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Chapter Text

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July 11th

The house was silent, the kind of silence that pressed against Regulus’s ears like the weight of deep water. His heart hammered so loudly he was sure it would wake them. He didn’t dare move at first, huddled in the shadows of his bedroom, the faint scent of singed fabric lingering from the spell that had torn through his robes earlier. His hands trembled as he tightened his cloak around himself.

The pain was dull now, though it still radiated through his ribs and stomach, a sharp ache flaring with every shallow breath. His arms throbbed where he’d braced himself against the floor after collapsing under the Cruciatus curse. He didn’t dare inspect the full damage. His father’s hex had struck his side, leaving a fiery, raw sensation that made it hard to stand upright. And his mother… well, he didn’t want to think about the moments that had followed.

Regulus winced as he straightened. A deep, stabbing pain bloomed in his ribs, forcing him to pause, his breaths shallow and uneven. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to stay quiet. He’d been quiet his whole life. Why should this moment be any different? The thought was bitter, but he swallowed it down like poison.

Gripping his wand with white-knuckled determination, he crept toward the door. Every creak of the floorboard beneath him felt like a betrayal. Every whisper of sound in the ancient house sent his heart racing. He imagined the portraits coming alive, screaming his name. He imagined his mother’s cold, furious voice slicing through the air, “Where do you think you’re going, boy?”

But no one stirred.

At the top of the stairs, he froze, his breath hitching as he glanced toward his parents’ closed door. His stomach churned, his knees nearly buckling under the weight of his fear. For one horrible second, he thought he heard movement. But the house remained still, its shadows stretching long and ominous across the walls.

Keep going, he told himself. His hand shook as he gripped the banister. One step at a time.

By the time he slipped out the front door, his chest ached from holding his breath. The cool night air hit him like a spell, sharp and cutting against his damp skin. He staggered into the darkness, the gravel beneath his shoes crunching too loudly in his ears.

He froze, glancing back at the house in disbelief. The wards… how hadn’t they gone off? He knew they were there, layered with cruel precision to detect any disobedience. He wasn’t sure he’d bypassed them properly; his magic had felt sluggish and erratic, barely responding under the strain of the curses he’d endured. Yet somehow, they hadn’t stopped him. He didn’t understand it, but he wasn’t about to waste time questioning it.

He was free.

The streets were empty, the world bathed in cold moonlight. Regulus pulled his cloak tighter, his free hand pressed to his side. Every step sent a jolt of pain through his body, sharp and relentless, like shards of glass digging into his ribs with every movement. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t think. If he thought, he would fall apart.

The night was alive with sounds, rustling leaves, distant dogs barking, the wind carrying whispers that sounded too much like voices. He glanced over his shoulder again and again, convinced he was being followed. His breathing grew shallow, quickened by the mounting panic.

Every inch of him hurt. His ribs throbbed with a searing pain, his stomach twisted and aching from where another curse had struck him. His knees threatened to buckle with every step, but he forced himself to keep moving. He couldn’t stop now.

You should have stayed. You’ll never make it. The voice in his head was cruel, but he shoved it aside.

Regulus’s foot caught on a loose stone, and he fell hard, his knees slamming into the ground. He bit his lip to stifle a cry, the taste of blood flooding his mouth. For a moment, he stayed there, shaking and gasping as the pain flared through his body. He wanted to lie there, let the street swallow him whole, but the thought of being caught, of being dragged back, pushed him to move.

He pressed his hands to the ground, his raw palms stinging as he forced himself upright. His vision swam, the edges blurring as he stumbled forward. His breaths were shallow and rapid, each one clawing at his throat as he fought against the rising panic.

They’ll find you. They always find you. The thought gnawed at him, and he shook his head, trying to dislodge it.

He kept walking. His mind was a storm of fear, pain, and memories he couldn’t outrun. The last time his mother had used the Cruciatus on him, she had looked almost bored. A lesson, she’d called it.

The blinding headlights came out of nowhere, flooding the street and sending his shadow skittering ahead of him. Regulus stumbled back, his wand half-raised. The screech of brakes echoed in the empty street, followed by the metallic clank of the bus door swinging open.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard,” came the cheery voice of the conductor, Stan Shunpike, who blinked at Regulus with wide, startled eyes. “Blimey, mate, you look like—”

“The Potter’s house,” Regulus rasped, his voice hoarse and trembling. He shoved a handful of Sickles into Stan’s hand before collapsing onto the nearest seat.

Stan stared for a moment but said nothing. The bus jolted into motion, sending Regulus sprawling against the window. He didn’t care. The world outside blurred into streaks of color, and for the first time in hours, days, fucking weeks he allowed himself to breathe.

The pain throbbed with each beat of his heart, but he ignored it. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, his gray eyes vacant as he stared at the night rushing past. The Potters. He was going to the Potters.

To Sirius.

But what if they didn’t want him? The thought clawed at his mind, sharp and relentless. What if Sirius slammed the door in his face? What if he really was as unwanted as his parents had said countless times.

Worthless.

He closed his eyes, his fingers curling into fists. The bus’s chaotic movement rocked him like a cradle, but there was no comfort in it. Only the endless, gnawing ache of uncertainty.

His hands burned, the skin scraped raw from where he had fallen earlier, and he risked a glance at his palms. Even in the faint light filtering through the hall window, he could see the blood smeared across his skin. He bit back a curse and wiped his hands against his cloak, though it did little to hide it.

Regulus’ mind spiraled, replaying every argument, every curse, every cruel word. His mother’s cold sneer, his father’s sharp disapproval… they were burned into his memory, etched so deeply he wasn’t sure he’d ever be free of them.

The night outside was endless, the trees and houses blending together in a dark, shapeless smear. Regulus closed his eyes, his fingers curling into fists as he tried to steady his breathing. For now, he was moving forward. It was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

The Knight Bus jolted forward with a sudden lurch, and Regulus had to grip the armrest to keep from sliding out of his seat. His knuckles were white, his nails digging into the cracked leather as the world outside blurred past. His ribs screamed in protest at every bump in the road, each jolt sending fresh pain rippling through his battered body.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady his breathing, but it was no use. His thoughts churned like a storm, chaotic and relentless.

I hate them.

The words repeated over and over in his mind, bitter and sharp, like glass cutting into old wounds. He hated his parents, hated the house he had grown up in, hated the family name that weighed on him like chains. But most of all, he hated himself. For staying, for enduring, for being too fucking weak to leave until now.

The curse still lingered in his bones, a phantom ache that made his hands tremble and his teeth chatter. He thought of his mother’s cold smile, the way her wand had barely wavered as she hurled curse after curse at him, her voice echoing in the cavernous house: “You are a disgrace to the Black family name.”

His chest tightened as the memories surged forward, and he clutched at his side, willing himself not to fall apart. He felt so small, so hollow. His head throbbed, and the edges of his vision blurred. His body begged for rest, but he couldn’t give in. Not yet.

The bus rattled around him, its garish purple walls too bright, too strange. Regulus barely noticed the conductor, who kept glancing at him nervously. He stared out the window, the world outside endless darkness and faint light, and tried to hold on to the one thought that kept him moving forward. Safety.

He had memorized the address Sirius had sent him over a year ago, burning the letter so his parents wouldn’t find it. He hadn’t gone then. He’d told himself he couldn’t. He needed to stay. Needed to protect Sirius, even if his brother didn’t want his protection.

But Sirius was safe now. And Regulus wasn’t.

Hadn’t been for a long time. Longer than he cared to think about.

His breathing grew shallow, his chest heaving as the pain flared again. He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the cool glass. His fingers trembled as they brushed against his wand, the only weapon he had left. He hated how useless it felt, how useless he felt.

The bus jolted to a stop, the sharp motion nearly throwing him forward.

“We’re here,” came Stan’s voice, hesitant and awkward.

Regulus forced himself to move, his body heavy and sluggish. His knees wobbled as he stumbled down the steps, the cold night air hitting him like a slap. He didn’t bother to thank Stan. His voice was too weak, his mind too scattered. The doors slammed shut behind him, and the bus disappeared with a loud crack, leaving him alone on the quiet street.

He looked up, his vision swimming as he spotted the small, welcoming house at the end of the lane. Warm yellow light spilled from its windows, and he felt a pang of something he couldn’t name… longing, perhaps.

His legs moved without him realizing, dragging him closer to the house. His boots scraped against the gravel driveway, each step heavier than the last. The ache in his ribs grew sharper, and his head pounded, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

By the time he reached the door, he was trembling violently. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his vision blurred until the house seemed to sway in front of him. He raised a hand to knock, but his arm gave out, and he collapsed against the door, his body too weak to hold him up any longer.

For a long moment, the world was silent except for his ragged breathing. The night pressed in around him, cold and unforgiving. He wondered if anyone had heard him, or if he’d be left here, crumpled on the doorstep like some discarded thing.

Just when despair began to creep in, faint shuffling sounds came from within. The floorboards groaned, and his heart stuttered. A minute passed, though it felt like an eternity, before the door was pulled open.

“…Regulus?”

James Potter’s voice was sharp with shock, his eyes wide as he took in the figure slumped against the doorframe. Regulus tried to speak, to explain, but no words came. His throat was too dry, his mind too clouded. He managed a faint, shaky breath before the darkness began to close in.

“Merlin—Mum! Dad! Sirius!” James shouted, kneeling down and reaching for Regulus. His hands hovered for a moment, unsure where to touch without causing more pain.

Regulus felt himself being lifted, and though his body protested the movement, he was too far gone to resist. James’s strong arms cradled him, and Regulus heard him mutter something, words he couldn’t make out over the roaring in his ears.

“Bloody hell,” James whispered, his voice thick with disbelief and anger. Regulus was too thin, his body frighteningly light, his pale skin marred by bruises and cuts. James carried him inside, his heart hammering as he called out again, “Mum!”

Sirius appeared first, his face twisted in confusion that quickly turned to worry when he saw who James was carrying.

“Reg?” Sirius’s voice broke, and he took a step forward before stopping abruptly, his hands clenched into fists. He stared at his brother, his gray eyes flicking over the bruises, the blood, the cuts. He looked physically ill, his face pale and his jaw tight.

“He’s hurt bad,” James said, his voice urgent, panic bleeding into his words. Euphemia hurried into the room, her wand already in hand and a small wooden case tucked under her arm.

“Bring him to the couch,” she instructed, her tone calm but firm. James obeyed, gently lowering Regulus onto the cushions. Sirius followed, his movements stiff and hesitant, his hands flexing at his sides.

Euphemia knelt beside Regulus, her expression softening with worry as she began casting diagnostic spells. Pale blue light danced across Regulus’s battered body, revealing fractured ribs, deep bruises, and lingering traces of dark magic. She frowned.

“He’s been hit with the Cruciatus,” she muttered, mostly to herself, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She reached into her case and pulled out several small jars of salves, along with a vial of clear potion. “James, bring me some clean cloths and warm water,” she said briskly. James darted into the kitchen without hesitation.

Sirius stood frozen, his pale face betraying the growing storm inside him. His breaths came shallow and fast as his eyes darted over the injuries covering his brother’s frail frame. “My parents did this,” he said suddenly, his voice sharp and raw.

Euphemia glanced up at him, her gaze kind but steady. “Sirius, stay with me. We’ll take care of him first, then talk about what happened.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him.

“I—” Sirius’s voice broke, and he clenched his fists tightly. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve—”

“You couldn’t have stopped this, Sirius,” she said gently, but firmly. “What you can do is help him now.”

James returned, setting a bowl of steaming water and a stack of cloths beside her. Euphemia dampened a cloth and began dabbing at the blood and grime on Regulus’s face. When she moved to the deeper wounds on his side, Regulus let out a low, unconscious whimper.

Sirius flinched, his hands trembling at his sides. He stepped closer and knelt beside his brother, his anger melting into something raw and desperate. “Reggie,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Euphemia handed him a jar of salve. “Work this into the bruises,” she instructed, giving him something to focus on. Sirius nodded wordlessly and took it, his hands unsteady as he began applying the ointment to Regulus’s ribs.

“This wasn’t an accident,” James said, his voice tight and trembling with restrained anger.

“No,” Sirius said sharply, his movements halting for a moment. His eyes flicked to James, dark with fury. “They did this on purpose. It’s how they are… how they’ve always been.” His voice cracked, but he forced himself to keep going. “And I left him there.”

Euphemia’s hand stilled for a moment, then she placed it lightly on Sirius’s shoulder. “You couldn’t have saved him back then, darling,” she said gently. “But he’s here now. Safe. And that’s what matters.”

James stepped closer, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he watched Sirius work. The room fell silent except for the crackling fire and Regulus’s uneven breaths.

When Euphemia finally leaned back, her spells and salves having worked to mend some of the more pressing injuries, she met Sirius’s gaze. “He needs rest now. We’ve done what we can for the pain and wounds. The rest will take time.”

James started to move toward Regulus, but Sirius stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’ll do it,” he said quietly, his voice steady but low.

James hesitated, then nodded, stepping aside. Sirius carefully slipped an arm under Regulus, lifting him with surprising gentleness. For a moment, he just stood there, holding his brother close and staring down at him with a mixture of anger, guilt, and grief.

“I should’ve been there,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

James watched silently, his chest tightening at the sight. Euphemia touched his arm gently. “Take him upstairs, dear. We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”

Sirius nodded, carrying Regulus up the stairs as James and Euphemia exchanged worried looks. The house, usually so warm and welcoming, felt heavy with the weight of what had just happened.

The door creaked softly as Sirius carried Regulus into the bedroom he shared with James. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the moon filtering through the window. Sirius crossed the threshold carefully, as if afraid Regulus might break further if he jostled him. His younger brother was alarmingly light in his arms, his thin frame more noticeable now that Sirius had the chance to really look at him. Every bruise, every cut. It was unbearable.

Sirius gently lowered Regulus onto his bed, his movements deliberate and precise. For a moment, he just stood there, staring down at him. His chest ached, a mix of anger, guilt, and heartbreak swirling inside him.

James lingered nearby, his expression soft but worried. “I’ll grab some more wash cloths,” he offered quietly, disappearing from the room to give Sirius a moment.

Sirius knelt by the bed, his hand hovering over Regulus’s face. He wanted to touch him, to reassure himself that Regulus was still breathing, but the sight of the bruises stopped him.

“What did they do to you?” he whispered, his voice shaking.

When James returned with the clean cloths, Sirius took them wordlessly. His movements were stiff, his jaw clenched as began gently cleaning the blood from Regulus’s hands.

Regulus stirred faintly, a low groan escaping his lips. Sirius froze, his hand trembling as he withdrew the cloth.

“It’s okay,” Sirius said softly, his voice cracking. “You’re safe now.”

James watched from where he stood at the foot of the bed, his chest tight as he saw Sirius struggle to hold himself together. He had never seen Sirius like this, so raw, so vulnerable.

Sirius worked slowly, his anger fueling his focus as he wiped away the grime and blood. He found an old set of pajamas from his drawer. Ones he had outgrown but kept for some reason, and carefully helped Regulus change. His hands shook as he pulled the soft fabric over Regulus’s fragile frame, taking extra care not to disturb the bruises that littered his skin.

When he was done, Sirius sat back on his heels, letting out a shaky breath. James stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You did good,” James said gently.

Sirius let out a bitter laugh. “Did I?” He shook his head, his voice low and filled with self-loathing. “I left him there, James. For years. I left him to them.”

James didn’t know what to say, so he guided Sirius over to his bed. They sat side by side, the room heavy with silence except for the faint, uneven breaths of Regulus sleeping.

“I didn’t think he’d ever leave,” Sirius admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He rubbed his face with his hands, his shoulders hunched. “When I left, I thought—I thought maybe he wanted to stay. That he agreed with them. But I still hoped, you know? I hoped he’d come. I stayed up some nights just… waiting.”

James frowned, his heart breaking for his best friend. “You sent him the address,” he reminded Sirius. “You did what you could.”

“I didn’t do enough,” Sirius shot back. “I thought about going back so many times. But I never did. I was scared, James. I thought if I stepped foot in that house again, I’d never leave. That they’d make me stay.”

“You’re here now,” James said firmly. “He’s here now. That’s what matters.”

Sirius swallowed hard, nodding, but his eyes remained fixed on Regulus’s frail form.

A soft knock interrupted them, and Euphemia entered with a tray of tea. She placed it on James’s nightstand before sitting beside Sirius. Her hand found his hair, stroking it gently, lovingly.

“He’s going to be okay,” she said softly. “It’ll take time, but he’ll heal. And he’s always welcome here, Sirius. You both are.”

Sirius leaned into her touch, his eyes brimming with tears he didn’t try to hide. Euphemia kissed the top of his head before standing. “I’ll check on him in the morning. Try to get some rest, boys.”

As she left, the room fell silent again. Sirius looked at James, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t protect him, James. I should’ve. I should’ve been there.”

James didn’t hesitate, pulling him close and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Sirius resisted for only a moment before he let himself collapse against James, his head resting on his lap.

“They didn’t hit us, you know,” Sirius said quietly, his voice muffled and raw. “Not like normal kids get hit. That would’ve been too…mundane for them. Too beneath them.” He laughed bitterly, a sound that was more pain than humor.

James stayed quiet, letting Sirius continue.

“They had spells for everything. Spells that made you feel like your skin was on fire. Spells that made it hard to breathe or kept you awake for days. If you talked back, if you didn’t meet their expectations… You’d feel it.” Sirius’s voice cracked, and his breathing hitched as another wave of emotion hit him.

“I used to try and take it for him,” he said, his hands trembling in his lap. “Reggie… he was so small. So quiet. He wouldn’t fight back. And I—” Sirius broke off, his voice strangled.

James’s hand stilled for a moment, then resumed its soothing circles.

“I’d step in. Say it was my fault. Take the blame. And for a while, they let me. I thought I was protecting him. But it didn’t stop, James. It never stopped. When I finally left… I begged him to come with me.” Sirius’s voice cracked again, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “He wouldn’t. Said he couldn’t. Looking back now, I can see it. He wasn’t being stubborn. He wasn’t being a coward. He was just terrified.”

The room went quiet except for Sirius’s uneven breaths. James tightened his hold on him, his throat constricting at the weight of what Sirius had just revealed.

“They broke him, James,” Sirius whispered, his voice barely audible now. “Piece by piece. And I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“You didn’t leave because you didn’t care,” James said quietly. “You left because you couldn’t survive there anymore. That’s not the same as abandoning him.”

Sirius didn’t respond, they just sat there like that in silence until eventually Sirius’ breathing gradually evened out as sleep overtook him. His head grew heavy in James’s lap, and soon, the steady rhythm of his breaths signaled that he had fallen asleep.

James sat still, staring at the firelight flickering on the walls. His gaze eventually drifted to Regulus, lying motionless on the bed. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated his face, sharpening the contours of his features and casting deep shadows across the bruises marring his skin.

James’s mind raced. He barely knew Regulus. Just glimpses in the halls, brief interactions during Quidditch matches. Sirius had always kept his distance from his brother, and James had assumed it was because Regulus wanted what their parents had to offer. The pure-blood legacy. The power.

But now… now he wasn’t so sure.

The boy lying on the bed didn’t look like someone who wanted any part of that world. He looked like someone who had fought and lost. Over and over again. James’s chest tightened, anger curling hot and sharp in his stomach.

He glanced down at Sirius, still asleep, his face softened in the glow of the firelight. James ran a hand through his own hair, the weight of everything he’d just heard settling heavy in his chest. Whatever came next, he knew one thing for sure: he wouldn’t let them go through this alone.

Regulus shifted slightly in his sleep, his face pinched as if even dreams couldn’t bring him peace. James felt a pang of something… pity, maybe. Or guilt. Or something else he couldn’t quite name.

He sighed, his hand still resting on Sirius’s shoulder as he stared at Regulus, his thoughts a jumble of questions and worries. He stayed awake long after Sirius drifted off, watching over both of them as the night stretched on.

Chapter Text

July 12th

Regulus woke slowly, his mind swimming in a haze of exhaustion and lingering pain. His body felt heavy, like he’d been dragged through a battlefield, and every movement sent a dull ache rippling through him.

The pain wasn’t as sharp as it had been the night before, but it still clung to him, an insistent reminder of why he was here. He flexed his fingers and shifted slightly, testing the limits of his battered body.

The room was unfamiliar. Soft, quiet, and warm in a way that set him on edge.

He blinked against the faint light filtering through the curtains, taking in his surroundings. The walls were lined with mismatched posters: Quidditch teams, Gryffindor banners, posters of bands he didn’t recognize and hastily tacked-up photographs that swayed slightly in the breeze from an open window. The room was cluttered but alive. Strewn with clothes, scattered textbooks, and broomstick polish sitting precariously on the edge of a desk.

One side of the room was unmistakably Sirius’s, Regulus would recognize his brother’s chaos anywhere, from the mess of boots kicked under the bed to the torn bits of parchment littering the nightstand. The other half was neater, somewhat, though no less vibrant. Regulus’s gaze lingered on the neatly folded Quidditch jersey hanging off the chair and the collection of photographs on the dresser: James with his arm slung around Sirius, both grinning like fools.

Regulus pushed himself upright, wincing as pain shot through his ribs. He swallowed it down, taking in the space around him.

It was strange to see so much life in a room. The Black family home had always been cold and oppressive, its grandeur serving as a mask for the rot beneath. This room, cluttered and imperfect, felt more like a rebellion against all that, and it made Regulus’s chest ache.

A pang of something sharp and unnameable shot through him as he stared at the photographs. This was Sirius’s new life, one he’d chosen for himself. It was warm and bright, so unlike the suffocating coldness of Grimmauld Place. Regulus knew Sirius had fought for this, had clawed his way out of their parents’ grasp. And he was happy here.

Regulus swallowed hard, the ache in his chest growing heavier. He’d spent years convincing himself that Sirius had abandoned him. That his brother’s escape was a betrayal, not a salvation. But looking around this room, seeing the life Sirius had built, it wasn’t betrayal he felt. It was longing.

He shifted again, and the pain in his ribs flared, drawing a sharp gasp from his lips. He froze, his heart pounding as he waited for the sharp reprimand he’d been conditioned to expect. But the room remained silent. No cruel words. No wand pointed at him. Just silence.

The safety of it was unnerving.

The door creaked open, and Regulus stiffened. A woman stepped in, balancing a tray in her hands. She was older, with a kind face framed by soft waves of dark hair streaked with silver. She smiled at him. A warm, genuine smile that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“You’re awake,” she said gently, setting the tray on the bedside table. “I thought you might be hungry, but let’s start with this.” She picked up a small bottle of potion and held it out to him.

Regulus didn’t move. His heart was racing, his body tense as he eyed her hand warily. When she stepped closer, he flinched, his breath hitching.

Her expression softened, and she stopped in her tracks. “You’re safe here,” she said after a moment. “I promise, Regulus. No one’s going to hurt you.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry and scratchy, but he took the potion with trembling hands. She waited patiently as he drank it, the liquid easing some of the sharpest edges of his pain.

“I’m Euphemia,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful to give him space. “James’ mum. Lunch will be ready soon, and James and Sirius are downstairs. But I thought you might like some time to yourself first so I brought you up some.”

Regulus nodded stiffly, unsure how to respond. He looked down at his lap, realizing for the first time that the clothes he wore weren’t his own. The oversized jumper and soft, worn trousers smelled faintly of Sirius… of the outdoors and something sharp, like the aftershave he used to steal from their father’s study.

“They’re Sirius’s,” Euphemia said gently, following his gaze. “Yours were… well, let’s just say they weren’t in the best shape.” She offered him a small, apologetic smile.

Regulus’s fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket. He hated how exposed he felt, sitting there in someone else’s clothes, in someone else’s home. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny the small comfort in the fabric’s softness, in the faint trace of familiarity it carried.

Euphemia stood, smoothing down her skirt. “The bathroom is just down the hall, to your left,” she said. “There are towels in the cabinet if you’d like to shower.”

Regulus nodded again, still unable to find his voice.

Euphemia stood, pausing at the door. “If you need anything, just call for me, alright?

He nodded again, and she left with a quiet smile, shutting the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Regulus let out a shaky breath. His hands gripped the blanket tightly as he tried to sort through the whirlwind of emotions crashing over him. Everything felt new. Too new. The room, the smells, the absence of cold, judgmental eyes watching his every move. It was all overwhelming.

He glanced around again, taking in the chaos of Sirius’s side of the room and the comparative order of James’s. Sirius had always been wild, untamed in a way that had both terrified and awed Regulus as a child. Seeing his brother’s new life so plainly laid out before him. The life he’d chosen over them, sent a fresh pang of confusion and anger through Regulus.

But it wasn’t just anger. It was envy. Longing. Regret.

His mind raced, replaying the events of the night before in fragments: his mother’s cold sneer, his father’s wand raised, the searing pain of curses ripping through him. And now this warmth, care, a bed that didn’t creak ominously with every movement. It felt foreign, wrong even, and yet…

The knot in his chest tightened, and he pressed a hand to his ribs, focusing on the dull ache to ground himself. He didn’t deserve this. He wasn’t sure he deserved anything anymore.

Regulus wasn’t sure how long he sat there, taking it all in. Letting himself feel like he was secure for this moment. Hours could’ve passed and Regulus wouldn’t have even noticed. Too lost in the unfamiliarity of everything surrounding him.

The next time the door opened, it was Sirius. He stepped in hesitantly, closing the door with a soft click before leaning against it. Regulus stiffened again, his eyes narrowing as he watched his brother shuffle awkwardly, his usual confidence nowhere to be found.

Sirius didn’t speak right away. His dark eyes flitted around the room, avoiding Regulus’s piercing gaze.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the silence between them stretching unbearably.

Finally, Sirius cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than Regulus remembered. It wasn’t the boisterous, teasing tone Sirius had always used to mask his own pain. This was quieter, more vulnerable.

Regulus didn’t respond. He just watched, his expression guarded, waiting for whatever Sirius had come to say. Waiting for the inevitable anger or pity or whatever this new version of Sirius might throw at him.

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not good at this,” he admitted, his tone tinged with something thick. “I don’t know what to say to make this better, or if I even can. But…” He finally met Regulus’s eyes, and the raw emotion there made Regulus’s breath catch. “I’m glad you’re here, Reggie.”

The name hit him like a spell. He hadn’t heard it in years. Not since Sirius left. Not since Sirius gave up on him.

“You don’t get to call me that,” Regulus said coldly, his voice low and sharp.

Sirius flinched but didn’t look away, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Regulus lied, his tone clipped.

Sirius winced, but he didn’t push. “Mum said you’ve got some potions. They’ll help.” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I…It’s good to see you. Really.”

Regulus looked away, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Sirius flinched again, but this time he pushed himself off the door and sat cautiously at the edge of the bed. “I’ve been waiting for this. For you to—” He stopped, his words catching in his throat. “I’m sorry, Reg. For leaving you there.”

Regulus’s head snapped toward him, his eyes sharp and cold. “You think an apology fixes anything? Do you know what it was like after you left?”

“I know,” Sirius said quietly, his voice thick with guilt. “I—I knew it would be bad, but I thought…” He trailed off, staring at the floor. “I thought you wanted to stay.”

“Wanted to?” Regulus laughed bitterly. “I stayed because I had to. Because someone had to deal with them.”

Sirius’s face crumpled, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Regulus’s words hung heavy in the air, and Sirius seemed to shrink under their weight.

“I wanted to come back for you,” Sirius said eventually, his voice breaking. “So many times. But I—” He stopped, shaking his head. “I was too scared. And I hate myself for that.”

Regulus didn’t respond, his gaze dropping to his hands. The conversation was too much, too raw, and he could feel himself retreating back behind the walls he’d spent years building.

Sirius took the hint and stood, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll leave you alone,” he murmured. “If you need anything, we’re just downstairs.”

Regulus didn’t look up as Sirius left, closing the door softly behind him. He sat in silence, staring at his hands. They were clean now, but the memory of blood still lingered. This place… it felt too safe, too steady. He didn’t know how to exist here.

Pulling the borrowed jumper tighter around himself, Regulus leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel the weight of his parents’ shadows pressing down on him. And that, more than anything, terrified him.

Regulus had been here for mere hours, but it felt like an eternity. An eternity of suffocating warmth and the gnawing ache of something he couldn’t quite name. Sirius had been here all this time, living this comfortable, happy life while Regulus had been drowning in darkness. His brother had a new family. He called Euphemia “Mum” like it was nothing, like it had always been that way.

The thought stung more than Regulus cared to admit.

His fists clenched, and he winced as the motion pulled at the scabbed-over cuts on his knuckles. He glanced down at them, the faint stains of dried blood a reminder of his desperation. The memories of the night before clawed at the edges of his mind: the screaming, the searing pain, the sound of the door as he finally left.

He pushed it all down, swallowing hard. This wasn’t the time to break. Not here, not now. Not when the world he’d stepped into was so foreign and fragile, and he didn’t yet know how to navigate it.

Lying back down, he tried to relax, his body protesting as he shifted under the blanket. His mind, however, was far from quiet. Thoughts swirled, memories overlapping with the present, until the exhaustion finally pulled him under.

When he woke again, it was with a sharp gasp, his chest heaving as he jolted upright. Pain lanced through his ribs, and he let out a low hiss, immediately regretting the sudden movement. He stayed hunched over on the bed, his forehead nearly brushing his knees as he gripped the edge of the mattress and tried to catch his breath.

It was just a dream. Just a dream, he told himself. But his hands still trembled, and his heart raced like he’d barely escaped the horrors his mind had conjured.

With a shaky hand, he reached for his wand, which lay on the nightstand. “Tempus,” he whispered, the spell casting a faint glow in the dim room. 12:37. It hadn’t even been an hour since he’d fallen asleep.

He let out a bitter laugh, though it sounded more like a choke. Of course. Even sleep wouldn’t grant him peace.

A faint knock broke his thoughts. Regulus’s head jerked up, his heart skipping. For a brief, wild moment, he thought it might be Orion or Walburga on the other side, their shadows creeping into this new haven. But the door creaked open, and it was James who peeked in, his brown eyes warm and kind.

“Hey,” James said softly, stepping inside. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just thought you might want…” He hesitated, holding up a mug of tea, its steam curling lazily into the air. “Something warm.”

Regulus stared at him for a moment, unsure how to respond. His mind felt sluggish, still tangled in the nightmare, but he nodded slightly, his voice too hoarse to form words.

James walked over and set the mug on the nightstand, his movements careful, like he was afraid of startling him. He stood there for a moment, watching Regulus as though trying to decide whether to say more or leave.

“You don’t have to drink it now,” James added, his voice light. “But it’s good for warming up. Mum swears by it… says it’ll heal just about anything.” He smiled faintly, a boyish, disarming thing that didn’t quite fit the tension hanging in the air.

Regulus’s gaze dropped to the tea, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for it but couldn’t bring himself to.

James offered him another gentle smile, his brown eyes steady and warm. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

Regulus didn’t respond, his throat too tight to form words, but he gave the smallest of nods. James lingered for a moment longer, as if unsure whether to say something else, but then he turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

The silence that followed was heavy, pressing against Regulus like a weight. He glanced back at the mug of tea on the nightstand. The steam had started to dissipate, but the faint aroma of chamomile still curled in the air. His fingers twitched again before he slowly reached out and wrapped his hands around it. The warmth seeped into his palms, almost comforting, though it felt foreign, unnatural.

He brought the mug to his lips and took a tentative sip. The tea was faintly sweet, soothing as it slid down his throat. It wasn’t something he would have chosen for himself, but he didn’t hate it. With each sip, the tension in his chest loosened ever so slightly, though the ache in his ribs remained a constant reminder of where he’d come from.

When the mug was empty, Regulus set it down carefully and glanced toward the door. For a moment, he just sat there, unsure what to do. The room felt too quiet, too stifling, so he pushed himself up, wincing as his sore muscles protested.

The hallway was dim and unfamiliar, the floorboards creaking softly underfoot. Regulus moved slowly, his gaze darting to the family photographs lining the walls. James as a child, grinning with a broom in his hands. Euphemia and her husband standing close, arms wrapped around each other with warm, easy smiles. The house radiated a kind of love and warmth that felt almost oppressive, suffocating in its unfamiliarity.

He found the bathroom easily enough. Euphemia’s instructions clear in his mind. The towels were folded neatly on a small rack, and the scent of lavender lingered faintly in the air. Regulus locked the door behind him, taking a moment to lean against it and catch his breath.

The shower was brief but necessary. He didn’t think about it, didn’t let his mind linger on the bruises and scars as he scrubbed away the remnants of the previous night, or the dark brownish blood as it swirled down the drain. When he emerged, his skin was raw and pink, his hair damp and curling slightly at the edges.

He didn’t linger.

Back in Sirius and James’s room, Regulus hesitated, glancing around. The bed was still unmade, the mug of tea sitting empty on the nightstand. He didn’t feel ready to lie back down, his mind still buzzing too much to settle.

His gaze landed on a shelf of books crammed haphazardly into the corner. Without thinking, he reached for one at random. The spine was worn, the title faded, and when he flipped it open, he found himself staring at pages filled with James’s scrawling notes in the margins.

Regulus sank onto the edge of the bed, turning the pages slowly. The words barely registered, his mind wandering as he tried to piece together the fragments of his reality. Everything here felt new, strange, and unsteady. For now, though, the book in his hands was enough to keep the memories at bay.

Time passed slowly, marked only by the shifting sunlight that filtered through the curtains. Regulus sat by the window, the book still open in his lap, though he hadn’t turned a page in what felt like forever. His stomach growled, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet room.

As if summoned by his hunger, the door creaked open again. Regulus’s head snapped up, his chest tightening briefly before he saw James standing there, his easy grin firmly in place.

“Hey,” James said brightly, leaning against the doorframe. “Dinner’s ready. My mum’s been cooking for hours. She always goes overboard. She made shepherd’s pie… best you’ll ever have.”

Regulus blinked at him, caught off guard by the casual, friendly tone. He stared at James’s easy smile for a moment too long, something strange and unfamiliar twisting in his chest.

When he didn’t respond right away, James stepped farther into the room, his voice softening. “You’re always welcome here, you know. You don’t have to feel out of place. This is home now, just like it is for Sirius.”

Home. The word settled uncomfortably in Regulus’s mind. He shifted his gaze back to the window, unable to hold James’s earnest stare for long. A part of him wanted to believe those words, but another part, larger and louder, recoiled from them.

“I don’t think Sirius wants to see me,” Regulus said after a beat, his voice quiet and brittle.

James frowned, taking a step closer. “That’s not true,” he said firmly. “Sirius just… doesn’t know how to face this yet. He’s scared. For you. For himself.”

Regulus’s chest tightened, the words hitting somewhere deep. He turned the book over in his hands, his fingers brushing against the worn edges of the pages. “He sent you instead.”

“No,” James replied immediately, his tone steady and certain. “I came because I wanted to. Because I thought maybe you’d need someone who wasn’t Sirius right now.”

Regulus looked up at him again, his throat tight. James was still smiling, but it wasn’t the same grin he seemed to usually wear. This one was smaller, softer, like he was trying to offer something he didn’t know how to put into words.

“Come on,” James said, stepping back toward the door. “If nothing else, Mum’s shepherd’s pie is worth getting out of bed for. And Sirius is downstairs. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to, but he wants to see you. He’s just… giving you space.”

Regulus hesitated, his fingers curling tighter around the book. But after a moment, he set it aside and pushed himself to his feet. His ribs still ached, and his limbs felt too heavy, but the rumbling in his stomach was too persistent to ignore.

James waited for him at the door, his grin widening just a fraction when Regulus finally stepped forward. “That’s the spirit. Let’s go before Sirius eats all the pie.”

James stepped aside to let him pass, but Regulus hesitated before following him out. The rest of the hallway was just as bright, lined with photos of smiling faces. Family moments. Sirius’s face was in some of them, and his absence was glaring in others. There was even a family portrait hanging at the end of the hall with Sirius standing proudly next to James, between Euphemia and Fleamont. It was painfully domestic. Painfully normal.

Regulus hated how it made him feel. Jealous. Angry. It wasn’t fair that Sirius had escaped, had found love and safety, while Regulus had been left behind in a crumbling house full of cold, cruel people. The thought twisted something ugly in his chest.

James’s voice broke through his thoughts as they descended the stairs. He was talking about Quidditch, something about an upcoming match, but Regulus barely heard him. He was too distracted by the house itself, its warmth, its light. It wasn’t opulent like Grimmauld Place, but it was alive. The walls weren’t bare; they were covered in photos, artwork, little decorations. It was the complete opposite of what he’d grown up with.

When they reached the dining room, Regulus’s steps faltered. Sirius was already there, leaning back in his chair, talking animatedly with James’ parents. He looked utterly at ease, his laughter echoing through the room. It was like seeing a stranger.

Euphemia turned first, her face lighting up when she saw Regulus. “Oh, there you are, dear. Come in, have a seat. You must be starving.”

Fleamont stood, offering a kind smile. “Welcome, Regulus. I don’t think we’ve had a proper introduction. I’m Fleamont Potter. It’s good to have you here.”

Regulus muttered a quiet, “Thank you,” and slipped into the room, careful to avoid Sirius’s gaze. He sat at the far end of the table, his shoulders stiff, his hands in his lap. He didn’t belong here, he could feel it in every fiber of his being.

The conversation at the table quieted as Sirius looked at him, his grin faltering. The room felt heavy with unspoken words. Regulus refused to meet his brother’s gaze, staring instead at the plate Euphemia set in front of him.

“Eat up,” she said gently, brushing her hand against his shoulder as she passed. Regulus flinched at the contact, his breath catching, but Euphemia didn’t seem to notice. She moved back to her seat, chatting lightly with Fleamont as if nothing had happened.

Regulus’s stomach twisted, the food on his plate looking both inviting and overwhelming. He picked up his fork but didn’t take a bite, his mind too tangled with everything around him. The warmth of the room felt suffocating, the weight of Sirius’s silence unbearable.

Regulus poked at the shepherd’s pie with his fork, feeling the weight of every eye in the room, though none were openly staring. The smells wafting from his plate were rich and comforting, but his stomach churned with anxiety. He forced himself to take a small bite, barely tasting it, before setting the fork down again. The silence between him and Sirius felt like a chasm, and he had no idea how to bridge it. Or if he even wanted to.

“So, Regulus,” Fleamont began, his tone casual but warm, “are you still playing Quidditch at school?”

Regulus blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Yes,” he replied quietly, his voice raspy. “Seeker.”

“Seeker!” Fleamont’s face lit up. “Of course. Sirius mentioned you were good—what was it he said, Euphemia? That you’re one of the best Slytherin’s had in years?”

Regulus shot Sirius a quick, confused glance, but Sirius was staring at his own plate, silent and tense.

Euphemia smiled, her tone light and kind. “It must run in the family. Sirius would’ve been a brilliant Seeker too, but he was too stubborn to give up his Beater’s bat.”

James chuckled. “He said he preferred knocking people off their brooms to chasing after the Snitch. Figures.”

Regulus almost smiled at that, but the tension in his chest refused to ease.

Euphemia’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “You don’t have to eat much if you’re not hungry, dear, but I do hope you’ll try a bit more. You’ll need your strength.”

Regulus hesitated, then nodded and took another small bite. The food settled uneasily in his stomach, but it was warm and comforting in a way that surprised him.

