Don’t let them get to you, yeah?”

“I’m working on it.”

“And that’s all you can do.”

James gives him a little nod, allowing his mouth to turn upwards.

“If it’s not related to that stupid show and its fans, what’s on your mind, then?” his father questions, going for nonchalant and failing spectacularly. James isn’t fast enough to repress his groan. Of course his father wouldn’t let it go. He’s been extra nosy since he came back from the island.

“Dad, I told you, it’s a combination of a lot of things, but you don’t have to—” James complains, not caring that he sort of sounds like a whiny child.

“Trouble in paradise?” Fleamont cuts him off with a raised eyebrow, a victorious glint shining in his eyes the moment James falters. “Ah, so that’s it.”

James exhales loudly through his nose and looks away, fingers curling around his cold pint glass in an attempt to ground himself slightly.

He hasn’t told his father anything about what went down between him and Regulus the last time they saw each other. He has no idea if it’s due to the part of him that’s still hoping they’ll fix it at some point, and find their way back to each other, or if he simply isn’t in the mood to deal with Fleamont’s inevitable disappointment. He can tell that one of the reasons why his dad has been able to cope with James’ questionable actions is because he truly believes he did it all out of love. He doesn’t even want to imagine how destroyed his father would be if he found out that he and Regulus are over even before they got the chance to truly start.

“You know a little fighting is completely normal, Jay, especially between couples,” Fleamont goes on, misinterpreting James’ silence. “I’d say it’s healthy, even. I’m aware that you and Lily barely argued, but, well, your boy does seem to be the feisty type.” He chuckles fondly, and James’ heart flips painfully.

It’s something Fleamont has taken a liking to, referring to Regulus as James’ boy. Under different circumstances it’d make him feel giddy and perhaps a little flustered, but considering everything that’s happened, it only serves as a devastating reminder that Regulus is, in fact, not his.

“It’s not like that, we’ve just—been busy lately,” James grits out, every word feeling like sharp nails digging into his skin.

“You miss him,” Fleamont coos at him, playful, kicking him softly under the table once again.

“Of course I do,” James mutters with a sideway glare, and, well, he isn’t exactly lying about that one.

“Young love,” his father sighs a little wistfully, before he reaches out to pat him gently on his forearm. “It’ll be fine, Jay. You’ll find time for each other at some point.”

“I hope so.” James shifts in his seat, still having a hard time holding his father’s gaze for longer than a handful of seconds.

“Trust me on this, you just need some time to get used to this new dynamic. I’m still waiting to meet him, you know—”

“Dad, don’t start—”

“But it’s been months!”

“And we just made it official a few weeks ago! You’re gonna scare him away!”

“I don’t see how,” his father scoffs, pouting slightly. “I feel like we’d get along really well—”

“That’s so not the point,” James says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Meeting the parents is too big of a step—”

“It’s only one parent, though!”

“And you know Regulus is estranged from his family! It’d be too much too soon!”

That does seem to appease Fleamont a little, even though the man makes sure his face never stops showing his irritation at not getting his way.

“I suppose that makes sense,” he concedes, albeit reluctantly. “I still remember how uncomfortable Sirius used to be around me and your mum when he first started to come over.”

The smile that takes over James’ face is a little sad, but is sincere nonetheless. “Yeah,” he whispers.

“Still can’t believe those two are brothers,” his dad comments, scratching at his beard, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Like, don’t get me wrong, now that I know, it’s so obvious it pains me, but when you first mentioned it I thought you were having me on.”

“I know the feeling,” James murmurs quietly.

“Any progress on that front?”

“Not really? They don’t seem very keen on reconnecting.”

“But they have you in common now.”

James shrugs helplessly. This is a topic that he’s pushed to the back of his mind, simply because he doesn’t have the mental capacity to tackle it properly. There’s also the fact that it is, technically, none of his fucking business, but it’s not like that’s ever stopped him before.

“They can’t avoid each other forever,” Fleamont insists, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, but they can certainly try.” James chuckles softly. “You know how they are.”

“Actually, I don’t, because you refuse to introduce me to your boyfriend—”

“Dad,” James hisses in complaint, pretending he doesn’t feel a flutter in his chest at the word ‘boyfriend’. It comes accompanied by a bitter aftertaste at the back of his mouth, but James is an expert at ignoring that by now.

“I’m just saying.” His father raises his hands in mock surrender. “It doesn’t have to be this big event, we can just all just go to the pub, have a couple of pints—”

“Reg isn’t a fan of beer,” James grumbles.

His father cocks his head to the side. “Is he into wine, instead?”

“Very much so. Especially the French kind.”

“Ah, a man of taste,” Fleamont hums approvingly, nodding. “He and I can have a bottle, then.”

“You trying to get him drunk, or what?”

“He is a bit of a lightweight, if those parties were anything to go by…”

James kind of wants to slam his head against the wooden table as many times as it takes to crack his skull open.

“Can you stop reminding me that you watched the show? Please?”

“Jay, this is as awkward for me as it is for you—”

“Doesn’t feel like it!”

“But you gotta understand that it’s all I have when it comes to my knowledge about Regulus—”

“Not this again,” James groans, tilting his head so far back his neck cramps.

“If you’d just let me meet him—” Fleamont continues, undeterred.

“You could just ask whatever you wanna know!” James points out, frustration seeping into his voice.

“It’s not the same—”

“Well, it’s gonna have to wait whether you like it or not, so whining isn’t gonna take you anywhere.”

His father scowls, and then presses his glass to his lips, trying to find some comfort in what’s left of his whine.

“If you weren’t so stubborn,” Fleamont grunts, visibly displeased. “You got it from your mum, you know?”

James stares at him, deadpan. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” his dad stresses, throwing a haughty glance in James’ direction. This man, honestly. “And you wanna know what I think?”

“No, actually—”

“I think you just want to keep the boy to yourself.”

James throws his hands up in the air, certain that they’re earning themselves more than a couple bewildered looks. He’s a little too overwhelmed to care, though.

“Why would I do that?” he exclaims, blinking rapidly.

His father shrugs. “You tell me. I mean, let’s be honest, Jay, you’ve always had a bit of a possessive streak—”

“I wonder where I got that from.”

“Hey, now—” Fleamont begins, the beginning of a scowl taking over his expression.

They’re interrupted by their waitress bringing out the first course, and it must be a little baffling to watch, they way they switch it up without faltering, matching smiles on their mouths as they rush to thank the woman, who’s a little pink in the face by the time she leaves their table.

His father glares at him once she’s out of sight, and James prepares himself to continue exactly where they left off, but Fleamont seems to take pity on him in the end. That, or his hunger is stronger than his need to annoy the shit out of his son.

He’s tucking in a second later, and James doesn’t take long to follow suit. His appetite hasn’t been the best lately, but it’s been a long, exhausting morning, and the food smells heavenly, so not even his moody stomach will ruin this for him.

It’d taste better if his mother was there to share the meal with them, but, well. James supposes it could be a lot worse. He’s been learning that the hard way.

***

“Just tell me what he did. I’ve seen his worst, James, I can take it—”

“It’s not about that,” James sighs tiredly, not even bothering to turn around from the hob. He’s been in charge of cooking since he moved in—temporarily, of course—with Sirius and Remus, since they refused to let him contribute to rent or bills. And he refuses to feed them anything that isn’t absolutely perfect.

His best friend, however, seems quite set on ruining his concentration, so if any of them end up getting food poisoning tonight, James is gonna be quick to point his finger to the true culprit.

He doesn’t even understand where Sirius’ sudden fixation with the Regulus situation is coming from. After they had that fight about it, and Sirius finally explained everything that had transpired between him and his brother, he had made a point of never bringing him up. Not in James’ presence, at least. In fact, he seemed to love to pretend that James and Regulus’ little rendezvous had never happened in the first place, and James had been quite happy to comply. Mostly, because Sirius always got quiet and cold when Regulus was brought up.

Now, though? The questions are constant. And James doesn’t fucking get it. Sirius is still very weird about his brother, but Regulus is slowly becoming their only topic of conversation, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it. James is already on the edge of insanity, closer and closer to cracking with every day that passes without Regulus, having to read his lovely messages but never allowing himself to respond. Sirius is only making matters worse.

“You don’t owe him shit,” Sirius insists, and sure, he does kind of have a point, but it’s easier said than done. “You’re done with him, that’s what you said. I don’t understand why you keep protecting him—”

“Why do you care?” James wonders with a huff, whisking the eggs a bit more aggressively.

“I don’t,” Sirius answers a bit too quickly, his tone light.

James rolls his eyes, happy that his best friend can’t see his face.

“I just think it’s a little suspicious—” Sirius goes on after a beat, and James’ eyes flutter closed, his movements stopping for a moment before he resumes them.

“It’s not. It’s merely none of your business, Sirius,” James mutters, leaving the bowl with the mixed eggs on the counter and then reaching for a spatula.

“What the fuck? We tell each other everything!”

“Sure, but sometimes we gotta have some boundaries—”

“Please, as if you know what that is.”

James gives him the finger over his shoulder, and he doesn’t need to check to be sure that Sirius is definitely returning the gesture.

“I don’t get why we’re talking about this in the first place,” James says with a light shake of his head, frowning as he tries to remember what’s the next step of the recipe. See, this is why he doesn’t like having people in the kitchen while he’s cooking. Especially when said people have a mouth as big as Sirius.

“Because it’s been weeks, and you’re still acting like a kicked puppy over my stupid brother,” Sirius scoffs, making James’ fingers clench around the spatula.

“Well, I’m sorry for not handling my break-up like you want me to—”

“It wasn’t a break-up. You two weren’t even together—”

“Wow, thanks for the reminder—”

“You’re the one who told me that!” Sirius exclaims in accusation, and James can hear some shuffling where he knows his friend is perched on a chair.

“Because it’s the truth,” James grunts, grabbing a pan and turning the heat on, his jaw clenched.

“You don’t sound very happy about that,” Sirius points out unnecessarily, and James swallows down a growl.

“That’s because I’m not.”

“Why don’t you go back to him, then?”

James freezes up, nearly dropping both the spatula and the bottle of oil he’s still holding. He blinks at the heating pan, then at the wall in front of him, and then at the pan once more, as if he’s expecting an explanation from either of them. In the end, he turns the heat slightly down, before he finally turns around, leaning against the counter and watching Sirius with both eyebrows arched.

He makes an effort to resist the urge to rub his ears. There’s no way he’s heard wrong, right? They aren’t whispering, and Sirius is only a few metres away from him. But it’s the only logical answer James’ brain is able to come up with.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Sirius complains with a roll of his eyes. He has his hair up in a bun today, and he’s still a little sweaty from work. He ended up staying at the shop for an extra hour today, since one of the cars is giving him a lot of trouble and he’s supposed to have it fixed by Friday. He had arrived home whining about how much he needed a shower, but after realising James was in the kitchen, already busy with dinner, he had chosen to keep him company. And there he still is.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t tell if you’re taking the piss,” James mutters, blinking at his friend.

Sirius scoffs, but the noise is mildly amused. “You have a terrible perception of me.”

“Bullshit. You can be a bit of a cunt when Regulus is involved, though.”

The mention of his brother is enough to get him to wrinkle his nose in distaste, and James nearly points a finger at the gesture, like there it is, that’s what I fucking mean, I’m not insane. He manages to keep it in, however, because he can be so very mature when he wants to be.

“I’m not that bad,” Sirius argues, but it’s half-hearted at best, and he only rolls his eyes when James gives him a flat stare. “And you like him.”

“So?”

“So, I’m trying to make an effort.”

James snorts, the noise fonder than he intended. “You told me to my face that the mere idea of us together made you wanna throw your intestines out.”

“It was my first time seeing you after having to watch you fuck the living daylight out of my brother,” Sirius retorts drily and, well, touché.

“You should’ve stopped after you saw us kiss the first time,” James sighs.

“I was too shocked. I could barely believe my eyes, James.” He clicks his tongue with a disappointed shake of his head. “Always knew there was no way you were straight, though. Why you’d have this realisation because of my brother when I’m right here, and have been for years, is beyond me, but there’s no accounting for taste, I suppose.”

James pushes his glasses up before pinching the bridge of his nose, exhaling softly.

“We’re not having this conversation again,” he declares, which earns him a scoff, for some reason.

“Fine,” Sirius says with a lazy move of his wrist. “Coward,” he adds as an afterthought, because of course he fucking does.

“Whatever. Anyways, if you don’t mind, I need to go back to dinner—”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sirius is quick to protest before James has the chance to return his attention to the hob.

James does a double take. “Wait, did you actually mean it?”

“Why would I bring it up otherwise?”

“Because you love to hear yourself speak?”

Sirius smirks at him, eyes slightly squinted as he leans back on his chair, balancing it on its two back legs. James stopped doing it after that one time he fell backwards and nearly broke his neck, but Sirius is too cool for that. Besides, he knows it annoys Remus, so he makes a point to do it even more.

“I think you’re mistaking me for yourself,” Sirius teases, always so charming even when he’s being a cunt.

James rolls his eyes, but his grin gives him away.

“So?” Sirius presses, drumming his fingers onto the table. “Why don’t you end everyone’s suffering and crawl back to my brat of a brother?”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” James retorts, the sentence rolling off his tongue with ease. Sirius doesn’t seem very bothered by it either, probably because he’s heard it endlessly these past few weeks. He barely even blinks, really. “And you know it’s not that easy.”

“Actually, I don’t, because you refuse to tell me what the fuck he did—”

“It’s not my story to tell—”

“Bullshit. It involves you as much as it involves him—”

“Just drop it already,” James mutters, turning around once more, doing his best to put an end to the conversation. It’s not like it’s going to go anywhere, and he’d rather do something productive, like finally finishing dinner.

“I don’t think I will,” Sirius singsongs, making a muscle spasm on the side of James’ jaw. “I’ll wear you down eventually, I always do.”

James’ presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, glancing briefly at the ceiling. “This is not some kind of game, Sirius.”

“Never said it was.”

“I’m asking you to let it go—”

“No. Tell me what happened.”

“Sirius—”

“What could he have done that’s so bad it’s taking you of all people so long to forgive him? Because we all know you’re gonna forgive him at some point, let’s not kid ourselves here.”

“Sirius, I mean it—”

“Does he wanna keep it casual?” Sirius tries, the mocking in his tone making James grit his teeth. “It wouldn’t surprise me—he’s always been very emotionally repressed. But he seemed so smitten with you during the show, I kinda can’t see it.”

“Sirius,” James mutters lowly, the warning clear in his voice.

“Or is it because he’s more of an asshole than you had originally anticipated? But he already antagonised you like his life depended on it, and you seemed very into it, so it can’t be that, either.”

“Stop saying that kind of shit about him, Sirius, I don’t like it—” James snaps, tilting his head enough for the other man to get a peek at his expression.

“I’m aware,” Sirius says in a mix between a huff and a chuckle. “You get so defensive over him. It’d be cute if it was anyone else.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, wait, did he cheat?” Sirius wonders, something like glee slipping into his words. James inhales sharply, one of his hands gripping the counter. “Man, that’d be so fucking hilarious. Karma, and all that, right? Has he been flirting with someone else? Had he been hiding a secret boyfriend?” Sirius feigns a gasp. “Or did he go back to Dorcas after—”

“You were right about him, okay? Every warning about how I shouldn’t trust him, and about Regulus being selfish, and a liar—you were right,” James interrupts him, slamming his hand hard against the marble beneath his palm. He peeks at Sirius over his shoulder, gaze hard and unforgiving, and he isn’t surprised to find his friend staring back with the same intensity. “There you fucking go. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

James keeps his attention on Sirius, chest heaving, sort of expecting him to grin or gloat a little, considering all the weeks he’s dropped offensive remark after offensive remark about his brother.

Except Sirius doesn’t do any of that. He blinks at James one, two, three, four times before he lowers his head. James watches him fiddle with his fingers, some of his fury leaving him as surprise takes over.

“I thought I did,” Sirius admits quietly, making a point of avoiding James’ eyes. “Now I’m not so sure.”

James’ eyes widen minutely before his face twists into a frown. He moves away from the counter, taking a tentative step towards Sirius—who’s currently glaring at the table—but before he can get any closer, he hears the front door open. Both he and Sirius jump a little, and then his friend is standing up, face breaking into an excited grin. He’s worse than a dog sometimes.

Less than half a minute later, Remus is stepping inside the kitchen, brown leather backpack hanging from one of his shoulders and cane in hand. Unsurprisingly, he goes straight to Sirius, all the exhaustion and pain flashing through his expression gone as soon as they melt in an embrace.

He thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever, but it also makes him think of Regulus, and how badly he wants to hug him, too. James can’t watch after that.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Remus greets his boyfriend once they pull away. There’s a crooked smile on his face, and he lets his backpack drop to the floor, just so he can wrap his now free arm around Sirius.

“Hey, Rem,” Sirius murmurs back, his tone equally soft. “How was work?”

“Tiring. And surprisingly busy. But I guess it makes sense. We’re in finals season, after all.” Remus shakes his head, before his gaze finds James. “And hello to you too, James. Already working on dinner?”

“Hi, Remus,” James says with the beginning of a smile, waving his hand. “And more like trying to. Your boyfriend has been distracting me for the past half an hour.”

Remus sighs, tilting his head to give Sirius a very pointed look. But there’s too much fondness shining in his eyes, and when Sirius leans forward to peck his lips sweetly, Remus just fucking melts.

Well, at least he’ll make sure to keep Sirius busy. James decides to count it as a win.

“Okay, that ends now,” Remus states, and he’s talking to James, but he barely looks away from Sirius. “You’re coming with me. I need to take a shower and it’s been so cold lately that my joints are bothering me more than usual. You’re gonna have to give me a hand—”

“And my mouth, if you want,” Sirius cuts in, and James groans even as a chuckle escapes him when he notices the way his best friend is wiggling his eyebrows.

Pink dusts Remus’ cheeks, and he clears his throat, averting his gaze. It doesn’t matter that they’ve been together for so long, Sirius still can get him flustered with just a couple of words.

“Sirius, I mean it,” Remus tells him, going for stern but failing miserably.

“I know. I do too.”

“If you’re gonna do this, can it be somewhere else?” James complains, but his voice lacks any heat.

“Aw, James, are we making you uncomfortable?” Sirius coos, turning around to face James while remaining as close as Remus as possible.

“Very much so.”

“Well, I think you should consider yourself lucky. At least we’re not making you watch us fuck.”

James splutters, some heat rushing up his neck, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“Come on, sweetheart, give the poor man a break,” Remus mutters, pulling lightly at the hem of Sirius’ shirt.

“Yeah, you need to get over it,” James explains, words coming out a little high-pitched. “You have to stop bringing it up whenever it suits you—”

“I’ll consider it if you stop being a coward.” Sirius shrugs, indifferent, but his eyes harden when they settle on James, and he can read the message shining behind them, loud and clear.

James swallows, the inside of his mouth feeling uncomfortably dry all of a sudden. He’s turning his back to them before any unwelcome emotions can slip into his expression.

He waves his hand around vaguely as he returns his attention to the unfinished meal, thankful that he had decided to turn down the heat. James had never expected to get derailed for this long, but you never know with Sirius.

“Just piss off. Go blow Remus, or whatever, but get out of my sight,” he grumbles. “I have dinner to finish.”

James hears Remus stutter something behind him, tripping over his words and not managing to form a coherent sentence. It’s not like it matters, because his voice gets drowned in Sirius’ bark of laughter.

“Love you!” Sirius exclaims, almost dragging a smile out of James.

“Yeah, love you too,” James sighs in return, feigning reluctance. “But the next time you try to pull shit like this, I’ll spit in your food.”

“Oh, James, don’t threaten me with a good time,” Sirius retorts, and a helpless chuckle slips past his lips.

The momentary joy doesn’t last long, his grin falling off his face the moment his friends’ step fade out. Still, and before sorrow can sink its claws in him, James puts all his focus in the food and utensils in front of him, never allowing his mind to stray.

Despite his best efforts, however, Sirius’ words continue to echo inside his head for the rest of the night.

***

James paces relentlessly around Remus’ tiny office, his hands coming up to pull at his hair every few seconds, a scowl etched into his expression. His friend is sitting behind his desk, reading glasses resting low on his nose and a furrow between his eyebrows as he holds James’ phone loosely in one hand.

He squints at the screen, adjusting his glasses as he moves the device closer to his face.

“What am I looking at?” Remus inquires, finally breaking the silence.

James stops right in front of him, running a hand through messy curls before he lets it drop at his side.

“Regulus’ last post on his story.”

Remus’ face goes slack, and when he lifts his head, he makes sure to give James the most deadpan stare he’s ever seen in his life, and that’s saying a lot, considering Regulus is an expert at that particular expression.

His friend puts James’ phone on top of the pile of assignments waiting for him to grade, and he takes a deep breath before interlacing his hands together.

“James,” Remus says, with the same tone his mother uses when she’s about to scold him.

“Okay, Remus, I know what you’re thinking, but—” James starts, his gaze a little pleading.

“You said you’d stop doing this.”

“And I will! Just—not yet?”

Remus sighs, deep and long-suffering. “It’s only bound to make you feel worse—”

“I know, I know, I promise I will stop looking starting tomorrow, but—”

“You should just block him, James.”

“Sure, I’ll do that too,” James agrees almost immediately, nodding in earnest. He’s lying, and he thinks Remus is aware of that, but he’s not going to call him out on it. “But right now I need you to tell me I’m not going insane.”

“You’ve been going insane for weeks—” Remus states flatly, leaning back in his chair.

“That’s the same guy, right?” James questions, gaze falling onto his phone, its screen still showing Regulus’ story, before it returns to Remus. “From that one pic last week?”

Remus looks him in the eye for a few seconds, lips pressed into a stern line and brown eyes slightly narrowed behind his glasses. James puts on his best kicked puppy expression, not backing down even as Remus’ staring turns into an actual glare.

He’s very serious about this. And he needs Remus to be, too.

In the end, his friend exhales loudly through his nose and averts his gaze. Before James can even consider begging, Remus is reaching out for the phone again, pushing the glasses up his nose and he gets very close to the device, focusing on the picture in front of him.

James beams at Remus, rocking on his heels as he watches his friend analyse the image closely.

“Okay, run me through it,” Remus mutters, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Because from what I can see, it’s a candid of Regulus at a bar. I’m guessing a friend took it—”

“Remus, it’s the guy!” James insists in a hiss, leaning over the desk so he can point at the person he’s referring to.

“What guy?” Remus questions, at a loss. He glances at James briefly before returning his attention to the phone. “You mean the bartender?”

“Yes!” James exclaims, nodding quickly. He taps at his screen, right where that blonde guy is standing behind the bar. “He was in the other picture too.”

Remus tilts his head to the side, wrinkles appearing on his forehead. He watches the picture closely, before he raises his eyes and meets James’ gaze, completely at a loss.

James sighs.

“Remember last week, when I found out Regulus had opened his Instagram account and I saw his story?” he questions, and Remus hums, none of his confusion disappearing. “He had posted a pic of him at a pub with some friends.”

“Yes,” Remus agrees in a drawl. “I still don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”

“There was a guy sitting beside him,” James explains slowly, almost as if he’s speaking to a child. By the way Remus looks at him over his glasses, he isn’t very happy with James’ tone. “He was barely in the frame, but—”

Remus snaps his fingers, sitting up slightly as his gaze lights up in recognition. “Ah, yes, that bloke! The one that got you jealous—”

“I’m not jealous,” James hurries to protest, suddenly feeling a little warm under his clothes. “That’d be very hypocritical of me. I’m just—just curious, that’s all.”

“Right,” Remus murmurs, blinking slowly. “Well, I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to help with that, I’ve no idea of who this is—”

“But it is the same man, right?” James questions once more, with urgency. “I’m not crazy?”

“Oh, you are plenty crazy, James. But yeah, I suppose they do look pretty similar—”

“Fucking knew it,” he hisses, taking his phone from Remus and glaring at the picture his screen is still displaying. “They seem to get along really well, huh?”

“He’s probably just a friend,” Remus sighs, one of his hands coming up to rub at his temple.

“Sure, of course,” James agrees absentmindedly. “But, I don’t know, they seem quite close. Look at how cozy they look in the picture.”

“James, he’s just serving him a pint. Maybe they work together—”

“I don’t know, I don’t smile at my coworkers like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that.”

Remus huffs. “You’re not making any sense—”

“You just don’t get it!” James protests, mouth curling. He’s unable to tear his gaze away from the image, from Regulus leaning against the bar, head half-tilted to smile at the bartender who seems to be chatting animatedly, eyes bright and focused on Regulus, in the process of putting a pint on the counter.

“Actually, I think I do,” Remus argues calmly. “You miss him and you’re terrified he might be moving on with someone else.”

James flinches as if hit, and then he curls a bit into himself, refusing to meet Remus’ knowing gaze.

“I—” he begins weakly.

“And you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“James, please, look at yourself,” Remus scoffs with a shake of his head. “It’d be sad if you weren’t being such a pain about it.”

“I just—I think it’s a little rude,” James sniffs, tilting his chin up.

“Rude,” Remus repeats, slow and deliberate.

“Yeah, rude,” James confirms, nodding to himself. “He’s still texting me, sending me all these sweet pics, while flirting with someone else? I thought he was serious about me.”

“James, nothing in this picture suggests that there’s any kind of flirting going on.”

“A couple of nights ago he left me this lovely message on voicemail, you know? He told me about his day, and then mentioned how much he misses me, and yet—”

“Okay, I feel like you might be spiralling a little bit—”

“I’m not!” James argues, raising his voice unconsciously, both hands coming to rest on Remus’ desk. His friend’s eyes widen, and he leans back slightly. “But I don’t get it. Who the fuck is this guy? Why is he all over Regulus?”

“What? They’re not even touching—” Remus tries again, taking his glasses off just so he can pinch the bridge of his nose more comfortably.

“Well, they look like they want to, so.” James straightens up and crosses his arms over his chest, scowling.

“This might sound like a crazy idea, but why don’t you, I don’t know, talk to him?” Remus reaches for the pile of assignments, putting his glasses back on as soon as all the sheets of paper are right in front of him.

James groans, stomping his foot. “Not you too.”

“Listen, I didn’t wanna get involved, not when it concerns Sirius’ brother. Besides, Sirius himself has already been pestering you about going back to Regulus, anyway. But this is getting annoying. Especially when it interferes with my job.”

“Remus, come on, I came here for some moral support—”

“Well, you won’t get it. I’m tired of dealing with your jealousy breakdowns and being forced to analyse Instagram stories for hours on end. There’s a reason why I don’t have any social media, James.”

“That’s just because you’re like an old man when it comes to technology—”

“Do you want to be with Regulus?”

James inhales sharply, his body taking a step back without his brain giving the order. His fingers twitch, and his eyes lower to the ground, his heart tumbling inside his chest.

“It’s not that easy,” he mumbles.

“That’s not what I asked,” Remus says, always with the patience of a goddamn saint.

“Yeah, but—”

“James. Do you want to be with Regulus?”

He hesitates, but not for longer than a second or two, swallowing thickly. “Yeah,” he confesses in a whisper, even though it’s no secret. Still, there’s something about admitting it out loud, especially when he’s been working so hard to get on with his life, keeping himself distracted. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Remus sighs, reaching for the first assignment before he grabs a red pen. “It’s been weeks. You’ve been absolutely miserable. I get that he hurt you, but—”

“He did more than hurt me, Rem. He broke my trust.”

“But he’s been trying to get it back, has he not?”

“Well, yeah—”

“I’m not saying you should forgive him straight away. But the distance is upsetting you both, and it’s not going anywhere. You’re not even trying to move on, which tells me you’re planning on getting back together with him at some point, and he’s been contacting you nonstop for weeks.”

“But what if—” James starts with a croak, pausing to clear his throat. “What if it’s too soon? What if I’m not ready for it? I don’t want our relationship to be built on resentment, and I don’t—I haven’t forgiven him yet, I don’t think. Not completely.”

“And that’s absolutely fine, James,” Remus reassures him, lifting his head from the assignment to give him a small smile. “I won’t pretend to understand what’s going on between you two, because it’s none of my business, and it was already messy to begin with considering where and how it all started. But I think talking to him wouldn’t hurt.”

James gulps, squirming in his seat. “I know you’re right, but I’m so scared, Remus. Last time we were supposed to fix everything and make it official, but it ended—it went so badly. And I can’t—I won’t be able to take it if it goes wrong again.”

“Well, that’s a risk you’re gonna have to take.” Remus shrugs, writing something in the margin of the sheet he’s currently revising. “You will lose him if you keep this up. Regulus isn’t going to wait forever.”

“He should,” James grumbles. “This is all his fault.”

“Weren’t you the one who ghosted him for an entire month?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And he still agreed to hear you out. I’d say he deserves the same treatment, don’t you think?”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“And I am,” Remus tells him, not glancing up once. “Which means I want you to be happy.”

James sighs quietly. He knows that Remus is right, but it’s easier to continue hiding, reading Regulus’ messages and stalking him on social media. Ignoring Sirius’ probing questions and his comments about going back to Regulus isn’t as difficult, simply because he has a tendency to turn every conversation that involves his brother into an argument, so James always shuts him down.

Remus is making a lot of sense, however, which James doesn’t like. Not when it means admitting he’s been handling things badly, and acting like a bit of a knob.