“I heard Slytherin’s potentially got a strong team this year,” James said, his voice casual but pointed. “Think you’ll make it to the Cup?”

Regulus stiffened slightly, unsure if it was a genuine question or some kind of challenge. “We’ve won the last two years,” he replied, his tone clipped. “I don’t see why this year would be any different.”

James smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Confident. I like that. But don’t get too comfortable—Gryffindor I think will have a good line up too once school starts.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his gaze flickering to Sirius, who remained unnervingly quiet.

The conversation lulled again, and Regulus felt Euphemia watching him. Her gaze wasn’t prying or judgmental; it was soft, patient. “If there’s anything you need while you’re here, you just let me know,” she said. “We’re happy to have you, Regulus. Truly.”

Her words were so genuine, so unfamiliar, that they made his throat tighten. He nodded stiffly, not trusting himself to speak.

When the meal was over, Euphemia stood, smoothing her apron. “James, Sirius, why don’t you show Regulus around a bit? Get him familiar with the place.”

James rose with his usual easy grin, but Sirius hesitated. Regulus felt the weight of his brother’s stare for the first time since they’d sat down.

“Are you up for it?” Sirius asked, his voice low and cautious.

Regulus met his gaze, the anger from earlier bubbling up again. But there was something else in Sirius’s expression. Worry, maybe even guilt. It made Regulus’s stomach churn all over again.

“I’ll manage,” he said coldly, standing up before Sirius could press further.

James clapped his hands together, oblivious to the tension, or at least pretending to be. “Right, then. Let’s start with the library. You’ll like it, Regulus. Small but Loads of books. Not as dark and dusty as the ones at Hogwarts, though.”

Regulus followed James out of the dining room, Sirius trailing behind them. As they walked through the house, James kept up a steady stream of chatter, pointing out different rooms and family photos. Regulus listened in silence, his mind racing.

When they reached the library, Sirius finally spoke.

“Regulus.”

James glanced between them and, sensing the tension, muttered something about tea before disappearing down the hall.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Are you… Are you really okay?”

Regulus turned to him, his expression guarded. “Why do you care?”

The words were sharper than he intended, and Sirius flinched, “Because you’re my brother.”

“Brother,” Regulus repeated bitterly, his anger from earlier flaring again. “Funny. You didn’t seem to care about that when you left.”

Sirius’s face crumpled. “I—” He stopped, struggling to find the words. “I didn’t want to leave you behind, Regulus. I didn’t. But I couldn’t stay in that house any longer.”

“And yet you did nothing,” Regulus spat. “You left, and you got to be happy here while I—” His voice cracked, and he stopped, his fists clenched at his sides.

The silence between them stretched, thick and suffocating. Regulus stood there, arms crossed, his eyes trained on the floor. He could feel the weight of the conversation pulling at him, the words hanging in the air, heavy with things that had never been said.

It was strange, this tension, this overwhelming weight between them, and yet… something felt different. The anger that had fueled him for so long now felt distant, though still sharp, still there, under the surface. His chest tightened.

Sirius shifted on his feet, his usual bravado replaced with something more vulnerable, something Regulus had never expected to see.

“You think I’ve been happy?” Sirius’s voice cracked slightly, and he took a step forward, his eyes wide with something that looked like desperation. “Do you know how many nights I stayed awake, hoping you’d show up? How many times I almost went back to try and get you, but I couldn’t—I couldn’t face them again.”

Regulus’s throat closed up, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to shout, to hurl all the accusations he’d kept inside, but something inside him hesitated. Something deeper, something softer, made him freeze. He could feel his heart beating painfully against his chest, mixing with the anger, the betrayal, the resentment he had carried for so long. And yet, there was something else now. A weight he didn’t know how to name, something that made the anger feel too thin, too fragile to hold onto.

Sirius stepped closer, his eyes pleading. His voice dropped to a quiet, raw note. “I was scared, Reg. I was scared I wouldn’t make it out a second time. But I never stopped thinking about you. Not for a second.”

The words hit Regulus like a physical blow, and he flinched, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep his expression blank. Didn’t stop thinking about me? The thought churned in his chest, sharp and bitter, and it made him angrier somehow. Angrier than he’d been moments ago. If Sirius had been thinking about him all this time, why had he left him there, in that cold, dark house, surrounded by their parents’ venom and cruelty, wondering every day if Sirius even fucking cared?

He wanted to scream at him, to let all the anger spill out like poison. Instead, his lips stayed pressed in a thin, trembling line.

His mind raced, filled with memories of all the times he’d sat alone in their cold, dark house, wondering where his brother had gone, why he’d left him behind. The days stretched on, and all Regulus had ever wanted was to be free. Free of their family, free of the suffocating expectations.

But even now, in this strange place, in this strange warmth, Regulus wasn’t sure he knew how to be free of the bitterness that had followed him.

Sirius’s voice cracked again, quieter this time, rawer. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said, his words dragging out like they were harder than any curse. “But I’m glad you’re here. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this place feel like home for you. I mean that.”

For the first time, Regulus’s gaze flickered to his brother. His chest tightened as he saw it, the raw, vulnerable look in Sirius’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what he saw there. Guilt, sorrow, love?

Whatever it was, it didn’t erase the years of anger, the hurt, the betrayal that had been embedded in Regulus’s heart for so long. But it did something. Something small, something that made Regulus feel his defenses cracking, just a little.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” Regulus said, his voice tight, quiet. He could hear the pain in his own words, and the realization of it made him want to withdraw even further. He looked away from his brother again, unable to meet his eyes.

Sirius nodded slowly, his expression heavy. “That’s fair,” he replied, his voice low. There was nothing defensive in his tone, no anger or frustration. Just a kind of quiet resignation, as if he knew, in his heart, that Regulus was right. That maybe, just maybe, forgiveness wasn’t something that could be given so easily.

“I know you need time to adjust,” Sirius said, his voice soft but firm. “You can head back upstairs if you want. Mum is having James and I clean out her sewing room for you. She wants it ready tonight…” He trailed off, his hands clenching at his sides as if trying to hold on to something, anything. Regulus couldn’t decide if his brother was nervous or just tired, but it didn’t matter.

Regulus looked at him, a faint nod of acknowledgment the only response he could muster. He wasn’t sure if he could leave this room. Wasn’t sure if he could leave the confrontation behind him and return to the space where things still didn’t feel real, where he didn’t know what his place was. But he didn’t want to argue, didn’t want to keep dragging this out, so he simply said, “I’ll just stay here.”

Sirius didn’t press him further. He just nodded, his face unreadable for a moment before he turned to leave. The door clicked softly behind him, and Regulus was left alone in the quiet of the room.

He stood there for a while, letting the silence settle around him. His mind wandered back to his brother’s words, each one heavier than the last. They felt like something Regulus wasn’t sure he could hold, as if they would shatter in his hands. And yet… part of him wanted to believe them. Wanted to believe that this place, this strange, warm place, could be the start of something new. Something where he wasn’t just the younger Black brother, broken and forgotten, but something else entirely.

He looked around the library, letting his gaze fall on the shelves of books, the quiet atmosphere that seemed to surround him. He could see why Sirius had spent so much time here, why he had felt safe.

The warmth, the comfort. It was everything that had been denied to Regulus for so long. It felt like a different world altogether. And for the first time since arriving, Regulus didn’t feel the cold bite of isolation. He didn’t feel completely out of place.

With a deep breath, Regulus sank down into one of the armchairs, the leather creaking softly under his weight. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to push away the swirl of thoughts. There were still so many things left unsaid, so many emotions that he couldn’t begin to sort through. But for now, in this room, with the quiet, with the weight of the past pressing heavily against his shoulders, Regulus allowed himself the smallest sliver of silence.

A few minutes had passed since Sirius had left, the echo of his retreating footsteps still lingering in Regulus’s mind. The room was quiet now, save for the faint ticking of a clock and the distant hum of conversation across the house.

It was almost… peaceful.

Until he noticed James lingering near the door, leaning against the frame like he’d been there all along, though his relaxed posture didn’t fool anyone. “Tea’s ready,” he said, his voice easy and warm.

Regulus straightened, his gaze dropping back to the floor. He hadn’t heard James approach, and the interruption, though simple, felt like a jolt.

For a moment, silence stretched between them. James waited, hands shoved into his pockets, as if gauging whether Regulus would follow or not. When it became clear Regulus had no intention of speaking first, James grinned faintly, stepping into the room.

“Come on, before Mum starts sending search parties. She takes tea very seriously, you know. Almost as seriously as her biscuits. You don’t want to get on her bad side about those.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow but didn’t reply. He stood stiffly, his movements deliberate, as though reluctant to let his guard down even for something as simple as following James down a hallway. Still, he fell into step behind him.

James led the way with an easy stride, tossing a glance over his shoulder every now and then as if to check that Regulus hadn’t disappeared. “You know,” James said casually, “Sirius talks about you a lot.”

Regulus tensed but kept his expression blank. “Does he?”

“Yeah,” James said, his tone still light. “Always said you were the clever one. The Slytherin who actually lived up to all the stuff the Sorting Hat rambles on about. Pretty sure he’s proud of that, even if he’d never admit it.”

Regulus frowned, his steps faltering just slightly. He didn’t know what to make of that. If it was true, if Sirius had ever thought of him that way, or if it was just another thing James had plucked out of the air to make conversation. Either way, it felt like an observation he wasn’t prepared to hear.

James slowed his pace but didn’t look back. “You’re a bit quieter than I expected, though. Sirius always made you sound like some sort of scheming mastermind. You know—twirling your mustache, plotting world domination.” He smirked. “Was that just wishful thinking on his part?”

Regulus’s lips twitched, almost into something like a smile. Instead, he glanced at the floor and muttered, “I suppose I’m not much for theatrics.”

“No, I can see that,” James said, stopping in front of a door that led into the living room. He turned to face Regulus fully now, studying him with an openness that made Regulus feel exposed. “But for what it’s worth, I think Sirius exaggerates because he wants to make you sound like the best version of yourself. Whether you like it or not.”

Regulus didn’t reply. He couldn’t. His throat felt tight, and he didn’t trust himself to speak without something slipping through that he wasn’t ready to share. Instead, he nodded curtly, stepping past James into the living room.

The space was warm and inviting, lit by the glow of a fire. Sirius sat on the sofa, already cradling a teacup in his hands, while Euphemia arranged a plate of biscuits on the low table. She glanced up and smiled at Regulus, her warmth so genuine it made him hesitate again.

“Come, sit,” Euphemia said gently, gesturing to an empty chair near the fire. “I’ve saved you a seat.”

Regulus sat carefully, his movements measured, and kept his hands in his lap, resisting the urge to glance at Sirius. James slid onto the sofa beside his best friend, taking a cup from the tray and balancing it on his knee as if he’d done it a thousand times.

“Well, Mum,” James said, leaning back with his usual easy grin. “Let’s hope he likes your tea. Don’t want him thinking we’re uncultured swine, do we?”

Euphemia rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I don’t think tea alone will save us, James, but thank you for your concern.”

Regulus stayed quiet, the faintest quirk of his lips betraying his amusement as he reached for the cup Euphemia handed him. The china felt fragile in his hands, out of place, like so much else in this house. Still, he held it carefully and let the warmth seep into his fingers.

James tilted his head, watching him as though trying to solve a puzzle. “You know, you’ve got the same sharp look as Sirius, but it’s… quieter. Like you’re plotting something but don’t want anyone to know.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, meeting James’s gaze for the first time. “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of plotting?”

James laughed, the sound bright and unexpected. “Touché.”

And just like that, the room settled into something softer. There was tension, yes, but also the faintest thread of understanding beginning to form. Regulus didn’t let himself relax entirely, but for the first time since arriving, he felt something close to… safe.

“So, Mum,” he said, grinning over his cup, “you didn’t tell Regulus about your tea-time rules, did you?”

“Rules?” Regulus asked warily, finally glancing over at James.

Euphemia shook her head, exasperated but smiling. “James is being dramatic.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” James said, smirking at Regulus. “See, she has this thing about crumbs. Spill a single one, and it’s instant exile to the backyard.”

Regulus blinked, unsure how to respond, and James tilted his head, clearly waiting for a reaction.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” Regulus said flatly, earning a huff of laughter from James.

“Well, you’re already doing better than Sirius, then,” James said, jabbing a finger at his best friend, who glared at him over his tea. “You should’ve seen it—first week he was here, crumbs everywhere. Mum almost lost it.”

“I did not—” Sirius started, but Euphemia cut him off with a fond sigh.

“He’s exaggerating, as usual,” she said, though there was amusement in her tone. “But it is true that Sirius had some… questionable table manners when he first came to stay with us.”

Regulus glanced at Sirius, noting the way his brother’s ears turned red. Sirius caught his gaze and shrugged.

The exchange was brief, but it tugged at something in Regulus’s chest. This wasn’t the Sirius he remembered, the brash, sharp-edged boy who always seemed to be on the verge of exploding. This was someone softer, more settled. It was strange to see.

Euphemia’s voice pulled him back. “Sirius and James will be cleaning out the sewing room for you after tea,” she said, glancing between the two boys pointedly.

“Don’t worry,” James said. “We’ll even make sure the spiders have proper eviction notices.”

Sirius groaned. “There aren't any spiders in there.”

“Oh, there are spiders,” James shot back. “Big ones. Fangs and everything. Honestly, I’m doing you a favor by going in there at all.”

Euphemia rolled her eyes. “If there are spiders, James, you can leave them be. I’m sure they won’t bother anyone.”

Regulus sat quietly, watching the banter bounce back and forth like a well-practiced routine. It was easy, comfortable, and so foreign to him that it felt like observing a scene in a play. He sipped his tea cautiously, the warm liquid soothing his throat.

“Regulus,” Fleamont said suddenly, his voice breaking into the chatter. Regulus’s gaze snapped to him, wary.

Fleamont smiled, lowering his paper. “How are you settling in, lad? Everything all right so far?”

Regulus hesitated, feeling the weight of the room’s attention shift to him. “Yes, thank you,” he said quietly. “Everything’s… fine.”

“Good to hear,” Fleamont said, his tone kind but not overbearing. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. We’re happy to have you here.”

Regulus nodded, his fingers tightening around his teacup. He wasn’t sure he believed that, but there was something disarming about Fleamont’s sincerity.

“Well,” Euphemia said briskly, standing and brushing off her hands. “Why don’t you boys get started on the sewing room? The sooner it’s cleared, the sooner Regulus can have a proper space.”

Sirius groaned dramatically but stood, setting his cup down. James followed with a grin, snagging another biscuit on his way out.

“We’ll make it spider-free, promise,” James said to Regulus as he passed, the teasing lilt still in his voice.

Regulus gave a small nod, watching them go. The room felt quieter without their presence, though the fire still crackled softly in the hearth. Euphemia began gathering the empty teacups, her movements calm and efficient.

Fleamont excused himself to go read.

“Regulus,” she said after a moment, glancing at him. “Why don’t you stay here and rest for a bit while they sort things out? You’ve had quite the day already.”

Regulus hesitated, then nodded again. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Euphemia gave him a gentle smile. “You’re welcome, dear.”

He watched her move about the room, feeling something unfamiliar stir in his chest. It wasn’t warmth, exactly, but it wasn’t cold, either. It was… different.

As the sound of Sirius and James’s voices faded down the hall, Regulus remained in his chair, his eyes fixed on the flames in the fireplace. He shifted slightly, unsure what to do with himself now that it was just him and Euphemia. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it pressed on him, reminding him of how out of place he felt here.

Euphemia didn’t rush to fill the quiet. Instead, she moved about the room with an easy grace, stacking empty teacups onto a tray. Finally, she paused and turned to him, her expression open and kind.

“You know,” she began conversationally, “I’ve always loved this time of day. When the house is still, the fire’s going, and there’s just enough quiet to think.” She sat down in the chair opposite him, her smile soft. “It’s peaceful, isn’t it?”

Regulus nodded faintly. He didn’t trust his voice to say anything yet.

For a moment, Euphemia simply studied him, not in a scrutinizing way but with a warmth that felt strangely disarming. “I hope you don’t mind me asking,” she said gently, “but what are your favorite subjects at Hogwarts? You seem like the kind of young man who might enjoy a bit of history or perhaps something more precise like Arithmancy.”

Regulus blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Potions,” he said after a pause. His voice was soft but steady. “And Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Euphemia’s eyes lit up. “Ah, Potions. Monty will love that, he used to be quite the potioneer in his day, you know. Invented Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion, if you’ve heard of it. Defense, though, that makes sense. You strike me as someone who thinks ahead. Someone who values preparation.”

Her words surprised him, and he found himself looking at her more directly. She wasn’t prying, wasn’t trying to dig into him like others so often did. She simply seemed… curious.

“And you?” she continued, her tone light. “Do you have any thoughts about what you’d like to do after Hogwarts? Or is that still up in the air?”

Regulus hesitated, his hands tightening slightly around the armrests of his chair. He hadn’t allowed himself to think much about the future, had barely thought he had one until last night. “I… haven’t decided,” he said quietly.

“That’s perfectly all right,” Euphemia said, her smile reassuring. “You’ve got time to figure it out. And whatever path you choose, I’m sure it’ll suit you. You seem like someone who doesn’t do anything halfway.”

Regulus didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t used to being spoken to like this, with kindness that didn’t feel like pity, with interest that didn’t feel invasive. It was unsettling in its simplicity.

Euphemia shifted slightly, her expression softening further. “We’ll need to get you some things while you’re here. Clothes, supplies, anything else you might need. Would you be up for a little trip to town? Just the two of us? Maybe once you're settled in a bit more?”

For a moment, Regulus didn’t know what to say. The casual way she offered, like it was the most natural thing in the world, made his throat tighten. He nodded quickly, keeping his gaze fixed on the fire. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice catching slightly.

Euphemia noticed, of course, but she didn’t draw attention to it. Instead, she leaned forward and patted his hand briefly, her touch light and motherly. “You’re very welcome, dear. Now, why don’t you rest a bit? Moving into a new place is always tiring, and the boys will probably make plenty of noise while they’re at it.”

Regulus gave a small nod, not trusting himself to speak again. He stood carefully, making his way out of the room. As he climbed the stairs, he paused to glance at the family photos lining the walls.

For a fleeting moment, Regulus let himself wonder what it might be like to belong to something like this. But the thought felt too dangerous, too fragile, and he pushed it away as he continued up the stairs.

Regulus pushed open the door to the room he’d shared with Sirius and James the night before, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet.

He hesitated just inside the doorway, his hand lingering on the knob. The room felt foreign, yet strangely familiar. A space he hadn’t grown into but wasn’t entirely unwelcome in. Slowly, he stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind him.

The bed he’d slept in was still unmade, the blanket slightly askew where he’d tossed it aside earlier that day. He sank onto the edge of the mattress, his posture rigid, his hands resting on his knees. For a moment, he stared at the floor, his thoughts a swirling mess of confusion and unease.

His ribs ached with a dull throb, a reminder of why he was here in the first place. Absently, he rubbed at them, his fingers brushing over the bruises beneath his shirt. The pain was manageable, but it lingered, much like the emotions that churned in his chest.

This house was so unlike Grimmauld Place. It didn’t suffocate him, didn’t weigh on him with its history and expectations. But that only made it harder to be here, harder to reconcile the warmth of the Potters’ home with the cold, empty place he’d come from.

He thought about Sirius and James, their laughter filling the house as they worked together to clear the sewing room for him. The contrast was overwhelming.

For the first time in years, he felt something he couldn’t quite name. Not hope, it was too soon for that. But maybe the faintest sense that he wasn’t entirely adrift anymore.

Still, the bitterness lingered. He was an outsider here, a stranger in a house that wasn’t his. Even Sirius, his own brother, fit into this world so easily, while Regulus struggled to find his place.

He exhaled slowly, his hand dropping from his ribs as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. The ache in his chest wasn’t just from the bruises. It was heavier than that, deeper.

The faint sound of voices drifted up from down the hall, Sirius and James. For a moment, Regulus let himself close his eyes and listen, grounding himself in the sound of their muffled laughter and the occasional crash of something being dropped.

                   *  ~   *  ~   *

As they left the living room, Sirius and James walked side by side down the hall toward the sewing room, the silence between them heavy at first. Sirius’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched slightly, the usual confidence in his stride missing.

James cast a sideways glance at him, hesitating before speaking. “How’d it go?” he asked gently.

Sirius exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. “As good as it could’ve, I guess,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the floor ahead.

James nodded, his expression thoughtful. “He’s here. That’s something, right?”

Sirius stopped walking, turning to face James. “It’s not that simple, mate. You didn’t hear him… he’s angry, and he has every right to be. I left him there. I left him.” His voice cracked slightly, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “I can’t fix that with a couple of apologies and a bloody sewing room.”

James studied his friend, quiet concern laced in his features. “You were a kid, Sirius. You got out when you could. No one expects you to have been a bloody knight in shining armor.”

Sirius’s laugh was bitter, sharp. “Yeah, well, tell that to him. He’s got every reason to hate me, and I think part of him does. Can’t say I blame him for it.”

James stepped closer, his tone firm but kind. “He wouldn’t be here if he hated you, Sirius. He wouldn’t have come to you. And yeah, maybe it’ll take time, but he’s your brother. That counts for something.”

Sirius didn’t respond right away, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I just—I don’t know what to do, Prongs. I want to help him, but I don’t even know how to talk to him anymore.”

James clapped a hand on Sirius’s shoulder, squeezing it briefly. “You’re doing what you can. Give him time, Pads. He’s here, and that’s the first step. The rest will come.”

Sirius gave a small, reluctant nod before shrugging James’s hand off. “Yeah, well, you’re not the one who has to face him. Easy for you to play bloody wise man from the sidelines.”

James grinned, sensing the edge in Sirius’s voice and knowing he needed to shift the mood. “Oi, watch it, Black, or I’ll leave you to sort out that sewing room on your own. Mum’s been hoarding fabric scraps in there since I was a kid. If you piss me off, I might just vanish, and you’ll be buried alive in patchwork quilts.”

Sirius let out a reluctant snort, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Yeah, well, I’ve faced worse.”

“Worse than Mum’s wrath? Bold of you to think so,” James shot back, nudging Sirius lightly with his elbow.

By the time they reached the sewing room, the mood had shifted entirely. James threw open the door with a theatrical groan. “Behold! The Room of Unmanageable Chaos!”

Sirius peered inside, eyebrows raising at the cluttered space. “Merlin’s beard. Did she ever actually sew, or was this just a dumping ground for everything she didn’t want to throw away?”

James smirked. “Bit of both, I reckon. Welcome to the Potter version of a Black family skeleton closet—except ours is less murdery and more…floral.” He gestured at the mismatched stacks of fabric with a flourish.

Sirius picked up a bright pink bolt of fabric, holding it up with a look of mock horror. “Well, this’ll definitely scar Reg for life. Good start, Prongs.”

James grabbed a box from the corner, lifting the lid to reveal a pile of half-finished knitting projects. “You think this’ll help him settle in, or should we skip straight to the neon pink curtains?”

Sirius rolled his eyes but smirked despite himself. “Right, let’s get this over with before mum decides she wants to supervise.”

The two of them fell into an easy rhythm, bantering as they worked. Sirius made a point of chucking random scraps of fabric at James every time he turned his back, while James retaliated by dramatically dropping tangled skeins of yarn on Sirius’s head.

“Careful, Potter,” Sirius warned, tossing an old pincushion in James’s direction. “I’m still faster than you, and I’m not above hexing your tea.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” James gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “Messing with a man’s tea—there’s no coming back from that, Black.”

“Try me,” Sirius shot back, a glint of humor in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.

For the first time all day, the weight on Sirius’s shoulders seemed to lift, if only slightly. And as they worked, Sirius found himself thinking that maybe James was right. Maybe things wouldn’t be perfect, but they’d figure it out, one step at a time.

“Oi, careful with that box!” James huffed as Sirius heaved a lopsided stack of mismatched containers into his arms. “That one’s probably got Mum’s good embroidery floss in it, and if you ruin it, I’m not saving you.”

Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically, gripping the box tighter as they made their way toward the attic stairs. “Oh no, not the sacred floss. However will I live with myself if I get a lecture about that?”

“You laugh now,” James said with mock solemnity, holding the attic door open for Sirius, “but wait until you’re up here and realize this is where Mum hides all the really terrifying stuff.”

Sirius paused halfway up the steps, craning his neck to look back. “You mean there’s something worse than her floral collection?”

“Wait for it,” James said ominously, grinning.

The attic smelled faintly of mothballs and wood polish, with slanted beams and low light filtering in from a tiny window near the roof. Sirius set the box down on a clear patch of floor with a groan. “This place could give the Black family vaults a run for their money.”

James stepped past him, poking at a stack of trunks in the corner. “Careful where you step, mate. I think I saw a spider the size of a Quaffle in here last time.”

Sirius froze instantly, his face contorting. “You’re joking.”

James grinned, not looking back. “Dunno, am I?”

“I swear to Merlin, if I see—” Sirius’s sentence was cut off by a sudden scuttling sound near one of the trunks. His eyes widened, and before James could say anything, Sirius let out a strangled yelp and bolted back toward the stairs.

James doubled over laughing, bracing himself against one of the beams as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “Oh, this is too good. The great Sirius Black, brought to his knees by a spider! I’m never letting this one go.”

“It wasn’t just a spider,” Sirius snapped from the doorway, glaring at James. “It sounded fucking huge.”

James clutched his stomach, shaking his head as he tried to catch his breath. “I’ve got to tell Mum—she’ll knit you some spider-proof socks or something.”

Sirius growled in frustration, marching back toward James. “Right, that’s it.”

Before James could react, Sirius lunged, tackling him onto the floor with a thud. The two of them rolled across the attic, laughing and jostling as Sirius tried to pin James’s arms down.

“Say it was huge!” Sirius demanded, his voice somewhere between annoyance and amusement.

“Never!” James wheezed, twisting to try and shove Sirius off. “You’re doomed to hear about this at every family dinner forever!”

Sirius finally managed to pin James’s shoulders to the floor, leaning down with a triumphant smirk. “Who’s laughing now, Potter?”

“You are, apparently,” James shot back, and before Sirius could react, he bucked his hips and flipped them both over. Sirius’s yelp was loud enough to echo in the attic, and James howled with laughter.

The scuttling sound returned, louder this time, and both of them froze, their heads snapping toward the far corner where something darted across the floor.

And then it started moving toward them.

“Merlin’s tits—it’s coming this way!” Sirius shouted, scrambling to his feet so quickly he nearly tripped over James.

“Oh, no, no, nope!” James yelped, shoving Sirius aside in his attempt to stand. “Move, you idiot! It’s after us!”

“I am moving! You move!” Sirius shoved back, the two of them fumbling and tripping over each other in their panic as they darted toward the stairs.

James grabbed the doorframe, yanking himself out first, but Sirius wasn’t far behind, practically climbing over James to make it out.

“Watch it!” James protested, smacking at Sirius’s shoulder as they stumbled down the stairs.

“Watch yourself! You’re the one who stopped—why would you stop?!” Sirius shot back, gripping the banister as they both tumbled down the last few steps and into the hallway.

They slammed the attic door shut behind them, both panting and wide-eyed. For a moment, the hallway was silent except for their heaving breaths.

And then Sirius broke into laughter, leaning against the wall. “You should’ve seen your face!” he wheezed. “All that talk about how spiders don’t scare you, and you were ready to jump out the bloody window!”

“Me?” James said, straightening up and glaring at him. “You nearly pushed me into it! What was that about being brave, Sirius?”

“Oh, please,” Sirius said, still laughing. “At least I didn’t scream like a second-year finding a Boggart in her trunk.”

James blinked, his mouth dropping open in mock indignation. “I did not scream!”

“Oh, you absolutely screamed,” Sirius said, smirking as he mimicked James’s panicked yelp. “It’s after us!’”

“That wasn’t a scream—that was strategy,” James argued, though his lips were twitching. “You know, like rallying the troops or something.”

“Yeah, right,” Sirius said, grinning. “I’m telling everyone about this.”

James huffed but couldn’t hold back his laughter. “You’re the one who freaked out first, mate. I’m telling mum about how her brave little Padfoot can’t handle a spider.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

They both stared at each other for a long moment, and then Sirius gave James a light shove, nearly knocking him into the wall.

“I’m done with you,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes as he tried to hide his grin.

“No, you’re not,” James shot back, still laughing as they finally turned to head back to the sewing room.

                    *  ~   *  ~   *

The laughter and shouting from James and Sirius had finally faded, leaving the house quiet again. Regulus sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall opposite him, feeling the stillness press in on him. The quiet only made his thoughts louder, so he stood, his eyes wandering the room his brother shared with James.

It wasn’t sneaking, not really. He was curious. His fingers brushed over the scattered items on the desk nearest him. James’s, judging by the Gryffindor banner tacked to the wall above it. Quidditch strategy notes filled most of the parchment, haphazardly shoved together alongside a few doodles in the margins.

One of them was of a messy-haired stick figure flying after a Snitch, the words “That’s me!” scrawled beneath it.

Regulus scoffed quietly but found himself lingering, flipping through more of the notes. He spotted another drawing, this time of a scowling figure with wild hair and the label “Padfoot” underneath.

It was childish and ridiculous, and yet it stirred something in him. He set the papers down carefully, almost too carefully, as if they were fragile.

Moving across the room, his gaze landed on Sirius’s things. His clothes were thrown across a chair, and Regulus recognized the style. Leather jackets, dark shirts, heavy boots, but not the pieces themselves. They were all new, the kind of quality their parents would have approved of but chosen to ignore.

The realization hit him harder than he expected. Sirius wasn’t just staying with the Potters; he was fully integrated into their lives. Every piece of him fit here now, down to the clothes on his back.

Regulus turned away, his chest tight, but his curiosity pulled him toward the notebooks stacked near Sirius’s bed. He picked one up, flipping through its pages. It was mostly blank, but here and there were scribbles in Sirius’s handwriting, half-finished ideas for pranks, short notes to himself, the occasional swear word scratched out aggressively.

Setting it aside, he reached for another, one that felt heavier in his hands. The cover immediately caught his attention. Sirius had drawn all over it, the brown leather surface covered in intricate stars and moons. So many moons. Crescent shapes, full moons with little craters drawn in painstaking detail, and the moon phases scrawled in patterns that almost seemed chaotic. The drawings spilled onto the inside of the cover and around the edges of the pages.

Words were scattered across the notebook: “Moony,” “Moons,” over and over again. Between the words were random letter “R”s scribbled at odd angles, as if Sirius had written them without realizing it. Mixed in were crude sketches of tattoo designs… constellations, jagged stars, and flowers. A few pages had nonsense phrases scrawled in the corners, things like “Prongs was here” or “Padfoot forever,” accompanied by doodles of what looked like a clumsy stag and an hairy dog.

Some pages had jagged, fragmented sentences written as though Sirius had been trying to find the right words but never quite managed. A particularly messy section caught Regulus’s eye:

“The moon sees everything but never speaks. Silver light, soft like the way it looks at me…”

It wasn’t a full thought, barely coherent, but it felt like Sirius was pouring himself onto the pages without caring if it made sense. Another phrase nearby read:

“The moon doesn’t shine, it only reflects, but maybe that’s enough.”

Regulus frowned, flipping through faster. It was unmistakable now—every scrap of poetry, every fragment of a song lyric that wasn’t quite finished, every whispered thought, all of it pointed to one person. Or, rather, one thing. The moon.

His chest tightened, and he pushed the thought away, but the notebook didn’t let him go. Toward the back, scribbles turned into something sharper, more direct. The messy doodles and cryptic lines shifted into Sirius’s handwriting, focused and heavy.

The first proper page was written like a letter. It wasn’t nonsense this time.

“Reggie,

I don’t know if I’ll ever get to say this to you, but I hope one day I can. I hope one day you’ll understand why I had to leave. It wasn’t because of you. It was never because of you…”

Regulus’s breath hitched. He flipped to the next page, his fingers trembling. There were more letters, scattered through the notebook, addressed to him.

Some were dated as far back as two years ago.

“I hated leaving you. I hated the way you looked at me the last time I saw you. I keep replaying it, and it makes me sick.”

“I think about you every day. Sometimes I hate you for staying. Sometimes I hate myself for leaving you behind.”

The rawness of it struck Regulus like a physical blow. His grip on the notebook tightened as his gaze skimmed over more. Apologies, angry regrets, desperate confessions Sirius would never dare say aloud.

Regulus’s hands trembled as he shut the notebook, his jaw tight. He didn’t know how to feel. Angry, sad, something else entirely. But one thing was certain: Sirius hadn’t forgotten him.

By then why had he never attempted to talk to him at Hogwarts? Why not even try?

He placed the notebook back where he found it, careful not to disturb anything else, and returned to his bed. Sitting on the edge, he rubbed absently at his ribs, his mind racing. For the first time since arriving, he felt the weight of his anger begin to shift, though he wasn’t sure yet what it would settle into.

Regulus sat quietly on the edge of the bed, his fingers absently traced the edges of the notebook he’d just returned to the desk, but his mind was far away. The words in Sirius’s letters still echoed in his head, each sentence heavier than the last. For a long moment, he simply sat there, letting the quiet wash over him, letting the tension in his chest tighten with each thought.

Regulus wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with the information he’d gathered. Sirius’s feelings, his regret, the quiet ache that seemed to linger between them like a shadow. It was all too much to process. Too much to feel.

He was still struggling to place what had shifted between them. Why was it so hard to just let go of everything? The past. The pain. The choices they’d both made.

The door creaked open just a little, and Regulus’s gaze snapped to it, instinctively tensing. Sirius stood in the doorway, looking almost uncertain. His eyes flickered briefly toward Regulus before quickly looking away, his fingers tugging at the hem of his sleeve as if unsure whether to enter or leave.

“Can I come in?” Sirius asked, his voice quieter than usual, strained with the hesitation that was becoming all too familiar.

Regulus didn’t answer right away. He let the silence linger between them, almost as if he needed to decide what kind of interaction this would be. He was still wrestling with everything inside himself. Sirius’s words, the strange newness of this place, the unfamiliar warmth he’d been receiving from the Potters.

After a long moment, Regulus finally nodded, his voice tight but trying to be steady.

“Yeah.”

Sirius stepped into the room and shut the door behind him with a soft click, his posture still guarded, like he was trying to read the room, unsure of how to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with every passing second. His eyes flickered toward the desk, then back to Regulus.

Regulus didn’t move, just stared down at his hands, feeling the tension tighten in his shoulders. He wanted to say something. Wanted to ask questions, about the letters, about the past. But it was too much to start. Too much to unravel.

Sirius seemed to read the hesitation, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I was just, um… I don’t know. I wanted to check in, see how you’re doing.”

Regulus looked up at him then, a slight frown pulling at his lips, his thoughts still tangled. The sight of his brother standing there, so… out of place and yet somehow fitting, made his chest ache again. He swallowed thickly, his voice quieter than usual.

“I’m fine.”

It was a lie, but neither of them acknowledged it. Sirius shifted on his feet, hands jammed into his pockets as though he were trying to appear casual. It wasn’t working.

Regulus stared at the floor, the words from the letters still rattling around in his head.

The silence stretched between them again, thick and suffocating. Neither of them seemed sure how to proceed. Regulus’s eyes flicked to Sirius, then away. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to confront everything that was building between them… his anger, his confusion, his own fear of allowing someone close again.

Sirius took a step closer, his voice soft. “Look, I know things are… a lot right now. I’m not trying to push you, Reg. I just… I just want to help.”

Regulus could hear the unspoken “I’m sorry” in Sirius’s words, even if he didn’t say it directly. The weight of those three words hung between them, heavy and fragile even in their absence.

For a second, Regulus closed his eyes, letting the words sink in. He thought about everything… about the life he’d left behind, about the safety he’d never had, about the family he’d never been able to reach out to. But in this room, with Sirius standing so close, something inside of him softened, just a little.

He opened his eyes and met Sirius’s gaze, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know how this is supposed to work.” His voice was a little hoarse now, the vulnerability creeping in despite his best efforts.

Sirius’s eyes softened, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Regulus saw something like hope flicker behind them. “Neither do I.”

Regulus’s chest tightened again, and he quickly looked away, blinking back something unfamiliar rising in his throat. He didn’t let himself feel it. Not yet.

“Look, Reg. I know this is all weird. Being here. But, feel free to look around, use whatever you want. This place is yours too now. You don’t have to feel like… like you’re a guest here.”

Regulus froze, eyes wide with surprise. The words caught him off guard, like a cold draft running through him. He hadn’t expected to hear that from Sirius. Not after everything.

Regulus’ gaze flickered around the room. “You always hated when I went near your things.”

Sirius shifted, his eyes softening as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I guess I’ve changed. I… I didn’t realize how much until I had a family that didn’t make me feel like I was a complete outsider. The Potters, they made me see things differently. It’s not just about me anymore. It’s about… letting go of all that petty shit.”

Regulus stared at him, still processing. The change in Sirius was palpable, but it felt so new, so different from the brother he’d known.

“You’re different now,” Regulus said softly, almost to himself, before catching his brother’s gaze. “Different here.”

Sirius’s gaze flickered with something unspoken. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at Regulus as if trying to understand the weight behind his words. The silence felt like it stretched on too long.

Finally, Sirius exhaled, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “I don’t expect you to understand all of it, Reg. It’s a lot. But I want you to feel like you can… be here. Be part of it. You don’t have to feel like you’re walking on eggshells. Not here. Not with me.”

Regulus looked away, his fingers absently running over the edge of the desk, a knot in his chest that he didn’t know how to unravel. Part of him felt like he didn’t deserve this… this softness, this welcome. But there was a strange comfort in the words, too, and for the first time, he realized that maybe, just maybe, Sirius meant them.

Sirius didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, almost hesitantly, he asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

Regulus didn’t answer at first. The question hung in the air, suspended between them. He wasn’t sure what the right answer was.

Regulus let out a breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think I just need some time.”

Sirius nodded, understanding without needing any further explanation. “Alright,” he said softly. “We’re nearly done with the sewing room, shouldn’t be too much longer.”

And with that, Sirius turned, leaving the room as quietly as he’d entered, leaving Regulus to sit in the silence, trying to process everything that had just passed between them.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Regulus let out a slow breath, his mind still racing with questions, with memories, with the weight of what was to come.

The laughter from down the hall, Sirius and James joking, floated up to him like a distant memory of something he might have had once. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. There was something in their closeness, the ease with which they shared jokes, their loud voices mingling in the house, that he found foreign, yet oddly familiar. It was the sort of thing he might’ve had with Sirius before everything went wrong. And yet, here he was, separate, uncertain.

Restless, he wandered out of the room, his footsteps soft as he moved through the hallway. His eyes lingered on the walls, on the photos that decorated them.

Regulus’s hands traced the edge of the hallway as he wandered toward the staircase. He ventured through the halls, following an instinct he couldn’t explain, until he found himself in a small nook near the attic. There, he found a few family photos on a shelf. There were more of everyone, but this time, a photo of James caught his eye.

Something about it made Regulus reach out.

His fingers brushed the frame as he picked it up. It was a simple one, James laughing at something just out of the frame, his hair tousled, his eyes crinkled with a wide grin.

Regulus found himself staring at it for a moment longer than he expected, watching how James moved. There was something about him in this picture. So relaxed, so carefree. That made him pause. It must’ve been recent because James looked so… alive.