Part of him has been waiting for an excuse to contact Regulus, to finally pick up his calls and ask him to please come back to him. But the other side of James won’t let him, too terrified and too angry to even consider it seriously.

“Also, I am not dealing with another one of your possessive outbursts,” Remus adds a bit sharply, pulling James out of his thoughts. “I swear it was never this bad when you were with Lily.”

His stomach turns at the mention of his ex, and James can barely repress the urge to rub at his belly, trying to will the discomfort away.

He misses her, too. Maybe not to the same degree that he misses Regulus, and definitely not in the same way, but James wishes he could talk to her, ask her for advice. Not like Lily would ever agree to help him when it comes to this, and rightfully so, but James can’t help his feelings on the matter.

“I was very secure in what we had,” James explains in a mumble, giving a little shrug.

“Maybe too secure,” Remus comments softly, but he’s shaking his head and changing the topic before James can ask what he means. “Anyways, if that’s all, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. I need to have this all done by tomorrow.”

“Of course,” James agrees, already walking backwards towards the door. “So, um, you’ve been talking to Lily?”

Remus drops his pen, and then he’s raising his head just so he can give James a warning look.

“Nothing wrong with that, by the way! I’m aware that you got along really well. I was just, just wondering. Is she—is she doing okay?”

Remus blinks at him. “James?”

“Yeah?”

“Get the fuck out of my office.”

“Yeah, okay.”

***

Whenever James wakes up in the middle of the night after a nightmare, with his chest heaving and his skin covered in sweat, it’s Regulus’ daily updates that manage to calm him down the best.

Sure, sometimes he wakes Sirius up, who never says anything or asks, because he knows James like the back of his hand, and he probably has a pretty good idea of what kind of things haunt him at night. But he never hesitates to keep him company in the kitchen, both of them drinking a cup of tea in silence until they return to bed. Other times, he even crawls in bed with him, keeping a certain distance but still touching James.

They always wake up to find out that Remus has also joined them during the night, the three of them barely fitting in James’ bed but still making it work.

James appreciates them both more than words could ever explain.

Still, nothing helps quite like Regulus’ words do. His voice, the hundreds of pictures he sends that James has safely stored in his phone. It makes him feel closer to the other man, reminds him that Regulus still cares, that he still wants him despite everything, and he’s merely giving him time, patiently waiting for James to be ready.

On bad days, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, the fury so blinding it’s almost suffocating, and his fingers itching with the need to block Regulus everywhere, not wanting to even hear a whisper of his name.

Most of the time, however, James just yearns. Yearns for Regulus and what they had and what they could have, if he could stop being a fucking coward. If he let himself give Regulus another chance, hear what he has to say, allow the other man to fix things.

He’s written a message or two before, finger hovering over the send button, heart beating frantically in his chest and a soft ringing in his ears. James misses Regulus so much it makes him sick.

But he never dares send it. Never dares to indulge. Because Regulus can’t break his heart again if James doesn’t permit it, right?

***

He and Sirius are lounging on the couch, watching highlights from the football match they both missed because of work. They’re not paying that much attention; Sirius has a thick novel in his lap he seems pretty interested in, considering he hasn’t yelled at the telly a single time in the past fifteen minutes. James is scrolling through social media absentmindedly, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood whenever he gets the urge to check Regulus’ account.

See? He’s making progress. Take that, Remus. Sure, he might not have been able to block Regulus—and he doesn’t think he ever will—but at least he’s practising some self-restraint. There’s a high possibility he’ll end up with some kind of wound inside his mouth at this rate, but at least he’s managed to not check the other man’s story for two days now.

Baby steps, and all that.

James is about to sink his teeth in once again, fingers hovering over the search bar, when someone rings the doorbell. He startles, blinking rapidly as his gaze slides towards the entrance of the living room, as if that’s going to answer any of his questions.

He turns to stare at Sirius, but it doesn’t seem like his friend has heard it. He has a little furrow in his brow, and his eyes are focused on the book on his lap and moving over the lines with an urgency that suggests he’s at a very tense part. James wonders if maybe he imagined the sound, or if it was someone else’s doorbell, and he’s about to return to his phone when it happens again. This time, for a bit longer. It even manages to get Sirius’ attention, who jumps a little in his seat and then looks around the room, a bit disoriented.

“Did we have plans with anyone today?” Sirius questions after a beat, his focus finally on James.

“Not that I know of,” he replies with a helpless shake of his head. “You and Rem mentioned something about going to the pub on Friday, and then Saturday we have Remus’ work thing, but that’s about it.”

Sirius frowns. “Weird.”

The doorbell rings again, making them both flinch. Sirius elbows James softly on the side a moment later, pointing towards the door with a move of his head when James arches an eyebrow at him.

“You get it,” he tells him before returning to his novel.

“Why me?” James protests, even though he’s already getting up from the couch. He stretches his body, a bit sore after staying in the same position for so long, a soft groan escaping his lips.

“You’re closer to it,” Sirius retorts, already sounding distracted. “And I’m busy.”

“Reading doesn’t count as being busy,” James huffs, starting to make his way outside the living room.

“It does now,” Sirius singsongs, and James rolls his eyes. “Oh, if it’s Linda from upstairs, tell her I’ll go check on her dishwasher tomorrow morning!”

“Why are you checking on someone’s dishwasher?” James yells back, walking down the hall towards the entrance of the flat.

“It’s been leaking for over a week, and she asked me to take a look at it!” Sirius explains loudly.

“Why, though? You’re a mechanic, not a plumber.”

“Dunno. But it can’t be that difficult, right? If I can fix a car, I can fix a bloody dishwasher.”

James scoffs, even though Sirius is too far away to see it. “Mate, I don’t think that’s how it—”

His sentence dies as soon as he opens the door, jaw dropping to the floor when he sees Regulus standing there, sporting the most awkward smile he’s ever seen and holding a bouquet of white tulips.

“Hi,” Regulus greets him quietly, wincing the moment the word leaves his mouth.

The sound of his voice is enough to make James inhale sharply, hands trembling at his sides with the need to reach out, to touch, to check that Regulus is truly here in front of him. He’s been craving to see him so much that it wouldn’t surprise James if this was just a product of his imagination. His mind hasn’t been the kindest to him these past few months, so of course it’d show him exactly what he wants to see just to take it away from him.

He continues to gape, unable to even blink a single time, scared that as soon as he closes his eyes, Regulus will disappear. The other man shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his grip on the flowers tightening and making a rustling noise. James’ gaze falls upon the bouquet, eyebrows shooting to his hairline, before his attention returns to Regulus’ face. His smile is beginning to dim the longer James stares in silence.

“James?” Regulus asks softly, and he sounds so nervous.

James finally blinks, nearly letting out a relieved sigh when Regulus is still there afterwards, tension rolling off his body in waves.

“Sorry,” James mutters, blinking once again. “Are you real?”

Regulus’ expression breaks a little at that, lips curling downward and eyes filling with what can only be sorrow. James hates that he caused this sort of reaction in the other man, although he has no idea of what it is that he said that made him so upset.

He’s genuinely asking. Not like he should expect an honest response if this is actually his brain playing tricks on him but, well. It’s worth a shot.

“Yeah, James,” Regulus answers softly, rolling his lower lip between his teeth. James is helpless to the way his gaze immediately follows the movement. “I’m real. I’m here.”

“Oh,” James breathes out, blinking a couple more times, his heart skipping a beat. “Why are you—how did you—the address—”

“Um,” Regulus says, ducking his head as he grimaces. All of a sudden, he doesn’t seem to want to meet James’ eyes. “I got some help?”

“You got some help,” James repeats, uncomprehending.

Regulus curls into himself, raising the bouquet a little higher, like he’s trying to hide behind it. James shouldn’t find it as adorable as he does.

“It’s complicated,” the other man sighs quietly.

“Complicated,” James repeats once again, his brain struggling to process the current situation. He’s almost sure that he’s not dreaming, but that doesn’t make it easier to handle. “And the flowers?”

Regulus’ eyes widen minutely, and he focuses on the tulips he’s still holding onto, blinking down at them. There’s a soft pink dusting his cheeks when his attention returns to James, and a moment later, he’s taking a step forward and extending his arm, pressing the bouquet against James’ chest.

It takes him a few seconds, but he manages to react, arms coming up and fingers curling around the paper enveloping the flowers.

“For you,” Regulus blurts out, the words coming out as if punched out of him. When James raises his head to look at him, he finds that his blush has worsened considerably, nearly reaching the tip of his ears.

Christ, he’s so cute. James wants to kiss him so bad it’s making him dizzy.

He leans down, taking a deep inhale, the sweet scent of the flowers filling his senses. James has no idea of what kind of meaning white tulips have, or if Regulus picked them out with any meaning in mind, but they’re real fucking pretty, and the other man got them specifically for him, and that’s all James cares about, really.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s still reeling about Regulus being at Sirius and Remus’ flat, and he has so many questions he doesn’t know where to start. Not to mention, his conflicting emotions are bound to make an appearance at some point, no matter how elated he currently is about Regulus’ visit.

For now, though, he’s just happy about his flowers. No one has ever given him a bouquet before, unless the one his parents got him when he graduated counts. And James had never considered himself to be a flower person, but this might make him reconsider.

“Thank you,” James breathes out, his mouth curling upward against his will. Regulus doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the gesture, and this time, his grin is effortless, genuine. It sends a shiver down James’ spine. “You wanna come in?”

Regulus raises both eyebrows slightly, his lips parting but no sound coming out of his mouth. “Um. Are you sure? I didn’t—I wasn’t expecting anything to come out of this, I just wanted… I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“I appreciate that,” James murmurs, his smile widening. “But now that you’re here I feel like we have some things to discuss.”

James feels sort of nauseous as soon as he utters that last sentence, but he manages to swallow it all down and clear his head a little, proud of himself for not closing the door on Regulus’ face the moment he grabbed the flowers.

He can be brave and mature and choose to talk things out. Sure, it had reached the point where Regulus showed up unannounced—James still can’t, for the life of him, understand how he found the address—but he deserves some credit regardless. Both for not jumping into Regulus’ arms when he opened the door and for not kicking him out when his brain caught up with what’s happening.

Take that, Remus.

“James?” Sirius exclaims, the name followed by footsteps. “What the fuck is taking you so long? If they’re trying to convince you to buy something just say no, it’s probably a scam any—”

When Sirius finally reaches him and sees exactly who’s at the door, the rest of his words seem to die in his mouth. James cringes with his whole body, moving in an attempt to shield Regulus from view, even though he knows it’s too late. It only takes him a brief glance to realise Sirius is peeking from over his shoulder, eyes round as he stares at his brother in what can only be incredulity.

James braces himself for the subsequent screaming match that he fears might be inevitable, ready to intervene if the situation calls for it, but it never comes. He waits a few more seconds, just in case both brothers are too shocked to react quickly enough, but nope, neither of them has moved a single centimetre.

In fact, Regulus’ doesn’t seem furious or on the verge of a breakdown. If anything, he seems annoyed, one of his eyes twitching almost imperceptibly and lips curled in distaste. James blinks at him, and then he turns his head to look at Sirius, startled to find him smirking lazily at Regulus.

He has the feeling that he’s missed something here, but James doesn’t know what, or when it could’ve happened.

“Well, what do we have here?” Sirius mutters, something smug glinting in his gaze. “Look who decided to crawl back.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Regulus bites out, but it’s a pretty weak retort, especially considering who he’s aiming it at. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Except it kinda does,” Sirius says with an arched eyebrow. “You’re welcome, Reggie.”

“Fuck off.”

“Aw, and you got flowers too? You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?” Sirius’ tone is mocking, but apart from going a little red and narrowing his eyes, Regulus doesn’t appear to be too bothered by it.

Like, yeah, sure, he’s clearly not happy about Sirius being there, talking to him, but he’s still dealing with the situation a lot better than James had expected.

He’s so very confused.

But, then again, he’s an only child, so what does he know, really? Siblings work in mysterious ways, and James gave up trying to understand them many years ago. And that had been even before he had found out about Sirius having a brother. He isn’t touching this with a ten-foot pole. He’s already more involved than he’d like.

“What’s it to you?” Regulus scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I mean, you are at my flat, Reggie,” Sirius reminds him, mild amusement filling his expression when Regulus scowls. “I’d say it concerns me, at least to a degree.”

“I’m only here for James,” Regulus states, lifting his chin proudly, and James’ heart flutters in his chest. Oh, this is so bad. He needs to pull himself together, and he needs to do it fast.

“Of course,” Sirius drawls with a roll of his eyes. “Why else, right?”

There’s something hiding in his tone, and Regulus must notice it too, might even know what it is, because his jaw clenches as he watches his brother with stiffened shoulders. James wants to interfere, but he fears he’ll only make things worse.

“You fucking owe me, yeah?” Sirius says after a beat, his grin spreading wider, until it merely feels like a bare of teeth.

James frowns, eyes searching over Regulus’ face. But the other man doesn’t tear his gaze away from Sirius, looking like he’d love to strangle him. In the end, however, Regulus gives Sirius a tiny nod, albeit reluctantly.

“Good,” Sirius sighs, his whole face finally relaxing. He’s so damn pleased with himself, and James doesn’t understand a single thing. Since when are they so civil with each other? Well, maybe ‘civil’ isn’t the most accurate word, but something akin to it. Isn’t this the first time they’re seeing each other in over seven years? “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to give you both some privacy. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.”

“Sirius—” James begins, the furrow between his eyebrows still very much present.

His best friend interrupts him with a clap, and then he’s tilting his head back, staring at the empty hall. “Rem, babe, you there?” he yells, making both James and Regulus wince a little at the volume.

It takes a handful of seconds, but then there’s the sound of steps getting nearer, followed by Remus’ head peeking out from the living room’s entrance.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks, voice a bit hoarse.

“I’m feeling like going out,” Sirius tells him, sounding surprisingly cheerful. “You fancy a little walk?”

Remus blinks at him. “Not really? I got home, like, half an hour ago, and if I’m being honest, I was hoping to sit down and—”

Sirius moves out of the way while Remus speaks, pushing James slightly in the process until Regulus is in Remus’ line of sight. As soon as he notices him and his brain processes just who is standing on their doorstep, Remus closes his mouth abruptly. James can see how his eyes linger on Regulus, not blinking a single time as he goes a little pale, although you can never be sure with Remus, especially after a long day of work.

“Actually, darling, I think a walk sounds lovely,” Remus murmurs after a moment or two, a certain strain in his voice.

Sirius hums, satisfied, giving his boyfriend a little nod. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

They both rush to put some shoes on; Sirius is faster, so he gets his jacket as well as Remus’ coat and his cane, and patiently waits for him next to the door, rocking gently on his heels. James doesn’t take his eyes away from Regulus the whole time, while Regulus’ attention is all on his brother, shooting daggers at the back of his head.