Regulus quickly set the photo back down, as if it had suddenly burned his fingertips. His gaze drifted around the small room, and he noticed a few old toys stacked in the corner, relics of a childhood long gone, maybe even forgotten. In the closet, some Quidditch gear caught his attention. A broomstick, some worn pads and he found himself gently running his fingers along the wood of the broom, as if he could feel the memory of a time before everything changed.

Before everything broke.

The muffled sound of voices tore through his reverie. James and Sirius. He heard them calling for him, and a strange sense of obligation tugged at him, pulling him towards them.

The sounds of James and Sirius’s playful chatter growing louder as he approached the sewing room. The words didn’t quite reach him until they called his name again, making him pause just outside the doorway. He took a steadying breath before stepping inside.

His eyes scanning the space. It was cozy, a perfect blend of warmth and practicality, with soft lighting and a bed already neatly made. A desk sat beside the window, and the shelves above it were filled with books that Regulus could almost immediately tell had been chosen with care. The room felt… safe, in a way that was still foreign to him.

“You’re welcome to make it your own,” Euphemia said, coming into the room, a soft smile on her face. “Put up pictures, change anything you want. Make it yours.”

Sirius, still chuckling, leaned against the wall. “Yeah, unlike me, you get to decorate it however you want. James and I still have to share a room.”

Euphemia raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You two chose to share a room, remember?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You think I’d willingly share a room with this slob?” James teased, grinning at Sirius, who rolled his eyes.

Regulus glanced at the two of them, noting the way their easy banter seemed to fill the room without effort. His gaze lingered on them for a moment longer than usual. It was so different from what he’d grown up with.

Euphmia rolled her eyes before turning back to regulus, “When we go out later in the week we can grab some things to decorate in here. Does that sound alright?”

Regulus hesitated, his gaze sweeping over the room once more. He had no idea what he might need to make it his own, but the idea of making changes to this space gave him a strange sense of ownership. “That… sounds good,” he said quietly, almost surprised at how easily the words came.

Sirius, still leaning against the wall, grinned at him. “We can come too, right?” he teased. “You know, to pick out some cool stuff for our room.”

Euphemia shot him a fond look, hands on her hips. “I’d like it to just be Regulus and I actually, dear.”

James let out a dramatic sigh, his mouth twisting into a playful pout. “Aw, come on! I was just starting to enjoy bonding time with Regulus. I’ve been waiting two years for this moment!”

Regulus caught himself almost laughing at the playful banter, the sound easing some of the tension in his chest. He glanced at the room again, feeling a surprising warmth. It was so… easy. Light. The way James and Sirius interacted, so comfortable with each other, and the way Euphemia had welcomed him with such patience. It was something Regulus had never experienced.

James gestured toward the space. “We hope you like it. It wasn’t exactly easy to clean this place up,” he said with a grin, giving a small nod toward the shelves and the small piles of clutter that had clearly been rearranged.

“Thank you,” Regulus finally said, his voice quieter now. He looked at Euphemia, who was standing near the door, smiling gently at him.

Her smile deepened, and she reached out, her hand brushing his shoulder. For the first time since he had arrived, Regulus didn’t flinch at the touch. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like an anchor, and for some reason, it made his chest tighten.

“You’re welcome, Regulus,” she said softly. “We’re happy to have you here. And James and Sirius, well, they did a good job with this room. Even if they were loud in the attic.”

At this, James burst into laughter, his face lighting up as he laughed at the memory.

“Well Sirius was attacked by a giant spider.”

Sirius furrowed his brows, and with a playful shove, he knocked his shoulder into James. “We were attacked. And you ran just as fast as I did.” he muttered, trying to sound more annoyed than he actually was.

But James was still grinning widely, the laughter still bubbling in his chest. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, mate.“

Euphemia raised an eyebrow at them, though her lips were still curled in a fond smile. “Boys,” she murmured, shaking her head at their antics, before turning back to Regulus. “I’m glad to see you’re settling in. Just don’t mind them. They’ll argue over anything.”

The room was quiet after everyone left to let him settle in. Regulus sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes flickering across the room. It was still new, but there was a weight to it, a quiet expectation he hadn’t quite figured out how to handle.

Regulus hesitated before standing, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar space. His hand ghosted over the edge of the desk, the polished wood smooth beneath his fingertips. A small pile of parchment and a quill rested there, as though someone had anticipated he might want to write.

He moved to the wardrobe, pulling it open to find hangers and shelves lined with space for his things, but he'd brought nothing with him. His fingertips brushed the fabric of the spare pajamas Euphemia had left folded neatly on the bottom shelf. He wondered if they’d even realized how little he had when he showed up at their door, battered and half-dead. Or maybe they had, and this was their way of quietly filling in the gaps.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Regulus traced the pattern stitched into the quilt. It was soft. Softer than anything he’d ever had at Grimmauld Place. He sank back against the pillows, the sensation of comfort so foreign it almost felt like a trap. He fidgeted with the corner of the blanket, the room too warm, too still, too… kind.

His mind wandered back to Grimmauld Place. To the cold, empty spaces and the heavy, oppressive silence that settled like dust over every room. To the hissed insults, the sharp crack of spells, and the way his parents’ faces twisted in hatred when they looked at him.

He swallowed hard, closing his eyes, but the memories flooded in anyway. His father’s scathing lectures about loyalty. His mother’s screams when he failed to meet her impossible standards. The unforgiving pain of dark curses meant to teach him obedience. And the worst, her voice, cruel and cutting, calling him worthless. Broken. A failure.

Regulus curled into himself, gripping the blanket like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the present. The ache in his chest felt unbearable, the weight of the past two years crashing down on him all at once. He stopped crying long ago, but he still felt it press against his ribs.

Chapter Text

July 13-14th

The days that followed Regulus’s arrival passed in an awkward blur.

On the second day, Regulus stayed hidden in the room Sirius and James had prepared for him. It was quiet, comforting in its way, but far too spacious for his liking. The empty spaces left too much room for thought, for memories. He spent the hours pacing, reading a bit from the books on the shelves, and staring out the window at the garden below.

James found him there in the afternoon, still in the room.

There was a light knock before the door creaked open slightly, James peeking his head in with a cautious smile. “Hey. Thought I’d check in… hope that’s alright?”

Regulus turned, stiff and guarded, his hand lingering on the windowsill. “What do you want?”

James stepped inside, but not too far, lingering by the door as if ready to retreat if he was unwelcome. He gave a light shrug. “You hadn’t come downstairs yet. Thought I’d see how you’re doing.”

Regulus didn’t reply, his gaze shifting back out the window. James lingered a moment, his eyes scanning Regulus. He looked so small in the big room, so impossibly tired, yet there was still something sharp in the way he held himself.

“How’s the arm?” James asked lightly, trying to keep his tone casual, though there was genuine concern behind it.

“I’m fine,” Regulus muttered, his voice curt, his gaze fixed firmly outside.

James nodded but didn’t leave. He leaned casually against the wall, giving Regulus space, but not enough to let him shut down entirely. The tension in the room was heavy, but James wasn’t about to give up so easily. “Do you need more healing potions? Or something? I could make you some tea. Something calming, maybe.”

That earned him a sharp look from Regulus, who turned his head just enough to glare. “I said I’m fine.”

James raised his hands in mock surrender, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “All right, all right. No tea.”

The silence stretched for a moment before James shifted, lowering his voice to something softer. “How’re you holding up, really?”

Regulus’s jaw tightened, his shoulders stiffening as he shrugged. “It’s… nice here,” he said finally, the words clipped and careful.

James noticed the slight hesitation, the way Regulus’s voice faltered for just a moment. He stepped forward, just a little, testing the waters. “I’m just worried, Regulus. I mean, when you showed up, you were—” He paused, searching for the right words. “You were in bad shape. I don’t think that’s something you can just walk away from.”

The comment made Regulus bristle. “Worry about yourself, Potter,” he snapped, though the sharpness felt like a defense more than anything else.

James grinned anyway, brushing off the jab with a casual wave of his hand. “Fair enough. But just so you know, your peace here has officially ended.” He smirked, leaning closer, his tone dipping into mock seriousness. “I don’t know if Sirius told you, but I’m pretty much insufferable.”

To his surprise, Regulus gave a small huff of something that might have been amusement, or maybe frustration. Either way, it was something.

James’s grin widened. “Ah, success,” he said with exaggerated triumph.

Regulus tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “What?”

James nudged him lightly on the shoulder, careful not to push too far. “I finally got you to crack a smile.”

“I’m not smiling,” Regulus muttered, but there was no real bite to his voice.

“Sure you’re not,” James said, his tone teasing but gentle. For a moment, the tension in the room seemed to ease, just a little.

Regulus didn’t pull away when James stepped up beside him, the two of them standing in silence for a moment. It wasn’t much, but it was something, an understanding, tentative and fragile, but real nonetheless.

Regulus glanced at him briefly, his voice quiet. “Thanks,” he murmured, the word surprising them both.

James blinked, then smiled. “You’re welcome.”

By the time James left, the door clicking softly shut behind him, Regulus felt the room was just a little less suffocating.

At dinnertime, he couldn’t avoid coming downstairs, but even then, he sat stiffly at the table, his shoulders tense. He murmured polite thanks when Euphemia passed him a dish, offering a soft, “It’s good, thank you,” when Fleamont asked how he liked the food.

Sirius tried to engage him, leaning forward with his usual energy. “You’ve been up in that room all day. Did you at least check out the garden? Mum’s been working on it for months, hasn’t she, James?”

Regulus glanced at Sirius briefly, his expression guarded. “No, I haven’t been outside,” he said, his tone neutral but not harsh.

“Well, maybe tomorrow,” Sirius said with a forced sort of brightness.

“It's nice out there,” James chimed in, his voice easy, almost as if sensing Sirius’s awkwardness and trying to smooth it over. “Good spot to think. Or not think, depending on what you’re after.” He grinned lightly, but Regulus only nodded, offering no response.

Euphemia, ever the gracious hostess, stepped in. “If there’s anything else you need, dear, just let me know.”

“Thank you,” Regulus said softly, his gaze briefly meeting hers before dropping back to his plate.

As the meal went on, the conversation continued around him, mostly between Sirius, James, and Fleamont. Regulus kept quiet, his focus on his food, though his eyes kept drifting to James without meaning to. James was… animated. Gesturing with his hands as he laughed at something Fleamont said. His grin was wide and unguarded, his hair was messy, but charming almost.

Regulus quickly averted his gaze when he realized he’d been staring, brushing it off as nothing, and kept his eyes firmly on his plate, avoiding Sirius’s gaze entirely.

The moment dinner was over, he pushed back his chair and stood, offering a polite, “Excuse me,” with a nod to Euphemia, before disappearing back into his room. The door shut behind him with quiet finality, leaving the dining room conversation to continue without him.

The third day was marginally better.

Regulus ventured downstairs in the afternoon for tea, hesitating in the doorway to the sitting room. Euphemia and Fleamont were seated on the sofa, chatting softly, their warmth filling the room in a way that made Regulus feel like he was intruding. Sirius was nowhere to be seen, but James was sprawled on the rug near the coffee table, scribbling something in a notebook.

James looked up at him and grinned, as though Regulus standing awkwardly in the doorway wasn’t the least bit strange. “Finally decided to grace us with your presence, huh? Thought you might be allergic to sunlight for a bit there.”

Regulus huffed softly, a half-smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth before it vanished. “I’m not allergic to sunlight,” he muttered, sitting stiffly in an armchair near the fireplace.

“Good to know,” James said, eyes sparkling. “Because I was just about to warn Mum that we’d need blackout curtains.”

Regulus’s lips twitched again, but before he could reply, Euphemia passed him a teacup. She handed it to him with a kind smile. “Here, dear. It’s still warm.”

“Thank you,” Regulus murmured, wrapping his hands around the cup. The warmth seeped into his cold fingers, grounding him.

James stretched out on the rug, his notebook momentarily abandoned. “Did Sirius ever tell you about the time he almost broke his leg climbing out of the window last summer? Mum caught him sneaking out to see some girl. He panicked and tried to shimmy down the drainpipe like an idiot.”

Regulus raised a brow, glancing down at him. “Let me guess, he didn’t make it.”

“Not even close,” James said with a laugh. “He got about halfway down before the pipe started creaking. He froze like a bloody statue. Mum was already in the garden waiting for him when he hit the ground.”

Regulus shook his head faintly, unable to hide the faint amusement flickering across his face. “That does sound like him.”

“Oh, it was brilliant,” James continued, clearly delighted. “He spent the rest of the week claiming the pipe was faulty and it wasn’t his fault. Tried to fix it himself and ended up knocking the whole thing loose. Dad was furious.”

“Sounds deserved,” Regulus said dryly, taking a cautious sip of his tea.

James grinned wider. “See? You’re smiling already. It’s good for you, Reg.”

Regulus let the words hang in the air, choosing not to argue. His gaze flicked back to James, taking in the warmth in his grin and the tousled mess of his hair. There was something strangely disarming about him. Something that Regulus couldn’t quite put into words but left him feeling both comfortable and unnerved all at once.

It was strange how easily James seemed to draw in attention, and how that attention seemed to rest so naturally on him. Or rather, it was just hard to ignore him.

As James launched into another story about Sirius’s disastrous attempt at cooking breakfast the previous week, Regulus found himself caught between listening and letting his mind wander. For the first time in days, the ache in his chest didn’t feel so sharp.

By the time the tea in his cup had gone cold, Regulus realized he’d been sitting there far longer than he’d intended. Somehow, James’s easy chatter had made the silence in his own head feel less heavy. And suddenly, he didn’t feel like he was drowning.

After tea, Regulus excused himself, murmuring something about wanting to read. Euphemia smiled warmly. “Of course, dear. I hope you find something interesting.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, standing with his teacup and saucer. He gave James a brief glance, noting the way the other boy’s grin softened into something less teasing and more understanding. It wasn’t pity, Regulus would have hated that, but something quieter, almost reassuring. He nodded stiffly and left the room.

The hours passed in a quiet haze. Regulus sat curled in one of the library’s overstuffed chairs, a book open in his lap. The Potters’ house had a warmth to it, not just in the physical sense, but in the way it felt lived-in. The creak of floorboards, the hum of voices from other rooms, the faint clinking of dishes being washed. It all felt so foreign compared to Grimmauld Place. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

By the time dinner was called, Regulus had managed to work through five chapters, though he couldn’t recall much of what he’d read. He placed the book on the nearest table and made his way to the dining room, where the smell of roasted chicken and fresh bread filled the air.

James was already seated, leaning back in his chair with one foot propped on the edge of the table. “Oi, get your feet down,” Sirius muttered, smacking his shin as he passed by to sit across from him.

“You’re such a nag,” James shot back, but he dropped his foot with a dramatic sigh. He glanced up as Regulus entered, flashing a grin. “Look who’s decided to grace us again. What are we, two for two now?”

Regulus rolled his eyes faintly, sitting down beside Euphemia. “I’m hardly keeping track.”

“Maybe you should. We could start a streak.”

Sirius smirked. “That’s his way of saying he missed you.”

Regulus ignored the comment, focusing instead on unfolding his napkin and placing it in his lap. Euphemia started passing dishes around the table, the soft clatter of plates and silverware filling the space.

James kept the conversation light, chatting about the village down the road and the small shop where they’d picked up supplies earlier that week. “The shopkeeper’s got this cat, big orange thing that looks like it runs the place. Nearly tripped over it twice while Mum was talking her ear off.”

“It’s called being polite,” Euphemia interjected, her tone fond. “Something you might want to try now and again.”

“I am polite!” James protested. “I said please when I asked her to move the cat!”

“That’s not quite the same thing, dear,” Euphemia replied, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.

Regulus managed a small smile at their banter.

Sirius, noticing the flicker of amusement, took his chance to speak. “How’s the library, Reg? Still reading boring old books?”

Regulus didn’t look up from his plate. “It’s fine,” he said curtly, spearing a piece of chicken with his fork.

Sirius blinked, his smile faltering. “Fine, huh? Anything worth reading?”

“No,” Regulus said flatly, taking a deliberate bite of his food.

James, sensing the tension, jumped in. “You’re missing out, mate. There’s some great stuff in there. I bet Mum’s got a few books on Quidditch tactics. Maybe we can dig them out later.”

Regulus gave a slight nod, his shoulders relaxing marginally. “Maybe.”

Sirius leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “You still practicing, Reg?”

Regulus finally glanced up at him, his expression cool. “I haven’t played in months. Haven’t had time.”

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but James cut him off. “He’s being modest,” he said quickly. “I’m sure he’d still wipe the pitch with both of us.”

Regulus shot James a brief, wry look, but it was gone in an instant. Euphemia, ever the peacemaker, turned the conversation toward lighter topics, asking Sirius about Remus and random plans for the summer.

When the meal ended and the plates were cleared, Euphemia touched Regulus’s shoulder lightly, he resisted the urge to flinch, “You did well tonight, dear. It’s nice having you with us.”

Regulus swallowed hard, nodding. He didn’t trust himself to respond.

Regulus excused himself and returned to his room. The house was quieter now, the muffled voices from downstairs fading into the background. He sank onto the edge of his bed, the soft mattress dipping under his weight.

Three days. That’s all it had been. Three days at the Potters’ house, and somehow, he felt both lighter and heavier than when he’d arrived. Lighter because this house wasn’t Grimmauld Place. It wasn’t filled with shadows and scorn, with curses lurking around every corner. This place had warmth, not just from the sun streaming through the windows, but from the people.

Regulus flopped on his bed, one arm draped over his eyes as if it could block out his thoughts. Sleep felt impossible. Every time he shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, the sheets tangled around his legs, making him feel more restless than before.

With a quiet sigh, he pushed himself upright, running a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as if he could tug the thoughts free.

He hated how forced it had felt with Sirius. Dinner had been stilted. Sirius trying too hard to talk to him, Regulus trying harder not to snap.

Every word they exchanged felt heavy, like a step on unstable ground that might crack beneath them at any moment. Regulus didn’t even know what he wanted from Sirius. Forgiveness? An apology? He wasn’t sure, and the uncertainty was maddening.

But then there was James. James, who had no baggage with him. No sharp edges or ghosts lurking in his words. James didn’t treat him like he was fragile or dangerous, didn’t act like he was waiting for him to explode. He met all of Regulus’ jabs with humor and ease, instead of being offended as most people tended to be.

James just… was.

Effortless. Charming. And infuriatingly easy to be around. Regulus couldn’t decide if he liked him or hated him for it. Maybe both.

His fingers tightened briefly in his hair, and he let out another quiet sigh, dropping his hands into his lap. He didn’t know what he wanted from any of this… his brother, the Potters, this strange house that already felt more like home than Grimmauld Place ever had.

Regulus glanced around the room, his gaze landing on the neat desk, the armchair in the corner, the cardigan Euphemia had left for him earlier. It felt safe here. He wasn’t sure if he liked that or if it scared him more.

He liked Euphemia and Fleamont. They were warm, kind, and disarmingly normal. He wasn’t used to that. But he couldn’t shake the fear, the gnawing thought that this was temporary. That his parents would find a way to reach him, to drag him back. They always found a way.

His chest tightened, and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, standing abruptly. He couldn’t stay still. He couldn’t let himself think too much about it, about how good it felt to be here or how much he wanted to stay.

His body felt restless, and he hated the quiet of the room now. Too much time alone with his thoughts was dangerous.

He glanced out the window, his gaze catching on a figure moving in the backyard.

Regulus frowned, leaning closer to the window. James was walking toward the shed, broom in hand. For some reason, the sight made Regulus hesitate.

Before he could think better of it, he grabbed the cardigan Euphemia had left for him and slipped out of the room, his feet moving quietly down the stairs.

Regulus stepped out into the cool night air, pulling the cardigan tighter around him. The sky was clear, the stars brilliant against the inky blackness. He stood on the edge of the back garden, just out of view of the shed, his bare feet brushing the dewy grass.

James was moving with an easy confidence, silhouetted in the moonlight as he propped his broom against the door. Regulus didn’t say anything. He hadn’t intended to be seen, just to watch. There was something steady about James, something grounded in the way he moved.

But, of course, James saw him.

“Reg?” James called softly, his voice warm and curious rather than accusatory. He stepped closer, his broom slung casually over his shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Regulus stiffened, caught off guard. He’d hoped to remain unnoticed, but now James was walking toward him, his hazel eyes bright even in the dim light.

“No,” Regulus admitted after a beat, his voice low. He kept his gaze fixed on the grass, unwilling to meet James’s eyes.

“Yeah, me neither,” James said lightly, though there was something softer in his tone now. He studied Regulus for a moment before holding up his broom. “Fancy a fly?”

Regulus blinked, finally looking up. “A fly?”

James grinned. “You know, up in the air, wind in your hair, forgetting about everything for a bit? It’s therapeutic.”

Regulus hesitated, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, come on,” James coaxed, taking a step closer. “It’s just us out here. No one’s watching, no one’s judging. It’ll feel good.”

Regulus glanced past James, toward the open field that stretched out beyond the garden. The idea of flying, a part of him missed it. It had been so long since he’d let himself do anything just for the sake of it. But he wasn’t sure he remembered how to just… be.

James must have noticed his hesitation because he held out the broom, a small, encouraging smile on his face. “You don’t have to do anything fancy. Or, if you don’t want to, you can just keep me company.”

Something about James’s smile made Regulus relent. It wasn’t pushy or mocking… just genuine. Quietly, he nodded.

James’s grin widened. “Brilliant.”

The broom felt familiar in Regulus’s hands, and he mounted it with a practiced ease that surprised even him with the way he felt. He followed James into the air, the cool wind brushing against his face and tugging at his cardigan.

James flew ahead, circling lazily before slowing to glide alongside Regulus. “See? Not so bad.”

Regulus gave a small, noncommittal hum, his grip on the broom handle still a little too tight.

“You know,” James said after a moment, “I used to do this all the time when I was a kid. Flying at night. My mum used to yell at me, saying I’d run into a tree or something. But I don’t know… it always felt different at night. Calmer.”

Regulus glanced at him. James’s face was soft in the moonlight, his hair wild as ever, but there was an openness in his expression that made Regulus’s chest tighten.

“Did Sirius ever tell you about the time he dared me to try and do a loop around a full-grown oak? Nearly cracked my head open.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure that was entirely his fault.”

James laughed, the sound low and warm. “Oh, absolutely. He’s a menace, your brother.”

The corners of Regulus’s mouth twitched, and James’s eyes lit up.

“There it is again,” James said triumphantly.

“What?”

“That almost-smile. You should let it happen more often.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, though there was no real heat in it. He looked away, focusing on the stars. The quiet stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Why are you doing this?” Regulus asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Doing what?”

“This.” Regulus gestured vaguely between them. “Being… nice to me.”

James tilted his head, studying him. “Why not?”

“Because you don’t know me,” Regulus said sharply. “And I don’t need your pity.”

James didn’t flinch. Instead, he smiled, gentle, but with a hint of something Regulus couldn’t name. “I don’t pity you, Reg. I just… I don’t know. I want to know you.”

Regulus blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in James’s voice.

“I know I can be annoying,” James continued, his grin returning, “but I’m not exactly known for giving up on people.”

Regulus’s lips parted, but no words came out. For a moment, he found himself staring. At the way James’s hair caught the moonlight, at the easy confidence in his posture, at the warmth in his eyes.

He looked away quickly, his heart pounding in a way he didn’t entirely understand.

James, oblivious, or maybe not, nudged his broom closer. “You’re not alone anymore. You don’t have to be.”

Regulus swallowed hard, his fingers tightening on the handle. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he simply nodded.

James’s smile softened, and for the first time, Regulus thought maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all a mistake.

Regulus followed James higher into the night sky, the chill in the air biting at his skin but invigorating all the same. His movements were hesitant at first, each shift of the broom careful and deliberate, but the longer he flew, the more natural it began to feel. The weight in his chest seemed to ease, if only a little.

“Not bad,” James called out as he flew ahead, turning to grin at Regulus over his shoulder. “But I thought the youngest Black was supposed to be talented on a broom.”

Regulus arched a brow, tilting his broom slightly to glide past James with surprising precision. “Is that supposed to be a challenge?”

James’s grin widened. “Oh, it’s definitely a challenge.” Without waiting for an answer, he shot forward, his broom cutting through the air like an arrow.

For a moment, Regulus hesitated. Then, something unexpected surged through him. A spark of competition, a flicker of who he used to be before the weight of his family and the war crushed him. He leaned forward, urging his broom into a faster pace, the wind whipping through his hair as he chased after James.

James glanced back, his laughter ringing out when he saw Regulus gaining on him. “There we go!” he shouted. “Knew you had it in you!”

Regulus didn’t respond, too focused on catching him. They raced across the field, their brooms darting and weaving through the night air. James performed a tight spiral, his body moving with an ease that made it look effortless. Regulus watched for a moment before doing the same maneuver, his broom dipping and twisting in a way that made his heart pound, but he pulled it off.

“Not bad, Reg!” James called, his voice full of approval.

Regulus allowed himself a small smirk, the rush of adrenaline making him bold. “I’ll do better than ‘not bad’.”

He dove sharply, pulling up at the last second to shoot into the sky in a near-vertical climb. The maneuver was sharp and clean, and when he leveled out, he glanced at James, a flicker of pride in his expression.

James blinked, snapping out of whatever trance he’d fallen into, and grinned. “Alright, I admit it, you’re better than I thought. But I’m still faster.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of the broom beneath him, the air rushing past, and the strange sense of freedom he hadn’t felt in years.

They slowed after a while, their brooms circling lazily above the field. James drifted closer, his hazel eyes bright with excitement. “You’ve got to admit, that was fun.”

“It was… acceptable,” Regulus said, though the slight curve of his lips betrayed him.

James chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t lie, you liked it.”

Regulus rolled his eyes again but didn’t bother denying it.

“Race you to the tree line and back!” James yelled, before taking off again. This time, Regulus didn’t hesitate.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he actually laughed, a real, unrestrained laugh that surprised even himself. It wasn’t loud or long, but it still felt good.

James, who was trailing just behind him for once, caught the sound and nearly lost control of his broom. It was clear, soft, and full of life. A sound James realized he hadn’t even known he wanted to hear until now.

When they finally landed, both slightly breathless, Regulus’s cheeks were pink from the cold, or maybe from the exertion, James wasn’t sure.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” James said, grinning as he leaned his broom against the garden fence.

Regulus shrugged, running a hand through his wind-mussed hair. “I’m just better than you, Potter. That’s not surprising.”

James laughed, flopping down onto the grass and patting the spot beside him. “Come on. Take a load off.”

Regulus hesitated before slowly lowering himself onto the ground, his movements measured as always. The cardigan he wore did little to block the evening chill, and he absently rubbed at his ribs, the dull ache still lingering, though the potions had helped. Flying put a strain on the tender muscles.

The two of them lay side by side, the grass cool beneath them and the stars brilliant above. For a while, they were silent, just catching their breath and letting the quiet settle around them.

James tilted his head back to look at the sky. “You know all the constellations, don’t you?”

Regulus turned his head to glance at him, surprised by the question. “Of course I do.”

“Go on, then. Impress me.” James said, grinning at him.

Regulus huffed but looked up, raising a hand to point. “There. That’s Orion. And over there, Canis Major. Sirius.” His voice softened on the last word. “The brightest star in the sky.”

James turned his head to look at Regulus instead of the stars. There was something about the way Regulus’s voice had changed, the way his expression seemed both wistful and guarded drew his attention.

Regulus continued tracing the constellations, his movements precise but almost absent-minded, as if the stars were the only things grounding him. “That one,” he murmured, pointing again, “is Andromeda. And over there is Cassiopeia.”

James sat up slightly, his brow furrowed as he squinted. “They all just look like random dots to me.”

Regulus turned his head, arching a brow at him. “You’re not looking properly.”

“Then help me,” James said, grinning.

Regulus hesitated for a moment before grabbing his wand and murmuring a soft spell under his breath. Shimmering lines appeared, connecting the stars to outline the shapes, glowing faintly in the darkness.

“There. Now you can see.”

James stared up at the now clear pictures of the constellations, his expression softer now, almost reverent. “That’s brilliant.”

“It’s not difficult,” Regulus said quietly, lowering his hand. “Just observation and patience.”

James tilted his head to look at him, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m not great at either of those, but I’ll take your word for it.”

Regulus huffed softly, as he turned his gaze back to the stars, but the cool night air sent a shiver down his spine, and he rubbed his arms absently, curling his toes against the chill of the grass.

James noticed instantly. He didn’t comment, didn’t ask if Regulus was cold, he simply pulled his wand from his pocket and cast a warming charm over him.

The warmth spread over Regulus like a soft blanket, sinking into his skin. But it wasn’t just the charm. It was the magic itself, James’s magic, wrapping around him in a way that felt… comforting. Safe. He tensed slightly, caught off guard by the feeling, and his chest ached faintly with something he couldn’t quite name.

“There,” James said casually, tucking his wand away. “Better?”

Regulus didn’t look at him, his voice quieter than before. “Yes. Thank you.”

The unexpected kindness of the gesture, the fact that James didn’t ask or even think twice, he just did it, made something clench painfully in Regulus’s chest.

James hesitated for a moment, then asked, his tone soft and curious, “What’s your favorite constellation?”

Regulus looked at him, surprised by the question, and for a moment, he was quiet, as if considering it. “Lyra,” he said finally. “It’s small, and it’s not as bright as the others, but… I don’t know. I like it.”

James nodded thoughtfully, then leaned back slightly, meeting Regulus’ gaze. “Can you show me?”

There was something in the way he asked, the almost innocent curiosity in his eyes, that made Regulus’s heart flip. He glanced away, warmth creeping up his neck, and took a second to scope it out. After a beat, he grabbed his wand and traced the constellation with it, making it glow like he had the others.

“It’s a bit overlooked,” Regulus muttered, his voice softer, “less noticeable.”

James smiled, sincerity in his gaze as he looked at Regulus. “Well, if it’s your favorite, it must be important.”

The words hit Regulus harder than he expected. His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t quite find his footing. He turned his gaze back to the stars, but the quiet weight of the words lingered in his chest. Along with the warmth that surrounded him now despite the chill of the night air. The prickle of James’s magic against his skin was almost grounding against the onslaught of thoughts that plagued him.

Regulus dropped his hand back to his side, staring at the stars again. “You know,” he continued, his voice softer, “they named us after stars because they thought we were meant to shine. But stars burn out eventually. They collapse.”

James frowned, the weight of Regulus’s words settling between them. “Maybe,” he said carefully, “but not all of them. Some of them keep burning. And some of them, even when they collapse, leave something behind. A light, or… I don’t know. A legacy.”

Regulus turned his head to look at him, his gray eyes searching. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but then he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

James smiled, relieved that he hadn’t said the wrong thing. He wanted to lighten the mood again, but he couldn’t stop himself from studying Regulus’s face. The sharp angles softened by the moonlight, the way his hair framed his pale features, the slight furrow in his brow that never seemed to fully disappear. James found himself wanting to smooth it.

“You’ve got that look again,” Regulus said, his voice low.

James blinked. “What look?”

“Like you’re trying to figure me out.”

James grinned sheepishly, lying back down and folding his hands behind his head. “Maybe I am.”

Regulus didn’t respond, but his lips twitched, just barely.

James turned his gaze back to the stars, but he couldn’t quite stop himself from sneaking another glance at Regulus out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t explain it, not fully, but there was something about Regulus. Something quieter, softer, and more deliberate than Sirius that made James want to stay close. To protect him.

And maybe, James thought as he listened to Regulus quietly naming more constellations, he didn’t really mind that.

Regulus walked beside James as they headed back toward the house, their brooms slung over their shoulders. The cool night air felt softer now, less biting, as if the evening had wrapped them in its quiet embrace. Neither of them spoke much, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence.

James gave a yawn, grinning lazily. “That was good, wasn’t it? Cleared the cobwebs out.”

Regulus nodded, his gaze lingering on James for a beat longer than he intended. “I suppose it was… nice.”

James chuckled, bumping Regulus’s shoulder lightly. “There you go again with the high praise. Don’t go inflating my ego too much, Black.”

Regulus huffed a quiet laugh, though he looked away quickly. They reached the back door of the Potters’ house, the warm glow from the kitchen spilling out into the night. Regulus felt the chill more sharply now, not from the air, but from the sudden absence of James’s easy energy.

James opened the door, stepping inside and holding it open for Regulus. “You heading up, or are you going to stand here looking moody for a bit?”

Regulus hesitated, one hand gripping his broom tightly. The warmth of the house hit him immediately, a stark contrast to the drafty chill of Grimmauld. He glanced at James, who was leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes still light despite the late hour.

“I suppose I’ll go up,” Regulus said finally, stepping inside. The idea of returning to his room felt strangely heavy now, though he couldn’t say why.

“Night, then,” James said, giving him a small, lopsided smile. “Sleep well.”

Regulus nodded, but as he climbed the stairs, he realized he didn’t really want to leave James’s presence. There was something grounding about it, something warm and unshakably comforting.

It was no wonder Sirius liked him so much, he thought bitterly. Of course Sirius would find a home here, with someone like James.

When Regulus reached his room, he paused in the doorway, his hand hovering over the knob. The room was quiet, the faint sounds of everyone settling in for the night drifting in.

Regulus set his broom against the wall and walked to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He touched the blanket, running his fingers over the soft fabric before sitting down.

He hadn’t even realized how tired he was until he sank into the bed, the weight of the day catching up with him. As his head hit the pillow, his thoughts drifted back to the sky, to the sound of James’s laughter, and the way the world had seemed a little less heavy up there.

For the first time in longer than he could remember, Regulus felt something close to peace. He closed his eyes, and for once, sleep came easily.

Chapter Text

July 15th

The sun streamed through the windows of the living room. Sirius sat sprawled in an armchair, his legs draped lazily over one side, flipping through a Quidditch magazine. He glanced up when Regulus entered, his younger brother looking more rested than he had the last few days.

“Morning,” Sirius said, though his tone wasn’t exactly warm.

“Morning,” Regulus replied curtly, making his way toward the kitchen for tea.

Sirius watched him, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You seem… chipper. Did someone bring you breakfast in bed or something?”

Regulus stiffened, pausing mid-step. “I’m fine, Sirius. Not that it’s any of your concern.”

Sirius set the magazine down with a sigh, standing up. “You’re fine? That’s it?”

Regulus turned, his expression already darkening. “Don’t start, Sirius. Not today.”

“No, I think today’s a good day to start,” Sirius snapped, stepping closer. “All I get is icy stares and one-word answers. But James takes you out for one night, and suddenly you’re—what? Comfortable? Friendly?”

Regulus’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t I?” Sirius’s voice rose, his frustration bubbling over. “You keep everyone at arm’s length, playing the victim like it’s your bloody birthright, but you don’t even try. Not with me.”

“Try?” Regulus’s voice was sharp, his gray eyes flashing. “Try to do what, Sirius? Pretend the last two years didn’t happen? Pretend you didn’t leave me behind to fend for myself while you ran off to play hero with your new family?”

Sirius froze, his face paling.

“I stayed,” Regulus continued, his voice shaking now. “I stayed, and I paid for it. You didn’t even look back. Do you know what they did to me? What I went through after you left?”

The room fell silent, the weight of Regulus’s words hanging heavy in the air. Sirius opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Regulus’s voice dropped, quieter now but no less fierce. “I don’t need your guilt, Sirius. And I don’t need you pretending to care now just because you feel bad. Take your pity and fuck off.”

Sirius took a step back, his expression unreadable. “I—I don’t…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “Forget it.”

He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Regulus standing alone in the quiet.

Regulus’s hands were trembling, his chest tight, but he didn’t move. The echoes of their argument lingered, and for a moment, all he could do was breathe.

He heard the soft click of Euphemia’s heels before he saw her enter, her expression warm and steady as she took in the scene. Sirius was gone, the tension in the air unmistakable.

“Regulus, dear,” she said softly, crossing the room to him. Her voice had a calming effect, like a warm blanket against a winter chill. “Are you alright?”

He nodded stiffly, unwilling to meet her gaze.

Euphemia gave him a small, understanding smile. She reached out, her hand light as a feather on his shoulder. “It’ll get better,” she said, her tone firm with the weight of certainty. “These things take time, but they do warm up. Just like tea.”

Regulus glanced at her, surprised by her simple, comforting words. They weren’t flowery or dramatic… just matter-of-fact in a way that felt oddly reassuring.

“We’ll be heading out soon,” she added gently. “Think you’ll be ready to leave in about fifteen minutes?”

Regulus nodded again, this time more confidently. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Euphemia or Effie is alright, dear,” she said fondly, patting his shoulder lightly before heading for the door.

Euphemia found Sirius out in the garden, pacing like a caged lion. He was muttering under his breath, his hands raking through his hair. She watched him for a moment before calling out gently.

“Sirius?”

He froze, glancing over his shoulder. His expression was tight, his usual bravado stripped away. “Mum, I don’t really—”

“I know,” she interrupted softly, stepping closer. “But I need you to listen for a moment.”

Sirius huffed, crossing his arms like a petulant child. Euphemia smiled inwardly at how much he reminded her of the boy he’d been when he first came here, angry and hurting.

“You care for him, don’t you?” she asked gently, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

Sirius blinked, caught off guard. “What kind of question is that? Of course I care about him—he’s my brother.”

“Then why are you so afraid to show it?”

“I’m not—” he began, but the words faltered. He looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s not that simple.”

“Nothing with family ever is,” Euphemia said, her tone kind but firm. She stepped closer, tilting her head slightly to meet his downcast gaze. “But you can’t expect him to know how you feel if all he hears is frustration and blame.”

Sirius let out a bitter laugh. “He blames me, Mum. For everything. And he’s not wrong.”

Euphemia placed a hand on his arm, her touch steady and grounding. “Sirius, you’ve been carrying that guilt for years. But you can’t go back and change what’s happened. All you can do now is show him that you’re here—that you’re not going anywhere. It’s only been a couple of days.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tightening. “It’s just… I don’t know how to reach him. He’s so different now. I don’t even know who he is anymore.”

“Then take the time to get to know him again,” she said simply. “He’s here now, Sirius. That’s what matters.”

For a moment, Sirius was silent, his face unreadable. Then his shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath. “I’m trying. I really am.”

“I know, darling,” she said, her voice softening. She reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand. “And that’s all you can do.”

Sirius looked at her, his eyes suspiciously bright, but he didn’t let the tears fall. Euphemia smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’ve got a good heart, Sirius. Don’t forget that.”

He gave her a tight nod, his throat too tight to speak.

Euphemia pulled back, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she stepped away. “Now, I’d better get ready. We’re heading out in a bit, and I don’t want Regulus thinking I’ve left him behind.”

She paused as she reached the door, turning back to Sirius. “And Sirius? Maybe take it easy on him. Let him come to you.”

He nodded again, his lips pressing into a thin line.

As Euphemia walked back inside, she passed James in the hallway, his broomstick still propped against the wall from the night before. He looked up from where he was adjusting his jumper, his gaze questioning.

“How’s it going?” he asked lightly, but his tone held an edge of concern.

Euphemia gave him a knowing look, “Focus on Sirius today. He needs you.”

James straightened slightly, giving her a small nod in return. “Got it,” he murmured.

Euphemia smiled, patting his arm as she continued on her way.

James watched her go, his brow furrowing thoughtfully.

               *   ~   *   ~   *

Sirius sat on the edge of the couch, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he stared at the empty fireplace. He’d been like this for the better part of an hour, brooding, silent, and restless. His fingers toyed absently with the edge of his sleeve, his expression a complicated mix of frustration and something softer, almost unspoken.

James entered the room, his footsteps light but deliberate as he carried a deck of Exploding Snap cards in one hand. He tossed them onto the coffee table with a loud clap, breaking the quiet.

“All right, Pads,” James said, dropping onto the armchair across from him. “You’ve got that look on your face again. The one that says, ‘I’m overthinking everything and need my best mate to remind me I’m still capable of having fun.’”

Sirius glared half-heartedly at him. “Not in the mood, Prongs.”

“Perfect,” James said cheerfully, starting to shuffle the cards. “Because I’ve decided you’re playing anyway.”

Sirius huffed, slumping further into the couch. “What are you even doing?”

“Saving you from yourself,” James replied, expertly flipping the cards in his hands. “And possibly saving me from dying of boredom while Mum and your brother have their little shopping adventure.”

Sirius stiffened slightly at the mention of Regulus, but James pretended not to notice, continuing to set up the game with exaggerated flair.

“Come on,” James said, sliding a few cards toward Sirius. “Exploding Snap waits for no man.”

Despite himself, Sirius picked up the cards, his lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smile. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

“Absolutely,” James said, grinning. “But you love me in spite of that.”

They played for a while, the game breaking the tension bit by bit. Sirius’s initial reluctance gave way to quiet competitiveness, and soon enough, he was muttering curses under his breath every time James managed to blow up his stack of cards.

When the game ended, with James smugly victorious, Sirius leaned back, a little more at ease.

“Feel better?” James asked, shuffling the cards again but not starting a new game.

Sirius shrugged. “A bit.”

James raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “So, what’s the deal? You’ve been sulking all morning. Is this about Reggie?”

Sirius tensed again, but this time he didn’t deflect. “I don’t know,” he admitted after a pause. “I’m… happy he’s here. I wanted him here for years. But now that he is, I—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair. “I feel like I don’t know him anymore. And it’s… bloody complicated.”

James stayed quiet, letting Sirius work through his thoughts.

“I missed him,” Sirius continued, his voice quieter now. “But it’s like… he’s warming up to everyone else, but with me, it’s different. There’s this wall, you know? I can feel it.”

“Have you tried talking to him?” James asked gently.

Sirius snorted. “Talking’s never been our strong suit. We were raised to compete, not connect. And now… I don’t know. I heard him laugh last night, with you. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

James smiled softly at that, clapping Sirius on the shoulder. “You won’t ruin anything, mate. You’re his brother. He might not know how to deal with that right now, but he needs you, even if he doesn’t say it. Its only been four days, these things take time. I’m surprised he even left his room this soon to be honest.”

Sirius looked down, his expression troubled. “You think so?”

“I know so,” James said firmly. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Regulus… he’s hurt, Sirius. I think we both know that. And mending something like that takes time. He’s got a lot to figure out, and we don’t even know half of what’s weighing on him. But he’s here. That means something.”

Sirius was quiet for a long moment, staring at the table.

“What did you two talk about last night?” he asked eventually, his tone guarded.

James hesitated, then decided to be honest. “At first? Not much. He mostly avoided me until I dragged him into flying. Got him to smile, even laugh. Properly, I mean. Not in a ‘Black family sneer’ kind of way. It was… good.”

Sirius’s lips twitched slightly, almost a smile. “He’s always been good on a broom. Quick, sharp. Better instincts than most.”

“He was hesitant at first,” James said, leaning forward. “But he got into it. I think it was the first time he’s really let himself relax in… who knows how long.”

Sirius nodded, a faint shadow crossing his face. “He was always the cautious one. Me? I was the reckless idiot who ran off and left him to deal with the fallout.”

“Oi,” James said sharply, snapping Sirius out of his spiral. “Don’t start that. You’ve got time to make it right.”

Sirius sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Easier said than done.”

“Sure,” James said, grinning. “But when have we ever done anything the easy way?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but his expression softened.

James leaned forward again, his tone serious now. “He misses you, Sirius. He might not know how to deal with everything that’s happened, but you’re his brother. That bond doesn’t just go away.”

Sirius nodded, the words settling over him. “I’ll try,” he said quietly.

“That’s all you can do,” James replied, clapping him on the shoulder again.

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence. Then Sirius glanced at James. “You think he’ll be alright?”

James thought about it for a moment before answering. “I think he’s got a long way to go. But he’s here, with us. That’s a damn good start.”

Sirius nodded, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Yeah. It is.”

He sprawled across the sofa, his bad mood absent, replaced by something softer, though the occasional frown flickered across his face.

James shuffled a deck of Exploding Snap cards lazily, glancing over at Sirius with a grin.

“You know, Padfoot,” James said, his voice teasing, “if you keep sulking like that, I might mistake you for someone who’s thinking. Dangerous territory.”

Sirius rolled his eyes but smirked. “It’s not sulking. It’s resting. I’ve had a taxing morning.”

“Uh-huh. Sitting in one spot and glaring at people is so exhausting.”

“Some of us have mastered the art of brooding, Potter. You wouldn’t understand.”

James laughed, tossing a card at Sirius’s head. It bounced harmlessly off his hair. “Well, Master Brooder, I think you’re losing your touch. You haven’t glared at me in at least—” he checked an imaginary watch—“two minutes.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Sirius muttered, though his lips twitched.

James leaned forward, shuffling the cards again. “He’ll come around.” He said simply, knowing where his best friend's head was at.

Sirius looked doubtful but didn’t argue.

“Speaking of coming around—” James grinned as the sound of the front door opening reached them. “Looks like our wayward Black is back.”

Regulus stepped into the living room, carrying a bag and looking… brighter. There was something softer about him a looseness in his shoulders, a hint of color in his cheeks. Euphemia followed behind, her smile warm as she placed a hand on Regulus’s back.

“We’re back,” she announced. “And I dare say, we’ve had a successful outing.”

Sirius sat up, his expression carefully neutral as he looked at his brother. “You survive, Reggie?”

Regulus’s lips twitched at the nickname, but for once, he didn’t snap at it. “Barely,” he said, holding up the bag. “She wouldn’t let me leave without half the shop.”

Euphemia clicked her tongue. “Nonsense. He barely let me spoil him.” She winked at Sirius and James, adding, “But he did pick out a very nice jumper.”

Regulus pulled the jumper halfway out of the bag, a soft, dark blue knit. He hesitated, glancing at Sirius as if bracing for a remark.

But Sirius surprised him. “It suits you,” he said simply.

Regulus blinked, thrown off by the lack of teasing, but nodded slightly. “Thanks.”

Euphemia beamed at both of them. “I’ll leave you boys to it. Regulus, you did wonderfully today. Sirius, don’t let him sneak off before dinner.” She ruffled Sirius’s hair lightly before heading out of the room.

James clapped his hands together, breaking the silence that threatened to settle. “Alright, gentlemen. Now that the serious shopping talk is over, anyone up for a game?” He gestured to the deck of cards. “Exploding Snap? Loser has to do dishes tonight.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “Does that line usually work on people?”

James grinned. “Only on the ones with good taste.”

To his surprise, Regulus smirked faintly.

Sirius leaned forward, grabbing the deck. “You’re on, Potter. Reggie, you playing?”

Regulus hesitated, then nodded. “Sure”

The game was chaotic, filled with James’s over-the-top commentary and Sirius’s attempts at sabotage. Regulus mostly watched at first, letting James and Sirius bicker over the rules, but eventually, he started joining in, pointing out when Sirius was cheating or quietly reminding James when it was his turn.

Sirius caught Regulus’s faint laugh at one of James’s ridiculous accusations, and for a moment, he froze. It wasn’t the harsh, bitter sound Sirius was used to. It was quiet, almost shy, but genuine.

“Merlin, you actually do have a sense of humor,” Sirius said, his voice light.

Regulus gave him a look but didn’t respond, his lips still curved faintly.

Sirius leaned back, glancing at Regulus. “You, uh… seem like you had a good time. With Mum.”

Regulus shrugged, but there was no edge to it. “I did. She’s… nice.”

Sirius didn’t press further, but James clapped him on the shoulder as if to say, See? Progress.

“Right,” James said, standing. “I’ll let you two catch up.” He left the room with a parting grin, leaving the brothers alone.

Sirius hesitated, then cleared his throat. “So… what else did you pick out?”

Regulus paused, then reached into the bag again. “Warm socks. Euphemia insisted.”

Sirius actually laughed, shaking his head. “Of course she did.”

For the first time, the silence between them felt less heavy.

The room fell quiet for a moment after James left, but it wasn’t the heavy silence that so often hung between Sirius and Regulus. It was almost… tentative.

Sirius shifted in his seat, fingers drumming idly on the arm of the sofa. He looked over at Regulus, who was carefully folding the jumper back into the bag.

“The Potters, huh?” Sirius said, breaking the quiet. “They’re… different, aren’t they?”

Regulus glanced up, his expression unreadable. “They are.” He paused, then added, almost hesitantly, “I can see why you like it here so much.”

Sirius’s mouth twitched into a half-smile, but there was something guarded in his eyes. “They’re good people. Took me in when they didn’t have to. Treated me like I was one of their own. It’s—it’s not something I was used to.”

Regulus nodded slowly. “I get that now.” His fingers stilled on the bag. “I didn’t understand before. Why you left. But I think… I do now.”

Sirius’s smile faded slightly, and his shoulders tensed. “I didn’t want to leave you,” he said, his voice quieter. “But staying there… it was killing me, Reggie.”

Regulus didn’t respond right away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I know,” he said finally, his voice low. “I just—” He stopped, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

The air thickened, the old tension threatening to resurface. But Sirius, for once, refused to let it take hold. He cleared his throat, leaning forward.

“Anyway,” he said, his tone lighter, “I’m glad you’re here now. They’re glad, too. Mum’s already planning to fatten you up with every meal, and James—well, he’s James. Can’t help but charm everyone.”

That earned him the faintest hint of a smirk from Regulus.

“Speaking of James,” Sirius continued, leaning back again, “we were talking earlier about going flying. You know, once you were back. Thought it might be nice to have all three of us out there for a bit.”

Regulus looked up at him, something wary in his expression. “You… want me to come?”

“Yeah, why not?” Sirius said, a bit too casually. “You don’t have to, of course, but… I think it’d be good for you. Clear your head a bit.”

Regulus huffed softly, the closest he’d come to a laugh in Sirius’s presence so far. “I’ll think about it,” he said, his tone noncommittal, but there was no sharpness to it.

Sirius grinned. “That’s all I ask.”

                *   ~   *   ~   *

“Alright,” James said, stopping abruptly. “We’re not just going to stroll out here like a bunch of old wizards. Let’s make this a bit more fun.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

James smirked. “Simple. One round of broom tag. First one to tap the old oak tree over there wins.”

Sirius groaned. “Broom tag? Are we twelve?”

“Scared you’ll lose, Pads?” James shot back, his grin widening. “What’s the matter? Too slow these days?”

“I’ll wipe the floor with you,” Sirius retorted, mounting his broom. He turned to Regulus. “What about you, Reggie? Think you’ve got what it takes to keep up?”

Regulus tilted his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “What do I get when I win?”

James laughed. “When? Confident, are we?”

“Answer the question, Potter,” Regulus replied smoothly, his tone teasing but sharp.

James considered, his gaze flicking to Regulus’s steady one. “Fine. Winner picks the loser’s punishment. Within reason, of course.”

Regulus smirked, mounting his broom. “Deal.”

“And when I win,” Sirius added, shooting a pointed look at James, “you’re cleaning my boots for a month.”

James laughed as he swung a leg over his broom. “Dream on, Pads. Alright, gentlemen, let’s play fair. No cheap shots. Ready?”

The three of them kicked off simultaneously, soaring into the air. The wind rushed past, cool and exhilarating, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Regulus felt something close to freedom.

Sirius was in the lead at first, but James cut in front with an easy, practiced twist, laughing over his shoulder. “Getting slow, Pads!”

“You wish!” Sirius shouted back, urging his broom forward. Regulus trailed slightly behind but wasn’t far off.

“Not bad, Reggie!” James called, glancing back. “You’ve got the speed. Now let’s see some moves.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. He tilted his broom, cutting sharply to the right and then darting up in a clean spiral, surprising both James and Sirius. When he leveled out, he was just ahead of them.

Sirius whooped. “Look at you, show-off! Where’s this been hiding?”

Regulus smirked faintly, the competitive edge starting to seep into his movements.

James caught up quickly, pulling alongside Regulus. “Don’t let him distract you,” James said, his voice conspiratorial, like they were allies. Then he suddenly pushed his broom forward, darting ahead again.

Regulus rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the way his shoulders relaxed. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just existing… he was living.

After a few more laps and tricks, the three of them hovered in the air, catching their breath. Sirius was grinning like a fool, his hair a windswept mess. James was gesturing animatedly, recounting how he’d totally outmaneuvered Sirius in one of the earlier passes.

“Whatever, Potter,” Sirius said, swatting him on the arm. “I had you on the last turn.”

“Sure you did,” James shot back, rolling his eyes. He turned to Regulus, grinning. “What about you? You’ve got some serious moves. Where’d you learn that spiral? Sirius could never pull that off.”

Regulus’s smirk was small but genuine. “Practice,” he said simply. “Not that you’d need any, apparently.”

“Flattery!” James exclaimed, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. “I like you more already.”

Sirius watched the exchange, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. Regulus was more at ease with James than he’d been with Sirius. It stung, but at the same time, Sirius couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. His brother was coming out of his shell. Slowly, yes, but it was happening.

James caught Sirius’s look and gave him another subtle nod.

“Boys!” Euphemia’s voice carried from the house, and all three of them turned to see her standing on the back steps, her hands on her hips. “Dinner’s ready, and if you don’t come now, it’s going to get cold!”

James grinned. “Coming, Mum!”

Sirius slung an arm around Regulus’s shoulders lightly, not forcefully. “Not bad for your first time out with us. Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”

Regulus ducked out from under his arm but didn’t look annoyed. “Maybe.”

James fell into step beside Regulus as they walked back toward the house. “I’m thinking we should make this a regular thing,” he said.

Sirius rolled his eyes as they opened the back door. The house was alive with noise as they stepped inside, the scent of Euphemia’s roast wafting through the air, warm and rich. Regulus hung back, hovering near the doorway as James dropped his broom against the wall with a clatter and Sirius bounded ahead, loud and unbothered, his boots echoing against the wooden floor.

“Go wash up, boys!” Euphemia called from the kitchen, her voice kind but firm. “And, Sirius, show your brother where the washcloths are this time, won’t you? Honestly, you’d think you were raised in a barn.”

Sirius snorted and turned back to Regulus, jerking his head toward the hallway. “C’mon, little prince. Don’t want Mum coming after us with a dish towel.”

Regulus froze for just a fraction of a second. Sirius hadn’t called him that in years… not since they were kids, back when things were simpler, before everything had started to fall apart. Something tight and unspoken curled in his chest, but he pushed it down before it could show.

He followed, his steps slow and careful as he trailed behind Sirius down the narrow hall. When they reached the bathroom, Sirius leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You good?”

Regulus hesitated, his hand brushing against the door handle. “I’m fine.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his gaze too sharp, too knowing. “Right. Well, if you’re not, just—” He paused, looking away. “Just let me know, yeah?”

Regulus nodded tightly and slipped inside, before Sirius walked away though he pointed to a drawer, “Washcloths.”

Regulus nodded again, shutting the door behind him.

Alone now, he leaned against the sink for a moment, breathing in the faint scent of soap and lavender. The day’s events had taken more out of him than he cared to admit. Hesitating, he tugged up his shirt, turning slightly to examine the bruises scattered across his ribs in the mirror.

The dark, angry marks had begun to fade, softening to hues of yellow, but the ache lingered, a dull throb that flared with excessive movement. His fingers ghosted over the skin, and he winced, letting out a quiet breath. The flying earlier had strained his body, the muscles around his ribs protesting the unfamiliar exertion, but he didn’t regret it. Not for a second.

The day had been… unexpected. Euphemia’s kindness, James’s lightheartedness, and even Sirius’s attempts to close the distance between them—none of it was what he had expected when he showed up at their door. And yet, he found himself enjoying it in a strange, tentative way.

James had a way of making things feel lighter, easier. His effortless humor and openness were disarming, and though Regulus hated to admit it, the warmth in James’s company was something he hadn’t realized he needed.

His chest tightened, unbidden thoughts of his parents creeping in. He shook his head sharply, shoving them away. He couldn’t afford to think about that right now.

Letting out a quiet sigh, he lowered his shirt and straightened, giving himself a final glance in the mirror. The bruises were a reminder of where he’d been, but today was proof of how far he’d come.

When he returned to the dining room, the table was already set, the plates brimming with food. Sirius and James had taken their usual seats, James sprawling out as though he owned the place while Sirius was perched sideways in his chair, one leg dangling off the side.

Regulus hesitated near the doorway until James waved him over. “Oi, Reg, you waiting for an invitation? Sit down before Sirius eats all the bread.”

“I wouldn’t,” Sirius protested, already mid-bite.

“You absolutely would,” James shot back, grinning.

Regulus slid into a seat nearest the window, the wood smooth and worn beneath his fingers. Sirius caught his eye from across the table and offered a crooked smile, but Regulus couldn’t quite return it. Not fully. He reached for his water instead, trying to ignore the gnawing unease in his chest.

“Alright,” Fleamont said as he joined them, his voice booming with good cheer. “Let’s get started before these two devour everything.”

“He already has.” James muttered, dodging a kick from Sirius under the table.

Fleamont launched into one of his stories about an accidental wand mishap at the Ministry, gesturing wildly with his fork as he described an entire corridor turning into a swarm of ducks.

“Dad,” James groaned, slumping theatrically in his seat. “Do you have to tell that one again?”

“It’s a classic!” Fleamont said, looking wounded.

“A classic tragedy,” James deadpanned, earning a snort from Sirius.

“Don’t encourage him,” Sirius muttered, throwing a potato across the table.

James caught it with one hand and lobbed it back, grinning.

“Boys,” Euphemia said sharply, her tone the perfect balance of reprimand and amusement. “Behave at the table, or neither of you will get dessert.”

“Yes, Mum,” they chorused, still grinning like children caught raiding the pantry.

Regulus sat quietly, watching the dynamic unfold like an outsider. It was fascinating, in a way. Sirius and James moved with an ease that was almost foreign to him, their laughter bright and unrestrained. Even when Fleamont’s jokes made James groan, there was a warmth to it, a familiarity that spoke of years of trust and affection.

Sirius had always been quick-witted, but this was different. He wasn’t just sharp… he was happy.

It was strange to see him so at home. More than they’d ever been.

Regulus’s gaze drifted to the worn wood of the table, his fingers brushing absently over the grain. He and Sirius had never had this ease, this playfulness. They’d been raised to compete, to tear each other down until there was nothing left but shards of pride and resentment.

Even now, with Sirius sitting across from him, it was hard to shake the feeling that they were standing on opposite sides of a battle neither of them had chosen.

But watching Sirius now, with James bumping his shoulder and Fleamont cracking another bad joke, Regulus could almost see a glimpse of what might have been.

“Hey,” Sirius’s voice broke through his thoughts, soft but insistent. Regulus looked up to find Sirius watching him, his expression unreadable. “You good?”

Regulus hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Just… not used to all this.”

“All what?” Sirius asked, his tone light, but his eyes sharp.

Regulus gestured vaguely. “This. Sitting around a table. Talking. Laughing. Playing outside and being called in for dinner. It’s… normal. Strange…”

Sirius didn’t respond right away, but James leaned forward, grinning. “Well, you better get used to it, mate. Mum’s got this thing about feeding people until they pop, and Dad’s jokes? They never stop.”

“Never,” Sirius added, smirking.

“Right,” Regulus said, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It was small, but it was real.

The rest of dinner passed in a haze of noise and warmth. James and Sirius continued their antics, bumping shoulders and kicking each other under the table until Euphemia had to step in again.

“Honestly, you two,” she said, shaking her head but smiling all the same. “If you don’t calm down, you’ll be washing the dishes tonight.”

“Sorry, Mum,” Sirius said, grinning as he nudged James with his foot.

“Regulus,” Euphemia said, drawing his attention as she passed the potatoes. “How are these two treating you? They’re not being too terrible, are they?”

Regulus blinked, startled by the directness of the question. “They’re… fine,” he said carefully, nodding.

“‘Fine’?” Euphemia echoed, her tone teasing. “I’ll take that as a glowing review, considering how these two never seem to quit with their pranks.”

“We’ve been nothing but angels,” Sirius said, his grin wide and shameless.

“Sure you have,” Euphemia said dryly. “I’ll believe that the day you stop kicking each other under the table.”

Regulus’s lips twitched, though he quickly hid it behind his cup.

The dinner stretched into dessert, the easy rhythm of conversation filling the cozy dining room. Plates were passed around, heaped with apple crumble and dollops of cream, while Fleamont leaned back in his chair, balancing his cup of tea on one knee as he surveyed the boys.

“So,” Euphemia began, setting down the serving spoon, “how was that game outside? Looked like the three of you were causing trouble.”

James perked up instantly, grinning as he scooped a generous bite of crumble onto his plate. “It was fine until Sirius decided to act like a lunatic and try to knock me off my broom. I swear, Mum, he doesn’t even aim anymore! Just goes straight for me.”

“That’s because you’ve got a big head, Prongs,” Sirius retorted, grinning as he reached across the table for another helping. “Makes for an easy target.”

“Oh, please,” James shot back. “You couldn’t hit me if I were tied to the goalposts.”

“Honestly you two never quit,” Euphemia interjected, her tone amused but warning.

Sirius smirked, leaning back with his fork balanced casually in one hand. “Fine. I won’t bring up the part where you nearly fell off your broom. Again.”

“That didn’t happen!” James exclaimed, his ears reddening as Sirius cackled.

Amid their bickering, Euphemia turned her attention to Regulus, who had been quietly picking at his dessert, his gaze flicking between the two with faint amusement. “What about you, Regulus? You kept up with them just fine out there, didn’t you?”

Regulus blinked, startled by the question. “I—I suppose so,” he said carefully.

“Oh, come on, Reggie,” Sirius said, grinning as he nudged him with his elbow. “You were better than fine. He’s a natural on a broom, Mum,” he added, turning back to Euphemia. “Always has been.”

“That’s true,” James chimed in, a warm smile lighting his face. “Your flying was brilliant.”

The compliment caught Regulus off guard, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He ducked his head, trying to hide the flush as he focused intently on his plate. When he glanced up, James’s eyes were still on him, bright with sincerity. Regulus’s stomach flipped, an unwelcome, unfamiliar feeling and he quickly looked away.

Euphemia smiled softly at the exchange but didn’t linger on it. “It sounds like you all had a good time, then,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. “Though I’m sure there was more showing off than actual playing.”

“Obviously,” James said, grinning again. “Sirius can’t help himself. It’s all he knows how to do.”

“Right, because you’re so modest,” Sirius shot back, earning a soft laugh from Regulus that he tried and failed to smother with a cough.

The sound didn’t go unnoticed by James, who cast a quick, almost triumphant glance at Sirius before turning back to his dessert with a smirk.

By the time the plates were cleared and the tea cups emptied, Regulus found himself more at ease than he’d been in as long as he could remember. The warmth of the Potters’ home lingered around him, settling like a blanket against his frayed edges. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it might have been like if things had been different. If this had been his childhood, too.

If he and Sirius had been brothers in a house like this. If they’d grown up laughing together instead of being pitted against each other.

If they’d had a family that felt like this.

Euphemia finished clearing the last of the dessert dishes and, with a satisfied smile, turned to the boys. “Alright, you three, clean-up time,” she said cheerfully, as if this were a regular routine, one that had always been a part of their evenings. “I’ll leave it to you to figure out who does what.”

James groaned, dramatically collapsing into his chair. “Mum, really? We’re supposed to do the cleaning after all that? I thought we were past this!”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I swear, Prongs, you’d complain if you were getting paid to do it.”

Regulus, who had been silently observing their playful exchange, stood up slowly. “I’ll help,” he said, a bit reluctantly.

“Well, look at you, Reggie, stepping up,” Sirius teased, slinging an arm over his shoulder as they walked to the sink. “Don’t worry, we’ll show you where everything goes. It’s not that hard.”

James shot Sirius a look. “Says the guy who just breaks the plates when he’s the one doing the dishes.”

“Hey, accidents happen,” Sirius retorted with a mock-offended huff.

As they got to work, James took the initiative to pass the dirty dishes to Regulus, making light of his usual reluctance to do any real housework. “You know, Mum always said the hardest part is stacking everything in the right order,” he said, grinning at Regulus. “She’s got a system, but it’s kind of like Tetris—always tricky.”

Regulus, holding a plate in his hand, shot James a small, bemused smile. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice dry, but there was no sharpness to it.

Sirius, meanwhile, had grabbed a dish towel and began waving it around playfully. “Alright, Regulus, while James is busy trying to be a saint,” he began, looking at his brother, “I’ll take over the drying.”

“Not so fast,” James said, snatching the dish towel from Sirius’s hand. “I wanna dry.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious? You always get to dry, Prongs.”

James stuck his tongue out and began drying a plate with exaggerated precision. “I’ll let you wash, but only because I’m feeling generous.”

Sirius rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, settling into his role with a dramatic sigh as he took over the washing. Regulus watched them both with a growing sense of familiarity. The playful banter, the lighthearted arguments. It was a rhythm he wasn’t used to, but he couldn’t help but be amused by it.

James turned to Regulus with a mischievous grin. “Hey, pass me that dish towel, will you?”

Regulus blinked but handed it over, a faint sense of wariness creeping in. As soon as his hand extended, James flicked the rag at Sirius, who, in a reflex, ducked, but not fast enough. The rag hit him square in the face, and for a split second, everything stopped.

Then, Sirius retaliated, throwing his dish towel at James with exaggerated flair. The towels swirled in mid-air, creating a small flurry of chaos between the two.

But it wasn’t just the towels flying. From somewhere in the middle of the chaos, the sink sprang to life, spraying water everywhere. Regulus had a sneaking suspicion it was James’s doing.

Regulus tried to step back, but it was too late. A rogue jet of water shot toward him, soaking his front.

He froze for a second, caught completely off guard.

Then, despite himself, he laughed—short, almost surprised, but real. The sound startled him, and he quickly turned his head away, as though trying to hide it. But it was too late. James and Sirius were both grinning, their eyes twinkling with mischief and, surprisingly, a bit of pride.

“You—!” Regulus started, but his words were drowned out by another round of laughter from the other two.

“You should’ve seen your face!” Sirius laughed, high-fiving James. “You were about to give me a lecture, weren’t you? ‘Sirius, this is childish.’”

“Shut up, you prat,” Regulus muttered, still smirking despite himself. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, but there was no malice in the motion… just an easy, unguarded reaction.

James beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “That’s the spirit, Reggie. You’ve got a good laugh.”

Sirius grinned, clearly happy to have made his brother crack. “You can’t keep up with us, Reg. This is just the beginning.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“I know so,” James said with a wink.

When the dishes were finally done, Euphemia entered the kitchen with a warm smile. “You boys are just like clockwork, aren’t you? Everything’s tidy already.” She paused, her eyes twinkling. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll stop with the pranks, will you?”

James, looking innocent, clasped his hands behind his back. “Us? Never, Mum.”

                  *   ~   *   ~   *

Sirius settled down on the couch, his earlier seriousness now softened by the warmth of the chaos in the kitchen. Laughter echoed faintly from the other room, from Euphemia and Fleamont.

“You okay, mate?” James asked gently, plopping down next to him. He leaned back, his hands draped loosely over his knees. “You seem a bit off.”

Sirius shrugged but didn’t look at him right away. His gaze lingered on the worn threads of the carpet, as though searching for something in them. “Just… I don’t know. It’s been a lot lately, y’know? Not just with Reggie, but with everything. I’ve spent so many years just being angry or upset or whatever. It’s… it’s hard to stop being that person sometimes.”

James gave him a small, understanding smile, his voice quieter now. “You don’t have to be that person anymore, Sirius. You’ve got all this—” he gestured toward the room around them, the warmth of the house, “—and more than that, you’ve got people who actually care. People who’ll help you. And that includes me. Always will.”

Sirius met his gaze, a flicker of appreciation in his eyes before he looked away again, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, Prongs. I don’t always make it easy, do I?”

James chuckled softly. “No, not always. But that’s part of the fun, right?” He nudged him once more, his usual teasing tone returning. “Can’t let you get all soft on me now.”

Sirius snorted and pushed him playfully. “You’re too much, you know that?”

“You love me,” James shot back. “Admit it.”

Sirius shot him a sidelong glance, finally cracking. “Fine. I love you, now stop being a menace.”

As the laughter faded, James let himself sink deeper into the cushions, his thoughts drifting. The sound of Regulus’s laugh from earlier still lingered in his mind quiet and hesitant but real, unguarded in a way James wasn’t used to hearing. Regulus had looked like someone else entirely. Lighter. Happier.

The thought made James’s chest feel strange. Heavy, even.

He blinked, shaking the thought away, only to glance at Sirius, who had gone quiet again. Sirius’s gaze was far off now, his face slack with a kind of distant weariness James recognized all too well. It wasn’t often that Sirius allowed himself to feel the weight of things openly. James almost didn’t want to disturb him, but the silence stretched too long.

“So, I haven’t even heard you mention Evans in a while,” Sirius said suddenly, breaking the quiet. He turned to James, his gray eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity.

James blinked, caught off guard. “What?” he asked, a faint, startled laugh escaping him. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’m just saying,” Sirius pressed, leaning back lazily. “You haven’t been mooning over her for weeks now. No pining, no dramatic declarations. I was starting to worry.”

James opened his mouth to argue but found himself faltering. He hadn’t been thinking about Lily. Not like he used to. Normally, she was always there in the back of his mind, a constant hum of longing and frustration. But lately… lately, it felt like that hum had quieted, replaced by something else he didn’t quite want to name.

His throat tightened slightly, and he let out a half-hearted laugh. “Dunno, mate. It’s—It’s just been a bit… weird, y’know?” His voice trailed off as he ran a hand through his messy hair, something stirring in him that he didn’t quite want to acknowledge.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his grin softening with a touch of curiosity. “Weird how?” he asked, nudging James again, this time more pointedly.

James shrugged, not wanting to dive too deep into the conversation. “I dunno,” he said again, a touch defensively. “It’s summer. There’s just been a lot to think about—Regulus being here, you—just… stuff.” His voice trailed off, and he didn’t bother to finish. The truth felt too tangled to unravel, even in his own head.

Sirius, however, didn’t press, instead letting out a low sigh and stretching. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that. Been a lot of stuff on my mind too.”

There was a brief silence before Sirius stood up, his back popping as he stretched. “Anyway,” he said with a yawn, “I’m knackered. Gonna head up to bed. You coming?”

James shook his head. “Nah, I think I’ll stay down here a bit.”

Sirius nodded, slinging a look over his shoulder as he made his way up the stairs, his footsteps slowly fading into the distance.

James didn’t know how much longer he sat there, his eyes lost in the crackling fire as he mulled over the conversation, unsure of how to process everything. There was something about the quiet that made him restless something that urged him to move, to do something.

His gaze flickered to the hallway beyond, and something pulled him toward the library. Without really thinking, he stood up from the couch, hands in his pockets as he wandered toward the door. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but there was a pull inside of him that guided him quietly down the hall.

As he reached the threshold of the library, he paused. The door was slightly ajar, and the low sound of turning pages drifted out into the hallway. He felt a strange curiosity prick at him, something unfamiliar and soft. He hesitated just outside the door, leaning against the frame.

Regulus sat in the armchair, curled up with a book, his dark hair messy around his face, the sharp angles of his features softened in the quiet warmth of the room. His brows furrowed in concentration, his lips pressing into a line as he read, so absorbed in the story that he didn’t seem to notice James standing there.

There was something endearing about the way Regulus sat there, so still, so focused. James found his eyes lingering on Regulus’ pale skin against the dark curls, the sharpness of his profile. His hands gripped the book a little tighter, and James couldn’t help but admire the delicate way his fingers wrapped around the spine, the knuckles sharp and defined.

As James’s gaze wandered, it caught on Regulus’s lashes, long, dark, and framing his eyes with a softness that seemed almost at odds with the sharpness of his other features. They cast faint shadows on his cheeks when he blinked, mesmerizing in a way James couldn’t quite explain.

And then, Regulus pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, a small, unconscious gesture that made James’ heart stutter in his chest.

James was too aware of the silence, of the warmth in the room, of the way Regulus looked so at ease with the book in his hands.

Something in the sight made James pause, his thoughts trailing off as he continued to watch Regulus. There was a softness to him now, a vulnerability in the way he sat there, curled in on himself, as though the world outside of the book didn’t exist.

Regulus seemed so out of place in the warmth of the Potters’ home, yet, in this moment, he looked almost… normal. Like he belonged.

His gaze lingered on Regulus’ face, noting the sharpness of his features, the high cheekbones and the straight nose, everything about him was so different from Sirius.

Where Sirius was full of boundless energy, a constant blur of motion and chaos, Regulus carried himself with a quiet stillness. Something calm. Almost serene.

It was odd, watching Regulus like this, so different from the distant boy he was coming to know. There was something captivating about the way he looked.

James wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, completely lost in the quiet moment, but then he shifted, and his shoulder caught the edge of the doorframe.

The sound was small, but enough to catch Regulus’s attention. His head snapped up from the book, his wide, silver-gray eyes locking on James.

James’s breath caught.

There was something unguarded in the way Regulus looked at him. innocent, almost. The moment felt suspended in time, and James couldn’t stop himself from staring, his chest tightening in a way that left him disoriented.

For a few heartbeats, they stayed like that, simply looking at each other, the fire crackling softly in the background. Regulus’s expression shifted then, surprise fading as something more careful took its place. A flicker of curiosity lingered in his gaze, but his walls were sliding back into place.

James finally blinked, his heart still pounding as he tried to shake off the sudden rush of awkwardness.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, his voice hoarse as he rubbed the back of his neck, the motion awkward and unsure.

Regulus tilted his head slightly, his eyes still on James for a moment longer before flicking back to his book. The small movement caught James’s attention in a way he didn’t quite understand. The way Regulus’s head dipped, almost curious, sending a stray lock of dark hair spilling into his eyes. It was such an ordinary motion, yet James found himself transfixed by it, his chest tightening inexplicably.

“It’s fine,” Regulus muttered, his voice quiet but lacking its usual bite.

James didn’t move right away. His gaze flickered to the book in Regulus’s hands, noticing the way his fingers curled around the edges of the pages, the faint tension still lingering in his posture. He felt a strange pull to say something more, to break the silence hanging between them.

“You looked…” James started, then hesitated, not entirely sure where the thought had been going. “You looked peaceful. Just now, I mean. Like you were really lost in it.”

Regulus’s eyes lifted again, his brows furrowing faintly as though unsure whether James was teasing or being sincere. “I like to read,” he said simply, his tone neutral but softer than James expected.

James found himself smiling faintly, a warmth spreading through his chest at the small, almost shy admission. “Yeah,” he said softly, his voice gentler now. “I could tell.”

Regulus’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, as if he were fighting the urge to smile back. But he didn’t respond, his attention sliding back to the book in his lap, though James noticed the faintest flicker of color on his cheeks as the firelight continued to glow against his skin.

James lingered a moment longer, his hands stuffed into his pockets, before he finally turned and stepped away, his heart still beating a little too fast. The image of Regulus sitting there, bathed in firelight with that fleeting look of innocence in his silver eyes, stayed with him long after he left the room.

When he walked into the bedroom, he was relieved to find Sirius already asleep, curled up in his bed, a blanket tangled around his legs. James smirked lightly, feeling a brief sense of normalcy as he plopped down on the bed beside him. He ran a hand over his face, trying to quiet the thoughts swirling in his head.

Laying back on the bed, James stared up at the ceiling, replaying the quiet interaction with Regulus.

He felt a strange tug in his chest, as though something inside him was aching to understand Regulus more, to know him beyond the walls he had built around himself.

He turned his head to glance at Sirius, still asleep, and sighed. Things were changing so quickly, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

                   *   ~   *   ~  *

In the library, Regulus sat with the book still open in his lap, but he couldn’t focus. His mind kept drifting back to James, to the way he had looked at him, it had been so tender. Regulus felt strange. His heart was still racing, the warm feeling of comfort mixed with something confusing. He stared at the pages of the book, but the words blurred in front of him, his focus completely gone. The silence of the library suddenly felt too loud, pressing in on him.

He sighed, closing the book and setting it aside. It was late now, and even though he knew he should be trying to get some sleep, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

He walked slowly down the hallway toward his new room, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the silence. His mind kept going back to his parents, to the anger he knew they must’ve felt when they realized he had gone. A dull ache throbbed in his ribs, a constant reminder of the past few days, the pain he had endured before escaping. The thought made him wince, but he quickly pushed it away, trying to focus on the present, on the strange warmth that had spread through him in the Potters’ home.

Entering his room, Regulus stopped to look around. It was small but cozy, an actual bed with clean sheets, a desk with a few more items Euphemia had thoughtfully set out for him. A quill, a notebook and extra blankets. His clothes from earlier that day were neatly folded at the edge of the bed, a few extra pieces lying nearby. The space felt different from anything he’d known before, a strange mix of unfamiliarity and comfort.

A warmth spread through his chest as he glanced over the little touches Euphemia had made. It was strange, but in a way, it felt like home—like someone cared enough to make sure he was settled, even though he didn’t deserve it. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the feeling of guilt that tried to rise up. He had no idea what this meant for him, for his future. But in this moment, it was hard to ignore how different things were here, how easy it was to breathe.

As he lay back, the softness of the pillow under his head felt like a luxury. It was a far cry from the cold, lonely nights he had spent at Grimmauld Place. He closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come soon, but his mind kept returning to James.

Chapter Text

July 19th

A little over a week had passed since Regulus’s arrival at the Potters’ house, and a fragile but comforting sense of routine had settled in. Regulus, while still quietly observing, had started to come out of his shell more. He’d fallen into a rhythm, helping with small chores around the house and engaging more with Euphemia, whose warmth and understanding had slowly chipped away at his walls.

The more he talked to her, the more he realized how different she was from his mother. She gentle and kind, never making him feel like he was a burden. Fleamont, too, had taken an interest in Regulus, bonding with him over their shared love for potions and books. Regulus had always been one for quiet pursuits, and Fleamont’s unassuming enthusiasm about magical theory and the depths of potion-making had drawn him in.

Regulus had found himself in the cozy kitchen late one evening, helping Euphemia chop vegetables for dinner. The rhythmic motion of the knife in his hand was strangely soothing. He could hear Fleamont in the background talking about an experiment he’d been working on, explaining it to Sirius, who was leaning against the counter, looking slightly distracted.

Meanwhile, James was chatting with Regulus, trying to balance his attention between the two brothers. He caught himself glancing over at Sirius, who was picking at the fruit on the counter with a far-off look in his eyes.