Remus takes a couple more minutes to get ready, but once he has everything, he seems to be in a hurry, arm wrapping around Sirius’ shoulders the moment he reaches him, and urgently guiding him outside of the flat. Regulus moves out of their way without a word, but James doesn’t miss the way his nose wrinkles when Sirius and Remus walk past him, gaze filled with judgement as he looks his brother’s boyfriend up and down.

James feels like maybe he should be a little offended on his friend’s behalf, but, well. Regulus is entitled to his own opinion. Besides, he looks adorable with his nose all scrunched up like that, and it’s not like he’s made any snarky comments about Remus, so James supposes it’s fine.

“Sorry about that,” James sighs, not entirely sure why he feels the need to apologise.

Regulus finally focuses on him once again, shaking his head furiously. All the irritation seems to leave his face as soon as his eyes land on James.

“It’s fine,” the other man assures him. “I know how my brother can be firsthand. And I’m grateful for the privacy.”

James shifts in his place. “Yeah, me too. You coming in, then?”

“Sure.”

He steps to the side, and Regulus only hesitates for a moment before he’s walking inside the flat. James closes the door behind him and then trails after Regulus, who’s making his way slowly but surely towards the living room.

Once they reach it, Regulus stops right at the entrance, as if he’s unsure of where to go or what he’s allowed to do. James bites his bottom lip and then presses his hand to the small of Regulus’ back, keeping the contact light and barely repressing the urge to dig his fingers in, to grab onto the other man and never let him go.

Regulus jumps, but he doesn’t move away from the touch. In fact, he kind of leans into it, his shoulders going rigid before they sag once more.

“C’mon,” James urges him softly, pushing him gently, and Regulus nods to himself before he heads towards the couch, his steps a little more confident now.

He sits down in the same spot where Sirius had been reading his book, and somehow, it makes the corners of James’ mouth twitch.

James follows suit and sits beside him, but leaving some space between their bodies even though every part of him is screaming to get closer. Regulus remains slightly stiff, his back perfectly straight, and he doesn’t attempt to get comfortable, which saddens James. He gets why, but he still wishes Regulus would feel safer here, with him.

His fingers spasm, and James remembers he’s still holding onto the bouquet of tulips. He’s getting up a second later, panic flashing through Regulus’ expression.

“Where are you—” he begins to question.

“Just getting a vase for the flowers,” James explains, already making his way towards the kitchen. He gives the other man a tiny smile over his shoulder. “I don’t want them to wilt.”

That seems to calm some of Regulus’ fears, who blinks a couple of times, gaze still a little wary, before he nods.

James makes sure to be fast, opening a cabinet and grabbing the first empty vase he sees, filling it with water and then putting the tulips inside carefully. He carries them back to the living room, where Regulus is tapping his foot against the floor. James places the vase on the coffee table in front of them, smiling to himself at the sight of the flowers, before he sits back down beside Regulus.

The other man twists his body slightly until he’s facing James, his hands resting on his lap but twitching every few seconds, like Regulus is struggling to remain completely still. James understands the sentiment. If he could, he wouldn’t even be sat down for this; he feels about ready to crawl out of his fucking skin.

“So,” he begins, unable to handle the quiet for much longer, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess we should—”

“I’m sorry,” Regulus blurts out before James has even managed to figure out what he wants to say. “I’m really fucking sorry, James.”

Well. He hadn’t expected to get straight into it, but James supposes that there’s no point in beating around the bush.

His expression hardens a little, gaze becoming guarded while he regards Regulus, who is now twisting his fingers anxiously.

“Okay,” James says, his voice not giving anything away. “What are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for lying about—well, a lot of things.” Regulus cringes with his whole body, curling a little into himself. It’s clear that he wants to run away, that this conversation is painful for him, but he stays on the couch, gaze never leaving James. “Me and Dorcas are best friends. Have been for years. I met her not long after I left home, when I landed my first job. The pay was shitty and I worked about 50 hours a week, but my savings weren’t gonna last forever, and considering I never finished my degree, and didn’t have any friends outside my parents’ circles, I didn’t have a lot of options.”

“That part of your story was true, then” James murmurs.

“Yeah. We just—we changed it a bit, used it as the beginning of our made-up love story because Dorcas said that it’d be easier, and more believable, if it was based on the truth.”

“Smart.” James is unable to keep the bitterness completely out of his tone, and considering how Regulus sighs, he must have heard it.

“She is,” Regulus agrees quietly. “We got along really well at work, which was a relief, because we spent a lot of time together, considering she was training me, but when she tried to actually be my friend outside of the job, well… I was a bit awful at first. I mean, not awful, I just—I kept my distance. But she could be very insistent, and she worried, so sometimes, when she didn’t seem to take the hint, I became mean.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t give up,” James comments.

Regulus’ lips twitch. “Yeah, me too. If it had been me, I would’ve sacked her out of sheer pettiness.”

James bites his tongue to stop a chuckle from coming out, hoping that his face remains carefully neutral.

“Not like she could have, not directly, considering she wasn’t a manager, but she could’ve fucked me over if she had really wanted to. But she didn’t give up on me. No matter how hard I tried to shut her out. It reached a point I had started to believe she was into me, or something.”

“And you don’t like girls,” James states, although it sort of sounds like a question. “At all.”

“No, James,” Regulus confirms softly, averting his gaze momentarily. “I don’t like girls. I’m gay, and I’ve known for a while.”

“How long?”

“I’m not sure. I think a part of me realised back in secondary school, but I spent most of my teenage years ignoring and repressing that part of me, so who knows. I accepted it a bit after I started uni.”

“Did you drop out?” James asks, unable to contain himself. “You mentioned that you never finished your degree, so I—”

“No, but I ended up coming out to my parents and they disinherited me shortly after. I couldn’t pay for tuition on my own.”

“Oh,” James mumbles, heart giving a painful flip. “I’m sorry.”

Regulus makes a vague move with his wrist. “It’s fine. It was a long time ago. There’s no point in crying about it.”

“Would you like to go back at some point? If you could, I mean,” James wonders, keeping his voice gentle. He’s noticed that the other man isn’t very comfortable talking about this specific topic, but James can’t help but be curious about him, always wanting to know more.

Regulus squirms, lowering his head and settling his eyes on his lap, where his fingers continue to twist and pull.

“Perhaps. But I don’t think so,” he replies in what’s nearly a whisper. Before James has the chance to open his mouth again, Regulus is already lifting his head while he clears his throat, his expression wiped clean. “Anyways, Dorcas and I had this little argument at some point, in which I basically implied I was not interested in her like that, and she got super offended and let me know that she wasn’t interested either because she was a raging lesbian. Even told me that she wouldn’t have been even if she had been into men.”

“Ouch,” James says sympathetically, but he’s failing to repress a smile, and Regulus’ own mouth seems to be fighting to curl upwards, even as he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry, it didn’t bother me. It was more of a relief than anything else.” Regulus’ eyes soften around the edges. “I can’t remember how the rest of that conversation went, but I do remember that I laughed more than I had in a while. We became inseparable after that.”

“That’s sweet,” James says with a little nod.

“Yeah,” Regulus agrees, but the light in his gaze dims slightly. “She was also the one who got me into Temptation Island.”

James shifts in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his current position. In the process, he ends up moving away from the other man, and although it isn’t a conscious decision, James doesn’t attempt to shorten the distance afterwards. Regulus notices, because of course he does, and the next time he inhales, he does so a little sharply, the grey in his eyes becoming as hard and as cold as steel.

“Was it her idea?” James questions, even though he doesn’t think the response will make much of a difference.

Regulus nods, biting the inside of his cheek. “It took her weeks to convince me. We’ve been following the show for literal years, and don’t get me wrong, we both kinda hate it, but it’s also so—so addicting. And I guess it’s easier to enjoy when only straight people seem to participate, and you’re not… well, straight.”

James grits his teeth a little, but he doesn’t say anything, contenting himself with giving the other man a vague tilt of his head while he waits for Regulus to continue.

“She kept going on about how it’d be like a holiday, and that we were gonna get paid for it anyway, so it was gonna be worth it regardless of how much or how little we enjoyed ourselves.” Regulus shrugs with one shoulder. “I guess she wore me out. Or maybe the money was too tempting to reject. I work in the hospitality industry, you see, so it’d be dumb to refuse that kind of amount.

“I never expected us to get chosen. I agreed and indulged Dorcas whenever we hung out and she insisted on posting couple pictures. But none of us were any sort of influencers, or had a big following, so I thought—I was so sure that it wasn’t gonna happen.”

“I get that,” James sighs, running a hand through his hair. “When Lily convinced me to apply, I assumed the chances of us getting picked were too low to even consider it.”

“And then you got the call,” Regulus mutters.

“And then I got the call.”

“Yeah, it was the same for us. Dorcas was so fucking excited, but I was so—I was terrified, James. I didn’t know if we were gonna be able to pull it off, if I was gonna be able to handle all those cameras on me. I used to be desensitised to that kind of attention, because of my family and the kind of life I led. I even loved it for a bit, too, maybe as a secondary effect of living in Sirius’ shadow half my life, I don’t know, but now—I’d rather not get noticed, if I can help it.”

James frowns. “Why didn’t you pull out, then? There was still time, you hadn’t even signed the contracts yet—”

“I couldn’t do that to Dorcas,” Regulus admits, the smile that pulls at his lips filled with sorrow. “I had said yes already, and she was so happy to go on her little holiday, I—I couldn’t ruin it. She’s done so much for me… And it was just for a bit over a month, anyway.”

“I’m sure she would’ve understood, especially if she had known how scared and uncomfortable you were.”

“I know. She’s sweet like that. But I didn’t—I wanted to make her happy, for once. Indulge on one of her whims, mad=ke sure she got to experience this. And the money was also an incentive, I won’t lie.”

James snorts, and even though it’s kind of against his will, he doesn’t regret it, if only because of the pleased glint it puts on Regulus’ eyes.

“The plan was to keep my distance and not get attached,” Regulus goes on, exhaling loudly through his nose. “Treat it like some sort of solo vacation, ignore the cameras and the other guys as much as possible and try to enjoy myself. But I didn’t… I didn’t expect you.”

He swallows thickly, heartbeat accelerating in his chest as he meets Regulus’ gaze.

“What we had—none of it was planned, I swear,” Regulus murmurs, leaning forward slightly, his eyes wide and earnest. “You were—” he pauses, some colour rushing to his cheeks as he blinks. “I was attracted to you from the beginning, but I wasn’t planning on doing anything about it, obviously. You were straight and had a girlfriend and were very clearly smitten with her.”

“Is that why you were so rude to me at first?” James arches an eyebrow, trying to catch Regulus’ gaze, despite the other man being so set on looking at anything but James’ face.

“I didn’t mean to,” he mumbles, getting even more flustered. “You just made me kinda nervous.”

“Kinda?”

“Shut up.” Regulus kicks his foot weakly, and James has to swallow down a laugh. “And the worst part was that you weren’t only fit, but you were also kind, and funny, and patient, even though I was such a bitch to you—”

“Oh, Reg, flattery will get you everywhere,” James teases, and the other man rolls his eyes, but the gesture is fond. Affectionate, even.

“The point is,” Regulus continues a bit pointedly, “that I ended up appreciating your friendship regardless of my attraction to you. My idea was to push you away, but you were really stubborn, and I don’t have that much self-restraint. And then I thought that being friends didn’t sound too bad. I assumed we were never gonna see each other again after the show was done, what was the harm, right?”

“That was real, then?” James asks, trying his best to keep his tone neutral, indifferent. Pretending he can’t feel the lump in his throat.

Regulus reaches out, his hand getting dangerously close to James’ knee, but he catches himself at the last second and pulls away before he manages to make contact. James knows he shouldn’t, but he’s disappointed nonetheless.

“Of course it was real,” Regulus assures him tenderly, and no matter how much he searches, James can’t find the lie. “All of it was real, James. I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you as soon as I could but don’t—please, don’t doubt my feelings. I meant everything I said to you during the show. Everything I did.”

James breathes in a little shakily and attempts a smile that feels a bit too weak to be truly convincing. “I want to believe you, Reg. And I think I do, for the most part. But—” James pauses, swallowing thickly, his mouth dry. “You don’t understand how it felt. I threw away my morals and risked the life I had been building with Lily just to be with you, because I lo—like you so much, just to find out that you had been lying. That you were just having some fun, that I was the only cheater—”

“Please, don’t say that,” Regulus begs him lowly, brow furrowed. “I didn’t—I never wanted to ruin your life, James. Even if I had realised that you were interested a lot earlier, I still wouldn’t have acted on my feelings because I knew it wasn’t fair. You were in an actual relationship, and even if it had been something a lot more casual, I knew the guilt was bound to eat away at you. That’s why I kicked you out the night you kissed me. I didn’t—I couldn’t do that to you.”

James gulps, realisation dawning on him. He had assumed that all those times Regulus had pushed him away or ignored him were due to fear, or maybe remorse about cheating on Dorcas, but it had all been for James. Because of James. There had been guilt, just for reasons completely unknown for him back then. Regulus had been trying to protect him, to stop him from making a mistake.

He doesn’t know how he feels about it. Part of James finds it really sweet, and it shows that Regulus cares, that he’s always cared, to the point he had kept denying himself, even after James had told him that his feelings were reciprocated. Regulus had been trying to look out for him, considering he couldn’t admit to the truth while they were in the show. James understands and accepts that much.

But his trust has been broken, nonetheless. Regulus continued to lie afterwards, despite having several chances to come clean about the whole thing. They had spent hours discussing their possible relationship on the plane back to London, and Regulus hadn’t mentioned it a single time.

“You haven’t ruined my life, Reg,” James forces out, fingers curling around his thighs and nails digging into them painfully, holding onto dear life. “I know what I said last time but—I didn’t mean it. I was just… very hurt. All my choices were mine, and you’re not to blame for them.”

“But you didn’t know the whole story. Maybe you wouldn’t have—” Regulus cuts himself off with a soft shake of his head.

“I would have,” James admits, a bit harder than intended. “I would have anyway.”

Regulus blinks, his eyes suspiciously bright. “Yeah?” he questions hoarsely.

“Yeah,” James breathes out. “You still lied to me. And I’m not talking about the show, I’m talking about after.”

The other man turns away, ducking his head in shame and distractedly tucking a curl behind his ear. James follows the movement, aching to touch, aching to do it himself.

“Would you believe me if I told you I completely forgot about it?”

“Regulus—”

“Because it’s true. I know it’s a pathetic excuse, but I had never thought you’d choose me in the end. I hadn’t planned to tell you at all because I assumed I wasn’t gonna get to keep you, so what was the point, really?”

“Regulus—” James tries again, desperate for the other man to look at him, to stop looking like he’s on the verge of tears.