James knew Sirius had been trying to keep it together, trying not to be jealous, but it wasn’t hard to see how difficult it was for him. The more Regulus grew comfortable here, the more Sirius pulled back. James could feel the weight of the tension, but he tried to divide his attention, making sure to spend time with both of them.

James smiled, noticing how Regulus had become more animated, his words flowing freely as they discussed one of Fleamont’s more complicated potion recipes. It was good to see him relax, even if it was in small bursts.

“Sirius, can you stop staring at that knife like you’re going to stab me with it?” James teased, snapping Sirius out of his trance. Sirius shot him an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“I’m just trying not to burn everything down in the kitchen,” Sirius muttered, running a hand through his hair. He caught James’s eye, but James could see the hesitation in his gaze, like he was trying hard not to acknowledge how much it bothered him that Regulus was fitting in so easily.

Euphemia looked between the two boys, a knowing smile on her face. “Regulus, have you had a chance to see that new book Fleamont brought from his last trip?” she asked, cutting through the tension. “I think you’d enjoy it.”

Regulus nodded, smiling faintly. “I actually started it yesterday. It’s quite interesting, but I think I’m more inclined toward the potion texts Fleamont lent me the other day. I feel like they have more to offer.”

Fleamont, ever enthusiastic, clapped his hands together. “That’s the spirit! A true alchemist at heart.”

Regulus’s smile softened a little more at that, and James felt a pang of warmth at seeing him so engaged. He had been so guarded when he first arrived, but now he was beginning to find his place. It made James want to keep pulling him further into the fold. He glanced at Sirius, who was still trying to mask his discomfort with a fake smirk, but there was no denying it. Regulus was settling in. And the more he did, the more it seemed to push Sirius out of the spotlight.

Sirius seemed to sense James’s gaze, and he quickly busied himself with cleaning the counter, muttering something about needing to get to bed early. James frowned, but before he could respond, Euphemia called them to the table.

Dinner was lively in its quiet way, the clinking of forks and plates filling the room as Regulus found himself more involved than usual. He spoke about his love for books and some of the experiments he’d conducted with potions.

Euphemia was delighted, her smile warm and genuine. “You might just inspire Fleamont to pull out his old cauldron.”

Fleamont chuckled, setting down his glass. “Don’t tempt me. I’d wager Regulus would run circles around me in a brewing competition. I’d be all rust and fumes by now.”

Regulus gave a small, almost bashful smile, but James’s attention had wandered across the table to Sirius. His best mate was quiet, pushing his peas around his plate with his fork, his face unreadable. James’s stomach twisted. Sirius was usually the life of the room, sharp and loud and commanding attention without trying. But tonight, he seemed miles away, and James hated seeing him like that.

Determined to fix it, James leaned back in his chair and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Hey, Sirius, did I ever tell you about the time dad tried to enchant our garden gnomes to sing ‘Godric Save the Queen’?”

Sirius blinked, startled out of his thoughts, and looked up at James. “What?”

James grinned, already relishing the story. “Oh, it was brilliant. He thought it’d be funny for the neighbors during one of Mum’s garden parties. Except he got the spell wrong, and instead of singing, the gnomes just started shouting insults at everyone who walked by.”

Fleamont groaned, covering his face with one hand, while Euphemia laughed softly. Sirius’s lips twitched upward despite himself. “What kind of insults?” he asked, sounding more like his usual self.

“Oh, you know, the usual—‘Your hat’s a disgrace!’ ‘Nice shoes, are they secondhand?’ and my personal favorite, ’Your haircut makes you look like a boggart.’ Mum nearly hexed him into next week for that one.”

Sirius let out a genuine laugh, his shoulders relaxing as the tension eased out of him. James felt a warm flicker of triumph at the sound and decided to press his luck. He turned to Regulus with a sly grin. “What do you think, Reggie? Ever had a gnome insult your haircut?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but tinged with amusement. “No,” he said dryly, “but I think they’d run out of material with yours.”

The table erupted into laughter, and James clutched his chest dramatically. “Betrayed! I invite you to my table, Regulus Black, and this is how you repay me?”

Regulus’s lips quirked up, just barely, but James saw the spark of humor in his eyes. Sirius shook his head, still chuckling, and added, “He’s right, though. You really do have terrible hair, Prongs.”

“You’re just jealous of my natural charm,” James shot back, wagging his fork at Sirius. “Don’t think I didn’t see you trying to fix your hair earlier. I bet Reg here doesn’t have to worry about that, does he? Hair like his? He just wakes up perfect, doesn’t he?”

Sirius snorted, and Regulus, caught off guard, let out a soft laugh. It was small and quick, but it was real, and James felt a ridiculous surge of pride at having coaxed it out of him.

“Merlin,” Sirius said, still grinning. “I forgot how insufferable you are when you’re trying to show off.”

“Who’s showing off?” James replied, feigning innocence. “I’m just stating facts. Handsome, charming, modest—what more could you want in a dinner guest?”

“You? Modest?” Regulus muttered, shaking his head.

“You wound me, Reg,” James said, clutching his heart again. “Right here.”

Euphemia, watching the whole exchange with a smile, finally stepped in. “Alright, boys, finish your plates before your food gets cold. And no more insulting James’s hair. There’s only so much his ego can take.”

As dinner wound down, James leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach with exaggerated satisfaction.

“That,” he declared, “was possibly the best meal I’ve had all summer. Top marks, Mum.”

Euphemia gave him a wry look, collecting her plate. “Flattery won’t get you out of doing the dishes, James.”

“Worth a shot,” James said, grinning as he stood and grabbed his own plate.

The boys moved around the kitchen as they divided up the chores. Sirius took charge of clearing the table while Regulus rinsed plates at the sink, and James stood at the drying station with a towel draped over his shoulder, occasionally flicking it at Sirius when he passed by.

“Oi!” Sirius barked after the second flick. “I swear, James, you’ll regret that.”

“Doubtful,” James shot back, aiming a particularly dramatic snap of the towel toward Sirius’s arm.

Sirius swiped it out of the air with a quick reflex, glaring playfully. Regulus, though trying to keep to his task, couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. It was hard to remain entirely stoic in the face of James’s relentless antics.

After the last dish was set on the drying rack, James clapped his hands together. “Right, chores are done. Now, who’s up for a little family fun time?”

“Pass,” Sirius said immediately, wiping his hands on a towel. “I’m knackered.”

“Oh, come on,” James wheedled, “just one game. Exploding Snap? Or we could—” He paused dramatically, shooting a mischievous look at Regulus. “We could test Reggie’s chess skills. Bet I could still win blindfolded.”

Regulus arched a brow, but didn’t protest. He glanced at Sirius, who muttered something under his breath but didn’t outright refuse.

“Fine,” Sirius said at last. “One game. But if I win, I’m claiming James’s dessert for tomorrow.”

“In your dreams, Padfoot.”

The three of them settled into the living room, pulling out the chessboard. Sirius set up the pieces with a practiced hand, while James sprawled on the carpet beside him, lazily coaching Regulus on strategy.

“Right,” James said, pointing to one of Regulus’s pawns. “This little guy is your best friend. Protect him at all costs, yeah?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Terrible advice, James. Ignore him, Reggie.”

“Are you giving me advice now?” Regulus asked dryly, surprising them both by leaning into the banter. “Because if I recall, you always lost to me when we played at home.”

James let out a delighted laugh, while Sirius’s face twisted into a mock scowl. “Only because I let you win. Don’t get cocky.”

Before the game could really get underway, Euphemia’s voice called from another room.

“James! A word, please!”

James perked up, tossing a wink toward Sirius. “Right, you two carry on. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You’re not bailing, are you?”

“Would I do that?” James grinned innocently as he backed out of the room.

Sirius sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair as Regulus stared down at the board, his expression guarded.

“So,” Sirius said after a moment, “you’re really going to take James’s advice?”

Regulus’s lips twitched slightly. “It’s not bad advice.”

“It’s terrible advice.”

For a few moments, they played in silence, the clicking of chess pieces the only sound. Sirius watched as Regulus’s movements grew more assured.

“You’re still good at this,” Sirius said eventually.

Regulus glanced up, startled, before quickly returning his focus to the board. “I practiced a lot. It’s a good distraction.”

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. He had one of his knights move forward, watching Regulus’s expression carefully.

“Listen,” Sirius said finally, “about—about everything…”

Regulus froze, his hand hovering over a piece. “Don’t.”

Sirius frowned. “Reggie—”

“I’m not ready to talk about it,” Regulus interrupted, his tone soft but firm. “Not yet.”

Sirius hesitated but then nodded. “Okay. But…for what it’s worth, i'm glad you seem more at ease here.”

Regulus looked at him for a long moment, something unreadable in his expression. Then, almost reluctantly, he said, “Me too.”

Sirius blinked, startled by the admission, but before he could respond, Regulus moved his queen decisively.

“Checkmate.”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, the tension breaking. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Regulus’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Guess I don’t need James’s help after all.”

Sirius laughed again, shaking his head. “Fine, I’ll give you this one.”

He smirked as he reset the chessboard, flicking one of the pawns into place with practiced ease. “Alright, Reggie, best two out of three. I can’t let you think you’re actually better than me.”

Regulus arched a brow, settling back in his chair with a faintly amused expression. “Isn’t it too late for that?”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “Cheeky. Where’d that come from?”

“Maybe I’m just better company than you thought,” Regulus said, his lips twitching upward.

“Debatable,” Sirius shot back, but his grin widened as they started the next game.

The atmosphere between them grew lighter as they played. Sirius occasionally muttered complaints about James under his breath. How he’d set them up, how smug he probably felt and Regulus, to his own surprise, found himself responding with dry humor.

“Don’t let him hear you,” Regulus said after one particularly harsh jab about James’s overconfidence. “He might challenge you to a duel.”

Sirius snorted. “I’d win, obviously. James only survives by being lucky, not skilled.”

“You sure about that?” Regulus countered, giving Sirius a pointed look as he moved his rook into place. “Check.”

Sirius blinked at the board, groaning dramatically. “Unbelievable. You’re actually worse than James—he’s a nightmare to play chess with too.”

“You mean he beats you too,” Regulus said, feigning innocence.

“Okay, now you’re just getting cocky,” Sirius retorted, laughing despite himself.

The tension in Regulus’s shoulders began to ease, the rigidness he carried with him softening as their banter continued. It felt strange, almost foreign, to be sitting here like this, joking with Sirius, as though the years of distance and hostility between them had simply melted away.

For a fleeting moment, Regulus thought of how much he’d wanted this as a boy. To sit with his brother without the weight of their parents’ expectations pressing down on them, to share a moment like this light, easy, free of resentment. Their childhood had been anything but easy, but now, here, he almost felt like they were making up for lost time.

He found himself relaxing further as the game went on, his sharp comments growing less guarded, his smirks coming more naturally. This was nice.

They were a few moves into the game when Regulus paused, watching Sirius with an unreadable expression. “You and James,” he said, his voice quieter. “You’re close.”

Sirius looked up, surprised by the shift in tone. “Yeah. We hit it off almost immediately. He’s… different, you know? Never treated me like Black family baggage. Just let me be me.”

Regulus tilted his head, considering that. He didn’t know why, but the almost curious tilt of his head caused a strand of hair to fall into his eyes, and he brushed it away absently. “You’re lucky. It’s like… you two are brothers.”

Sirius stiffened slightly, his gaze flicking toward Regulus. “Yeah, he is like a brother to me,” he said after a moment. His voice softened, carrying a weight of sincerity. “He can be that for you too, if you let him.”

Regulus froze, his hand hovering over a piece on the board. His heart gave a strange, sharp thud at the words, his pulse quickening as if Sirius’s statement had struck something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He nodded quickly, almost awkwardly. “I’m glad you found him,” he said softly, though the words felt heavy in his mouth.

“Me too,” Sirius replied, though his grin returned almost instantly. “Though he’s an absolute pain in the arse.”

Regulus’s lips twitched. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”

That earned a laugh from Sirius, who shook his head in mock exasperation. “See? Already getting the full Potter experience.”

Unbeknownst to them, James lingered just outside the doorway, one hand resting on the frame. He’d been passing by when he caught the tail end of their conversation, curiosity pulling him to stop.

He leaned slightly closer, careful not to make a sound, as a strange warmth bloomed in his chest. Hearing Sirius talk about him like that, and seeing the tentative connection between the brothers, stirred something almost protective in him.

Inside, Sirius reached across the board, flicking one of Regulus’s knights over. “Your move, Reggie. If you win again, I’m disowning you.”

Regulus smirked faintly, the tension between them easing. “You already did that to yourself, didn’t you?”

Sirius threw his head back in a loud laugh, the sound echoing warmly in the room.

James’s gaze lingered on Regulus for a moment longer than he meant to. Something about the way he sat, his posture slightly more relaxed than usual, his sharp features softened in the low light, drew James’s attention in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

It wasn’t just that Regulus was different from Sirius… quieter, more composed, with a certain elegance to his movements. It was something else entirely. Something about him seemed to pull James in.

But it wasn’t only Regulus. Watching them together, hearing their laughter, filled James with an unexpected warmth. It wasn’t the raucous, carefree banter he was used to sharing with Sirius, but something quieter, more tentative. There was a weight to it, as though years of distance and silence were slowly being bridged over a game of chess.

He liked seeing them like this. Liked watching Sirius’s grin widen in a way that was purely him, not the bravado Sirius often wore like armor. Liked seeing Regulus loosen just enough to let his sharp humor shine through.

James sighed quietly. They needed this, needed time to rebuild whatever had been fractured. He’d let them have it.

“It’s a good sound, isn’t it?” Euphemia’s voice pulled James from his thoughts, and he turned to see her standing a few steps away, her arms folded gently across her chest.

“Yeah,” James admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “It is.”

Euphemia smiled softly, stepping closer. “It’s been a long time since Sirius had someone to truly share moments like this with. I think having Regulus here is… healing for him, in a way.”

James nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. “He won’t say it, but I think it’s good for both of them.”

Euphemia tilted her head, studying James with a knowing glint in her eyes. “And you? How are you feeling about all of this?”

James hesitated, unsure how to answer. “I don’t know,” he admitted after a moment. “It’s strange, seeing them like this. Good, but strange. Regulus… he’s not what I expected.”

“No, he’s not,” Euphemia agreed. “But you’ve been kind to him, James. I can see how much you’re trying to make him feel welcome. He notices too.”

James shifted awkwardly, the back of his neck prickling with heat. “I just… want him to feel like he belongs here. Like he’s safe.”

Euphemia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “And he does. Thanks to you and Sirius.”

James nodded, though his chest felt oddly tight as he turned back toward the faint sound of the brothers talking.

Sirius groaned loudly, throwing his head back as Regulus smoothly moved his bishop to take Sirius’s queen.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Sirius exclaimed, dropping his head dramatically into his hands. “This stupid game is rigged!”

Regulus chuckled softly, a sound Sirius had rarely heard from him, but it was genuine, unguarded. “I think you’re just bad at it.”

Sirius straightened, narrowing his eyes. “You’re on thin ice, Reggie.”

Regulus leaned back slightly, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Go on then, blame the game, not your own strategy.”

Sirius huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine. I’m done. Retired. No more chess. I’m moving on to a better game, something where I can actually win.”

“You’ll have to find one first,” Regulus quipped, and Sirius let out a mock-offended gasp.

“Alright, you’re officially the worst little brother.”

“Always have been,” Regulus replied smoothly, his lips twitching upward in a rare full smile.

Sirius stared at him for a beat before cracking a grin of his own. “I’ll let you have this one, but only because I’m a generous older brother.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, starting to reset the board with calm efficiency. The easy silence that followed was no longer uncomfortable, and for the first time in a long while, the room felt lighter.

“You’re not bad at chess,” Sirius admitted after a moment, a small smirk pulling at his lips.

Regulus arched a brow, his hands resting lightly on the edges of the board. “Not bad?”

“Alright, fine. You’re annoyingly good. But don’t let it go to your head,” Sirius said, pointing a finger at him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Regulus replied dryly, his lips curving into an almost-smile.

Sirius grinned, then paused, his gaze softening as he studied his younger brother. “It’s… good to have you here, Reg.”

Regulus glanced up, his expression guarded at first, but when he met Sirius’s eyes, the tension eased. He nodded slightly.

For a long moment, they sat in a companionable quiet, the kind of silence Sirius had never thought he’d share with Regulus again.

Sirius leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he asked, “So, what’s the deal with you and James?”

Regulus blinked, startled by the sudden question. “What do you mean?”

“You two seem… different,” Sirius said, waving a hand vaguely. “He’s been hovering around you like some overeager Snitch since you got here.”

Regulus frowned, glancing down at the chessboard. “He’s just being nice.”

Sirius tilted his head, watching Regulus closely. “You’re not used to that, are you?”

Regulus’s fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the board, but he didn’t answer.

Sirius sighed, his tone softening. “James… he’s got this way of making people feel like they matter. Like they belong. He’s always been like that.”

The humor faded from Regulus' face as he watched his brother closely. “Yeah. I figured as much.”

Sirius cleared his throat, lightening the mood. “Alright, enough about James. What about you? You’ve been settling in alright, yeah? Getting along with Mum and Dad?”

Regulus nodded slowly. “They’re… nice. Different from what I’m used to, but in a good way.”

“They’re the best,” Sirius said simply, a rare warmth in his voice. Then he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “What about school? Your friends?”

Regulus stiffened slightly, his fingers curling against the edge of the chessboard. “Not sure really,” he said after a moment. “I don’t know how they’ll feel about this change. Most of them…well you know.”

Sirius frowned, his expression darkening. “They weren’t your friends, then.”

Regulus let out a dry laugh, looking up at his brother. “That’s rich, coming from you. Weren’t you the one who used to tell me I needed people on my side? That friends would make it easier to survive?”

“Yeah, well,” Sirius muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t think they’d all turn out to be Death Eater sympathizers.”

Regulus’s lips quirked in a faint, humorless smile. “Neither did I.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of their shared past hanging between them. Then Sirius reached over and nudged Regulus’s arm.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer. “You’ve got me, alright? And… you’ve got James. He might be a pain, but he’s loyal to a fault.”

Regulus glanced at Sirius, his expression softening. “I know,” he said quietly.

Sirius nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small, genuine smile. “Good. Now, let’s finish this game so I can officially kick your arse.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched into a faint smirk as he reached for his pieces.

“You’re welcome to try,” he said, resetting the board.

Sirius grinned, leaning forward with renewed determination. “Oh, I’m more than ready, little brother.”

They played on, the lighthearted banter between them growing easier with each move, their laughter echoing softly through the house.

For Sirius, it felt like a glimpse of something he hadn’t realized he missed the way things could have been if they hadn’t been born into a family that thrived on cruelty.

And for Regulus, it was something rare and unfamiliar a chance to feel like he belonged.

As the night grew quieter, Sirius excused himself from Regulus, leaving him in the living room flipping through a book. “Don’t stay up too late,” Sirius called over his shoulder, earning a halfhearted wave from his brother. His steps were lighter than usual as he ascended the stairs, a mixture of thoughts churning in his mind.

Sirius found James in their shared room, lounging on his bed with a Quidditch magazine in hand. He flopped onto the edge of James’s bed without asking, something he always did, but tonight, James immediately sensed there was more behind it.

“What’s up?” James asked, setting the magazine aside.

Sirius let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “Just…Reggie.”

James tilted his head, giving Sirius his full attention. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, he’s…he’s good. It’s weird, though,” Sirius admitted, crossing his arms. “I can’t figure out if it’s him changing or if it’s me noticing stuff I ignored before. Maybe both.”

James sat up straighter, leaning his elbows on his knees. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he’s quieter than I remember. Always was, but it’s different now. He’s…trying, I think, with me, with Mum and Dad. And I love seeing him like this, you know? I love seeing him more comfortable. But it’s like—” He faltered, searching for words. “I don’t know what’s waiting for him when we go back to school. What if everything unravels the second we’re there?”

James nodded thoughtfully. “You mean with your old lot?”

“Yeah,” Sirius muttered, his tone darkening. “They’re not exactly the forgiving type. If he’s lucky, they’ll just ignore him. But if he’s not…” He trailed off.

James sat back, a crease forming between his brows. “You’re not going to let anything happen to him. You know that.”

Sirius scoffed lightly. “It’s not that simple, James. I can’t be everywhere, and he doesn’t exactly have the thickest skin.”

“Maybe,” James said, shrugging one shoulder, “but he’s stronger than you think. And you’re not alone in this.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You’re volunteering to babysit my little brother now?”

James smirked. “I’m saying he’s not just your little brother anymore, is he? He’s part of the group. We’ll look out for him together.”

Sirius’s expression softened. He didn’t say anything right away, but his gratitude was clear. “Thanks, mate,” he murmured, letting himself relax a little.

               *   ~   *   ~   *

Regulus had slipped away, the stillness of the house pressing too heavily on his chest. He wandered outside into the garden, where the cool night air greeted him. He crouched down by a cluster of plants, absentmindedly brushing his fingers over their leaves.

The grass beneath his hands was soft, the kind of softness he rarely felt in his childhood. The Blacks’ garden had been pristine but lifeless, all harsh hedges and rigid symmetry. This garden, though it felt wild and alive.

Regulus tugged at a stray blade of grass, his mind drifting. He thought about the Potters, how different they were, how warm their home was. He couldn’t help but think about how he’d spent so little time outside growing up, always confined within the walls of Grimmauld Place. Even when he’d been allowed outside, there was always something cold about it, as if the shadows of the house followed him.

Here, he felt the warmth of the day still lingering in the soil. He let his fingers sink into the grass, anchoring himself to the earth.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the garden settle over him. He tried not to think about what was coming next. School his friends, or the backlash of leaving his family behind. But the uncertainty gnawed at him anyway, lingering at the edges of his thoughts.

The faint creak of the back door broke through his reverie. Regulus didn’t move, his hand still resting on the grass, as he waited to see if someone would join him.

James made his way to the back door and stepped out into the cool night air, scanning the garden for Regulus. It wasn’t hard to find him he was sitting by the flowerbeds, his hand resting against the grass, the quiet of the night seeming to settle around him.

James jogged over and flopped down beside him without hesitation, making sure to land with a soft thud to avoid startling him. “Hey,” James said, keeping his voice casual. “Garden meditation, is it? Solid choice.”

Regulus didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on something far off, maybe the stars, maybe nothing at all. His fingers idly combed through the grass, twisting blades between them as if the action alone kept him tethered.

James didn’t mind the silence, though it wasn’t exactly his forte. He leaned back on his hands, letting the stillness of the garden settle between them for a moment before he spoke again. “You know, this garden’s always been my favorite spot. It’s quiet but not… lonely. Does that make sense?”

Regulus tilted his head slightly, finally looking over at James. “I suppose.” His voice was quiet, like he wasn’t used to filling the space with it.

Encouraged by the faint response, James pushed on. “I used to come out here all the time when I was younger. If I was in trouble—which, to be fair, was pretty often—I’d hide out here. Mum always said it was the only place where I’d actually sit still for five minutes.” He grinned, glancing over to see if the story earned any reaction.

To his surprise, Regulus’s lips twitched, just barely, but it was something.

“What about you?” James asked, turning his head to watch him more closely. “Did you ever have a spot like this? Somewhere you’d go to get away from everything?”

Regulus’s hand stilled in the grass, his fingers tightening slightly around the blades. He hesitated before answering, his tone measured, almost detached. “No. There wasn’t really anywhere to go.”

James frowned at the answer, though he wasn’t entirely surprised. “What, not even a garden?”

Regulus shook his head. “There was a garden. But it wasn’t…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening slightly as he searched for the words. “It wasn’t like this. It wasn’t somewhere you’d… escape to. It was just another place to be watched.”

The words hung between them, and James didn’t try to fill the silence right away. Instead, he let his gaze drift across the garden, the soft glow of the house behind them casting long shadows over the grass.

“Well,” he said eventually, his voice softer now, “you don’t have to worry about that here. This is your space too, you know. No one’s watching.” He gestured vaguely around them. “You can do whatever you like. Sit out here all night if you want.”

Regulus didn’t reply, but his hand loosened slightly, his fingers resuming their absent movements in the grass. James took that as a small win.

“Freedom,” Regulus whispered softly, almost as if the word was foreign to him.

James caught the shift in Regulus’s mood, sensing that the casual tone they’d started with wasn’t enough to keep things light. The weight of the silence grew thick between them, and James instinctively bumped his shoulder against Regulus’s to break the tension.

“Hey, don’t get all deep on me. I’m still working on figuring out the concept of ‘freedom,’ too,” James said, offering him a half-smile. “My idea of freedom mostly involves broomsticks and pranking Slytherins, but that’s neither here nor there.”

To his relief, Regulus huffed out a quiet laugh. It was barely audible, but James caught it, and he couldn’t help the small swell of pride at the sound.

“You’re ridiculous,” Regulus said, his tone carrying a faint trace of amusement.

“Thank you,” James replied, his grin widening. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Regulus shook his head, but the faintest smile lingered on his lips. For a moment, James just watched him, his eyes tracing the sharp lines of his profile, the way his dark hair shifted slightly in the breeze.

It hit him then, quietly but undeniably, how much he wanted to see Regulus like this more often unguarded, even if only for a fleeting moment.

There was something different now, something about the way James was looking at him. His eyes lingered on Regulus’s face for a second too long, and he quickly looked away, forcing himself to focus on something else. Anything else.

He tried to make the moment feel less strange, less charged, by reaching for a bit of humor. “So no mediation then?”

Regulus just shook his head, quiet again, and James wasn’t sure what to make of it. The words from earlier still lingered in the air, and the strange sensation of being drawn to Regulus didn’t fade. In fact, it only grew more pronounced as the silence stretched between them.

Regulus looked at him, and their eyes met for a beat longer than necessary. Neither of them spoke, but the moment was enough. James felt a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the chill in the air, and he realized, almost too late, that his thoughts had wandered somewhere unexpected.

James shifted closer to Regulus, sensing that the quiet had gone on long enough. He didn’t want to push too hard, but if there was one thing he knew, it was how to get someone talking without making it feel forced.

Regulus tilted his head, “thanks for earlier…letting Sirius and I play chess. Though he’s awful at it.”

James let out a laugh, almost startled by Regulus’s bluntness. “Really? Sirius and strategy don’t exactly mix. I’ve never seen him win a game in my life, and trust me, we’ve played a lot.”

Regulus’s smile softened, something genuine in it this time. It felt different, not just forced or polite like the ones he’d given before. “Yeah, he doesn’t have the patience for it. He just moves pieces around like he’s trying to win by sheer chaos.”

“That’s Sirius in a nutshell,” James agreed, a warm laugh escaping him. “He’s never been one for thinking things through.”

Regulus only nodded in response.

“So,” James began, turning the conversation back to more casual topics, “did you get everything you needed when you went out the other day with mum?”

Regulus looked away for a moment, considering. “I think I have most of what I need. But there’s this one book on advanced potion-making I wanted to get… It’s a bit rare, though. Might be hard to find.”

James nodded thoughtfully. “We can head into Hogsmeade tomorrow. I know a few places that might have it, and I’ve been wanting to go anyway.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his eyes. “You’d help me get it?”

James grinned. “Of course, Reg.”

Regulus looked at him for a moment, something flickering behind his eyes, hesitation, perhaps, or vulnerability that he wasn’t entirely comfortable showing. He dropped his gaze, turning it back to the grass beneath his hands, but the words lingered in his mind.

It was such a simple thing for James to say, so casual, but Regulus couldn’t remember the last time someone had offered to help him without expectation or ulterior motive. There was no weight attached to James’s words, no hidden agenda. Just… sincerity.

He risked a glance back at James, intending to offer a quiet “thank you,” but he stopped short, his gaze lingering.

James was sitting in that relaxed, effortless way he always did, leaning back slightly on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him. The soft light from the house caught the angles of his face, making his features stand out against the dark backdrop of the garden. And then there was his smile. Permanent, it seemed.

It wasn’t just his charm, though that was undeniable. It was something deeper, something in the way his presence filled the space around him, warm and steady like sunlight breaking through a cloudy day.

Regulus wasn’t sure what it was about James, but he found himself unable to look away. There was an energy to him that seemed entirely unshaken by the world around him, a kind of strength that didn’t come from arrogance but from something far more genuine. It was… intriguing.

James just kept his presence steady, letting the silence sit between them for a moment. He found himself wanting to say more, but the words didn’t come.

Instead, he sat there, quietly enjoying the stillness.

It was when he looked over at Regulus again that he noticed something unexpected. Regulus was staring at him, his eyes fixed on James’s face. There was an intensity in his gaze, something that made James’s heart beat a little faster. For a split second, it felt as if the world around them had faded away, leaving just the two of them.

James blinked, breaking the gaze, feeling his pulse quicken.

What the hell was that?

“Uh, anyway,” James said, standing up a bit too abruptly, his voice a little shakier than he liked. “I should probably let you get back to… whatever it is you’re doing out here.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “But yeah, we can go to Hogsmeade tomorrow. I’m sure Sirius will be excited for an excuse to see Remus anyway.”

Regulus nodded, his expression unreadable. “Thanks, James.”

James smiled, but it felt a little more uncertain than before. “No problem.”

As James turned to leave, Regulus let his gaze follow him for a moment, his mind racing. That strange pull he’d felt toward James earlier. It wasn’t gone. If anything, it was stronger now, leaving him with a gnawing sense of unease that he couldn’t fully explain.

But as he looked back out at the garden, the corner of his mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. For the first time in a long time, something didn’t feel entirely wrong.

                *   ~   *   ~   *

James sank into the couch in the living room, his hands running through his hair as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. The quiet of the house seemed to weigh on him, his thoughts a tangled mess.

Why is it different with him?

James rubbed his face, feeling the pressure building in his chest. He didn’t know what it was, this… thing between him and Regulus. It wasn’t like with Sirius.

With Sirius, everything felt natural. They’d always had an easy camaraderie, a kind of unspoken understanding. They joked, fought, and teased like brothers. But with Regulus? It felt… more complicated. There was something there and James couldn’t figure out why.

He had tried to convince himself it was just the weight of the situation. Regulus coming from that messed-up home, everything being so new. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it wasn’t just that.

The questions swirled, but the answers didn’t come. Was he overthinking it? Maybe he was just imagining the tension. But if that was true, then why couldn’t he shake the feeling that there was more to it?

He sighed and let his head fall into his hands, massaging his temples. This was ridiculous. I’m just trying to help him, he reasoned.

James leaned back again, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through his jumbled thoughts. Something had shifted with Regulus, he was sure of it. And whatever that was, he needed to figure it out before it drove him crazy.

James was still lost in his thoughts when he heard the door creak open. His head snapped up, and his stomach did a flip when he saw Sirius standing in the doorway, looking at him with a raised brow.

Sirius stepped into the room, his usual carefree demeanor in place, but James could see the subtle concern behind his eyes.

“You alright?” Sirius asked, walking over to the couch and sitting beside him. “You look like you’re working through something heavy.”

James felt his heart race for a moment, but he gave a light laugh, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine, just thinking. A lot on my mind.”

Sirius studied him for a moment longer, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he settled into the cushions beside James and tilted his head. “So, how’d the conversation with Reggie go? You two talk much?”

James felt a small spike of anxiety. He forced himself to relax, mentally scolding himself for overthinking. Everything was fine. He could just answer this casually.

“It went well,” James said, his voice steady. “He just… needs more time, I think. It’s still all a bit new for him.”

Sirius nodded, his face softening with understanding. “Yeah, I can imagine.” He paused for a beat, then added, “You get him to open up a bit?”

James hesitated for a second. He wasn’t sure how much to say. He didn’t want to make it sound like there was anything more to it than there was.

“Yeah, a little. Actually, he mentioned a book he wants. Was thinking about going into Hogsmeade tomorrow. Maybe we could bring Moony along too.”

Sirius perked up at that, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. It’d be good for him to get out a bit, and I’m sure he’ll enjoy it more with some company.” He leaned back into the couch, smiling to himself. “Could be fun. Just gotta make sure Moony doesn’t make it a learning experience.”

James chuckled, feeling the tension in his chest start to ease. “I think we can manage without any lessons. Maybe some drinks and snacks, yeah?”

Sirius grinned at that, the usual playful energy back between them. “Definitely. If we can manage to keep out of trouble long enough to get there, that is.”

James smiled at his friend, grateful for the easy banter that still came so naturally. But as he glanced at Sirius, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were shifting in ways he didn’t fully understand yet.

Chapter Text

July 20th

The morning light streamed through the window as Sirius knocked firmly on Regulus’s door. “Oi, you ready yet? James and I are good to go whenever.”

“Almost,” came Regulus’s voice from the other side. “I’ll be down in a moment.”

Sirius shrugged, muttering something about how “perfect hair takes time,” before heading back downstairs to join James. A few minutes later, Regulus descended the stairs, his usual neat appearance intact as he straightened the cuffs of his sleeves.

James was waiting by the door, two brooms in hand. He tossed one to Sirius, who caught it easily, before turning to Regulus and handing him the other. “Here.”

Regulus accepted it with a quiet nod, running his fingers over the polished wood. It wasn’t a fancy model, but it was clearly well-kept, and he appreciated the gesture.

“Alright, let’s go,” Sirius said eagerly, already stepping outside.

They shouted their goodbyes to Euphemia, who was standing in the kitchen doorway. “Be safe!” she called after them, shaking her head fondly. “And don’t be out too long!”

Regulus gave her a small wave before following Sirius and James out into the crisp air.

As they took to the skies, Regulus let the rush of the wind and the chill of the morning air fill his lungs. It was a rare sensation. One of freedom, weightlessness, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to forget everything that had been weighing him down.

James and Sirius, meanwhile, were already locked in an intense competition, zipping through the air and shouting taunts at each other.

“You call that a dive?” Sirius bellowed, hurtling downward at breakneck speed.

“At least I can pull up without wobbling, Pads,” James shot back, grinning as he executed a sharp roll to avoid Sirius’s path.

They continued their playful rivalry, showing off with loops and spins, constantly trying to outdo each other. Regulus hung back, content to watch. His sharp eyes followed James as he flew. His confident movements, the way he laughed without care, the energy he exuded. It was impossible not to notice how natural James seemed in the air, as though flying was an extension of himself.

Regulus wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring before James slowed down, hovering near him.

“Not bad, eh?” James said, brushing a hand through his windswept hair.

Regulus nodded, his expression composed. “It’s impressive,” he admitted quietly.

“You should try,” James teased with a grin. “Give us both a run for our Galleons.”

Regulus didn’t reply, but his lips twitched slightly in response, just enough to give James a hint of a smile before they began their descent toward Hogsmeade.

When they landed, the bustling village greeted them with its usual charm. Cobblestone streets were filled with witches and wizards shopping, chatting, and sipping steaming mugs of butterbeer.

Regulus’s stomach knotted as he took it all in. He had been here before, of course, but this time felt different. The thought of his parents lurking in the shadows, waiting to drag him back, nagged at him relentlessly. He knew it was unlikely, but the fear lingered, clawing at his mind.

James noticed his hesitation and stepped closer. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low enough that Sirius, now ahead of them, couldn’t hear. “You alright?”

Regulus glanced at him, his expression guarded but tight. “Fine.”

James frowned but didn’t press. Instead, he offered a reassuring smile. “No one’s going to bother you, not with us around.”

Regulus nodded, though the knot in his stomach didn’t entirely ease.

Ahead of them, Sirius suddenly let out an excited whoop. “Moony!” he called, spotting Remus by a bench near Honeydukes. Without hesitation, Sirius strode up to him, wrapping him in a bear hug.

“You’re early,” Sirius teased, ruffling Remus’s hair.

“You’re late,” Remus retorted with a grin, shoving Sirius off playfully. “I’m not surprised, considering you had to drag James along.”

“Oi!” James called, catching up. “I’m the responsible one here, thank you very much.”

Remus raised a skeptical brow but didn’t argue. His gaze shifted to Regulus, and he gave a small, polite nod. “Regulus.”

Regulus nodded back, feeling slightly out of place as Sirius and Remus bantered with their usual ease. He stayed a step back, observing the way they laughed together, comfortable in each other’s presence.

James seemed to sense this and gave Regulus a light nudge. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s grab something warm. First round’s on Sirius.”

“Like hell it is!” Sirius barked, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

Regulus hesitated before following, a small part of him beginning to relax as he trailed behind the group.

The Three Broomsticks was warm, cozy as always as the four of them settled into a booth near the fireplace, steaming mugs of butterbeer placed in front of them.

Regulus sat quietly, his hands wrapped around his mug, letting the warmth seep into his fingers. He felt like an outsider looking in, unsure of how to be present like they were.

James, sitting next to him, noticed his silence. Nudging Regulus’s foot lightly under the table, James grinned and said, “So, Reggie, what do you think? First butterbeer since you’ve been back, better than you remember?”

Regulus blinked, caught off guard, but he nodded. “It’s good,” he said simply, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“Good?” Sirius interrupted, throwing an arm around Remus’s shoulders. “It’s the best, you uncultured git.”

James rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. He’s just overcompensating because he practically lives off the stuff.”

Regulus’s smile widened just a touch as Sirius scowled in mock offense.

The conversation drifted on, mostly between Sirius, James, and Remus. Regulus listened as they bantered, trading quick-witted remarks and laughing like no one else in the room existed. His gaze lingered on the way Sirius leaned into Remus, how his brother’s focus rarely wavered from the other boy. Remus, ever composed, had a subtle softness to his expression as he responded, though he seemed oblivious to Sirius’s unwavering attention.

Every little shift, every gesture, seemed to speak volumes. Sirius looked at Remus the way someone might look at the only thing that ever made sense in a world that had been chaotic for too long.

It had only been ten minutes since they sat down, and already Regulus could feel the tension hanging thick between his brother and Remus. He almost couldn’t breathe from it.

Regulus’s thoughts drifted. He caught himself thinking about how hopeless Sirius was. He loved Remus, no question. But his brother’s fear, his hesitation it was like a weight on his chest, suffocating in its own right.

James, however, seemed entirely unaware of the undercurrent. He gestured animatedly as he recounted a story about a prank gone wrong, Remus groaning while Sirius howled with laughter.

James then turned back to Regulus. “Oh, by the way,” he said suddenly, leaning forward. “You were talking about that potions book. Want to go on the hunt after we finish up here?”

Regulus blinked, his chest tightening at the unexpected shift in the conversation. He met James’s gaze, noting the way the other boy’s gentle expression settled on him. It was like a quiet warmth, the kind that made Regulus’s heart beat a little faster, a little more erratically

Regulus’s expression shifted, a flicker of excitement lighting his eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” James said, grinning. “We’ll find it. If it’s there, we’ll track it down.”

For the first time that afternoon, Regulus smiled fully. He nodded, the warmth in his chest almost foreign as he said, “I’d like that.”

After finishing their drinks, the group stood to leave. Sirius stretched lazily before draping an arm around Remus again. “Honeydukes?” he asked, his voice almost too casual.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You’re not just dragging me there so you can sneak another chocolate frog stash, are you?”

“I would never,” Sirius said, feigning offense.

“Uh-huh,” James said, smirking. “Go on, you two. Reggie and I have a mission to accomplish.”

Regulus watched as Sirius and Remus wandered off, their laughter fading into the bustle of the street. There was a certain lightness to Sirius that Regulus hadn’t seen in years, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of something. Jealousy, maybe, or regret for all the moments they’d missed.

James nudged him gently. “Come on, Reg,” he said, holding open the door. “Let’s find your book.”

As they stepped outside, the cool air hit Regulus’s face, but it didn’t bother him. For once, he felt like he belonged, even if only a little. James walked beside him, hands stuffed in his pockets, humming a tune under his breath.

“You’re quiet again,” James said after a moment, glancing sideways at him.

Regulus shrugged, but there was no discomfort in the gesture. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

Regulus hesitated before answering, his voice soft. “Sirius seems… happy.”

James smiled at that. “Yeah, Moony has that effect on him. They’ve been through a lot together.”

Regulus didn’t reply, but he filed the thought away, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of their footsteps and the warmth of James’s presence beside him. For the first time in a long while, he felt at ease.

As they walked through the winding streets of Hogsmeade, James made a point to keep the conversation going. He bumped his shoulder into Regulus’s lightly. “You know, you’re a bit of a mystery, Reggie. You don’t talk much, but you’ve got a lot going on up there.” He tapped the side of his head with a grin.

Regulus glanced at him, quirking a brow. “Is that your way of saying I’m unsociable?”

“Yeah, but I’m doing it in a charming way,” James teased, grinning.

Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t entirely hide the slight twitch of amusement on his lips.

It wasn’t long before they reached the bookstore. The small shop smelled of aged paper and leather, the kind of scent that wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

A faint, musty scent filled the air, mixing with the sharp, woody note of James’s cologne, a scent Regulus found himself noticing more than he should.

Regulus’s expression shifted the moment they stepped inside he seemed lighter, more comfortable.

“This is more your element, huh?” James said, watching as Regulus moved toward the shelves with purpose.

James, as always, was just a tad too close, his shoulder brushing Regulus’s as they browsed. He didn’t seem to notice the proximity, but Regulus did. He wasn’t sure if it made him uneasy or if he didn’t actually mind. The warmth of James’s presence, the way he leaned in slightly when he spoke, felt oddly grounding.

“Something like that,” Regulus replied, his voice softer, almost reverent as he ran his fingers along the spines of the neatly stacked books.

James leaned casually against the shelf, his hands stuffed into his pockets, watching him. There it was again. That strange pull in his chest whenever he was around Regulus. He tried to brush it off, focusing instead on the way Regulus’s long fingers moved so precisely. Unhurried.

However, that thought didn’t necessarily have the intended effect. He again tried to switch his attention away… and failed. His mind now caught only on those fingers as they ran along the shelves.

Every so often, Regulus’s gaze flicked to James. It was subtle, almost unconscious. He noted the way James’s messy hair caught the light, the way his grin came so easily, and, most of all, the way James’s gaze rarely strayed far from him.

And every time Regulus glanced at him, James couldn’t help but notice the long sweep of his dark lashes, thick and dark against his pale skin, the way they framed his eyes so perfectly, drawing his attention again and again.

“So, do you ever judge a book by its cover?” James asked, trying to keep things light. He tilted his head toward one of the more obscure tomes, its cover a garish shade of red.

Regulus glanced at the book, then back at James with a faintly amused expression. “Never. It’s the inside that matters.”

James smirked, crossing his arms. “If you say so. But you’ve got to admit, sometimes a good cover can be hard to resist.”

Regulus snorted softly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Potter. A book’s worth is in its content, not the outside.”

James raised an eyebrow, “So you judge people by their insides too?”

Regulus’s gaze flickered briefly to James before returning to the shelf. He didn’t say anything at first, but after a beat, he spoke. “Sometimes,” he said, as if weighing his words carefully. “But people rarely match their insides to what they show on the outside.”

James tilted his head, watching him closely. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice softer now. “Sometimes you get a match. Not always, but… every now and then, the outside and inside fit perfectly.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Do you think so? Or are you just hopelessly optimistic, Potter?”

James grinned, leaning casually against the shelf. “Maybe a bit of both. But you’d be shocked—people can surprise you. Even the ones you think you’ve figured out.”

Regulus’s lips twitched faintly, though his expression remained guarded. “And what about you? What do you think people see when they look at you?”

James blinked, caught off guard. “Me? Oh, you know… the obvious. A stunningly handsome Quidditch captain. A hero to all. The pinnacle of charm.” He smirked, his tone dripping with mock arrogance.

Regulus gave him a deadpan look but couldn’t quite suppress the small huff of amusement that escaped him. “You’re full of yourself.”

“You’re laughing, though,” James countered, pointing a finger at him triumphantly.

Regulus shook his head, turning his attention back to the shelves. “I suppose some people do match, though. My brother, for instance. Sirius is exactly what he appears to be.”

“Loud? Obnoxious? A terrible influence?” James teased, but there was a warmth to his voice when he mentioned Sirius.

Regulus tilted his head slightly, considering. “Brave. Loyal. Infuriating, yes, but… fiercely protective.”

James’s grin softened. “That’s fair. Sirius has a good heart.”

Regulus didn’t respond right away. He traced the spine of a book absently, his fingers brushing against the worn leather. “Not everyone gets that, though,” he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself.

James’s brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t press. Instead, he shifted the conversation back to lighter ground. “What about you, then?” he asked, a playful lilt returning to his voice. “What do people see when they look at you?”

Regulus froze for half a second before schooling his expression into something neutral. “I wouldn’t know,” he said, his tone clipped.

James didn’t miss the change in his demeanor, but instead of retreating, he pressed on, his tone gentle. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re too sharp not to know exactly how people view you.”

Regulus shot him a sidelong glance, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “And how do you see me, Potter?”

James felt his stomach flip at the question, though he kept his face steady. “Well,” he said slowly, leaning against the shelf again, “you’re a bit of a mystery. You don’t give much away. But I think you’re more than what people expect. Smarter, sharper… and maybe a bit kinder than you let on.”

Regulus blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in James’s voice. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, his mind stumbling over a response.

James seemed to sense the shift, so he quickly grinned and added, “And, you know, way too serious. But we’re working on that.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but the tension between them seemed to ease. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“Comes with the charm,” James quipped, his eyes bright.

They continued to walk along the shelves, their footsteps soft against the wooden floor. James kept the conversation flowing, switching between idle remarks about the books and more playful jabs. Regulus found himself responding more than he expected, his guarded walls lowering just slightly.

James, meanwhile, couldn’t help but notice how Regulus’s lips moved when he talked, or how his fingers grazed the books with a kind of quiet gentleness. And, though James didn’t dare linger on the thought too long, he realized he liked being this close to him.

Regulus caught him staring once or twice, but instead of snapping at him or retreating like he might have a week ago, he just held James’s gaze for a moment before looking away, faintly amused.

It was after one of these lingering silences that Regulus stopped abruptly in front of a shelf. His hand hovered for a moment before he pulled a worn, aged book with frayed edges from its place.

His fingers curling around the leather cover with a reverence that made James pause. The book was old, the edges frayed, but there was something about it that made Regulus’s eyes light up in a way James hadn’t seen before.

Regulus opened the cover to browse the pages. “This is it,” he said, his voice filled with a rare excitement James had never heard before.

He straightened, watching as Regulus flipped through the pages, his expression open and unguarded for the first time since James had met him. A genuine smile spread across his face as he ran his fingers along the parchment, the faintest blush of color rising in his cheeks.

James blinked, caught off guard. For some reason, the word ‘pretty’ came unbidden to his mind. He frowned slightly, brushing the thought away as fast as it came. However, it seemed lodged there refusing to leave no matter how hard he tried to shake it.

James’s gaze lingered for a second too long, and he realized with a jolt that his heart was beating faster than it should have been.

What the hell?

James took a breath, quickly averting his eyes under the guise of glancing at the shelves. But the thought still didn’t budge.

“That’s the one, then?” he asked, his voice coming out a little rougher than he intended.

Regulus looked up, still holding the book close to his chest. “Yeah, this is the one. I wasn’t sure they’d have it, but… it’s perfect.”

James grinned, trying to ignore the way his stomach did an odd little flip at the sight of Regulus’s smile. “Told you we’d track it down.”

Regulus nodded, his fingers brushing the embossed title on the cover. “Thank you.” he said quietly, and there was a warmth in his tone that made James’s chest tighten.

“Anytime,” James replied, his grin softening. He bumped Regulus’s shoulder again, hoping to lighten the moment. “Come on, let’s get that thing paid for. I’m not about to let Sirius have more chocolate frogs than us just because we were busy book-hunting.”

Regulus chuckled softly at that, following James toward the counter, the book still cradled in his arms. For the first time, he felt like this day was something more than just an outing, it felt like a step toward something unfamiliar, something good.

The sweet, sugary scent of Honeydukes hit James the moment he walked inside, shaking off the cool air of Hogsmeade. Regulus had slipped past him to find Sirius, and James let his eyes linger for a moment on the door before finally following.

Sirius and Remus were stationed by a shelf of sweets, Sirius eagerly tossing chocolate frogs, fizzing whizzbees, and sherbet lemons into an already-overflowing bag while Remus tried to reason with him.

“You don’t need that many,” Remus was saying, plucking a handful of licorice wands out of the pile.

“Need?” Sirius shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Moony, you’re acting like I’m stocking up for a famine. This is artistic expression.”

“It’s hoarding,” Remus countered, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

James rolled his eyes fondly as he approached. “What’s the damage so far?”

“Enough to feed the entire school for a month,” Remus said dryly.

“And still not enough to stop Moons from moaning about it,” Sirius quipped, tossing a sugar quill at him.

James was mid-laugh when Sirius’s gaze flicked to the window. He grinned wickedly. “Oh, look, Prongs. It’s your girlfriend!”

James turned his head sharply, catching sight of a familiar figure outside. Lily stood across the street with her friends, her vivid red hair gleaming in the sunlight as she laughed at something one of them said.

There was a time, hell not that long ago, when just seeing her would have sent his heart racing. He’d have puffed out his chest, cracked some ridiculous joke loud enough for her to hear, anything to get her to glance his way. He’d spent years fixated on her, sure she was the one.

But now…

James watched her for a moment, expecting the familiar flutter, the urge to impress, the need to make her see him the way he saw her. Instead, he felt… nothing.

No, not nothing.

She was still beautiful, still Lily. But that magnetic pull he’d always felt wasn’t there anymore. It was like something had shifted inside him without him realizing it.

“Should I go get her autograph for you?” Sirius teased, making exaggerated kissy noises.

James shook his head, laughing. “Shove off, Padfoot.”

Sirius grinned but leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Seriously, though, what are you doing in here? Why aren’t you out there tripping over yourself to get her attention?”

James opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Why wasn’t he?

He glanced back at the window, but his eyes didn’t linger on Lily for long. Instead, they drifted toward Regulus, who was standing a few feet away near a display of cauldron cakes. He wasn’t browsing, just standing there with his hands tucked in his pockets, his expression calm but distant, like he wasn’t fully present in the room.

Regulus caught him looking and quickly averted his gaze, his sharp features coloring faintly before he turned away, pretending to examine the shelves.

James felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest, a tug that caught him off guard. His gaze lingered longer than he meant it to, drawn to the way the light from the shop’s window cast a faint golden glow on Regulus’s dark hair.

Sirius was still talking, but James barely registered the words.

“…You’re really not going to go out there, huh? Merlin, what’s gotten into you?”

James shook himself, turning back to Sirius with a forced grin. “Maybe I’ve finally grown up.”

Sirius barked a laugh, clearly unconvinced. “You? Grow up? Pull the other one, mate.”

Remus, who had been silently observing, quirked a brow but said nothing, his knowing gaze flicking briefly between James and Regulus before he returned his attention to Sirius’s sweet haul.

James cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. “So, are we paying for this sugar hoard or what?”

“Depends,” Sirius said with a smirk. “Think you can carry it all back home for me, Prongsie?”

“Only if I get first dibs,” James shot back, grateful for the distraction.

Still, as they bantered and joked, James found his eyes drifting back to Regulus again. It was subtle, just a glance here and there, but every time, he felt that same strange pull. He didn’t understand it, didn’t know what to make of it, but it was there.

The bell above the door to Honeydukes jingled as James and Regulus stepped out, the sweet smell of sugar clinging to their clothes. Sirius and Remus followed behind, Sirius’s arms laden with a bag practically overflowing with sweets.

“Alright, Prongs,” Sirius said, elbowing James in the ribs with a mischievous grin. “Lily’s just over there, still—” he made an exaggerated show of squinting, pretending to search, “—radiating her usual ‘I’m too good for Potter’ energy. Why don’t you make your move?”

James rolled his eyes. “Shove off, Pads.”

Sirius smirked. “What, is it because you don’t want to leave little Reggie all alone? It’s fine, we’ll keep him company. Right, Moons?” Sirius nudged Remus, who shot a knowing look toward James but didn’t say anything.

James felt his stomach twist. “That’s not it,” he said, his voice coming out sharper than he’d meant.

Sirius raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. “Suit yourself. Come on, Moony. Let’s go check out that broom shop—unless there’s something else you want to do?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, earning a swat from Remus.

“Don’t get into too much trouble,” James muttered as Sirius tugged Remus away. He turned to Regulus, who stood silently beside him, head tilted slightly as if watching the exchange had been more informative than he wanted to let on.

“Well, guess it’s just you and me,” James said, forcing an easy grin. “How about we walk around a bit?”

Regulus nodded but didn’t reply, so James took the lead, his hands stuffed into his pockets as they meandered down the cobbled street.

James smiled, trying to ease the quiet between them. “So, how long do you think it’ll take to read that thing?” He motioned toward the book Regulus had tucked under his arm.

Regulus glanced down at the massive tome, clearly contemplating the question. He didn’t respond right away, his eyes scanning the thick pages as if mentally calculating how much time it would take to get through it. “Probably a week, depending on if I actually get some peace.”

James snorted, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as they walked. “With me around? Unlikely.”

Regulus’s lips quirked just slightly at the comment, and for a moment, James caught a flicker of something warmer in his eyes. He felt an unexpected warmth in his chest. An odd feeling, one that wasn’t completely uncomfortable, but unsettling all the same. The silence stretched between them, but it didn’t feel as thick as it had before.

James found his thoughts lingering on Regulus more than he expected. There was something about the way Regulus carried himself, so poised and unreadable, but beneath it all, there was a quiet edge that intrigued James in a way he didn’t quite understand.

James swore he saw the faintest smile tug at the corner of his lips. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there. A smile James hadn’t seen before one that looked strangely real.

Before he could comment on it, the peaceful atmosphere shattered with a sharp, cold voice.

“Regulus Black.”

James turned his head to see a man approaching them. Tall, well-dressed, and radiating the kind of haughty disdain that immediately set James’s teeth on edge. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of one of those awful Black family portraits Sirius liked to complain about.

“You’ve been hard to find, young master.” The words were clipped, and the man’s eyes narrowed as they swept over Regulus. “Your mother has been…concerned.”

Regulus froze, his face going blank in that practiced, impassive way James was starting to recognize. But James didn’t miss the way his shoulders stiffened, nor the subtle step backward he took.

James moved instinctively, stepping in front of Regulus and facing the man head-on. “You can tell Mrs. Black that Regulus is just fine.” James said, his voice firm. “Her concern is unnecessary.”

The man’s lip curled. “And who might you be?”

James crossed his arms. “James Potter. And you are?”

“That’s none of your concern,” the man sneered. His gaze shifted back to Regulus. “I suggest you return home soon, boy. Your mother won’t be patient forever.”

“Tell her not to wait up,” James snapped, his wand hand now twitching at his side.

The man’s expression hardened, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Regulus let out a slow breath, his hand curling tightly around the strap of his bag.

James turned back to Regulus once the man disappeared, stepping close, closer than was entirely necessary. His hand came up to rest on Regulus’s arm, steady but light, his touch grounding rather than overbearing. He leaned in slightly, hazel eyes locking onto Regulus with a level of focus that made him feel oddly exposed.

“You okay?” James asked, his voice low, careful, but threaded with genuine concern.

Regulus hesitated, his face carefully neutral, but his body betrayed him, a slight tremor in his hand, the way his grip tightened on the strap of his bag. “I’m fine,” he replied, though the faint quiver in his voice told a different story.

James didn’t pull back; if anything, he leaned in just a fraction closer, his brows furrowing as he studied Regulus. “You don’t have to be,” he said quietly, his tone gentle yet firm.

The words settled between them, and for a moment, Regulus didn’t know how to respond. He glanced down at where James’s hand still rested on his arm, solid and reassuring, before meeting his gaze again. There was no pity in James’s eyes, only an earnestness that was hard to look away from.

“Don’t listen to him,” James said after a beat, his voice steady but carrying an edge of heat. “He doesn’t matter. None of them do.”

The conviction in his words made something twist in Regulus’s chest. It was almost too much, too raw, too sincere. But he didn’t flinch away. He let James’s hand linger, grounding him, before it finally slipped down from his arm.

But then James’s fingers brushed against his hand, catching it briefly, almost like a reflex. He didn’t grip it tightly, just enough to coax Regulus forward as he tilted his head toward a quieter corner of the village.

“Come on,” James said softly, his thumb brushing against the back of Regulus’s hand for just a moment before letting go. “Let’s sit for a minute.”

The touch lingered, though, even after it was gone. Regulus followed without a word, his gaze flicking briefly to James as they walked.

The man’s departure left a chill in the air that Regulus couldn’t shake, even as they turned and walked away from the bustling street. James led the way, his posture tense but purposeful, his hand brushing his pocket where his wand rested.

Regulus was silent, his head down, eyes fixed on the cobblestones beneath his feet. The encounter had left his stomach churning, and his heart raced with a mix of anxiety and… something else.

That protectiveness from James. The way his voice had deepened when he spoke to the man, firm and unyielding. The way he had stepped in without a moment’s hesitation, it made Regulus falter.

It was strange, unnerving, even how much Regulus liked it.

He stole a glance at James as they walked, studying the lines of his face, the tight set of his jaw. The unwavering certainty in him.

They found a bench tucked away beneath the shade of an old oak tree, the sounds of the busy street muffled by the distance. Regulus sat stiffly, his hands folded in his lap, but James stretched out beside him, his arm draped casually over the back of the bench.

“You alright?” James asked again, his voice softer now.

Regulus nodded, though the gesture felt half-hearted even to him. He hesitated, glancing down at his hands. “I didn’t expect that.” he admitted quietly.

James tilted his head, waiting, giving Regulus the space to continue.

“They’re probably furious,” Regulus said after a moment, his voice low and careful. “Waiting for me to… go back to them.” His lips pressed into a thin line.

James’s brow furrowed, and he moved closer, closing the small distance between them. “You don’t have to go back,” he said firmly. “They can’t make you. Not while you’re here.”

Regulus let out a soft, bitter laugh. “You don’t know them. My mother doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Well, she’ll have to learn,” James said, his tone shifting into something harder, more resolute. “Because you’re not going anywhere. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

That voice again. Low, steady, and sure. Regulus’s pulse quickened, and he glanced up at James, something vulnerable flickering in his expression.

“You really believe that?” Regulus asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

James met his gaze without a flicker of doubt. “I don’t say things I don’t mean. I’ll never let anything happen to you. Anyone who wants to get to you will have to contend with me first.”

The words sent a strange warmth curling through Regulus’s chest. He hated how much he liked hearing them, how much he liked him.

“Why?” Regulus asked softly.

James frowned. “Why what?”

“Why do you care so much?”

James’s frown deepened, but his eyes softened as he studied Regulus’s face. “Because you deserve better than them,” he said simply, his voice steady but carrying a quiet intensity. “Better than what they’ve done to you. And because I care about you, Reg.”

The words hung between them, heavy and unyielding, leaving Regulus momentarily stunned. He looked away, the corners of his mouth tightening as if to suppress whatever was threatening to surface.

He hated how his chest ached at those words, how much he wanted to believe them. How much he wanted to believe James. “You’re reckless,” he murmured, though the bite in his voice was half-hearted. “Caring like that… it’ll only get you hurt.”

James leaned closer, his voice quiet but unwavering. “Maybe. But it’ll be worth it.”

Regulus blinked, startled by the honesty in his voice. He looked down again, his fingers absently brushing the strap of his bag. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted quietly.

“Do what?”

“Be… here. Be normal.” Regulus’s voice was tight, laced with something raw. “Every time I let my guard down, it feels like I’m waiting for someone to take it all away.”

James’s expression softened. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before resting a hand lightly on Regulus’s shoulder. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” he said gently. “Just… take it one day at a time. And if it gets too much, I’m here. Sirius is here. We’ve got you.”

Regulus didn’t pull away. For a moment, he let himself feel the weight of James’s hand, the warmth of his touch. It was grounding, steadying in a way he wasn’t used to.

“Thank you,” he said softly, almost grudgingly.

James smiled, his thumb brushing against Regulus’s shoulder in an almost absentminded gesture before he let his hand drop. “Anytime.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling into something quieter, more comfortable.

James moved slightly, close enough that Regulus caught the faint, lingering scent of his cologne. Warm and woodsy, with a bright, citrusy note that was oddly comforting. Regulus found himself drawn to it, to the steadiness James seemed to exude without effort.

Regulus glanced at James out of the corner of his eye, the corners of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. He still didn’t know what to make of James Potter, but for the first time, he didn’t feel entirely lost.

James leaned forward slightly, trying to catch his eye. “You know you’re safe, right?”

Regulus finally glanced up at him, something unspoken flickering in his expression. “It’s not that simple,” he murmured.

“It can be, Reg.” James said softly.

The nickname made Regulus’s lips twitch into a faint, fleeting smile. “You sound like Sirius.”

James grinned. “That’s probably the nicest insult I’ve ever gotten.”

That earned him a quiet huff of amusement, and James took it as a victory.

They sat in silence for a moment longer before James nudged Regulus’s shoulder with his own. “So, about that smile you gave when you found that book earlier—do you always light up like that when you find the perfect Potions text, or was that a one-time thing?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, but there was a faint flush to his cheeks. “Potions is fascinating,” he said simply.

James smirked. “Right. Fascinating. That explains why Slughorn always looks like he’s about to cry tears of joy when you walk into class.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. His fingers absently brushed against the edge of his bag and James found himself staring at him again, at the way the sunlight caught the sharp lines of his features, the subtle softness around his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

He caught his gaze lingering too long and quickly looked away, feeling his heart skip uncomfortably.

“You’re…different from what I expected,” James said before he could stop himself.

Regulus tilted his head. “What does that mean?”

James hesitated. “Just—more than I thought. Sirius talks about you sometimes, but I think he doesn’t really…know you.”

Regulus didn’t reply immediately, but the corners of his mouth twitched faintly. “Maybe I don’t know myself as well as I thought either.”

James studied him for a moment, his chest tightening with that strange, nameless feeling again. “Well,” he said lightly, “guess we’ll have to figure you out, then.”

Regulus gave a quiet chuckle, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Good luck with that, Potter.”

James grinned. “Good thing I’m excellent at puzzles.”

For the first time in a long while, Regulus didn’t feel like running away.

“You know,” James began, breaking the quiet, “for someone who practically lights up at the sight of a bookstore, you don’t strike me as the light-reading type.”

Regulus glanced at him, his brows furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying,” James said, grinning. “You don’t seem like the kind of bloke to read a Muggle romance novel under the covers.”

“And you don’t strike me as the kind of bloke to read anything at all,” Regulus shot back, his tone dry but teasing.

James gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as though he’d been wounded. “That’s slander! I’ll have you know I’ve read ‘Quidditch Through the Ages’ at least three times.”

Regulus snorted, his lips curling into a genuine smile this time, and James froze for half a second to take it in. It wasn’t the faint, polite smile Regulus gave in passing, but another real one. It softened his sharp features, made him look younger, and… pretty.

The word lodged itself in James’s brain again, unbidden and unwelcome, but it lingered.

“What?” Regulus asked, his amusement fading into suspicion as he caught James staring.

“Nothing,” James said quickly, looking away and ruffling his hair. “Just didn’t expect you to laugh at one of my jokes, that’s all. You’re full of surprises today, Reggie.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, though the smile still lingered faintly on his lips. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? Sirius calls you Reggie.”

“Yes, and he’s infuriating.”

James chuckled, leaning back against the tree. “Fair enough.”

Regulus huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. Before he could think of a response, a familiar voice interrupted them.

“There you are!” Sirius called, his voice carrying as he strode toward them with Remus at his side. “We’ve been looking all over. You two ready to head back?”

Regulus stiffened slightly, but James only smiled, standing and dusting off his trousers before offering Regulus a hand absentmindedly.

“Yeah, we’re ready,” James said, glancing at Regulus as he stood. “You good?”

Regulus nodded, his fingers tightening briefly around the book in his hands. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Sirius raised a brow, glancing between them as though sensing something was different, but he didn’t comment, turning back toward the village instead. Regulus followed after him, but not before his gaze flicked back to James… just for a moment.

James caught it and felt that strange pull in his chest again, but he shoved it aside, falling into step beside them as they made their way back toward home.

                  *    ~    *    ~    *

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees as they landed in the garden behind the house, the crunch of their boots on the gravel pathway signaling their return. Sirius was still animated, recounting something absurd he and Remus had seen in Hogsmeade, his laughter echoing as they approached the back door.

Regulus was quiet as always, clutching his new book. The trip to Hogsmeade had been…different. Better than he’d expected. But the sudden familiarity of the Potters’ home, with its warmth and safety, reminded him just how out of place he still felt in all of it.

“I think I’m going to head in,” Regulus said quietly, pausing at the doorway. “Thanks for today.”

James glanced at him, catching the hint of unease in his tone. “You sure? We were going to hang out for a bit. Could even start on that book if you want some company.”

Regulus shook his head, offering the faintest of smiles. “I’m fine. I’ll be in the library.”

James nodded, watching him disappear into the house before Sirius clapped him on the back.

“Come on, Prongs. Let’s go sit,” Sirius said, already heading toward the garden bench.

Remus followed with a small smile, and James trailed after them, his mind still half-focused on Regulus.

The three of them sprawled out on the patio, Sirius and James side by side on the bench while Remus perched on the armrest. Sirius immediately launched into a dramatic retelling of their Hogsmeade outing, complete with exaggerated impressions of James and Regulus.

Sirius grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned back against the bench. “Alright, alright, so no heroic saves. But tell me, James—did you really not even try and get Lily's attention?”

James rolled his eyes, grabbing a nearby pillow and hurling it at Sirius, who ducked just in time. “Sod off, wanker.”

James hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this, just hanging out, joking around with his best friends. It felt like a piece of himself slotting back into place.

“Alright,” Sirius said, sitting up straight and rubbing his hands together. “Enough lounging around. Let’s do something fun. Exploding Snap? Gobstones?”

“You just want to beat us at something,” Remus said dryly.

“Of course I do.”

They ended up playing Gobstones at the patio table, Sirius crowing every time he managed to score and Remus groaning dramatically whenever a stone spat at him. James was more focused than usual, trying to win for once, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Regulus.

It was rather annoying actually. The image of Regulus smiling in the bookstore earlier refused to leave his mind for long.

James flicked a Gobstone with his thumb, watching it spin toward the center of the table before sputtering and spraying green goo directly into his face. Sirius howled with laughter, nearly falling off his chair.

“Nice aim, Prongs!” Sirius cackled, wiping tears from his eyes.

James groaned, grabbing a rag and swiping at his face. “You cursed that stone, didn’t you?”

“Mate, I don’t need to curse anything. You’re just terrible at this game,” Sirius said smugly, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head.

“Would you two stop bickering for five minutes?” Remus said, smirking. He flicked his own Gobstone and, of course, landed a perfect shot.

Sirius let out a mock gasp. “Moony! Betrayal! You’re supposed to let me win.”

“When have I ever let you win at anything?” Remus retorted.

James grinned, but his attention wandered as Sirius leaned over the table, nudging Remus in the shoulder with a goofy grin. There was something in the way Sirius’s face softened when he looked at Remus, how his teasing had an edge of nervous energy.

James had always known Sirius harbored some kind of crush on Remus, it was painfully obvious if you paid attention, but he’d never brought it up. He figured Sirius would either tell him when he was ready or continue to pretend it wasn’t happening. But today, there was a tension between them, like an unspoken conversation was hanging in the air.

“Prongs, you’re up!” Sirius’s voice snapped him back to the present.

James flicked his Gobstone half-heartedly, managing a weak shot that didn’t even reach the center of the table. Sirius burst out laughing again, and James threw the rag at him.

“You’re hopeless, mate,” Sirius teased, leaning back in his chair with a triumphant grin. “I should’ve made Reggie play. He’d probably be better than you.”

“You’re just mad I beat you at chess last week,” James shot back.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now? You cheated.”

“Did not!”

As the banter continued, James noticed how Sirius kept glancing at Remus, his grin a little wider, his voice a little louder, as if trying to pull more attention his way. And the way Remus leaned in, his easy smirk softening, there was something there, something James wasn’t sure they even realized yet.

After a particularly bad loss, Sirius groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “Alright, I’m done with this game. I’ll be right back. I’ve got something upstairs that’ll blow your mind, Moony.” Without waiting for a response, Sirius darted inside, leaving James and Remus alone.

The moment Sirius was out of sight, Remus turned to James, his sharp gaze cutting through the lingering humor. “So…how was today?”

James raised an eyebrow. “Today?”

“With Regulus,” Remus clarified. “How’s he settling in?”

James hesitated, caught off guard. “He’s fine, I think. Got him that book he was after.”

Remus’s brow furrowed, and James suddenly felt like he was under a magnifying glass. “He’s lucky to have you and Sirius,” Remus said after a moment, his tone casual but laced with curiosity. “You’re good at looking after people.”

James shrugged, trying to keep his face neutral. “Just doing what anyone would do.”

Remus leaned back, studying him. “Uh-huh. You seem a bit…tense. Something on your mind?”

“Nope,” James said quickly, too quickly.

Remus’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he let it go, though not before one last, pointed question. “Regulus seems like he’s warming up to you, though. That’s good. Sirius has been worried about him.”

James’s stomach did a quick flip. His thoughts immediately rushed back to the strange tension between him and Reggie earlier. He couldn’t quite place it, but it unsettled him.

“Right,” James muttered, trying to brush it off with a casual tone. “He’s… not as bad as I thought.”

Remus studied him for a moment longer, eyes sharp. “Alright, I just wanted to check in. You’ve been a little off today.”

James forced a small smile, nodding quickly. “I’m good, really. Just a lot on my mind, you know?”

Remus nodded but didn’t seem entirely convinced. “If you say so.”

James let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved when Sirius came bounding back onto the patio, clutching something he immediately thrust in Remus’s direction.

“Behold!” Sirius announced dramatically. “The greatest prank idea in the history of pranks.”

Remus groaned but leaned in to inspect whatever absurd plan Sirius was concocting, and James was left to sit there, his mind churning.

Meanwhile, inside the house, Regulus sat curled up in one of the plush armchairs in the library. The room was quiet, the faint smell of parchment and leather-bound books grounding him in a way few places could. He’d taken off his jacket and shoes, sinking deeper into the chair as he opened his new book.

It was peaceful here, with the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows and the distant sounds of Sirius’s laughter drifting in from the garden. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Regulus felt…calm.

His eyes flicked to the doorway briefly, half-expecting James to show up and drag him back outside. But when no one came, he relaxed again, letting himself sink into the comfort of the library and the words on the page.

James trudged upstairs, exhaustion settling over him like a heavy cloak. “I’m knackered,” he announced to Sirius and Remus, cutting off Sirius mid-explanation of his latest prank plan. “Don’t cause too much mayhem while I’m out of sight, alright?”

Sirius snorted. “When have I ever—?”

“Do you want a list?” James shot back, his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

Before Sirius could retort, James turned to Remus. “You staying for dinner?”

Remus nodded, smiling warmly. “Yeah, I’ll stick around. Someone has to keep Sirius from turning the roast into an experiment.”

James chuckled lightly, giving them a wave before heading upstairs.

The second his bedroom door closed, James flopped onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow. The weight of the day seemed to crush him all at once, his mind racing as he tried to untangle his thoughts.

Lily.

Her name surfaced first, as it always did, but this time it didn’t spark the usual rush of longing. Instead, it felt hollow, distant. He’d spent years chasing her—desperately trying to win her over, pouring every ounce of charm he had into making her see him. And yet, today…

Today, he’d seen her and felt nothing.

Not nothing, exactly, he corrected himself again. She was still Lily, still kind, brilliant, and beautiful, but the fire he’d once felt for her had flickered out. He turned the thought over in his mind, trying to make sense of it. Maybe he’d just grown out of it, out of the exhausting dance of trying to impress her. Or maybe…

James groaned and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t even convince himself.

His chest ached at the memory of Regulus sitting beside him under the tree, the way his hair caught the light and his lips had twitched in that almost-smile. The way he’d looked at James, hesitant but… hopeful.

James pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to block out the image. His heart was thudding too fast, his palms clammy as heat crept up his neck. It wasn’t fair. Regulus had already been through enough without James muddling everything with…whatever this was.

“I’m just being a good friend,” he muttered aloud, though the words felt thin and hollow.

He’d meant it, though. He did want to be a good friend. To Sirius, who trusted him with his brother. To Regulus, who clearly needed someone in his corner. But every time he thought of Regulus… his hesitant smile, his stormy silver eyes. James felt that strange pressure in his chest, that maddening sense of difference.

How could it feel so easy, so brotherly with Sirius, and then so  confusing with Regulus?

He let out a loud, frustrated groan, dragging the pillow over his face and shouting into it. His voice muffled by the fabric, he muttered, “Get your shit together, Potter.”

But as the room fell silent, and the weight of his thoughts settled once more, James couldn’t help but think that this, whatever this was, wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Chapter Text

July 23rd

The days that followed James’s introspective evening were a blur of distraction. He threw himself into anything and everything that didn’t involve the gnawing questions in his head. Whenever his thoughts started to spiral, toward him, James redirected them with practiced ease.

He’d focused on Sirius, mostly. Sirius was always a reliable escape, his energy demanding attention, his presence filling any void that James might otherwise find himself lost in. Sirius had been in a good mood lately, too, which helped. His sharp edges softened, his trademark grin brighter. And it didn’t take long for James to notice why.

Regulus.

It wasn’t a miraculous transformation. Sirius wasn’t exactly doting, and Regulus wasn’t suddenly open and warm, but there was a shift, subtle but undeniable. The two had started spending more time together, mostly in the form of Sirius roping Regulus into chores. Sometimes they worked in silence, sometimes they bickered like brothers tend to, but there was an ease there that hadn’t been there before.

James told himself he should feel good about it. He’d wanted this, had practically orchestrated it in small, deliberate ways. Pushing Sirius to help Regulus, encouraging Regulus to respond. It was working, wasn’t it? They were getting along. Slowly. And if James occasionally felt a twinge of jealousy when Regulus smiled at Sirius. A real, soft, unguarded smile, well, that was beside the point.

Three days after the evening James had spent brooding in his room after Hogsmead, the afternoon found him and Sirius loitering in the garden, a rare bout of sunshine spilling across the grass. It was Sirius’s idea to prank Regulus, naturally, but James had been quick to agree, a laugh already bubbling at the thought of it.

“He’s been too serious lately,” Sirius had declared, smirking as he twirled his wand between his fingers. “And I’ve had this charm in mind for ages.”

James raised a brow, watching as Sirius conjured something small, round, and shimmering into existence. “What is it?”

“Think of it as a self-targeting water balloon,” Sirius replied, his grin wicked. “It’s enchanted to follow its target until it gets them. Watch this.”

Sirius gave the object a tap with his wand, muttering something under his breath, and the water balloon sprang to life, bobbing in the air like an overexcited Snitch.

James grinned, shaking his head. “That’s brilliant. Regulus won’t know what hit him.”

Sirius glanced over at James, eyes glinting with mischief. “It’s just a bit of fun. He needs to loosen up, anyway. Always walking around like someone’s shoved a broomstick up his arse.”

“So, what’s the plan?” James asked, watching the balloon bounce around. “How do we get him into range?”

Sirius shot him a sideways look. “How about we don’t? Just wait for him to come to us. You know how Regulus is, he’ll wander right into the trap.” Sirius finished with a smirk.

James snorted. “Guess he won’t realize that’s exactly what we want.”

“Precisely,” Sirius said, eyes narrowing as he surveyed the garden. “Now, we just wait for him to wander in.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Regulus came around the corner of the garden, a slight frown tugging at his lips as he made his way down the path, seemingly lost in thought. The enchanted water balloon, sensing its target, wobbled in midair before zipping toward him with a sudden burst of speed.

“What the—” Regulus barely had time to register it before the balloon collided with him, exploding in a  particularly large splash of cold water that drenched him from head to toe.

James and Sirius doubled over laughing, clutching their sides as Regulus stood frozen, his arms held out as water dripped from his hair, his nose, his now-soaked white shirt.

For a moment, Regulus didn’t move. His eyes blinked rapidly, like he was trying to process the absurdity of what just happened. Then, with a sharp exhale, he slowly lowered his arms, his expression shifting from surprise to full-blown irritation.

“You—really?” Regulus spat, his voice cold but laced with a clear edge of disbelief. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and he wiped water from his face with a sharp swipe of his hand. “This is how you entertain yourselves?”

“You—you should’ve seen your face!” Sirius howled, practically collapsing against James in hysterics.

“Brilliant aim,” James managed through his laughter, his stomach aching from the strain.

But as Regulus moved to storm off, his attention still on James and Sirius, James exchanged a quick look with Sirius. With a grin, he pulled his wand from his pocket and cast a second water balloon into the air, a mischievous gleam in his eye. The balloon hovered for a moment before zipping toward Regulus.

Regulus turned just in time to see it coming and froze, wide-eyed. “Are you kidding me?” he shouted just as the second balloon exploded against his back, drenching him a second time.

Sirius and James barely managed to stay on their feet, laughing even harder than before as Regulus stood there, water dripping off of him in sheets.

“Really?” Regulus snapped, turning to face them with a sharp glare, though his lips twitched despite himself. “Two?”

James wiped away tears of laughter, trying to speak between gasps. “It’s—it’s just… too good.”

Regulus scowled, his pale face flushed with irritation as he stalked toward them. “Oh, you think this is funny?”

“Funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” Sirius wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes.

James was about to add a quip of his own when Regulus stepped closer and James finally really looked at him. The words caught in his throat.

The water had plastered Regulus’s inky black hair to his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw. Droplets trailed down the length of his throat, catching the sunlight, and his white shirt. Completely soaked clung to him, leaving very little to the imagination.

James froze, the sound of Sirius’s laughter fading into the background. His eyes darted down despite himself, taking in the way the wet fabric clung to the curve of Regulus’s shoulders, the faint outline of his collarbones visible beneath.

Regulus reached them, his scowl deepening as he swiped water from his face. “Real mature,” he snapped, his voice sharp, though he was too distracted to notice James’s stare. “I suppose you two are very proud of yourselves.”

“Beyond,” Sirius replied, still grinning ear to ear.

James forced himself to laugh, though it came out more strained than he intended. “Yeah, it’s—uh—it’s a classic.”

But Regulus’s eyes shifted to James, his brow furrowing slightly, and James’s stomach dropped. He could feel the heat rising to his face, and he hated it.

Regulus’s scowl deepened as he stepped closer, water dripping from his soaked hair and shirt. His piercing gaze landed on James, narrowing slightly.

“What?” he asked, his voice sharp.