“But then you did, James. You chose me and I—I didn’t know what to do with myself. Fuck, I could barely believe it.” Regulus laughs, but it’s a fragile, incredulous sound. It nearly breaks James’ heart in half. “Suddenly we were on the plane, and you were talking about the future, about being with me for real, and I—shit, Dorcas and our whole fake relationship was the last thing on my mind.”

“Reg, that’s—”

“And then you ghosted me.”

James flinches like Regulus has just slapped him, and honestly, he might as well have. He’s been focusing on his anger, on all the pain Regulus’ accidental revelation brought him, but the truth is that James is still feeling horrible for doing that to Regulus. Especially now that he knows how things played out between him and Sirius, how abandoned Regulus must’ve felt. He doesn’t blame Sirius at all, and James thinks he made the right decision, but that doesn’t erase Regulus’ feelings on the matter. He had just been a kid.

He won’t pretend to understand what it was like, because he can’t even imagine it, but he’s aware his actions probably caused even more hurt considering what Regulus has gone through.

“I’m not trying to compare our mistakes, or—or guilt-trip you,” Regulus hurries to clarify. “But it hurt me, James. A lot.”

“I know that—”

“And I chose to overlook it, because I really fucking missed you, James, and I was so happy to have you back. But it doesn’t mean—” Regulus stops and swallows, before he takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if I’ve forgiven you yet.”

James presses his lips tight. “I don’t know if I’ve forgiven you yet, either.”

“That’s fair,” Regulus says with a tiny smile, the gesture not reaching his eyes. “I would never expect you to. But I need you to know that just like I broke your trust, you also broke mine.”

James’ hands clench and unclench, clench and unclench. A small part of him craves to get angry, to yell at Regulus and tell him that he can’t compare the situations, that lying is a lot worse and that James’ reasons were better. Easier to understand. But he’s so tired, and so upset, and deep down, he knows that Regulus has a point. That what he did to him was different, but not necessarily more easily forgiven or simpler to put behind them.

Regulus had merely been more willing to hear James out. To give them a try regardless. But James shouldn’t have assumed that it meant he was okay with it, or that he had gotten over it.

He had been so focused on himself, on his own pain and the betrayal he had felt, he had completely disregarded Regulus’ emotions. Not only about the whole lying situation, but also the ghosting thing, the fact that they hadn’t even been able to discuss it properly or try to deal with it before James had stormed out and cut all contact.

It’s not like he feels bad about his reaction, exactly, because James had been fucking devastated, and after everything that’s happened in the past few months, he just couldn’t deal with something like that. Especially not from Regulus.

But it still feels like a punch to the gut, that he had been so selfish without thinking, that he had believed that he was the only one who had been affected, the only one who was allowed to be upset.

“I’m so sorry,” James whispers, unsure of what else to say.

Regulus’ lower lip trembles as he nods. “I’m sorry, too. I truly am, James. I didn’t—I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Me neither,” he retorts, eyes beginning to feel a little damp. “That’s the last thing I wanted. But I don’t—I don’t know where to go from here.”

“Do you—” Regulus starts, his voice cracking at the end. “Do you still want this? With me?”

“Yes,” James replies, without missing a beat and surprising even himself. He hadn’t dared to ask himself that specific question, because despite how much he had been missing Regulus, and dying to contact him again, he hadn’t been sure if he could genuinely stay with Regulus after everything. Turns out, though, that the answer has always been clear. “I really do.”

Regulus exhales in relief, and when he blinks, there’s a tear rolling down his cheek, and James is moving before he can think better of it, wiping Regulus’ face with gentle fingers. The other man shuts his eyes at the touch, and despite the shiver that wracks his whole frame, he still leans into the contact, rubbing his cheek against James’ palm.

“Thank god,” Regulus breathes out. “Fuck, I’ve been so scared, James—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again helplessly, devastated when more tears fall from Regulus’ lovely eyes.

The other man shakes his head, chuckling weakly. “I know, James. And I wanna forgive you so bad—”

“But it’s gonna take time,” James finishes for him, cradling his face delicately.

“Yeah. I don’t mind, though. I’m willing—I’m willing to wait.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You’re—you’re worth it, James.” Regulus slides closer, until their knees are pressed together, and their faces are near enough that they would only have to lean forward a bit for their noses to graze one another. “I’m not good with words, I’m sure you’ve already noticed, but—you’re very important to me, and I don’t ever want you to forget that. I know I fucked up, and that I can be a bit of a cunt sometimes, and that I’m selfish and a coward. Like, even when I was trying to get you back, the most I dared to do was call you and spam you with pictures, and then posting stories on Instagram, hoping that you’d stalk me and see them because I’m fucking obsessed with you. But I never—I wouldn’t have come up with something as drastic as showing up at your doorstep if it hadn’t been because of my brother. And even then it took me days to muster up the courage, and I had to practise what I was gonna say in front of the mirror like a fucking loser—”

“I’m in love with you,” James spills, the confession falling from his lips with ease, as simple as breathing. His chest feels lighter after the words are out, for Regulus to take in and process and hopefully accept.

James feels like he should be more scared of saying this considering the mess they’re currently in and the fact it’s only been about three months, but it feels right. And besides, his feelings aren’t going to change any time soon, so why wait?

Regulus’ mouth closes with a clack before it falls open once more, a few more tears sliding down his face as he blinks frantically, too fast for James to catch them all—although he does try. He’s gaping at him, his whole face a violent shade of red, and James is overcome with the need to kiss him.

He’s been wanting to kiss him since he saw him standing at the door, but it’s starting to become overwhelming.

“What,” Regulus wheezes out, and it doesn’t even sound as a question. It barely resembles a word, really, and James has to bite his tongue to keep a chuckle from escaping.

“I’m in love with you,” James repeats, slower this time and enunciating every word. If anything, Regulus looks even more appalled.

“But you are—and we haven’t—there’s not—” Regulus stutters, tripping over his sentences and falling before he has the chance to finish any of them. He ends shaking his head, his hands coming up to cover James’, which are still on his cheeks. “Why?” is what he settles on eventually, and fuck, James is so ridiculously endeared by him.

“Dunno,” he tells Regulus, because it’s way too soon to actually explain all the reasons why he’s fallen for him, and the timing isn’t right, and he fears that the other man might collapse if James pushes him any further. He can tell that Regulus struggles when it comes to expressing his emotions. “I just am.”

“Well, that’s—” Regulus says, pausing to clear his throat, his voice no more than a croak. “That’s very stupid of you.”

James shrugs, grinning at the other man. “I disagree. In fact, I think it’s the most brilliant thing I’ve done in a while.”

He doesn’t think that Regulus can turn any redder at this point, but he seems set on proving James’ wrong, the blush covering the entirety of his neck and continuing under the collar of his sweater.

“I’m—” Regulus murmurs, before he shuts his mouth and averts his gaze. He even attempts to turn his head away, but James won’t let him, holding firmly onto it, eyes roaming all over Regulus’ flushed face. “I’m also—well, you know.”

“Do I?” James questions, arching an eyebrow while his lips twitch helplessly.

Regulus huffs, allowing their eyes to meet just so he can glare at James. It’s the opposite of intimidating, considering how much he’s blushing and the fact that his cheeks are still wet with tears, but James commends his dedication regardless.

“Don’t be a prick,” he scoffs, and James laughs delightedly. “I’m trying to tell you that I feel the same way, asshole.”

James’ expression softens considerably, heart skipping at least two beats inside his chest.

“You do?” James asks quietly, nearly in a whisper, afraid of ruining the moment.

“Of course I do,” Regulus grumbles, squeezing James’ hands. “I might not be able to say so easily but I—I feel it. I feel it all, James.”

“Fuck,” he mutters. If Regulus doesn’t stop being this sweet James will join him in his crying any moment now. “Reg, can I… Can I kiss you?”

Regulus blinks, and suddenly his eyes are full of stars. He nods. “You always can.”

James smiles, and then he’s leaning forward, taking a moment to nuzzle their noses together, enamoured with the way Regulus scrunches his, before he presses their mouths together.

It’s something delicate but still genuine, filled with emotion. More than a peck, but James doesn’t try to deepen it, moving his lips slowly against Regulus’, not feeling any rush now that he’s sure they have all the time in the world.

They fit so perfectly James can’t believe it sometimes. Regulus matches his rhythm and intensity like it’s second nature, his hands sliding down until they’re gripping onto James’ wrists for dear life, humming contentedly against James’ eager mouth and allowing him to taste every little noise, swallow them all down.

The kiss seems to last forever, and yet, when they pull away, James can’t help but chase Regulus’ lips, already hungry for more.

Regulus giggles before he indulges him one more time, letting their lips meet in a short peck before he moves back.

“What now?” he questions in a murmur, mouth still curled upwards, like he can’t help himself.

“Now we try again,” James says with a lazy shrug, before he steals another kiss from Regulus. The other man rolls his eyes as soon as James pulls away, but his grin has widened. “We do better. We give each other time and stay together.”

This time, it’s Regulus who kisses him, and he lingers there, on James’ mouth, as if there’s no other place he’d rather be.

The smile he gives James when they pull back is blinding, and even though James is aware that not everything is fixed just yet, that it won’t be for a while, he has faith in them both. James believes they can make it work, if only out of sheer spite, if only out of sheer love. There’s no way he’s going to let go of Regulus ever again.

“I like the sound of that.”

***

James truly thinks that this is the most uncomfortable dinner he’s ever been to, and considering how big his family is, and how good his relatives are at holding grudges, that’s saying a lot.

The worst part is that this is all his fault. It was his idea, and he was also the one who convinced every single person who’s currently sitting at the table to attend. He might be regretting it a little right now.

Maybe he should’ve listened to Remus when he’d suggested that going to a restaurant, where there were other people and they had to follow a specific set of rules, was the safer option. Especially when a fight breaking out is very much a possibility.

Well, lesson learned, James supposes. If he manages to come out of this unscathed, he’ll apologise to Remus profusely and promise to do the dishes when it’s his turn for a month.

“James, can you pass me the salt?” Regulus asks, and despite how softly he gazes at James, his tone is tight, and his shoulders remain as stiff as they’ve been since he walked through the door.

“Of course, Reg—” he agrees immediately, already reaching for it.

He doesn’t make it too far, however, Sirius’ hand taking a hold of his wrist and stopping him before he can get too close.

James blinks at him one, two, three times, and then proceeds to send a pleading look in his direction that, of course, Sirius completely ignores. Remus sighs quietly, not even bothering to glance away from his meal. James envies him so much right now.

“What do you need salt for?” Sirius huffs out, squinting his eyes at his brother. “Are you trying to imply that my food tastes bland?”

Regulus stares at him for a few seconds before he lets out a loud scoff. “I never said that.”

“But you’re clearly thinking it. You’ve had two bites at most, and you’re already asking for the salt.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I just like my meals a bit saltier, that’s all—”

“Bullshit,” Sirius snorts derisively, and Regulus scowls. “You’ve always had such a delicate palate. Kreacher could never get too adventurous with the spices in case it’d upset your stomach.”

“Not true!” Regulus protests. “I only got sick one time! And it was your fault, anyway.”

“How was it my fault?” Sirius demanded, finally letting go of James just so he can cross his arms over his chest.

“Oh, don’t you dare try to play dumb.” Regulus shakes his head in disbelief. “You were suspiciously nice to me those two days I spent in the hospital. I know it was you.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about—”

“I thought I was dying! And all because you thought it’d be funny to pour half a bottle of cayenne pepper in the casserole when Kreacher wasn’t looking!”

“Come on, Reggie, that was ages ago. And don’t be so dramatic, it was just a little stomach ache—”

“I was throwing up blood!”

“That was only twice at most!” Sirius exclaims, rolling his eyes so hard his head tilts back. “Besides, everyone else was fine. It’s not my fault you have such a fragile constitution.”

“No one could take more than a bite or two, the meal was barely edible—” Regulus retorts in a hiss.

“And yet you were the only one who ended up in the hospital.”

“Yeah, because of you and your stupid prank!”

“Honestly, Reggie, you need to learn how to let things go. You’re too stuck in the past—”

“Oh, that’s real fucking bold coming from you—”

“Can we not do this again?” James intervenes as gently as possible. When both brothers turn to glare at him, he even manages to keep his body from flinching. Although, it might be because this is the eighth time at least that he’s had to interrupt an argument between them. “Please.”

Regulus is the first one to give in, even though it’s with a little pout curving his lips. He exhales through his nose and looks away, and James thinks it’s absolutely adorable. Regulus has been trying so hard in his own way to keep things civilised because he knows how important this is to James. Not to mention, James has also compromised, assuring him that he wouldn’t get himself involved when it comes to the brothers’ personal business, and he won’t force them to get along, no matter how much he’d love to see them reconnect. Some relationships just can’t be fixed, and it’s not James’ call in this case.

He has asked them both to behave in each other’s presence, however, because he thinks it’s the bare minimum, and besides, they’re going to be spending time with each other whether they like it or not. And James wants his boyfriend and his best mate to not be at each other’s throats, okay, sue him.

“Sirius started it,” Regulus grumbles under his breath, and if they were in different company, James would kiss him silly.

It still hits him sometimes, even though it’s been a couple of weeks already. The fact that he can kiss Regulus whenever he feels like it.

“You’re the one who asked for the salt!” Sirius complains, throwing his arms up in the air. James chances a glance at Remus, hoping to get some help, but his friend is eating calmly, pretending he doesn’t notice James’ pleading eyes.

Honestly, Remus can be so fucking useless. He had declared from the very beginning that he wouldn’t be getting involved in any Black brothers-related matters unless the situation demanded it, which James understands and respects. Intrusions tend to make things worse, anyway.

But he could definitely do with some support. No one can calm Sirius down like Remus can, and James doesn’t doubt that his intervention could’ve avoided at least half of the fights that have happened today so far.

“I didn’t know it wasn’t allowed!” Regulus counters through gritted teeth.

“Well, you should! This is my house, and you ought to be fucking grateful to be invited here and be able to eat my food—” Sirius snarks back, baring his teeth.

“It’s also James’ house!” Regulus retorts with a huff, and James nearly groans out loud.

“Says who? Remus and I have been kind enough to let him stay, but it doesn’t mean that this is his flat now.”

“You’re such a piece of shit, that’s your best mate you’re talking about—”

“I’m just stating the facts! I just don’t want you thinking that you can do whatever the fuck you want around here simply because James is temporarily staying with us and you’re fucking him—”

“Dating,” Regulus corrects his brother sharply, making James’ heart skip a beat. “I’m dating him, Sirius.”

“Same difference, really,” Sirius mumbles, shrugging with one shoulder.

“No, it’s not! You just refuse to acknowledge that this is genuine and I’m here to stay—”

“Please, we all know James will get tired of you eventually—”

“No, I won’t,” James interrupts him while he reaches for his fork. It looks like this is going to take a bit, and he doesn’t want his food to go cold. “We’ve been through this.”

Siris bats his lashes at him all innocently, and James gives him a flat stare as he takes a bite of his meal. “I’m just looking out for you, babe. I love you so much, and I think you deserve so much better—”

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend,” Regulus snaps, slamming the palm of his hand against the table, a faint red covering his cheeks. James watches him with nothing short of adoration, and honestly, if Regulus keeps this up James will snog him, their audience be damned.

Sirius smirks at his brother lazily, leaning back against his chair. “Why should I? He likes me best.”

“No, he does not,” Regulus snarls, and then he’s turning around in his seat, his lovely eyes settling on James. They soften almost immediately. “You don’t, right, baby? Because you like me best?”

James’ breath hitches and he nods furiously a moment later. “Of course,” he murmurs, leaning a little forward before he remembers where he is and catches himself.

“Not fair,” Sirius whines, throwing a piece of bread at James that hits him right on the cheek. It’s still not enough to completely pull him out of his Regulus-induced daze. “That’s playing dirty—”

“It’s not,” Regulus responds easily before he tilts his head forward and drops a kiss on the corner of James’ mouth. Sirius scoffs loudly. “I merely asked James. It’s not my fault that you can’t deal with the truth.”

Regulus is never this affectionate in front of people unless he’s drunk or horny, and James is aware that part of it is just trying to annoy his brother as much as possible. But he’s definitely not complaining, his whole face splitting into a grin that’s quickly reciprocated by Regulus.

“The truth is that you have him dickmatized,” Sirius snorts, and Regulus makes an affronted noise at the back of his throat. James wishes he could argue, but his best friend isn’t wrong. Not completely, at least. “He used to take my side all the time, no questions asked, until you came along.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy,” Regulus retorts with a sniff. “Leave my boyfriend alone, you already have your own.”

“Me and James don’t care about healthy. Our bond transcends everything. We’re basically soulmates, Reggie—”

“Oh my fucking god, you’re deranged.” Regulus shakes his head at Sirius, disbelieving, before his eyes settle on Remus, who’s nearly done with his meal at this point. “I don’t know how you deal with this, Lupin. Are you sure it’s you he wants, and not James?”

Sirius gasps, one of his arms immediately wrapping itself around the back of Remus’ chair, as if he’s staking a claim, or protecting what’s his. Remus, however, seems completely unbothered. He even takes his time to acknowledge Regulus’ words, chewing slowly and then swallowing, before he lifts his head and allows their gazes to meet, his expression deadpan.

“Very sure,” he says drily, arching an eyebrow. “They’ve always been like this. You’re gonna have to get used to it if you wanna date James.”

Regulus frowns, and then he’s turning his head, squinting his eyes at James, who barely has an appetite at this point.

Oh, he’ll definitely listen to Remus next time. He’s so stressed he’s beginning to feel a little dizzy.

“Why do you and my brother have to be so codependent?” Regulus complains, and James thinks that if he checked under the table, he’d find him stomping his foot. “He should be obsessed with his boyfriend, not mine.”

“Believe me, baby, he’s ridiculously obsessed with Remus too,” James reassures him with half a smile. Regulus’ frown remains, though. “Me and Sirius just—we’ve been through a lot together. Even my parents adore him—”

“Yeah, Reggie, they call me their son and shit,” Sirius cuts in with a smug grin. “You simply can’t compete with that.”

Remus glances at his boyfriend, and then at Regulus’ flushed face, before he finally focuses on James, the corners of his mouth curling upwards and brown eyes shining with mirth. “Didn’t know this was a competition.”

“It’s not—” James hisses, a warning in his gaze.

“Good, because it wouldn’t be fair otherwise,” Remus murmurs with a little nod. “I mean, Sirius already has your parents’ approval.”

“Unlike others,” Sirius singsongs, fingers caressing the back of Remus’ neck absentmindedly.

“Whose side are you on?” James asks Remus, offended and betrayed.

Remus snorts. “My boyfriend’s, obviously.”

“Mind your fucking business, Lupin,” Regulus snarls, and Remus’ eyes narrow slightly as they focus on him, but his smile widens.

“Don’t fucking talk to Remus like that—” Sirius jumps in without missing a beat, all mischief gone from his face.

“I wouldn’t if he hadn’t decided to open his mouth! This doesn’t concern him—”

“According to who?”

“Me! He barely says a word to me when I come over—”

“Why should he? You’re an annoying and spoiled little brat—”

“I’m your brother!” Regulus exclaims, both his hands slamming against the table. James jumps a little in his seat, considering if perhaps he should intervene.

“Only when it suits you,” Sirius remarks petulantly.

“It never fucking suits me,” Regulus scoffs, dragging a roll of eyes out of Sirius. “If Lupin was a good boyfriend, he’d be polite to me and try his best to get my approval—”

“He doesn’t need it!”

“It’d still be nice, considering I’m your only family—”

“You literally came back into my life about two months ago, and it was against my will anyway—”

“All I’m hearing are excuses.” Regulus lifts his chin up defiantly, and Sirius gapes at his brother incredulously.

“They’re not excuses. I don’t need them, because I don’t care if you like Remus or not—”

“Well, you like my boyfriend. Love him, even.”

“That’s different! He’s literally my best friend!”

“Exactly. To me it sounds like maybe you should get a better taste in partners.”

“Fuck off! My taste is impeccable! Remus is smart, and kind, and bloody perfect—”

“He’s also ugly,” Regulus comments, his tone bored but his eyes glinting.

Sirius gets up so fast his chair scratches loudly against the floor before it falls with a thud. He bares his teeth at his brother, who’s looking at him flatly. “At least my boyfriend isn’t a fucking cheater.”

Someone gasps, and it takes James a second to realise it was him. Regulus is standing up a second later, with thunderous eyes and a pinched mouth. James blinks fast, his whole body going tense as his gaze jumps from one brother to the other. He came here today prepared to defuse an argument, not get involved in a physical fight.

He’s pretty sure he could take Regulus, but he’d struggle a lot more with Sirius. And if both of them decided to join forces against James, well… He might not make it out.

As a last resort, James gives Remus his best kicked puppy look, unsurprised to find his friend chewing lazily while he watches the scene in front of him, mildly entertained. Fortunately, Remus chooses to be merciful just this time, sighing softly when their gazes meet. Still, and for good measure, James even pouts a little, allowing his bottom lip to tremble just the slightest bit. Remus rolls his eyes, of course, but James can tell that he’s about to give in.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Remus mutters, a little furrow appearing between his eyebrows. Neither Sirius or Regulus seem to pay him any mind, but they remain motionless, just glaring at each other fiercely. James isn’t very comfortable with how close one of Sirius’ hands is to a knife, though. “Sirius, sit down.”

A muscle spasms on the side of Sirius’ jaw, but he doesn’t move. In fact, and if it weren’t for that tiny reaction, no one would be able to tell that he had listened to Remus at all.

“Sirius,” Remus repeats, firmer, tone not leaving any room for argument. “Sit down.”

This time, Sirius does. He huffs and crosses his arms and grits his teeth in the process, but he sits back down on the chair, his eyes never leaving Regulus, who’s now towering over him, still on his feet.

Remus focuses on James next, his expression back to looking bored. “Mate, why don’t you and Regulus go get some air? Maybe have a smoke. You can cool off and then come back to finish lunch. I’ll make sure to reheat your plates.”

James is already nodding before Remus has finished speaking. He stands a moment later, offering his friend a grateful smile before he moves closer to Regulus, gently wrapping an arm around his waist and beginning to drag him away from the table and towards the door.

“You don’t even smoke,” he protests to James, even though he isn’t resisting.

“But you do,” James responds easily. “Especially after spending time with your brother.”

“God knows why,” Sirius grumbles from behind them. “He might be stressed because of me, but I’m downright homicidal.”

Regulus attempts to turn around, probably to give Sirius a piece of his mind, his whole face twisting into a sneer. But James tightens the hold he has on him and doesn’t allow him to squirm too much, forcing him out of the living room before another fight breaks out.

By the time they make it outside, James realises that he’s profusely sweating. If he’s being honest, it doesn’t even come as a shock. He doesn’t regret being with Regulus, or his friendship with Sirius, but fuck do they both love to make things unnecessarily hard.

Regulus has two cigarettes, and he smokes them both with a scowl in his face, even with his back against James’ chest and his head resting on his shoulder.

James isn’t a big fan of the smell of tobacco and all the smoke, but he endures it because he knows Regulus needs this. That, and because he’d rather die than reject a chance to cuddle with his boyfriend.

When they finally go back up, Regulus has calmed down considerably, and Sirius and Remus are chatting softly at the table, the former halfway done with his meal while the latter is already finished. They don’t seem bothered when James and Regulus join them, and Sirius even gives them both a little nod before he returns to his conversation with Remus. As promised, James and Regulus’ food is warm once again, and it doesn’t escape his notice that Regulus doesn’t even attempt to reach for the salt this time.

After lunch is over, they move to the living room, deciding to watch a show that Sirius and Remus have been rewatching but that Regulus hasn’t even heard of. James knows some of it, since he catches bits and pieces when Remus and Sirius watch it, but he’s still very lost when it comes to the plot, so he agrees to have it on.

It ends up becoming more background noise than anything else, all of them talking animatedly and sharing some stories. Sirius and Regulus continue to argue over the silliest things, but it doesn’t escalate again, which James is eternally thankful for.

At some point, Remus ends up falling asleep against Sirius’ shoulder, who doesn’t even blink but does start being more careful about moving or gesticulating when he speaks. Regulus follows suit not shortly after, even though he complains about Remus’ behaviour being impolite.

James makes sure to tuck him into the side of his body, wrapping both arms around him with a soft smile curving his lips. He had been expecting this to happen. Regulus hasn’t had a nice rota this week, his sleeping schedule even more fucked up than usual for it.

He focuses on the story Sirius is telling him once he’s made sure that Regulus is in a comfortable position, not wanting his boyfriend to wake up sore from his little nap. And as both he and Sirius lower their voices, teasing each other under their breaths when their limbs begin to cramp up from the lack of movement, James thinks that he could get used to this life.

***

The first thing that greets him when he pushes the door of the restaurant open is the smile of Regulus’ favourite manager, Ada, who also raises her hand to wave amicably at him. Apparently, she’s in charge of hosting today, but she doesn’t even bother to check if James has a reservation; she already knows why he’s here. James doesn’t have to ask, either, because Ada is already nodding her head towards the bar, and he grins gratefully at her, heading over there without a second thought.

It’s not too busy today, fortunately. It’s both a Monday and after 5PM, so James isn’t surprised to find his boyfriend chatting with a coworker behind the bar, no clients in sight, apart from a small group of highschoolers and a father with his son.

James lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree the moment he sets his eyes on Regulus, but his joy disappears almost immediately when he realises the guy talking to him is none other than Gavin.

He knows he’s being irrational, and possessive, and a bit of an idiot. He’s just a coworker, and Regulus isn’t even that close to him, not like he is with Jen or Neil. But James spent weeks burning with jealousy when he was just a stranger in Regulus’ posts, and besides, his boyfriend might not see it, but James is quite sure that Gavin has a thing for Regulus. There’s something about the way he looks at him, how wide he smiles, how he keeps finding excuses to touch him. Also, the fact that he calls Regulus ‘love’ all the damn time. James is aware that Gavin uses the term of endearment with the rest of his coworkers, too, but he still doesn’t like it. He should be the only one allowed to use pet names for Regulus. He’s James’ boyfriend, after all.

James only falters for a second, clenching his jaw slightly before he forces his expression to relax, mouth curving upwards in a casual smile. He resumes his pace right after, walking towards the bar determinedly. Regulus seems so invested in the chat he’s having with stupid Gavin that he doesn’t notice James until he’s literally in front of him, elbows leaning on the counter. But all of James’ irritation vanishes as soon as his boyfriend beams at him, forgetting all about what Gavin is telling him and turning around to face him.

“Hi, baby,” James greets him sweetly, leaning forward a little bit. Regulus also moves closer, like a moth to a flame.

“Hi,” he answers with a dreamy sigh. “You’re here early. I didn’t expect you until—”

James doesn’t let him finish, capturing Regulus’ lips in a kiss that’s probably this side of too dirty, especially considering where they are and that Regulus is still on the clock. He just can’t help himself, knowing that Gavin is right there, watching, being reminded that Regulus is very much taken.

He makes sure to slip his tongue past Regulus’ lips, exploring the inside of his mouth and swallowing the choked off noise his boyfriend lets out. James even raises a hand, wrapping it loosely around the other man’s neck, humming contentedly when Regulus leans imperceptibly against the contact.

“Reg, you get off in twenty minutes, I think snogging your boy toy can wait until then!” Jen exclaims from somewhere behind them, but James doesn’t pay her any mind.

Unfortunately, Regulus steps back a moment later, covering his mouth with the back of his hand and a furious red on his cheeks. He clears his throat, and then he glances at James for a second, eyes bright and dark, pupils the slightest bit dilated. James is quite pleased by his reaction, even though he wishes they hadn’t been interrupted in the first place.

They’ve been together for months, and yet kissing Regulus doesn’t seem to get old. It still feels like the first time. New, desperate, all-consuming. James is sure he’ll never get tired of it.

“Piss off!” Regulus yells back at Jen once he regains his wits, giving her the finger. James tilts his head back and finds her standing a few metres away, carrying a tray with empty glasses. He gives her a nod that she reciprocates with a little smirk. “You’re just jealous.”

“More like disgusted.” She rolls her eyes. “No one wants to watch that shit. We’ve already seen more than enough, believe me.”

James snorts, shaking his head softly at the same time that Regulus scoffs. Neither of them is bothered by those sorts of comments, or the dozens of references to Temptations Island both their friends and strangers make on the regular. They’re used to it by now, and James likes to think that they’ve healed from it. At least, as much as they can.

“Those jokes are getting boring,” Regulus retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Just like you two shoving your tongues down each other’s throats, then,” Jen says drily, but there’s a mischievous light in her gaze. She begins to make her way towards, presumably, back of house, not even looking at them anymore. “Quit it, will you? You’re traumatising poor Gavin.”

James isn’t happy to be reminded of the other man’s existence, but when he chances a glance at the blonde, he’s satisfied to find him smiling forcibly, the gesture not reaching his eyes. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and it’s hard to tell under this lighting, but James swears that he’s a bit pink in the face.

He also doesn’t dare look at James.

“Shit, sorry, Gav,” Regulus murmurs, brow furrowing. “I didn’t mean to get distracted.”

“It’s fine—” Gavin rushes to reassure him, shaking both hands in front of him.

“No, it’s not. What were you saying? About your sister, and—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gavin cuts him off, and his tone is a little tight. His eyes slide towards James momentarily, but they don’t manage to settle, focusing on Regulus once again when James arches an eyebrow at him. “Your—James is here, and I’m sure you’d rather talk to him. I’ll go see if Neil needs any help.”