James tried to respond, he really did, but the moment his eyes dropped… fuck, it was over. His gaze zeroed in on Regulus’s chest, and the sight of his nipples, visible through the sheer, clinging fabric of his drenched white shirt, nearly had him choking on air.

He blinked hard, trying to drag his eyes away, but it was no use. Against his will, they wandered lower, taking in the way the wet shirt clung to Regulus’s waist, accentuating the slight curve of it. His waist was so slender, so small, and James’s fingers twitched with the overwhelming urge to grab it. To feel it under his palms, to pull Regulus closer—

His throat went dry.

He was so beyond fucked.

Sirius, oblivious, was still doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach and wiping tears from his eyes.

James’s heart was pounding so loudly he was sure Regulus could hear it. His gaze flicked back up, panic seizing him when their eyes met. Big mistake.

Regulus tilted his head, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulder, and raised a brow. “What?” he asked again, his tone softer this time but no less scrutinizing.

James scrambled to compose himself, forcing a strained laugh that sounded about as natural as a Hippogriff in a ballroom.

“Nothing,” he croaked, though his eyes betrayed him by drifting back to Regulus’s chest.

Regulus followed his line of sight, his lips twitching into something like amusement, and James nearly combusted on the spot.

But Regulus, it seemed, had no intention of letting them off so easily.

While Sirius and James were distracted. Sirius still howling with laughter, James still trying and failing to act normal, Regulus’s wand slipped into his hand.

He murmured a spell under his breath, conjuring a massive pile of wet, sticky mud behind them.

James didn’t notice until it was too late. He was much too distracted trying not to drool all over himself.

“Incarcerous!” Regulus said sharply, and ropes shot out, binding Sirius and James’s legs together before either of them could react.

“Hey—what the—?” Sirius yelped, but before he could finish, Regulus waved his wand again, and the magical force shoved both of them backward.

Straight into the mud.

James and Sirius hit the pile with a wet splat, their arms flailing as they struggled to keep from sinking. Sirius, ever the drama queen, let out a wail of exaggerated horror, while James was too stunned and too busy trying not to laugh to respond.

Regulus, meanwhile, was laughing harder than James had ever seen him. It wasn’t the usual quiet chuckle or the sarcastic scoff James was used to. This was real, full-bodied laughter, his head thrown back, his shoulders shaking, his voice clear and warm. It was beautiful, and James’s brain short-circuited trying to process it.

“Good one, Reg,” Sirius managed between laughs, his grin wide and genuine as he wiped mud from his cheek.

James shoved Sirius away playfully, his own laughter bubbling up despite everything. “Get off me, you oaf,” he muttered, shoving at Sirius again when the other boy tried to lean on him for support.

“You’re the oaf,” Sirius shot back, his grin practically splitting his face.

“Both of you are idiots,” Regulus said, still laughing as he crossed his arms, his wet shirt clinging to him.

James couldn’t help but look. Stop staring, stop staring, he chanted internally, but his eyes betrayed him again, drawn to the way Regulus’s chest rose and fell with his laughter, the droplets of water still clinging to his skin.

“Don’t think this means you’ve won,” James said finally, trying to cover his spiral with mock indignation. “This isn’t over.”

Regulus smirked, his gaze flicking between James and Sirius. “Oh, I think it is.”

Before James could retort, Euphemia’s voice rang out from the house.

“Don’t even think about tracking any of that mud inside!” she called, her tone stern but amused.

The three of them froze for a moment, then burst out laughing again, the sound echoing across the garden.

Just as the laughter began to subside, Sirius reached down with a mischievous glint in his eye, scooping up a large handful of mud.

“Hey, Prongs!” Sirius called, and before James could react, splat. The mud hit him square in the face, dripping down his glasses and smearing across his cheek.

“You absolute git!” James yelled, wiping at his face, but Sirius was already wheezing uncontrollably.

“Oh, it’s on now,” James growled, but before he could make a move, Sirius lobbed another handful, this time at Regulus.

Regulus froze as the mud hit his shoulder and splattered across his chest, staining the already-soaked white shirt brown. He glanced down at himself, then back up at Sirius and James, his lips twitching.

“Big mistake, Sirius,” Regulus said, his wand already in hand.

Meanwhile, James fumbled for his own wand, still struggling with the ropes binding his legs to Sirius’s. “Undo the spell, Pads!” he demanded, laughing despite himself.

Sirius was too busy trying to dodge another enchanted glob of mud Regulus had sent his way, howling with laughter as he clawed at the ropes. “You undo it!”

Finally, James managed to free them, and the two boys scrambled to their feet, clawing their way out of the mud pile. Both were covered head to toe in muck, James’s face smeared comically where Sirius’s attack had landed.

Regulus wasn’t much better off. His once-white shirt was thoroughly ruined, streaked with mud and clinging to him in ways James really didn’t need to notice. But his body didn’t get the memo, heat flushed through him as his gaze flicked, unbidden, to the way the shirt highlighted Regulus’s curves.

But it was his pants that caught James’s attention the most now. The wet fabric stuck to his legs in a way that made James’s heartbeat a little faster, outlining those long, elegant thighs in a way he couldn’t seem to ignore. They were just… too noticeable, the way the soaked fabric clung to them.

Heat flushed through James’s face and down his neck, and he immediately turned his gaze elsewhere, clenching his fists at his sides. But it didn’t help, his body betrayed him, and his fingers twitched restlessly, as if trying to grasp onto some semblance of control.

“Revenge will be mine,” James declared, his voice cracking slightly as he turned to Sirius, who was still grinning like an idiot.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius said, brushing some mud off his arm. “Clean yourself up first, mate. You look like a troll.”

James cast a quick cleaning charm, most of the mud vanishing from his clothes and skin in an instant. He turned to Sirius with a wicked grin. “I call first shower!”

“Like hell you do!” Sirius barked, but James had already shoved him out of the way, laughing as he sprinted toward the house.

“I called it, Padfoot!” James shouted over his shoulder, slamming the door behind him as he bolted upstairs. He took the steps two at a time.

Once he reached the bathroom, he slammed the door shut and pressed his back against it, breathing heavily. His heart was pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the sprint.

Shit.

The image of Regulus standing there, soaked and mud-smeared, his wet hair clinging to his pale face, flashed unbidden in his mind. His shirt, plastered to his chest. The sharp lines of his collarbone, the curve of his waist, the slight outline of his—

Shit. Shit. Bloody fucking hell.

James groaned loudly, dragging his hands down his face.

“Get a bloody grip, Potter,” he muttered to himself, but it was no use. His body wasn’t listening, his pulse racing as his mind betrayed him again, replaying the scene in much too vivid detail.

He let out another groan, this one more frustrated, and slammed the shower on, hoping the hot water would shock some sense into him.

James practically ripped his clothes off, tossing them into a heap on the floor as he stepped into the shower, desperate for the scalding water to wash away more than just the mud on his skin. The spray hit his chest, and he sighed, tilting his head back, letting the heat cascade over him.

His hands moved automatically, reaching for the soap. He tried to focus on the mundane task of washing up, rubbing the lather over his chest, his shoulders, his arms, but his mind refused to cooperate.

Every time his eyes flickered shut, Regulus’s face appeared. His sharp jaw, the pale, delicate curve of his throat. That smirk. Gods, that smirk. James scrubbed harder, as if the pressure would force the thoughts away, but his body betrayed him. His muscles clenched under the motion, each rub only serving to heighten his awareness of the need building deep inside him.

His cock, thick and achingly hard, stood at full attention, throbbing insistently, but he ignored it, determined to focus on the task in front of him. He clenched his jaw, forcing his mind elsewhere.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t think of Regulus while having this… reaction.

Lily. Think of Lily. Her fiery red hair, the piercing green of her eyes. It worked, for a fraction of a second.

Until it didn’t.

The moment his soapy hand slid lower, brushing against the taut muscles of his abdomen, it wasn’t Lily’s face in his mind.

No, it was Regulus.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, the image burning through his thoughts with vivid clarity.

James’s breath hitched as the image struck him, vivid and undeniable. His eyes squeezed shut, his hips jerking involuntarily as his hand wrapped around himself, slick with water and soap.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered, his free hand slamming against the slick tile wall for support. He dropped his head forward, water streaming down his face, the heat of the shower doing nothing to temper the fire burning low in his stomach.

He tried to stop, his hand stilling momentarily as he forced the image away. Lily. Her smile. Her voice. He imagined her face, her soft lips, but it didn’t stick.

His traitorous mind replaced her with Regulus. His sharp jaw. The pale curve of his throat. The way his lips quirked when he was amused, and the way he chewed on them when he was focused.

“Fuck,” James groaned, the sound echoing faintly in the tiled space. His hand moved faster now, his fingers curling tightly as the heat spread through him like molten fire.

He forced his hand to still, if only for a moment, but the image of Regulus’s thighs, long and graceful, refused to leave. His thumb swept over the head of his cock, and he gasped sharply, unable to suppress the sound that slipped past his lips.

James bit down on his lower lip, desperate to keep the noises from spilling out, but they escaped regardless, low and breathy. He was happy silencing charms existed, because the images came unbidden and relentless as did the uncontrollable little gasps.  

Regulus’s waist, slim and lithe, the soft definition of his chest. The delicate arch of his back, the curve of his neck that begged to be kissed, touched and licked.

James’s breath came in shallow, his breath came in short, ragged bursts, his hips grinding involuntarily against his hand as the pressure built. The slick glide against his skin made his head spin as he fought and failed to keep himself steady.

Then his thoughts caught on Regulus’s hands. Those elegant, pale fingers, so long and graceful. He could see them in perfect clarity, water dripping from them as they had earlier, the faint sheen catching the light. The way those hands moved. Precise, restrained, controlled. Always so deliberate.

A low groan tore from his throat as the image shifted. Those hands wrapping around his cock, delicate fingers curling over his length with an ease that felt much too real to be imagined.

James’s breath hitched, chest rising and falling with desperation as he gripped himself harder, his fingers tightening in an attempt to mimic the imagined touch of Regulus’s hands. His whole body trembled, fighting to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was slipping away, fast.

He tilted his head back, lips parting as the water cascaded down his throat and chest, his knees threatening to buckle as the sensation became too much.

His stomach tightened, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, and his pace faltered as he let himself see it.

How Regulus’s hands would work him over with slow, purposeful strokes, those long fingers teasing, gliding with maddening precision. James moaned as he imagined the way Regulus would look at him, his dark eyes piercing, his lips curled into that infuriating, knowing smirk.

A sharp gasp escaped him, ragged and breathless, as his hips snapped forward into his hand. “F-fuck…” His voice broke, his fingers moving faster now, gripping tighter as the coil in his stomach twisted to the point of pain.

James’s body trembled, his thighs flexing as the tension in him mounted, every nerve alight with sensation.

The pull in his stomach deepened, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. He pictured Regulus touching him deliberately, teasing him. Those fingers gliding over him like they fucking belonged there.

James gasped, his hips jerking as the image sent him spiraling over the edge.

His orgasm crashed into him like a tidal wave, stealing the air from his lungs as he came hard, his whole body shaking with the force of it. His free hand splayed against the shower wall, his knuckles white as he tried to ground himself through the intense waves of pleasure. His heart pounded in his ears, his release dripping down his fingers and mixing with the water on the tile.

It was overwhelming, more intense than anything he’d felt before and when the shuddering finally subsided he leaned against the wall, chest heaving, the water washing away the evidence of his actions.

Then the weight of what he’d just done came crashing down on him.

James stared blankly at the tile, his heart pounding ferociously in his ears.

What the fuck, Potter?

How was he supposed to look Sirius in the eye now? Worse, how was he supposed to face Regulus?

Regulus was his best friend's kid brother. How could he have overlooked that? He was in some serious shit.

The thought of sitting across from him at dinner tonight, his sharp, piercing gaze meeting James’s. It made his stomach twist . 

“Shit,” James muttered again, letting his forehead thunk softly against the cool tile.

After a few moments, he forced himself to finish up, washing away the mud and lingering shame before stepping out of the shower. He avoided his reflection in the mirror, unable to meet his own eyes.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, ran a hand through his damp hair, and exhaled shakily. You need to get your shit, Potter. Seriously.

But the damage was already done.

James left the bathroom in a haze, the towel wrapped low around his hips the only thing covering him. His hair was damp, his skin still flushed from the heat of the shower and from everything else. He ran a hand through his wet curls, trying to clear his head, but it was useless.

Of course, because the universe loved to make his life miserable, the first person he saw as he stepped into the hallway was Regulus.

Mercifully now dressed in clean, dry clothes, though his black hair still clung damply to his pale skin. A drop of water trailed from his temple down to his jaw, and James couldn’t stop himself from following its path, his stomach clenching all over again.

“Potter.” Regulus greeted softly, his tone calm and even as always, though his brows knit slightly at the sight of James’s pink cheeks and darting eyes.

James was painfully aware of his own state of undress. The towel only covering him, his skin still damp from the shower and it didn’t help that Regulus was looking at him like that.

James froze. “Uh—hey,” he stammered, his voice coming out higher than intended. He cleared his throat, fidgeting with the edge of the towel.

Regulus frowned slightly, tilting his head as he studied James. “Are you alright?”

James’s heart kicked into high gear when he noticed Regulus’s gray eyes flick downward for the briefest second. Was he…? No. But then, there it was again—Regulus’s gaze darting away, then back up, as if he were fighting to keep it trained on James’s face.

His stomach flipped, and he flushed even harder, cursing himself for noticing the way Regulus’s throat bobbed when he swallowed or the way his lips pressed together, as if he were holding something back.

James tried to answer, but his mouth wouldn’t cooperate. “I—yeah, I’m fine, just—just got out of the shower,” he blurted, though that much was painfully obvious.

Regulus’s lips twitched, almost amused, and James nearly combusted when those gray eyes flicked up at him, big and questioning, framed by long, wet lashes. James bit back a groan at the sight.

“Right…” Regulus said slowly, his voice tinged with confusion.

James’s breath caught in his chest. That small, curious tilt of Regulus’s head his eyes wide and looking up at James was the final nail in his coffin.

Regulus stepped aside to let James pass, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

James swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak. “I—I should—um, Sirius is waiting.” His words tumbled over each other, and before Regulus could respond, James bolted down the hallway.

He practically flung himself into the bedroom he shared with Sirius, finding his best friend sprawled out on the bed, flipping through an old Quidditch magazine.

“Finally,” Sirius groaned, tossing the magazine aside. “I’ve been waiting ages for the shower, mate. What’d you do in there, recite all of Hogwarts: A History?”

James barked out a laugh, though it was shaky at best. “Shut it. Shower’s all yours.”

Sirius rolled his eyes as he hopped up. “About time.” He clapped James on the shoulder as he passed, giving him a quick once-over. “You look weird. You good?”

“Perfect,” James said, his voice cracking slightly. “Totally fine.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Right. Whatever you say.” He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving James alone.

The second the door closed, James let out a long groan, burying his face in his hands.

He was fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” James groaned, dragging his hands down his face as he collapsed onto the bed.

                  *   ~   *   ~   *

Regulus had only meant to fetch a book from his room when the door creaked open, and he nearly walked straight into James.

Regulus’s breath hitched as his eyes flicked up instinctively, catching sight of James’s face first, his curls still damp and slightly tousled from the shower. His skin was flushed, beads of water clinging to his neck and shoulders, and then there was his chest—broad, golden, and wet, with droplets trailing over the hard lines of muscle.

Regulus clenched his jaw, dragging his eyes back up to James’s face with a great deal of effort. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that his own hair was still damp, though he’d changed into dry clothes. The thought felt insignificant in comparison to the man standing in front of him.

“Potter.” Regulus said, keeping his tone as steady as possible. His lips twitched at the corners when James startled slightly, as if he hadn’t expected him to be there.

“Uh—hey,” James stammered, his voice breaking the silence. His hazel eyes darted around the hallway, never quite landing on Regulus.

Regulus frowned. That was odd. James was usually composed, quick with a grin or a joke, but now…

“Are you alright?” Regulus asked carefully, his curiosity piqued.

James shifted awkwardly, adjusting the towel wrapped low around his hips. Regulus resolutely kept his eyes above James’s shoulders, but it was a battle.

“I—yeah, I’m fine, just—just got out of the shower,”” James said, though his voice cracked, betraying him. He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, and Regulus noticed a flush creeping up his chest to his cheeks.

His curiosity deepened, and he tilted his head, studying James more closely. “Right…”

James froze, his eyes locking on Regulus for the first time since the encounter began. His gaze flicked downward briefly, and then Regulus swore he saw James’s face turn a deeper shade of red.

Before Regulus could say anything else, James practically fled down the hallway, muttering something incoherent under his breath.

Regulus blinked, watching him disappear into his room with a furrowed brow. James had seemed… off. Flushed and distracted, not at all like his usual self.

Regulus leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, and bit the inside of his cheek. His thoughts drifted against his will back to the sight of James’s damp chest, the way his curls clung to his forehead, and the way he’d fumbled over his words.

Odd.

Before he could think too much about it, Sirius came strolling out of the room James had just disappeared into, shirtless and lazily stretching his arms over his head.

Regulus couldn’t help but notice the crescent moon wrapped in vines on Sirius’s right hip, the dark ink stark against his skin. Just above, the word “Messers” was etched under his collarbone in bold, familiar script.

Sirius paused when he spotted Regulus. “What are you doing skulking about out here?”

Regulus rolled his eyes and straightened, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not skulking. I just—” He shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I bumped into James. That’s all.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You mean you survived running into Mr. Prongs in all his towel-clad glory?” His lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Bet he made it awkward as hell, didn’t he?”

Regulus schooled his features into cool indifference but couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting down to the Leo constellation tattooed across Sirius’ ribs when he stretched again.

The star, Regulus, was the biggest of them all, it stood out in comparison to the others. It was also the only one surrounded by extra tiny sparkles. Or what Regulus could only assume were sparkles.

It made his chest tighten, but he masked it with a shrug. “Not really.”

Sirius snorted, unconvinced. “Sure. Anyway, it’s my turn for the shower.” He clapped Regulus on the shoulder in passing. “Don’t cause any trouble while I’m gone.”

Regulus resisted the urge to roll his eyes again and let Sirius pass without a word. When he glanced back, Sirius had already ducked into the bathroom, whistling something off-key as he closed the door.

Shaking his head, Regulus turned and made his way downstairs.

The living room was cozy and quiet, the soft sound of knitting needles clicking together filling the air. Euphemia was settled in her favorite armchair, her basket of yarn at her feet. She looked up and smiled warmly when Regulus entered.

“Finished with your reading, dear?” she asked, her voice light and welcoming.

Regulus held up the book he’d retrieved from his room. “Not quite.”

She nodded, her hands deftly working the needles. Regulus took his usual spot on the couch, settling into the corner with his legs tucked up. The firelight danced off the pages as he opened the book, but the words barely registered.

He glanced over at Euphemia after a moment of silence. “Do you need help with dinner?”

Her smile widened, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “That would be lovely, Regulus. Thank you.”

He nodded and tried to focus on his book, but the words blurred together, his thoughts drifting despite his best efforts.

He could still see James standing in the hallway, water dripping down his neck and chest. Regulus pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to force the image from his mind. But it lingered, unbidden, along with the memory of James’s lingering gaze and the way his face had flushed when their eyes met.

He turned the page of his book, though he hadn’t absorbed a single word. His fingers tapped absently against the arm of the couch as his mind wandered.

James had seemed so… distracted. It wasn’t just the flush on his face or the stammer in his voice. It was the way he’d looked at Regulus—briefly, as though he hadn’t wanted to but couldn’t help himself.

Regulus’s cheeks warmed at the thought, and he shifted in his seat, trying to push it away. But it kept coming back, playing over and over in his head: the moment James froze, the way his eyes darted down Regulus’s body, and the nervous energy that practically radiated off him before he’d bolted.

“Regulus, dear, is everything all right?” Euphemia’s gentle voice broke through his thoughts.

Regulus blinked, glancing up to find her watching him with kind, curious eyes.

“Yes,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t press, simply nodding and returning to her knitting. Regulus forced himself to focus on his book, but the distraction was still there, lingering in the back of his mind.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about James.

Regulus had just settled into the rhythm of reading when Euphemia glanced up from her knitting and smiled. “Ready to start dinner, dear?”

Regulus hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Of course.”

She beamed at him, leading him into the kitchen, where she began instructing him on chopping vegetables and stirring sauces. Regulus fell into the task easily, his movements precise and methodical. It was soothing, in a way, to focus on something tangible.

He was just slicing through a carrot when the creak of footsteps caught his attention. He didn’t have to look up to know who it was, he could feel James’s presence, like the warmth of a fire.

“Smells good in here,” James said, his voice a touch too casual. Regulus glanced up briefly, catching the faint pink tinge still lingering on James’s cheeks.

“James, perfect timing,” Euphemia said. “Come help.”

James froze mid-step. “Me? I don’t think—”

“Oh, nonsense. You’ll be fine. Regulus can show you.”

Regulus raised a brow at that, biting back a smirk. “Think you can handle it, Potter?”

James’s mouth twitched into a crooked grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Watch me.” He stepped closer, his confidence seeming to falter slightly as he stood next to Regulus at the counter.

Regulus noted, though, how much more relaxed James seemed now, no longer as distracted and flustered as he had been earlier. The tension was still there, but it was softer, maybe even playful.

“Well, if I’m going to end up with a burnt dinner, you’re both to blame,” James quipped, grinning as he leaned over the counter to grab another cutting board.

Regulus couldn’t suppress a soft laugh at that. “I have no doubt you’ll somehow manage to do just that.”

James shot him an exaggerated, hurt look, then pulled out a chair and dramatically sat down. “I’ll have you know, I’m practically an expert.”

Euphemia, who was stirring a pot of sauce, raised a brow. “Is that so? Well, let’s put your skills to the test. Chop these vegetables, would you?” She handed him a knife and a pile of celery.

James hesitated, eyeing the knife with exaggerated caution, making Regulus smirk. “You know, I think I should’ve taken a class in knife safety.”

“Maybe you could use a little more practice, then,” Regulus teased.

James gave him a mock glare, but Regulus noticed the slight lift of his lips. “You’re no help, Black. If I end up chopping my fingers off, I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll be sure to send my condolences.” Regulus grinned, and James genuinely laughed. The sound of it made Regulus’s heart do an unexpected flip. It took him by surprise, and he tried to hide the smile that crept onto his face.

“Come on, you two,” Euphemia called from the stove, “I need the salt and pepper.”

James reached over to the shelves, and Regulus kept an eye on him—no longer embarrassed, but rather aware of how James’s movements filled the space, making it feel more alive somehow.

As James reached for the salt shaker, his hand brushed Regulus’s arm, just for a moment. Neither of them acknowledged it, but Regulus’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel the heat from James’s skin lingering on his own, and for a second, he wasn’t sure whether to pull away or lean in.

Euphemia, none the wiser, continued her work, humming under her breath. “How was your time outside? Seems the mud and the pranks are making rounds again.”

James’s face flushed instantly, and Regulus’s eyes flickered to him. He just watched James, who shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

“Yeah,” James said with a forced laugh, clearly trying to brush off the awkwardness. “Classic prank, you know? Doesn’t take much to make a bit of a mess.“

Before he could finish, his voice trailed off, his mind turning back to Regulus’ shirt, wet and clinging to him, before quickly shifting away again.

Regulus, noticing the flustered look on James’s face, fought back a grin. He had to admit, seeing James squirm was oddly satisfying, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

“I swear, it’s like you thrive on chaos,” Euphemia said with a knowing smile, stirring the pot. “No one can get through a full week without something going wrong, can they?”

James laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a gift, really. We’ve mastered the art of troublemaking.”

“Yeah,” Regulus chimed in, still trying to suppress the amusement bubbling up inside him. “A real fine art.” He turned to grab the garlic, noting how his fingers lingered just a little longer than necessary near the spice rack, just to avoid looking at James.

But James, as if on cue, nudged him lightly with his elbow, knocking Regulus’s hand slightly, making the garlic fall from his fingers and roll to the floor.

Regulus blinked down at it, then looked up at James, who looked apologetic but also slightly proud of the accidental mishap.

“Smooth,” Regulus muttered, bending down to retrieve the clove.

James’s eyes followed the movement of Regulus’s body as he bent over, his gaze briefly tracing the curve of his arse before quickly darting away, his heart thumping in his chest. He forced a grin, trying to brush it off with a joke. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“No,” Regulus said, catching James’s eye for just a second, “but you’ve definitely made things interesting.”

Their eyes lingered for a moment longer than was strictly necessary. Regulus felt something shift beneath his ribs, a strange sensation, something he couldn’t quite name.

Euphemia, smiling gently at both of them, cut in. “Well, this certainly seems like progress, if I’ve ever seen it. What do you think, Regulus? Can I trust James to take over the potatoes?”

Regulus gave her a slightly teasing look. “I think he’ll manage, as long as he doesn’t start a fire.”

James shot him a mock glare. “Not funny.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’m just stating facts.”

As James was carefully chopping a potato, trying to ignore the slight tremor in his hands from his earlier thoughts, the door to the kitchen creaked open again. Regulus barely noticed at first, too focused on the vegetables in front of him. But then Sirius’s voice broke through, lighthearted and teasing, as usual.

“Hey, don’t tell me, you’re still at it?” Sirius said, strolling into the kitchen with a smirk plastered on his face. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and looked between James and Regulus. “I’m starting to think you two have forgotten what’s on the menu tonight.”

“Right, because you’ve been so helpful,” James quipped, a mock glare aimed at Sirius. “I was just waiting for your royal presence.”

Euphemia, busy stirring something on the stove, smiled at the banter. “Come on, Sirius, give James a hand. We need all the help we can get.”

James chuckled nervously, trying to focus on the task at hand while also avoiding meeting Regulus’s gaze. But the tension from earlier still simmered beneath the surface, and James couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Regulus now and then, still keenly aware of his presence in the kitchen.

Sirius’s eyes flicked between the two of them with a mischievous gleam. “I see James is doing an excellent job with his hands,” Sirius said, his tone overly casual but the words clearly laced with something else.

James froze, his grip tightening around the knife handle. His face flushed instantly, his thoughts spiraling right back to the shower. His mind flashed to the indulgence he’d given into earlier. He cleared his throat quickly, hoping the heat in his face would dissipate.

But his eyes kept flitting to Regulus’ hands, those long delicate fingers and the image of them wrapped around him nearly made him cut himself.

“Right,” Sirius continued, oblivious to the tension his comment had caused. “Let me finish this.”

He moved to the cutting board, grabbing the knife from James’s hand. He started chopping his movements smooth and deliberate.

“You’ll need to do better than that if you want to eat any time soon.” Regulus teased, his voice light and friendly.

Sirius laughed, “Oh, I’m always up for a challenge. Just don’t expect me to teach you anything. I’m too busy being a natural.”

Euphemia, still at the stove, smiled and added, “You know, you’re a lot more tolerable when you’re actually helping out, Sirius.”

Sirius flashed her a wide grin, though there was a playful sparkle in his eyes. “Well, I do aim to please.”

As the conversation flowed easily around him, James tried his best to shake off his lingering embarrassment. His hands were shaking slightly as he reached for another vegetable to chop, and Sirius, ever the observant one, caught it immediately.

“Something wrong, Prongs?” Sirius asked, eyeing James with a raised eyebrow.

James’s heart skipped a beat at the teasing, and he immediately tried to cover it up with a grin. “Low blood sugar,” he lied, giving his hands a shake and trying to sound casual.

Sirius smirked but didn’t push further. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.” He looked back at Regulus, now chopping with impressive skill. “You know, maybe Regulus here should teach you how to handle sharp objects.”

“Could be worse,” Regulus muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking up to James for a moment. “You could have ended up taking off a hand.”

James’s eyes widened for a second, a flash of alarm crossing his face, before he quickly chuckled. “Well, I’m not that bad.”

“Oh?” Regulus asked, his lips curling into a sly smile. “I think you’re just being modest.”

Sirius, never one to miss an opportunity for a jab, interjected, “What’s the matter, Prongs? A little too nervous to finish the job? Performance anxiety, eh?” He eyed the carrots and potatoes that were still in pieces on the cutting board.

James rolled his eyes, his cheeks still flushed. “I’m fine, Sirius. Really.”

Regulus could see how James was working to keep his focus, but he was still off-balance, glancing at him in the corner of his eye, clearly avoiding full eye contact. It was becoming more and more obvious that James’s thoughts were elsewhere, and Regulus couldn’t deny that a part of him was intrigued by it.

“All right, boys,” Euphemia said with a laugh, stepping between them. “Sirius, why don’t you set the table?”

Sirius raised a brow at James but said nothing, grabbing the plates and heading into the dining room. James exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly as Sirius left the room.

After finishing up the cooking, Euphemia shooed the boys out of the kitchen, instructing them to get cleaned up for dinner. “I don’t know how you boys manage to get food everywhere, but you do,” she said with a soft chuckle, wiping flour from her hands.

James, still flushed from the awkwardness of the kitchen, made his way upstairs, already mentally preparing himself for the evening. But as he rounded the corner into the hallway, he collided with Sirius, who had been waiting for him.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, taking in James’s distracted expression. “What’s up with you? You’re looking a bit… off today.”

James hesitated, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “I don’t know. Just feeling a bit… weird. I guess.”

Sirius gave him a sideways glance, clearly concerned. “About Lily?”

James winced slightly, but nodded. “Yeah, I guess. I’m a bit on edge. Don’t know what to expect, you know?”

Sirius smirked and clapped him on the shoulder. “Ah, crushes come and go, mate. Don’t sweat it. You’ll figure it out.”

James forced a smile, though inside, the words rang hollow. It wasn’t Lily who had him tangled in knots. He could handle his feelings for her, as confusing as they might sometimes be.

But Regulus?

That was a different story. The way his stomach twisted when he thought of him, the way his pulse quickened every time their eyes met… It was too much. Too confusing.

The last thing James wanted was to ruin his friendship with Sirius, who was more like a brother to him than anything. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if Sirius found out he was even thinking about his little brother like that. He was sure Sirius would be furious, and the thought of that only made the pressure inside his chest build higher.

Chapter Text

July 29th

Regulus came downstairs later than usual, the house already quiet. He’d slept in for the first time in a long time, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up with him. The smell of coffee lingered faintly in the air, and as he entered the living room, he found James sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, a book balanced precariously on his chest. His legs were stretched out, socked feet crossed at the ankles.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, stepping into the room. “Where’s Sirius?”

James glanced up from the book, his hazel eyes bright in the morning light. “He went out with Remus.”

Regulus leaned casually against the arm of the chair opposite James. “Why didn’t you go with him?”

James shrugged, closing the book with a soft thud and setting it on the arm of the couch. “Didn’t feel like leaving the house today.”

Regulus gave him a curious look, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Bet they just wanted to be alone,” he joked, his tone light but teasing.

James snorted, shooting him a knowing look, but didn’t offer a response. That said enough.

As Regulus settled into the chair, he glanced at the book James had been reading, the cover familiar. His brow furrowed slightly. “Is that… Alchemy: Theory and Application?”

James grinned sheepishly, lifting the book to inspect the cover like he didn’t already know. “Er—yeah.”

Regulus blinked, surprised. “I finished that a few days ago. Why are you reading it?”

There was a slight flush creeping up James’s neck as he rubbed the back of it. “I don’t know… You just looked so entranced by it when you were reading it. Made me curious.”

Regulus stared at him, caught off guard by the honest answer and then shook his head with a faint laugh. “Well, how is it?”

James chuckled, tossing the book onto the couch beside him as though relieved to put it down. “In my opinion? Quite boring.”

Regulus couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up, warm and genuine. “How can you find it boring? It’s interesting. Knowledgeable.”

James grinned, leaning back against the couch with an exaggerated groan. “I can hardly follow along. Way too many big words.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Merlin, the education system really has failed you.”

James laughed, the sound light and easy, and Regulus found himself laughing too, the sound blending into the quiet hum of the house.

For a while, they talked about nothing in particular. It was easy. Comfortable. 

James leaned forward, “Have you seen the mountain in the sink?”

Regulus’s nose wrinkled. “You mean the one Sirius clearly been pretending doesn’t exist?”

“That’s the one.” James sighed dramatically. “Mum’s going to have our heads for it later. She doesn’t tolerate chaos in her kitchen.”

“She’ll have Sirius’s head,” Regulus corrected, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ve barely been here two weeks. I think she’ll spare me.”

James laughed, shaking his head. “She’ll find a way to blame both of us, mark my words. And he’ll stand there looking like a kicked puppy, and I’ll end up scrubbing a week’s worth of dishes because I can’t handle the guilt.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Oh, loads of times.” James leaned back with a grin. “It’s practically a ritual at this point. Sirius wreaks havoc, I clean it up, Mum forgives us both because she secretly thinks he’s funny.”

Regulus let out a quiet laugh, the sound surprising even him. “You make it sound charming.”

James tilted his head, studying him with that easy, open smile. “It’s not so bad when you get used to it.”

For a moment, the conversation trailed off, and the quiet hum of the house filled the space between them. Regulus felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest—something that felt suspiciously like contentment.

Regulus found himself sinking into the feeling, his walls lowering bit by bit. It wasn’t something he was used to lounging, laughing, feeling at ease in someone else’s home. And yet, here he was, curled into the armchair, trading quips with James Potter like it was the most natural thing in the world.

For the first time in years, maybe ever, Regulus realized he felt almost… at home. The thought made something inside him warm and expand, like a fire crackling to life.

“You alright, Reggie?” James’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Regulus looked up, meeting James’s gaze. There was no teasing or mischief in it, only genuine concern. That warmth inside him flickered again. He hesitated for a moment before offering a small, almost shy smile. “Yes” he said simply.

James’s grin spread across his face, wide and unrestrained, the kind that lit up his entire expression. Regulus didn’t look away fast enough. His eyes lingered, tracing the curve of James’s lips, the way his cheeks dimpled. It was captivating, the kind of smile that could melt through even the thickest defenses.

James noticed the look, his brows furrowing slightly in question, but Regulus quickly cleared his throat and glanced away, pretending to adjust his sleeve. “What?” he asked, feigning nonchalance.

“Nothing,” James said, but his grin softened into something quieter, more thoughtful. After a pause, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Hey, you want to help me with something?”

Regulus tilted his head, skeptical. “Depends. What is it?”

“Well…” James rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I was going to clean out the shed for Mum. Sirius and I were supposed to do it weeks ago, but—well, you can guess how that went.” He shot Regulus a knowing look. “Anyway, I thought I’d get it done before she decides to murder us both.”

Regulus stared at him, incredulous. “You want me to clean out a shed?”

James held up his hands, mock defensive. “Not the whole thing. Just… I thought it’d go faster with two people.”

Regulus arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “And why should I agree to this?”

James grinned, leaning back against the couch like he’d already won. “Because I’m irresistible, of course.”

Regulus’s lips twitched, and he tilted his head slightly. “Try again.”

James faltered for just a moment, the sharp glint in Regulus’s gaze catching him off guard. But he leaned forward, recovering quickly with a smirk. “Handsome?”

Regulus hummed faintly, the sound low and almost amused. “Not quite,” he said smoothly, his tone laced with a quiet challenge. His eyes flicked upward, meeting James’s gaze in a way that felt deliberate, almost testing.

James chuckled, the corners of his mouth curling into a wider grin as he stood, closing some of the space between them. “Charming?”

Regulus let out a soft huff, his lips curving ever so slightly. “You’re getting warmer,” he murmured, his amusement now impossible to miss.

James shook his head with a laugh, breaking the tension with a breezy, “Come on, Reggie. It won’t be that bad.”

Regulus didn’t move right away, still leaning back like he wasn’t entirely convinced. “You’re awfully confident for someone asking me for a favor.”

“I’ve got good instincts.” James extended his hand toward him, his grin softer now, though no less certain. “You’ll thank me later.”

Regulus hesitated, eyeing the outstretched hand. He didn’t like messes, and the thought of willingly stepping into one wasn’t exactly appealing. But there was something about the way James looked at him. Hopeful, warm, maybe even a little excited that made him sigh and push himself up from the chair.

“Fine,” he said, brushing past James. “But if I find anything alive in there, you’re dealing with it.”

James laughed, following him toward the back garden. “Deal.”

The shed was as much of a disaster as Regulus had anticipated. Dust clung to every surface, and forgotten tools were scattered haphazardly, tangled with old gardening gloves, boxes, and cobweb-covered jars. Regulus stood in the doorway, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed.

“This is weeks of procrastination?” he asked dryly, glancing sideways at James, who was grinning sheepishly.

“To be fair, we’ve been busy,” James said, nudging open the door further. “With… you know… existing.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but followed him inside, stepping carefully to avoid the clutter. James grabbed a broom from the corner, brushing away a low-hanging web.

“Alright,” James said, gesturing at the mess like a general rallying his troops. “Divide and conquer. You take that side, I’ll take this one?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “You mean I get the cobwebs, and you get the tools? How noble.”

James snorted, tossing him a pair of gloves. “I’ll swap with you if you’re scared of spiders, Reggie.”

“Please,” Regulus drawled, slipping on the gloves. “I’m more concerned about the structural integrity of this shed. One wrong move and it might collapse.”

James laughed, the sound echoing warmly in the small space. Regulus couldn’t help the slight quirk of his lips before turning his attention to a dusty shelf lined with old jars.

They worked in companionable silence at first, the occasional sound of shifting boxes or clinking tools filling the space. But James, ever restless, couldn’t stay quiet for long.

“So,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as he sorted through a box of rusted trowels. “What’s something you’re actually interested in? Besides books with too many big words.”

Regulus paused, pulling out a jar filled with what looked like shriveled roots. “Learning. Writing. Potions.” he said simply, wiping dust off the glass.

“Right, you’re working on that potions book.” James leaned casually against the wall, watching Regulus closely. “How’s that going?”

For the first time, Regulus’s expression softened, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. “It’s fascinating, actually. There’s this section on experimental brews—combinations most people wouldn’t think to try. The writer theorizes that some of the most effective potions come from breaking convention.”

James didn’t understand half of what Regulus was saying, but he liked the way his voice changed when he spoke about something he cared about.

“Breaking convention, huh?” James said, leaning down to move a stack of crates out of the way. “Sounds like my kind of thing.”

Regulus huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m not sure you’d have the patience for it.”

“Try me,” James said, grinning. “What’s one of the potions? Something cool.”

Regulus turned slightly, resting one hand on the shelf as he considered. “There’s a variant of Veritaserum that only works for a limited time. It’s less stable but harder to detect in a person’s system.”

“Veritaserum?” James asked, his brows furrowing. “The truth potion?”

Regulus nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Yes. The variant has uses for… subtler applications.”

James chuckled. “Sounds dangerous. You’re not planning to slip it into anyone’s tea, are you?”

“Not unless they deserve it,” Regulus replied dryly, though there was a glimmer in his eyes.

James laughed again, moving to the other side of the shed to clear more clutter. He kept sneaking glances at Regulus as he worked, watching the way his long fingers moved over the jars and tools, the way his dark hair fell slightly into his eyes as he leaned forward.

James let his eyes trail down Regulus’s body for a moment. His slim frame, the way the muscles in his arms flexed subtly when he lifted something heavy. Images of the soaked white shirt clinging to Regulus’s chest from the other day flashed unbidden in his mind, and he felt a rush of heat crawl up his neck.