“But—” Regulus protests half-heartedly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“I’m off tomorrow. Thursday?”

“Off.”

“Friday, then.”

“Friday,” Gavin confirms, already moving to the other side of the bar.

Regulus is still frowning, but his gaze doesn’t linger, and James is very smug once his boyfriend gives him all his attention.

“Weird,” Regulus mumbles almost to himself, shaking his head. “Usually can’t get him to shut up.”

“Really? Sounds annoying,” James comments, going for nonchalant and failing miserably.

Regulus raises both eyebrows at him, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Don’t be mean. I know you don’t like him—”

“What? Who says I don’t like him?”

“—you could do with being a bit nicer.” James continues to stare at Regulus in feigned confusion, blinking at him like he’s the perfect picture of innocence. His boyfriend ends up swatting him on the shoulder, but it’s a weak hit. “Don’t give me that look, James, I know you.”

James holds on for a bit longer, but he’s been with Regulus enough to be able to recognise when a battle is lost. Besides, his boyfriend gets especially stubborn when he knows he’s in the right.

“Fine,” he drawls, warmth filling up his chest at the way the corners of Regulus’ mouth tick up. “I’m not too fond of him, no,” he admits.

“And I don’t get why. He’s a good guy, and has always been very kind to me—”

“Way too kind, if you ask me,” James mutters under his breath.

Regulus blinks a couple of times, before he tilts his head forward, eyes searching all over James’ expression. He seems curious but a bit at a loss, at least at first. Then, realisation dawns on him, lips parting slightly and eyes widening in recognition.

“Wait,” he says, still watching James like he can’t believe it, like he can’t believe him. “Are you jealous?”

James doesn’t even try to turn his head away, or scoff, or attempt to deny it. There’s no point, and Regulus knows him like the back of his hand—playing daft would only end up being more embarrassing for him. That doesn’t mean his cheeks don’t heat up a little, though, his mouth curling in something too close to a pout for James’ taste.

“Maybe,” he concedes, albeit reluctantly, his voice low, despite no one being close enough to them to listen in on their conversation. “But just a little.”

Regulus laughs softly, but the sound isn’t mocking, or cruel. “And why in the world is that? Baby, you have nothing to worry about. I’m literally obsessed with you—”

“You’re not the source of my concern,” James cuts in with a huff. “I trust you. Him, however…”

“He’s just a friend, James,” Regulus assures him with a sweet grin. “He doesn’t think of me that way—”

“Bullshit,” James scoffs, and Regulus does a double take. “How can you not notice?”

“Notice what?”

“The way he looks at you.”

“I mean—”

“He stares at your mouth all the bloody time,” James complains, feeling like a child throwing a temper tantrum. Not like he cares, because he believes it’s entirely justified. “And laughs at nearly everything you say. And finds any excuse to touch you—”

“Even if all of that were true—” Regulus sighs.

“It is true,” James insists, and now he is fully pouting.

“He wouldn’t try anything,” Regulus goes on, reaching out with one hand, resting it on the side of James’ face and using his thumb to caress the skin under his eye. It grazes the rim of his glasses, but neither of them really minds.

“Of course not,” James grunts, tone harsh but whole body melting against Regulus’ touch. “He wouldn’t fucking dare.”

Regulus’ breath hitches, and James gets worried for about a second and a half before he notices the want in his boyfriend’s gaze. The pink dusting his cheeks, how his tongue comes out to wet his lips.

Oh?

“I didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Regulus murmurs distractedly, his thumb taking a detour and sliding down James’ crooked nose, the corner of his mouth, his upper lip.

“I thought I wasn’t,” James tells him absentmindedly, skin tingling wherever Regulus’ finger caresses. “When I was with Lily, I didn’t tend to get very jealous, least of all possessive. Sure, it annoyed me when someone tried to flirt with her, but… nothing too intense, you know?”

Regulus hums, nodding his head slowly. “And now?” he wonders quietly.

“Now…” James starts, shrugging lazily. “Now I have you, and I need everyone to know you’re mine. Can’t even deal with the idea of someone looking at you for too long. I’ve fantasised about punching Gavin in the face more times than I can count.”

“You’re insane,” Regulus breathes out, pupils eating away at his irises, splotches of red on his face.

“You like it,” James teases him in response, and Regulus doesn’t even try to deny it, choosing to peck him on the lips instead. James tries to keep the other man there, deepen the kiss, but Regulus is moving away before he can get a proper hold of him.

James gets it, considering his boyfriend is still at work, regardless of how empty the restaurant currently is, and the fact that there’s not a lot of his shift left. It doesn’t stop him from clicking his tongue, however.

“Such a menace,” Regulus sighs, fondness dripping from every word. “Gavin isn’t here anymore.”

“So? Can’t I just want to kiss my boyfriend?”

“Not when I’m on the clock. And don’t pretend that little display before wasn’t your way of telling him to back off.”

“Perhaps,” James concedes with a roll of his eyes. “But I always greet you with a kiss anyway—”

“Sure, but it’s like, a little peck, or a cheek kiss,” Regulus reminds him pointedly, and it earns him a little sigh.

“Fine, then, I won’t do it again—”

“I never said that.”

James blinks at him, before raising a playful eyebrow at his boyfriend, who sniffs softly before he grabs a rag and pretends to clean the already spotless bar top. He tilts his head, searching for Regulus’ eyes, even though the other man has all his focus on the surface he’s wiping. James smirks a little, and considering the way Regulus grits his teeth, he’s certain his boyfriend can feel the smugness rolling off in waves from him.

“Oh, is that right?” James comments with a shit-eating grin. “You dirty, naughty, little—”

“Speaking of,” Regulus interrupts him loudly, still refusing to meet James’ gaze. “Have you seen it? I mean, I’m assuming you have, but you haven’t mentioned anything, so I assumed—”

“Wait, seen what?” James questions, raising a hand to stop Regulus, wrinkles beginning to cover his forehead.

“Um,” Regulus responds eloquently, his wiping faltering briefly. “The pictures.”

“What pictures?”

“You know, those pictures of—of Lily.” Regulus pauses to swallow. “They’ve been going around for a couple of weeks. They’re all anyone has been talking about.”

James’ expression goes completely blank, before he slowly nods at Regulus. “Ah. Yes, of course I’ve seen them.”

He thinks he probably saw them as soon as they went online. James even remembers what he had been doing; his alarm had gone off and it had woken Regulus up, since James had stayed over at his flat the night before. His boyfriend had grumbled and even hit James hard in the back, because it had been one of his days off and it was a crime to wake up early on the days he was allowed to sleep in. James had apologised profusely, a smile on his face, and by the time he had kissed Regulus on the forehead, the other man had already been fast asleep once again.

James had also been off that day, surprisingly enough, and they both had plans to go out. But he wanted to go to the gym first, and he had known that once Regulus was fully awake, he wasn’t going to be able to leave. That’s why he had dressed quickly, and then decided to check social media while he had made himself a coffee.

That had been when James saw the pictures. Everyone had tagged him, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

It had been just two images, both of them blurry and clearly taken from afar with a phone, hands shaky, maybe from excitement, maybe with fear of being discovered. The first one had shown Lily making out with who James had assumed was Barty in a small alleyway, only illuminated by a single streetlight. The second had been taken during the day, and it had been of Lily coming out of quite the fancy restaurant, holding hands with none other than Pandora Rosier.

James had stared at them both for probably what was probably longer than necessary. He’d ended up getting to the gym way later than originally planned, coffee left forgotten on the counter.

He hadn’t said anything to Regulus, and the other man hadn’t given him any signs that he had seen the pictures, so James had forgotten about it at some point.

“And?” Regulus inquires after it was made clear that James didn’t have any intentions of adding anything else.

“And what?” he asks in response. Regulus’ expression doesn’t give anything away, but his eyes are sort of glaring at the counter, and that’s all James needs, really.

“Well, what do you think?” Regulus presses, his wiping becoming more aggressive. “And don’t you dare say you don’t have an opinion, because I don’t—”

“Frankly, Reg, I don’t think it’s any of my business,” James mutters, albeit not unkindly.

Regulus scoffs, before throwing the cloth somewhere behind the bar. He finally lifts his head, and his eyes are wary when they settle on James.

“It’s not,” he agrees flatly. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have your own thoughts on the matter.”

James sighs heavily. “Baby—”

“No. Don’t do that. It won’t work.”

“What are you—”

“Just tell me, James. Be honest with me. I can take it. And I get it, you know? You were with Lily for so long, and you wanted to marry her at one point—”

“Regulus,” James murmurs softly, sliding a hand over the counter until his fingers graze the other man’s elbow. Regulus steps closer, allowing James to pull at his arm, until he can slide his hand down and interlace his fingers. “You wanna know what my first thought was, when I saw those pictures?”

His boyfriend stares at him in silence for a few seconds, but then he nods, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Good for her,” James tells him without even daring to blink, hoping Regulus can see the honesty in his eyes. Regulus’ brows shoot up nearly immediately, and James isn’t fast enough to suppress a smile.

“Really?” Regulus wonders in almost a whisper, squeezing James’ hand.

“Really,” James confirms, his grin widening.

“But don’t you—I don’t know, miss her?”

“Of course I do. But not as my girlfriend. I miss her as a friend, as an important person in my life, as someone I can call when something good happens and as someone whose shoulder I can cry on when I have a bad day.”

“That—that makes sense.”

“Have you been worrying about this?”

“Kinda?” Regulus shrugs with one shoulder. “It hasn’t been on my mind that much, but whenever I saw something about it, I couldn’t help but… wonder, I guess.”

“Well, there’s your answer then, baby,” James says, putting the back of Regulus’ hand close to his mouth and dropping a kiss there, pleased by the blush that appears on his boyfriend’s face. “I understand why you’d be insecure about it, but you really don’t have to be. I’m not—I don’t have feelings for Lily. You’re the only one I want.”

“Good,” Regulus huffs.

“I gotta say, though, I’m feeling a bit nosy about the whole thing. Is Lily dating Barty or Pandora? Or both? Or maybe neither and she’s just having some fun—”

Regulus snorts, shaking his head gently. “My bet’s on both.”

“You think?” James wrinkles his nose in disdain. “God, I hope not. I like to believe Lily has better taste than that. Talk about a downgrade—”

“James, you turned out to be a cheater, so let’s not go there,” Regulus deadpans, his gaze mildly amused.

He whines a little; it’s not something that James likes to talk about, but he’s come to accept it to the point where he doesn’t mind when Regulus, or even Sirius and Remus, joke about it. He’s not proud of it, and it’ll weigh on him until the day he dies, but he’s learnt to live with it. To own up to his mistake.

“Still,” he mumbles. “If me and Lily had remained friends, I’d know all about it, and I’d be able to judge her so hard—”

“She’d probably do it more if she knew how much it annoys you,” Regulus tells him, and, well, he’s got a point. “Also, is it bad that I’m sort of hoping you two never reconnect?”

James’ eyes widen momentarily, before his face relaxes again. He kisses Regulus’ hand once more, his lips lingering on the skin for a bit longer this time.

“No, baby,” James says. “Or, at least, I don’t think so. I get it.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Reg, I just told you I wanna punch your coworker just because I don’t like how he looks at you. I think you’re allowed to feel jealous of my ex-girlfriend.”

The corners of Regulus’ mouth twitch. “I’m not jealous,” he retorts a bit petulantly. “I’m just being cautious.”

“Of course,” James agrees without missing a beat, swallowing down a laugh.

“Regulus!” Ada exclaims, making them both startle. James even tilts his head back, searching for the woman but still not letting go of his boyfriend. He locates her leaning against the hosting stand, watching them with a raised eyebrow and half a smile. “If you’re gonna keep slacking off to flirt with your boyfriend, you might as well clock out already!”

The other man straightens up slightly, lips parting as he stares at Ada back. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am,” Regulus’ boss reassures him with an affectionate roll of her eyes. “Besides, you only have ten minutes left.”

“Yeah, I know, but—”

“C’mon, don’t be an idiot. It’s pretty dead anyway, and Kieran will be here in the next half an hour. Go get changed and I’ll clock you out.”

James turns around, beaming at his boyfriend, who still looks a little reluctant but is already taking his radio off, making his way out from behind the bar.

“If you’re sure…” Regulus mutters.

“I am,” Ada assures him, extending her hand when Regulus reaches her so she can grab his radio. “Don’t make James wait any longer, yeah?”

Regulus rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling a little, walking towards the back of the restaurant, where James knows the staff room is hidden.

“And you stay right there, Potter,” Jen pipes in, as she emerges from back of house, an accusatory finger pointed at James. “The staff room is supposed to be a safe space for us. I don’t wanna be forced to watch you and Reg fucking—”

“It was one time!” James hisses, glancing briefly at Ada and hoping she hasn’t heard. “And we were not fucking, don’t be so dramatic. We were just, just snogging…”

James had also given Regulus a quick handjob, but Jen had walked in after that, and she had merely seen James’ fingers tucked under Regulus’ waistband while they made out. That had been embarrassing enough, so it’s better if she doesn’t know the whole truth.

“If you say so,” she says with a lazy smirk. “Want a pint while you wait? On the house.”

James perks up. “I mean, if you’re offering.”

“I am.” Jen rolls her eyes. “But only because Reg is probably gonna want a drink too. And Ada adores you, so she won’t mind.”

“Then go ahead. It’d be stupid to say no to free beer, after all.”

She scoffs, but seems mildly entertained as she slips behind the bar. Jen tends to act like she isn’t very fond of James, probably out of loyalty to Regulus, playing the role of the protective friend. But James can tell that she appreciates him, at least to a degree, and he likes to know that there’s someone at Regulus’ work looking out for him. Not to mention, she’s incredibly funny, so he also quite enjoys her company.

His relationship with Regulus isn’t always easy, and they still fight more often than James is used to when it comes to romantic partners. But in moments like this, when he realises how seamlessly he fits in Regulus’ life, how much he loves to include the other man in every part of his, too, James realises he’s never been happier.

***

Waking up next to Regulus must be one of James’ favourite things in the world.

He’s lucky enough that he nearly always wakes up before his boyfriend; Regulus’ job is more physically exhausting, and he’s also not really a morning person, which makes sense considering he suffers from insomnia, but which James also finds a little funny because Regulus has told him that he spent most of his life having never been allowed to get up later than nine in the morning.

James does enjoy sleeping in too from time to time, but he needs a routine to keep his life under control. That, and the best time to go to the gym is always early in the day, when there aren’t too many people and everyone is minding their own business.

But whenever he sleeps over at Regulus’ flat, he makes sure to set his alarm extra early, even if that means he wakes up more tired than usual, just so he can spend as long as possible staring at Regulus.

His boyfriend is just so gorgeous. James might be biased, all things considered, but he thinks he’s right regardless. And Regulus always looks the prettiest when asleep, hair a mess, lips slightly parted and face completely relaxed. Curled on James’ side, or lying on top of him, or letting himself be hugged from behind. James can’t fucking look away, holding onto his boyfriend a bit tighter, happy to just be surrounded by Regulus’ scent. He wishes they could do this every day, but their jobs complicate things a bit, and since James refuses to have Regulus stay over at Sirius’ flat, Regulus’ small flat can feel a bit cramped with the two of them.

They’ve been a lot more civil to each other lately, to the point they’re watching a show together now and even hang out on their own to watch it. Sure, the few times James has witnessed it Sirius and Regulus had been sitting on opposite sides of the couch, and they bicker way too much for the whole thing to be enjoyable, but still, progress.

That doesn’t mean James wants to risk the fragile peace that’s been created between the brothers just because he’s clingy and also very horny.

He knows Sirius enough to be able to tell that he’s glad, at least to a degree, to have Regulus back in his life. But his presence is still something Sirius hasn’t managed to grow entirely accustomed to, and his flat with Remus is home. His safe space. Having Regulus stay over would probably feel a little invasive, and James respects them both too much to do something so selfish.

Not to mention, he and Regulus have a difficult time keeping their hands to themselves, and Sirius and Remus’ walls aren’t that thick. James already subjected his friends to way more than he had ever wanted them to see, and it’s still a sore topic in their relationship. He isn’t going to be having sex in their near vicinity any time soon.

It’s fine, though. James doesn’t mind, as long as he gets this. Cuddling with Regulus at least a couple of nights every week, opening his eyes and his boyfriend being the first thing he sees, spending minutes or even hours just watching him breathe in and breathe out, feeling him turn around and press closer to James unconsciously, seeking his touch and warmth even when he’s asleep.

God, but Regulus is just so handsome. So beautiful. His curls are so soft even when they’re all messy and tangled. James can’t help but play with them gently while he tries to count the few freckles covering Regulus’ face and the top of his shoulders. James has done this before, but he always manages to discover a new one every time. That, or he gets distracted by his moles.

“Are you being a creep again?” Regulus mumbles, voice hoarse from disuse. He doesn’t bother opening his eyes, but considering this isn’t the first time he’s caught James staring at him like a fool, it’s not like he needs to check at this point.

“Yes,” James responds shamelessly with a little sigh.

Regulus’ mouth ticks upwards, and then he’s swatting James in the arm weakly.

“You’re just so pretty,” James continues, eyes following the slope of his nose, the curve of his pink links, the sharpness of his cheeks.

“Shut up,” Regulus grumbles, turning his face until half of it is hidden into James’ shoulder. “It’s too early for this.”

“You don’t even know what time it is.”

“If I ask, am I gonna like the answer?”

“Probably not.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

James laughs softly, his chest feeling so full he’s convinced it’ll burst open at any moment. “Sorry. I can stop if you really want me to.”

He’s lying. He’s absolutely lying. But he could be more careful about it, if it genuinely bothers Regulus, or brings him any discomfort.

His boyfriend huffs out loud, but he still shakes his head, and James can’t help but beam down at him. When Regulus attempts to press even nearer, and James leans closer, not surprised but very pleased to find the other man’s cheeks covered in red.

One of his arms moves from where it’s wrapped around Regulus’ waist, until his hand grabs Regulus’ chin delicately, tilting his head up. His boyfriend doesn’t resist, both because he’s always putty in James’ hands, but also because he’s still half asleep.

However, as soon as Regulus realises his intentions, he turns his head away, pushing at James with no actual strength.

“Gimme a kiss,” James whines with a little pout.

“No,” Regulus protests petulantly. “I have morning breath—”

“Don’t care,” James retorts, and then he’s trying again, pressing Regulus into the mattress and shifting his body until he’s hovering over the other man.

Despite the frown twisting his features, Regulus doesn’t fight back this time, tilting his chin up and allowing their mouths to meet. It’s a languid, almost lazy kiss, neither of them in a rush to deepen it or turn into something more. James hums into it, and Regulus eats up the noise with eager lips and a teasing tongue.

When they pull apart, his boyfriend finally has his eyes open, although they’re a bit half-lidded, as if he’s making an active effort to not close them again.

“Hi,” James says, grinning softly.

“Hi,” Regulus replies in the same tone. “You’re disgusting.”

“And yet, you still kissed me back,” James singsongs.

“I need to stop indulging you so much,” Regulus sighs with a light shake of his head, and James chuckles, dropping his weight on the other man, happy when Regulus automatically embraces him, nuzzling his nose into James’ hair.

“What do you mean by indulging? You wanted it as much as I did,” James says, poking Regulus on the side. His hand is immediately swatted away.

“You fucking wish,” his boyfriend scoffs, and despite the annoyance in his voice, he starts to comb through James’ curls, fingers careful and touch filled with affection. “Brushing your teeth takes a couple of minutes tops, and considering you’ve been awake for at least half an hour—”

“Forty-five minutes, actually—” James corrects him, amused and endeared, and god, he wants to kiss Regulus again so badly.

“Considering you’ve been awake for forty-five minutes,” Regulus goes on, a bit sharply. “I think you’ve had more than enough time to get up, go to the bathroom, and make sure your damn mouth is clean.”

“I thought the problem was the fact that you haven’t had the chance to brush yours?”

“Well, yes, James, but one of us not having morning breath is better than both of us having it!”

“Is it? I feel like it doesn’t make that much of a difference—”

“Obviously it does! And, I don’t know, if you’re so eager to kiss me, to the point you can’t wait two minutes—”

“I really can’t,” James assures him, and despite how wide he’s smiling, he means every word.

“Jesus, you’re insufferable,” Regulus groans, while hugging him tighter. James even swears he can feel a little kiss on top of his head. “The point is you had more than enough time to brush your fucking teeth, James! You knew it was gonna take me a while to wake up, because sometimes I’m still asleep even after you’re back from the gym, and you know I hate morning breath—”

“Baby, you hate so many things it’s hard to keep up—”

“Shut up, you keep up just fine. You wouldn’t be so good at pissing me off otherwise.”

“You’re always so cranky in the morning, it’s so cute,” James coos, kissing one of Regulus’ pecs.

“Let’s see how cute you find me when I bite your dick off,” Regulus snarks back, and James actually giggles.

“Hey, Reg?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

James can’t remember if he’s said it again since their confession a few months ago. He feels like he must have, surely, because it would be a grave oversight otherwise and he’s never been very good at keeping that kind of thing to himself. But it’s very early in the morning, James is high on Regulus, and he has no idea if he’s been telling Regulus enough just how much he feels it.

He isn’t worried, though. He isn’t afraid. James already knows Regulus’ answer, regardless if the other man is uttering the words out loud or expressing through actions, through looks, through being there for James every single day.

“I love you too,” his boyfriend replies with an ease that shocks James a little, but also makes him want to squeal. “I hope you know it doesn’t make me any less irritated with you, though.”

James laughs openly, shoulders shaking and jaw hurting from how big he’s grinning. He’s lifting himself up a second later, and when he crashes his lips against Regulus’ a second time, the other man doesn’t complain, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing back without a second thought.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” James whispers against Regulus’ mouth.

They spend the next hour making out lazily in bed. James never makes it to the gym that day, and Regulus doesn’t brush his teeth until after breakfast.

***

When he and Regulus sit on the red leather couch, they do so comfortably, no tension to be found in either of their bodies. James puts a hand on Regulus’ thigh, and he doesn’t even flinch when Pandora’s gaze follows the movement, her eyebrows going up slightly as she smiles blandly at them.

James doesn’t reciprocate the gesture.

“I have to admit, guys, I really didn’t expect you to agree to come to the reunion,” she says softly, intertwining her hands over her lap. She’s wearing a long, purple dress, and her long platinum hair is on a thick braid, resting over her chest. Pandora looks as stunning and threatening as the first time James saw her. “But I think I speak for everyone here, as well as all the people watching this from the comfort of their homes, that I’m incredibly happy you did.”

“What can we say, Pandora,” Regulus says coolly, shrugging with just one shoulder. “We aim to please.”

“Of course,” she agrees, nodding. “And I suppose it’s safe to assume that you two are still together?”

The way she tilts her head at them, as if in challenge, makes James want to scoff, but he manages to keep his expression blank, content with just squeezing Regulus’ leg momentarily.

“Very much so,” Regulus confirms, and the way his lips curve upwards is genuine. “Before you ask, yes, we’re quite happy.”

“We’re moving in together in a couple of months, in fact,” James announces proudly, leaning towards Regulus, exchanging a brief glance with his boyfriend.

“Oh!” Pandora exclaims, one of her hands coming to cover her mouth, her eyes lighting up in wonder. James can’t wrap his head around how great of an actress she is, sometimes. “That’s so lovely! Congratulations, you two.”

“Thank you,” Regulus answers sweetly, shifting his body until he’s resting against James’. He knows they agreed to be more affectionate than usual, just to make a point, but James swoons at the action regardless. “We’re very excited.”

“I bet,” Pandora murmurs, her smile turning the slightest bit sharper. “It doesn’t feel like you might be moving a bit too quickly?”

“We’ve been together for over a year,” James comments drily.

“Still.” Pandora leans back on her seat. “Your relationship had a bit of a rocky start, no?”

“Sure,” James concedes calmly. “It happened and developed under very specific circumstances, after all. But we’re both adults, and we’ve come to know each other well. I think we know what we’re ready for better than you, or anyone else.”

“Absolutely. It’s so refreshing to see you so confident and secure in your relationship with Regulus, James.”

“Thanks.”

“Especially because I remember how hard it was for you. I mean, you hadn’t even known you liked men back when you and Regulus began sleeping together.”

“I don’t think—” Regulus cuts in, his tone a little strained. James squeezes his thigh in reassurance, though, and the other man stops talking nearly immediately.

“It’s fine,” James murmurs, turning his head to offer him a tiny smile, before he focuses on Pandora once again. “Yeah, it was very scary,” he tells her honestly. “It was a part of myself I had never explored, or even acknowledged before.”

“Why do you think that was?” she questions.

James shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. I just had never fancied a bloke before. Sure, I thought some men were attractive, but not in a way that made me wonder.”

“That makes sense,” Pandora mutters with a slow nod. “Has that brought any kind of issues to your relationship?”

“What, my sexuality crisis?” James laughs, and he doesn’t even have to force it. “Not at all. I’m not sure if it’s because I had to repress a lot of shit to not lose my mind during the show, but after we went back to London, well… I just embraced it? I guess? Sure, I had a few moments where it hit me, like, really hit me, but it never became an actual problem. And Regulus has been so patient and understanding with me.”

His boyfriend covers James’ hand with his own, slipping his finger between the gaps of James’, squeezing softly.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Pandora says, and for some reason, James believes her this time. “I’m gay myself, so I’m aware how hard it can be. Having someone who supports you unconditionally and is there every step of the way is… beautiful.”

“Yeah,” James sighs, offering a little grin to the woman. “It used to feel kinda scary, to even refer to myself as queer, even though I have a whole ass boyfriend, and a lot of my closest friends aren’t straight. But now I’m just proud to say I’m bisexual.”

Regulus tilts his head just to drop a sweet kiss on his cheek, and James leans into the touch like it’s second nature. The small audience they have on set coos at the gesture, which makes them both chuckle, and even Pandora seems mildly amused.

“You’re actually gonna make me emotional at this rate, god,” Pandora huffs out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I do hate to ruin this moment, but I’m too nosy not to ask. What happened right after the show?”

James blinks at her innocently, and he sees Regulus cocking his head out of the corner of his eye.

“What do you mean?” his boyfriend questions, at a loss.

“Well, I think we all noticed that you were both completely radio silent for, at least, a couple of months. James even made all his accounts private, and you didn’t follow each other, so we all wondered.”

“We just needed time,” Regulus answers swiftly, pausing to take a deep breath, gaze downcast. “Going back home was more difficult than we had anticipated. James even stayed for a bit with his parents, and we gave each other some space.”

“So, you weren’t together?” Pandora tilts her body forward, her eyes glinting.

“No, we were,” James says, and it’s not exactly a lie. “But we needed a while to adjust. Focus on friends and family, and on returning to our normal lives.”

“I see,” Pandora drawls. Despite her smile, James can tell that she’s not pleased. “It’s a relief that there weren’t any problems. Or that they weren’t too serious.”

“We love each other so much,” Regulus butts in, giving James’ hand another squeeze. “And luckily for us, it has turned out to be enough.”

The way he’s throwing Pandora’s last words to them back at her with such innocence makes James want to cackle. He bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood, squirming a little in his seat in the process and hiding his mouth in Regulus’ curls momentarily, with the excuse of kissing his boyfriend’s hair.

There’s more cooing coming from the audience, but what actually gets James’ grin to widen is how Pandora looks startled for a very brief moment. She recovers fast, but James caught it anyway, and agreeing to this feels very worth it all of a sudden, if only because of the satisfaction currently pooling in his stomach.

Pandora clutches at her chest, letting out a dreamy sigh in the process. “It’s wonderful to know you both have been doing so well. That your love is so strong and so pure.” She sighs again, and then her gaze falls on James, eyes narrowing slightly. “Is it different? From being with Lily?”

James’ jaw clenches, and he smiles with gritted teeth.

“Of course it is. They’re different people,” James explains, relieved that he doesn’t sound annoyed. “But not in a bad way. What I feel for Regulus has nothing to do with what I felt for Lily.”

Pandora hums noncommittally. “Do you have any idea why she’d refuse to come here tonight?”

“Not really.” James arches an eyebrow at her, smile becoming smug. “I feel like you know more about what’s going on with her these days.”

Pandora’s eyes widen, her mouth parting, and after a second or two, she’s doubling over, a pearl of laughter falling off her lips, wracking her whole frame, until there are tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

James joins her a bit later, and Regulus too, forehead resting on James’ shoulders as he chuckles helplessly.

When they all manage to calm down, Pandora wipes delicately under her eyes, careful to not ruin her makeup.

“Well played,” she tells James, her mouth still curled upwards. There’s something akin to admiration covering her voice.

“I learnt from the best,” he replies with a tilt of his head.

She snorts. “Damn right.” Pandora fans herself a little, blinking fast before she finally pulls herself together, that professional mask of hers slipping back into place. “Anything else you wanna share with us before we move onto our next guests tonight?”

James shifts to look at Regulus, discovering the other man already staring at him. They don’t really exchange any words, but James doesn’t have any trouble reading Regulus’ gaze, understanding what he wants, realising that they’re both on the same page.

They fit, after all. In every way that matters. And James loves it. Loves every fight, every misunderstanding. Every joke and every smile and every touch.

Loves him.

When they both turn around to focus on Pandora once more, he and Regulus shake their heads nearly at the same time.

“Nah,” James says, kissing Regulus’ temple gently. “We’ve shared enough. Everything else is just for us.”