He quickly turned his attention back to the boxes he was sorting, muttering something to himself under his breath.

“You alright over there?” Regulus asked, glancing up.

James cleared his throat, forcing a grin. “Yeah. Just… cobweb in my face.” He waved a hand vaguely around his head for effect.

Regulus gave him a skeptical look but said nothing, returning to his task.

“So, do you think you’ll ever brew one of those experimental potions?” James asked, desperate to keep the conversation flowing.

Regulus tilted his head, considering. “Maybe. Though I’d probably start with something less volatile. Brewing’s like—well, it’s precise. It’s a balance of risk and reward. You can’t just throw things together and hope for the best.”

James smirked, leaning against a crate as he watched Regulus talk. “See, that’s why I’d be rubbish at it. I don’t do ‘precise.’”

Regulus rolled his eyes but couldn’t help a small smile. “No, I imagine you wouldn’t.”

James grinned, pleased that he’d coaxed a smile out of him. “Still, I’d watch. Maybe take notes. You know, in case you accidentally blow something up.”

“Your confidence in me is astounding,” Regulus joked, though his voice held a hint of amusement.

James laughed, the sound light and easy, and for a moment, the tension he’d felt earlier melted away. He didn’t think about the fact that he’d been staring at Regulus for far too long, or how his heart had stuttered when Regulus smiled.

He just enjoyed the moment, basking in the sound of Regulus’s voice and the warmth of his company.

The two of them had made decent progress clearing the shed. Regulus stood near the corner, eyeing an old box precariously perched on a high shelf. It looked as though one wrong touch might send the whole thing toppling.

“You think this is salvageable?” James asked, holding up a rusty cauldron he’d found buried under a stack of tattered rags.

Regulus glanced over and frowned. “Hardly. Unless you want to brew tetanus.”

James chuckled, tossing the cauldron aside. “Fair enough. Alright, what about that one?” He gestured toward the box Regulus had been inspecting.

“I’m not sure it’s worth the risk,” Regulus admitted, brushing his hands off and stepping back slightly.

James raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Regulus shot him a look. “I like my adventure within reason. I’d rather not have an avalanche of junk bury me alive.”

“Reason is overrated,” James teased, leaning back against a workbench. “Besides, you’re not going to let a box defeat you, are you?”

Regulus sighed, shaking his head. He reached for the box cautiously, his fingers hesitating just below the edge. James stepped closer, standing just behind him, his presence warm and solid at Regulus’s back.

“That’s it,” James said encouragingly, his voice low and easy. “Good boy.”

The words were so casual, so offhand, that Regulus didn’t register them at first. But then James leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against the nape of Regulus’s neck, and the words hit him like a spell.

Regulus froze. Just as the box slipped from his fingers, his back collided with James’s front. James steadied him instinctively, his hands grabbing Regulus’s hips as the box crashed to the floor, shattering glass and spilling its contents.

“Shit,” Regulus muttered, stepping forward and away, his pulse thundering in his ears.

“You alright?” James asked quickly, his tone concerned. His hand closed gently around Regulus’s wrist, stopping him before he could retreat further. “You didn’t cut yourself, did you?”

The warmth of James’s fingers wrapped around his wrist was electric, his grip firm but careful, and Regulus’s breath hitched. He shook his head quickly, his voice coming out strained. “No—I’m fine.”

James frowned, not convinced. “Let me see.” He tugged Regulus’s arm closer, inspecting it for any sign of injury. The proximity was overwhelming. James was standing so close now, his head tilted down to look at Regulus’s arm, their faces just inches apart.

Regulus’s entire body tensed. The feeling of James’s hand on his skin, his thumb brushing lightly over his wrist, sent another flush of heat rushing through him. His chest was tight, his stomach twisting, and his blood was moving south in a way that was absolutely not welcome in this moment.

James glanced up from Regulus’s arm, his hazel eyes meeting Regulus’s, his brow furrowed in concern. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

Regulus all but ripped his hand away. The movement was sudden and jerky, and he stumbled back a step, his body brushing against James’s again as he tried to put space between them. His cheeks burned, and the words good boy echoed in his mind like a siren.

Their faces were too close. The air between them was too warm. Regulus’s mind was spinning, and his body was betraying him in ways he couldn’t control.

“I just… I need a moment,” Regulus mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

James stepped back, his concern deepening. “What’s wrong, Reg?“

Regulus avoided his gaze, already halfway out of the shed. “I—uh, I think I skipped breakfast. I should go eat something.”

Before James could respond, Regulus slipped out of the shed, his heart racing as he hurried back toward the house.

James stood there for a moment, baffled. He glanced back at the broken glass, then at the door. “Weird,” he muttered, shaking his head.

As he bent down to start cleaning up the mess, his mind wandered back to Regulus. The way he’d tensed, the way he’d darted out without meeting James’s eyes, it didn’t sit right with him.

James stood there, broom in hand, sweeping absently across the floor as his mind replayed the earlier moment with Regulus. He couldn’t help but go over the way their bodies had been so close, how Regulus’s breath had caught when he leaned in, how that strange flicker of tension had been almost palpable between them.

He frowned, trying to piece it together. Did I say something wrong? He raked a hand through his hair, groaning under his breath, slamming the broom against the floor in frustration. 

                *  ~   *   ~  *

Regulus burst out of the shed, tearing his gloves off and tossing them onto the patio without a second thought. His legs carried him into the house on autopilot, his mind a chaotic swirl of sensations and memories that he couldn’t control.

Once he reached his room, he closed the door behind him with a sharp click, leaning his back against it as his chest heaved. He pressed his palms flat against the wood, his breath leaving him in quick bursts.

The words played over and over in his head, unrelenting. His stomach clenched every time he heard them. The phrase echoed, low and casual, and yet it felt like it had burrowed under his skin, lighting every nerve on fire.

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, fisting his hair with both hands as if he could physically wrench the thought from his mind.

He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that.

But the logic did nothing to quell the heat coursing through him, nor did it erase the sensations etched into his memory: the way James’s breath had fanned across the back of his neck, warm and distracting. The solid, grounding pressure of James’s chest against his back when he had stumbled. And, worst of all, the fleeting moment when James’s large hands had steadied him by grabbing his hips.

Regulus groaned, letting his head fall back against the door with a muted thud. He’d barely registered the feeling at the time, too consumed by the embarrassment of dropping the box, but now it replayed in vivid detail.

The heat of James’s palms, the way his fingers had pressed into Regulus’s sides firm, sure, big.

Another jolt shot through him at the memory, and he bit his lip, clenching his fists tighter in his hair. Get it together. He didn’t mean anything by it. He was just helping.

He took a shaky breath, trying to calm his racing heart, but it was no use. His mind wouldn’t stop conjuring images of James—his warm, concerned eyes, the little crease in his brow as he’d inspected Regulus’s arm, the way his voice had softened, saying, “You’re sure you’re alright?”

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair how effortless James was, how he could say something so simple, so stupid, and make Regulus’s entire body betray him.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Regulus slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor, his head resting against his knees. Pull it together, he told himself firmly. You cannot let this happen. 

The very thought sent a fresh wave of anxiety through him. James was Sirius’s best friend, practically his brother. This…this would never work.

Regulus shook his head violently, pushing the thought away. He couldn’t afford to go there, not now. Instead, he focused on trying to slow his breathing, to ignore the warmth still curling in his stomach and the way his skin prickled at the phantom sensation of James’s hands.

And most of all, he tried desperately, to forget the words that had set this spiral in motion. But no matter how hard he tried, they remained etched in his mind, soft and teasing, as if James were whispering them right into his ear.

“That’s it, good boy.”

               *   ~    *    ~    *

James stood in the shed, wand in hand, staring blankly at the half-finished task before him. He had intended to finish tidying up the place the old-fashioned way, but after Regulus had bolted, his motivation had evaporated. Now, feeling restless and annoyed with himself for whatever he’d done to make Regulus leave, he flicked his wand and muttered a few spells.

Dust whisked itself off the shelves and vanished into the air, boxes rearranged themselves neatly in a corner, and stray tools clinked together as they returned to their proper hooks on the walls. With another swish, James conjured a faint lemony smell to cover up the lingering musty odor.

The shed looked better, but it didn’t ease the tightness in his chest. He pocketed his wand, stepping outside and breathing in the crisp summer air in an attempt to clear his head.

Regulus’s flushed face lingered in his thoughts, the bright pink staining his cheeks and neck like it had been painted there. And the way he’d stammered, avoiding James’s eyes, his movements so uncharacteristically clumsy it was…cute. James’s lips twitched at the thought, even though he felt ridiculous for thinking it.

Cute? Merlin’s sake, what am I even on about?

“Ugh,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. The restless energy swirling inside him wouldn’t quit, needing to move, to focus he strides back to the shed and rummages through a neatly stacked pile, pulling out a pair of dumbbells. He carried them to the back garden, setting them down on the freshly trimmed grass.

Kicking off his trainers, he stretched his arms over his head and rolled his shoulders. The movement sent a familiar ache through his muscles, one that was comforting in its predictability.

James started with a few sit-ups, his muscles loosening with each repetition. The physical exertion helped distract him, giving him something tangible to focus on besides the lingering confusion and the knot of frustration in his chest. But, as he switched to dumbbells, his mind began to wander again.

He thought of the way Regulus’s soft hair had brushed against him when he leaned forward. Or how warm his wrist had felt under James’s fingers when he’d grabbed his arm to inspect it.

James exhaled sharply, his brow furrowing. Every time he looked at Regulus, his brain went fuzzy, like there was some invisible force pulling his attention in that direction. And it wasn’t just the way Regulus looked, which, admittedly, was quite distracting. It was everything about him: the way he spoke, how smart he sounded when he explained things, his dry sense of humor.

James pushed himself harder, trying to drown out the thoughts with exertion. But with each repetition, Regulus’s flushed face kept flashing in his mind, and his heart thumped faster at the memory.

Bloody hell, he thought, his breath coming in quick, measured exhales. Why can’t I stop thinking about him?

He sighed and ran a hand over his damp hair, clouds drifted lazily overhead, but the knot in James’s chest didn’t ease.

                  *   ~    *    ~   *

Regulus had finally managed to collect himself after what felt like an eternity locked away in his room. He’d splashed cold water on his face, paced back and forth until his legs ached, and muttered countless reassurances to himself.

He was still mortified, though, and he’d been content to stay hidden upstairs until Euphemia’s voice floated up from the kitchen.

“Regulus, darling! I made sandwiches for lunch.”

Regulus froze, gripping the banister tightly as he stared down the stairs. For a split second, he considered pretending he hadn’t heard her. He could lie low for a little longer, maybe sneak down after James had come inside.

But he knew better than to keep Euphemia waiting.

Swallowing hard, he descended the stairs and stepped into the kitchen. Euphemia smiled warmly at him from where she stood near the counter, slicing a cucumber.

“Would you mind calling James in? He’s in the back garden,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the window. “He’s been out there all morning.”

Regulus hesitated. “Oh, um…I’m sure he’ll come in on his own eventually.”

Euphemia raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in her eye. “Don’t be silly, Regulus. It’ll only take a moment.”

Regulus’s stomach churned as he nodded reluctantly. “Alright,” he murmured, turning toward the patio door.

Regulus stepped outside, letting the door close softly behind him. The sun was bright, and the warmth of it soaked into his skin, but it did nothing to stop the chill running up his spine. His eyes swept over the garden, searching for James, and then—

Oh.

James was in the middle of a set of push-ups, his shirt tossed carelessly to the side. His bare skin glistened faintly with sweat, muscles flexing and shifting with each movement. His damp hair stuck to his forehead, and the curve of his shoulder blades under the sunlight sent a jolt through Regulus’s chest.

He froze, rooted to the spot as heat climbed up his neck and pooled in his stomach. It was unfair, really, how effortlessly good James looked, his toned arms, the way his back arched slightly when he pushed up.

The soft sounds of his controlled breathing slipped into something else. Small, strained grunts as James began to tire. Each one sent Regulus’s head spinning, thoughts colliding in a chaotic mess. His stomach flipped, and he pressed his lips together, trying to focus on anything else, but the sounds tugged at something deep inside him, impossible to ignore.

Regulus was flushed all over again, every inch of his skin prickling uncomfortably. The words from earlier echoed in his mind. His breath hitched, and he forced himself to look away, eyes darting toward the ground, but that only seemed to make it worse.

James shifted suddenly, turning his head slightly, and his gaze landed on Regulus. He didn’t move right away, staying in his position on the grass, arms bent as he hovered mid-push-up. His lips curved into a small, easy smile.

“Hey,” James said, his voice low and casual, though the furrow in Regulus’s brow caught his attention. He tilted his head slightly. “You good?”

Regulus froze. His mouth opened, but no words came out. His gaze betrayed him almost instantly, drawn to the flex of James’s arms. The way his muscles bulged, taut and steady, holding him in place. It was much too distracting. 

When he didn’t answer, James frowned slightly but didn’t push. Instead, he dropped his eyes back to the ground and finished his last few push-ups in one smooth, controlled motion.

Regulus made a small noise, more of a soft inhale, really and shifted on his feet, trying not to look. But it was too late.

James caught the sound as he pushed himself up and turned to sit back on his heels, wiping his palms on his joggers that dipped down past his hips. Too far really. The motion only managed to pull them down even further and Regulus really couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

James’s gaze flicked to Regulus, catching the weird, almost stricken look on his face.

“Reg?” James’s brows lifted in concern, his voice gentler this time. “You sure you’re alright?”

Regulus felt warmth crawling up the back of his neck, his chest tightening as he struggled to get his thoughts in order. He realized too late that his eyes had wandered again, trailing down the length of James’s torso, taking in the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his bare skin.

“Y-Yeah,” Regulus stammered, forcing himself to meet James’s eyes. He gestured vaguely over his shoulder, his movements jerky. “Lunch is, uh…ready.”

James blinked, studying him for a beat longer. Regulus’s cheeks were red, flushed in a way that made him look overheated.

“Right,” James said finally, pushing himself to his feet with ease. He didn’t bother reaching for his shirt just yet, instead swiping his arm across his forehead to catch the damp strands of hair sticking there. 

As he straightened, Regulus’s eyes betrayed him, sliding down to the broad expanse of James’s chest. His skin glistened, the sweat catching the sunlight in a way that made him look golden. Then James lifted a hand, raking his fingers through his damp hair. His bicep flexed, the movement making the muscle ripple, and Regulus felt like the ground beneath him had disappeared entirely.

Stop looking. He wrenched his eyes away, willing the blush to stay hidden under his pale skin.

James grabbed his discarded shirt, draping it over his shoulder. He gave Regulus a small, sheepish smile as he walked toward him, his steps slow and unhurried.

Regulus didn’t trust himself to meet James’s eyes, so he turned quickly, heading toward the house with stiff, purposeful strides.

“Hey, wait up,” James called, following behind him.

Regulus bit the inside of his cheek, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He didn’t dare turn around, his thoughts racing as he tried desperately to get his face under control before they went inside.

James trailed after him, his gaze flickering between Regulus’s tense shoulders and the back of his neck. 

Regulus was grateful, mercifully so, when they reached the kitchen and James finally tugged the shirt back on. Regulus exhaled a quiet breath of relief as they entered. His thoughts had been entirely too loud since the moment he’d glanced outside.

Euphemia greeted them with a warm smile, gesturing to the table where she’d laid out sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice. Fleamont was already seated, reading the paper as he nibbled on a sandwich.

“Finally,” Euphemia teased as she glanced at James. “Thought I’d have to send search parties to find you.” 

James chuckled lightly, brushing the back of his neck. “Just lost track of time,” he said as he dropped into a chair, giving Regulus a small glance as he passed. Regulus ignored it, sliding into his own seat across the table.

For a few moments, the room was filled with the sounds of Fleamont’s paper. James focused on eating, grateful for the temporary distraction.

“Fleamont,” Regulus said after a beat, breaking the silence. “You mentioned before that your old cauldron is still in good shape. I was wondering if I could use it? I’d like to try brewing something.”

Fleamont lowered his paper, smiling warmly. “Of course, lad. It’s yours whenever you need it. What are you thinking of brewing?”

“Just a few basics to start,” Regulus replied. “I don’t want to attempt anything complicated right away. Something simple—like a few healing draughts.”

“That’s a solid choice,” Fleamont said approvingly. “Healing draughts are versatile, and you can tweak them in many ways.”

James leaned back in his chair, his shirt now clinging to his skin from the heat. Regulus caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and quickly shifted his attention to his glass of pumpkin juice, pretending to focus intently on pouring himself a drink.

James’ eyes, however, were fixed on Regulus. He wasn’t even trying to pretend he wasn’t staring. Something about the way Regulus spoke held him captivated. He especially loved when Regulus looked at him while he talked. It happened every so often, when those sharp eyes would flick toward him, meeting his gaze like it was the most natural thing in the world.

James decided that was his favorite part. When Regulus’s eyes were on him. When he could feel the weight of his stare, like he could outside. 

“You know,” James said, shifting slightly in his chair. “We can head to the shop after lunch. There’s a place in the village that should have everything you need. That way, you can start brewing tonight.”

Regulus glanced at him, a flicker of surprise softening his features. “That’s considerate,” he said, the words quiet but sincere. The corner of his mouth lifted just slightly, a near-smile that made James’s chest feel uncomfortably warm.

James shrugged, offering a grin. “You seem pretty excited about it. Figured you’d want to get started.”

As Regulus spoke again, detailing the adjustments he wanted to try on some basic recipes, James moved, leaning back slightly so that his knee brushed against Regulus’s under the table. It wasn’t intentional at first, but when Regulus didn’t move away or acknowledge it, James found himself leaving it there.

If anything, it only made listening to Regulus more distracting. The subtle bounce of his leg, barely noticeable unless you were sitting as close as James was, drew his attention. It happened most when Regulus got particularly excited about something, his words would come just a fraction faster, though his voice remained steady and precise.

James found himself drawn to Reggie’s voice more than he wanted to admit. There was a calm, melodic quality to it, even when Regulus was discussing technicalities, and James couldn’t help but find it soothing.

It wasn’t just his voice, though. James’s eyes kept wandering, taking in the way Regulus’s lips moved as he spoke, the faint flicker of emotion in his eyes, and the way his brow furrowed slightly when he focused. James couldn’t help but think how handsome he was, and the thought made his stomach twist.

He’s Sirius’ baby brother. Get over yourself. 

The thought only turned his stomach further. Sirius. James could practically hear his best friend’s voice ringing in his ears, teasing him mercilessly if he ever caught on to where James’s thoughts had been straying lately.

But it wasn’t just that. It was the way Sirius always spoke about Regulus. As someone James was supposed to protect, someone fragile and untouchable. This wasn’t just anyone. This was Regulus fucking Black.

And yet, James couldn’t help himself.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Regulus’s voice broke through James’s spiraling thoughts, sharp enough to drag him back to the present.

James blinked, realizing he’d been staring again. “What?”

“Going to the shop,” Regulus clarified, his gaze fixed on James, slightly puzzled. “You said it’s not far, but I don’t want to drag you along if you have other things to do.”

James felt his chest tighten again, but for an entirely different reason this time. He grinned, waving the concern off as if it were absurd. “I don’t mind. Honestly, it’ll be fun. Besides, it’s a nice day out. Good excuse to stretch our legs.”

Regulus’s expression softened, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For a moment, James felt like he’d accomplished something like that tiny shift in Regulus’s expression was a reward he hadn’t known he wanted.

By the time lunch was over, James pushed his chair back, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to change real quick,” he said, standing. “I’m still gross from earlier, and I don’t think anyone in the shop wants to smell me.”

As he turned and left the kitchen, Regulus’s gaze followed him. Something about the casual way James moved, the effortless energy in every step, held his attention longer than it should have.

“Regulus, dear,” Euphemia said, snapping him back to the present. “Can you help me tidy up a bit before you two leave?”

“Of course,” he replied, standing to collect the plates. It was still earlier in the day, but the idea of starting a new potion made him feel restless and eager.

As he worked alongside Euphemia, Regulus couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering. James had been acting off lately. It wasn’t obvious, at least not to anyone else, but to Regulus, it felt like something had shifted.

The water balloon incident came to mind, unbidden. The way James’s gaze had lingered far too long on him afterward, his expression flickering with something unreadable.

Then there was the shed. Regulus’s cheeks flushed again at the memory of James’s hands on his hips, the low warmth in his voice, and the way he’d looked at him afterward, almost as if…

No. That was ridiculous.

But even as Regulus tried to brush it off, his mind circled back to all the small moments he couldn’t ignore. The wandering eyes, the subtle touches, the way James seemed to hover a little too close.

It was absurd to even consider the possibility. And yet…

A flicker of something unnameable settled in Regulus’s chest, warm and unsettling all at once. He focused on the plates in his hands, determined to shove the thought away before it could take root.

But it was too late for that. 

When James came back downstairs, he was freshly changed, but his hair was still an unruly mess. Regulus looked up as he approached, studying him for a moment longer than necessary. James had a boyish charm about him something that was disarming, even when Regulus didn’t want it to be.

“Ready?” James asked, his grin easy, and Regulus nodded, standing from where he’d been leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Walk or fly?” Regulus asked as they stepped out the door, glancing over at James.

“Walk,” James said without hesitation. “It’s only about ten minutes or so. Besides, the weather’s nice.”

Regulus hummed in agreement, adjusting his sleeves as they walked. There was a nice breeze, but the sun was warm, and the quiet rustle of leaves filled the space between them.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Regulus said after a beat, his voice soft but sincere.

James turned to him, his grin widening. “Oh, don’t thank me just yet. It comes with a price.”

Regulus glanced at him, brow furrowing slightly in curiosity. “And what price is that?”

James bumped his shoulder lightly against Regulus’s, the gesture playful. “You have to put up with me.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him with a small twitch of amusement. “Somehow, I think I’ll survive.”

“Survive?” James gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “I thought you loved spending time with me!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Regulus said dryly, but the slight laugh that followed undermined his words.

James mock-staggered, as if the words were a physical blow. “Wow, harsh. And here I thought we were bonding.”

Regulus shook his head, fighting the urge to smile. “Always with the theatrics. Do you ever stop?”

“Nope. And inspite of that you wanted me to come with,” James pointed out, his tone light but teasing. “I must not be that bad.”

Regulus didn’t reply immediately, instead glancing up at James, his expression soft and deliberate. The look wasn’t obvious, just subtle enough to feel innocent.

James faltered, his steps slowing for half a second before he caught himself. His gaze flickered down to Regulus, then quickly away, like he was trying not to stare.

Regulus filed the reaction away in his mind, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

James cleared his throat, determined to keep the mood light. “So,” he started, his voice a little too loud, “Since you’re obviously so excited about it, tell me more about your potion.”

Regulus tilted his head thoughtfully, his gaze steady on James now. “I’m starting simple like I said, I thought it might be useful, especially if I’m rusty after not brewing for a few months.”

“Rusty?” James repeated with a grin. “You? Doubt it.”

Regulus let out a quiet laugh. “Potions require precision, Potter.”

“Are you implying I’m careless?” James asked, his tone mock-wounded.

“I’m not implying anything,” Regulus replied smoothly, though the amusement in his eyes was unmistakable.

James laughed, the sound warm and easy. But even as he joked, he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting back to Regulus. His mind nagged at him, the voice stern and insistent. Sirius. 

He tried to focus on the conversation, on keeping things light, but it wasn’t working. Not when Regulus looked up at him again, those sharp gray eyes almost soft in the moment, and James felt his chest tighten.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” Regulus noted, his tone casual but sharp enough to pull James out of his thoughts.

James blinked, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it. “Sorry,” he said quickly, his grin returning. “I was just thinking it’s been a while since I brewed anything myself. Maybe I should let you teach me a thing or two.”

Regulus smirked, his lips twitching upward. “That’s probably for the best. I’d hate to see what your idea of ‘brewing’ looks like.”

“Oh, you’d be impressed,” James teased, bumping his shoulder against Regulus’s again.

Regulus didn’t move away, didn’t even flinch. Instead, he let the faintest smile linger on his lips, his mind racing despite the ease of their banter.

James shook off the lingering tension in his chest, forcing himself to focus on the path ahead. But as they walked, their shoulders brushing occasionally, he couldn’t quite shake the thought that he’d never felt quite like this about anyone before. 

The door to the apothecary creaked softly as Regulus stepped inside, James following close behind. The air was thick with the scent of dried herbs and potions ingredients, shelves lined with neatly labeled jars, vials, and pouches. A bell above the door jingled, announcing their arrival.

Regulus took the lead, his gaze scanning the rows of shelves with a practiced eye. “I’ll need asphodel, moonstone powder, and powdered bicorn horn to start. Why don’t you grab the moonstone and asphodel? I’ll find the bicorn horn.”

James raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Bossy, aren’t you?”

Regulus shot him a pointed look over his shoulder, but the corners of his lips twitched in amusement. “Just trying to make use of you. You did insist on coming.”

That comment most certainly did not prompt any inappropriate thoughts in James as he headed off to gather the ingredients. He busied himself rummaging through the shelves, determinedly ignoring any stray musings about Regulus’s voice or the way he’d said precision matters.

Meanwhile, Regulus let his gaze linger on James’s broad shoulders and easy movements, the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind. It wouldn’t hurt to test him, just a little… would it?

Regulus knew he probably shouldn’t be entertaining this idea. After all, James was Sirius’s best friend. But the way James had left him spiraling earlier, with that little comment in the shed, and then the garden. It was almost impossible not to entertain the thought. 

Maybe it was just curiosity. Or maybe it was the challenge. Regulus told himself it was innocent, just a bit of fun. He could easily brush it off if it didn’t go anywhere. But there was something about the possibility of James wanting him that was… intriguing.

When James returned a few minutes later, arms full of supplies, Regulus was already standing on his toes, reaching for a jar of dried belladonna leaves on the top shelf. His fingers brushed the bottom of the jar that he didn’t really need. 

He turned, glancing up at James with a calculated softness in his expression, his voice smooth and unassuming. “Will you grab that for me, Jamie?”

The nickname rolled off his tongue like silk, and he kept his voice deliberately sweet, his big, innocent eyes wide as he met James’s gaze.

James froze. No one had called him that in years. Usually only his mum when he was a kid. He should’ve hated it, but hearing it from Regulus made his stomach flip.

“Uh, yeah,” James managed, his voice lower than usual as he reached up to retrieve the jar. He handed it to Regulus, who took it with a faint smile that didn’t seem as innocent as his tone had been.

“Thank you,” Regulus added, purposefully letting his gaze flicker from James' lips to his eyes. Testing the waters further, watching as James swallowed hard and nodded, averting his eyes.

James shook his head slightly as if to clear it. “Anything else, Your Highness? Or is this your way of getting me to do all the work?”

Regulus smirked, turning back to the shelves. “You’re doing a decent job so far. Might as well keep going.”

As they moved through the store, James trailed a step behind Regulus, the basket of ingredients in hand. When Regulus paused to grab a pouch of valerian root, he stepped backward deliberately, his back pressing lightly against James’s chest. The contact was fleeting but precise, and James’s hands twitched at his sides, an instinctive urge to reach for Regulus’s waist nearly overwhelming him.

Luckily, Regulus stepped away before James did something completely idiotic.

“So, what does valerian root do?” James asked, trying to focus on anything other than how small and perfect Regulus had felt against him.

“It depends,” Regulus replied, his tone shifting into something softer and more thoughtful. “In calming draughts, it helps relax the mind, but in sleep potions, it strengthens the effects of other ingredients. It’s also used in some healing salves, though not as often.”

James tilted his head. “So, same ingredient, different effects depending on what you mix it with?”

“Exactly,” Regulus said, glancing at him with a faint smile. “Potions are about balance and intention. One wrong ingredient, one slight miscalculation, and the entire thing could go horribly wrong.”

James couldn’t help but admire the way Regulus spoke, his voice steady and confident. He looked at Regulus’s profile, the way his lips moved, and realized he didn’t just like listening to him talk, he loved it. Especially when Regulus was passionate. 

“You’re really good at this,” James said quietly, surprising himself with the sincerity in his voice.

Regulus blinked, looking at him with a hint of surprise. “Good at what?”

“Potions. Explaining things.” James shrugged, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “I guess just… knowing stuff.”

Regulus huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Hardly impressive.”

“It is to me,” James said simply, his voice warm, and Regulus had to turn away, a faint flush creeping up his neck. He didn’t respond, he didn’t have to. They just kept drifting through the isles. 

James was now studying a display of already-brewed potions, picking up a vial of bright orange liquid and turning it over in his hands curiously.

Behind him, Regulus crouched down to inspect a row of jars on the bottom shelf. But instead of bending forward, he lowered himself deliberately to his knees, his movements unhurried. Smirking to himself as his long fingers brushed against the glass as he studied the labels, his dark hair falling slightly into his face.

When James turned back, his breath caught in his throat when Regulus glanced up at him through his lashes, his gray eyes wide and innocent. James’s heart stopped entirely. The angle was… well, it was perfect for thoughts he had absolutely no business entertaining. 

Especially not here. Or now.

Get a grip. His mind screamed at him, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Especially not when Regulus tilted his head ever so slightly, his lips parting as if he were about to say something, but didn’t. Instead, he ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip in a quick, thoughtless gesture, as if to wet it.

James’s heart slammed against his ribcage. His imagination betrayed him instantly, filling his mind with images that made his cheeks burn and his pulse quicken.

Regulus straightened his back slightly, still kneeling, his gaze locked on James as if testing him. “Something wrong, James?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

James stammered, dropping his eyes to the vial in his hand and trying desperately to shove all inappropriate thoughts out of his mind. 

“Uh—no! Nothing. I just… saw something over there that I, um, wanted to look at.” His words tumbled out in a rush as he turned on his heel and practically fled to the opposite side of the store.

Regulus bit back a laugh, rising to his feet with the jar in hand. He glanced at James’s retreating form, a soft chuckle escaping him. Hopeless. The man was absolutely hopeless. If Regulus had any lingering doubts before, they were completely erased now. 

James definitely wanted him. 

He continued shopping, watching James from the corner of his eye as he fumbled across the store. Visibly worked up, his face and ears red. Regulus found himself being pleased. Not only with James' reaction to something so simple, but also with the new found information. 

When James returned minutes later, his cheeks were still faintly flushed, but he tried to act normal, asking casually, “What’s your favorite potion you’ve ever brewed?”

Regulus set the jar into the basket James was still holding, his expression thoughtful. “That’s a hard question. There’s something satisfying about brewing the Draught of Living Death—it’s intricate, demanding, and when done right, it’s almost… beautiful.” He glanced at James, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But I think my favorite was a simple Calming Draught. The first time I brewed it, I remember feeling proud of myself because it actually worked.”

James tilted his head, intrigued. “You like a challenge, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?” Regulus replied. “What about you? Any great skills I should know about?”

“I can charm my socks to fold themselves,” James said, grinning. “Pretty advanced magic, if you ask me.”

Regulus huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he reached for another jar. “That explains a lot about you, actually.”

James chuckled, falling silent for a moment before asking more seriously, “Did you always know you loved potions? Like, is it something you’d want to do professionally? A Potions Master, maybe?”

Regulus hesitated, his fingers lingering on the edge of a shelf. “It would be nice,” he admitted softly. “But I haven’t had much time to think about a profession. My parents were… focused on other things.” His voice grew quieter at the end, a shadow crossing his face.

James felt the shift immediately and decided to steer the conversation away. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’d be brilliant at it,” he said lightly, nudging Regulus with the basket. “And I’ll be your first customer, assuming you don’t poison me, of course.”

Regulus snorted, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tempt me.”

By the time they approached the counter to check out, James had managed to ease the mood back into something lighthearted. He cracked a joke about one of the shop’s “suspiciously green” premade potions, earning a small laugh from Regulus.

As they stepped outside, James let out a deep breath, trying to push away the lingering images from earlier. Regulus walked beside him, his expression serene, though James couldn’t help but notice the faintest curve of amusement on his lips.

Regulus was testing him. And James was failing spectacularly.

                  *   ~   *   ~   *

Later that evening, the workshop was alive with the soft crackle of flames and the rhythmic clinking of glass as Regulus worked. He’d laid out every ingredient with care, their precise arrangement a testament to his methodical nature.

James wandered in, his hands shoved into his pockets as he leaned against the doorway. “So, Sirius sent an owl. Said he’s staying at Remus’ tonight.”

Regulus didn’t look up, focused on crushing a pinch of dried asphodel with the mortar and pestle. “Good for him,” he said lightly. “I assume that means he won’t be barging in here and interrupting my work.”

James grinned. “Exactly. Which means you’re stuck with me instead.”

Regulus finally glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “I’m starting to wonder if you’re the worse alternative.”

“Rude,” James said, acting offended. “I’m actually quite helpful.”

“You’re distracting,” Regulus corrected, though his tone lacked any real bite.

James’s grin widened, his hazel eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, am I now?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but James wasn’t about to let it go. He crossed his arms casually, but there was a suggestive edge to his tone when he spoke again. “What exactly about me is distracting?”

Regulus arched an eyebrow, fixing James with a flat stare. “Your inability to shut up, for one.”

James gasped dramatically, “And here I thought I was charming.”

“Charming to yourself, maybe,” Regulus shot back, turning his attention back to the book he had open on his desk. 

“What are we making tonight?” James replied, pulling up a stool and sitting down. 

Regulus sighed, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “A restorative potion. Nothing complicated.”

James leaned forward, watching as Regulus measured out a shimmering powder. “What’s that one do?”

“Enhances the potion’s ability to heal minor wounds,” Regulus said, sprinkling it in with a practiced hand. “It’s delicate, though. Add too much, and it’ll destabilize the mixture.”

James hummed thoughtfully. “Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“It’s precision,” Regulus corrected, giving him a pointed look. “Which is why I don’t let amateurs touch it.”

“Ouch,” James joked. 

Regulus handed him a small root, his expression neutral but his tone firm. “Here. Slice this.”

James took the root and knife, hesitating for a moment before lining to the balde. He’d barely made contact before Regulus interrupted him. 

“You don’t cut it like that, Jamie,” Regulus said softly, moving to step behind him, reaching out to guide James’s hands. His chest brushed against James’s back lightly as he corrected his movements, leaning in just enough to make James hyper-aware of every point of contact. The smell of Regulus’ cologne filled his senses and clouded his mind, holding him ransom. 

“There,” Regulus murmured, his voice low and steady, breath lightly ghosting across the side of James’ neck. The subtle warmth of it sent an involuntary shiver down James’ spine. “Try it now.”

James swallowed hard, his throat dry, the air suddenly feeling thicker around them. He nodded, forcing his focus back to the task at hand as he mimicked the precise motion Regulus had just shown him. His hands moved carefully, and to his relief, and pride, he got it right on the first try.

Regulus gave a quiet, “That’s it, good.” His tone was soft yet approving, and James felt an unexpected warmth bloom in his chest. He liked that. He wanted to hear it again.

“So, I’m pretty decent at this, huh?” James said, turning to glance at Regulus, a lopsided grin spreading across his face.

Regulus rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance in the gesture, only a trace of amusement. “You’re tolerable.”

“Tolerable?” James repeated, feigning deep offense, “Come on, I deserve better than that.”

Regulus tilted his head, pretending to consider it, though the faintest hint of a smirk played on his lips. “You’re competent,” he amended, his tone as dry as ever.

“Competent? That’s barely better!” James teased, his grin widening as he leaned closer, his confidence growing by the second.

Regulus’s gray eyes glinted with something like amusement, and James felt a strange thrill at the sight. “Would you prefer ‘remarkable’?” Regulus asked, his voice carrying a teasing edge now.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” James shot back, puffing up his chest as if he’d just won some kind of award.

Regulus leaned forward slightly, his smirk widening into something more deliberate, more smug. “Remarkable might be a stretch.”

James narrowed his eyes at him, the playful tension between them thickening. “Careful, Reggie. You’re pushing it.”

Regulus gave a light shrug, his attention sliding lazily back to the potion in front of them. “I like pushing,” he said, his voice quieter, almost thoughtful. “You’re so easy to fluster.”

James stared at him, momentarily caught off guard by the shift in tone, by the glimmer of something both challenging and deeply entertaining in Regulus’s expression. It wasn’t just the words that hit him. It was the way Regulus delivered them, calm and assured, with just enough smugness to leave James reeling.

James’s confidence wavered for a split second, but he recovered quickly, his grin widening. “Is that right? Funny, because you’re looking a little flustered yourself.”

Regulus paused mid-motion, his fingers tightening slightly on the stirring rod before he glanced at James over his shoulder. “Am I?”

James leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms and fixing Regulus with an easy grin. “Yeah. Just a bit.”

For half a heartbeat, Regulus’s smirk faltered, and James caught the faintest flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe, or surprise. But then Regulus turned back to the cauldron, his movements deliberate as he resumed stirring. “You’re imagining things,” he said coolly, though his voice carried a slightly sharper edge than before.

James chuckled under his breath, leaning forward again as he watched Regulus measure ingredients with practiced care. “If you say so,” he teased.

There was a beat of quiet, the room settling as the faint bubbling of the potion filled the space. James watched the way Regulus’s fingers moved deftly, the precise way he worked, and found himself wanting to say something anything, to break the strange tension lingering between them.

“So,” James said after a moment, eager to change the subject and distract himself from the way his chest felt too tight, “what’s your favorite thing about all of this?” He gestures at the splay on ingredients and tools on the table.

Regulus didn’t look up immediately, his focus remaining on the potion as he stirred it in precise, methodical circles. “It’s logical, but there’s creativity to it. You follow the rules, but you can experiment within them. There’s a balance to it.”

James tilted his head, intrigued. “Sounds a bit like you.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, finally sparing James a glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

James shrugged, his grin softening into something more genuine. “You’ve got that balance too. You’re careful and calculated, but then you throw in these little moments that catch people off guard. Keeps everyone on their toes.”

Regulus blinked, clearly not expecting the compliment, and turned back to the potion, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

“Sure it is,” James insisted, leaning his elbows on the table. “You’re like… a human potion. Bit mysterious, bit explosive.”

Regulus scoffed, “You’re terrible at analogies.”

“Probably,” James admitted with a grin, watching the corner of Regulus’s mouth twitch in amusement. “But I’m right, aren’t I?”

Regulus didn’t answer, but the silence felt far from dismissive. James leaned back on his stool, watching him with a faint grin.

“Here,” Regulus said, passing James a small pile of dried ingredients. “Crush these.”

James grabbed a blade and started to press down, only for Regulus to stop him with a sharp, “Don’t be a brute about it, Potter.”

James arched an eyebrow. “A brute?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, stepping closer to him. “Crush it gently with the edge of your blade. Like this,” he said, demonstrating with his own hand before stepping back to let James try.

James did his best, pressing the blade down carefully and glancing at Regulus for confirmation.

Regulus leaned in, his face far too close for James’s comfort. Or sanity. He watched James’s movements with a discerning eye, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “That’s it, Jamie,” he said softly.

James’s hands nearly trembled. He tightened his grip on the blade to steady himself, wondering for the hundredth time what on Merlin’s green earth was wrong with him. He wasn’t the type to get flustered. He was confident, almost recklessly so, but now he felt like a first-year who’d accidentally stepped into the wrong class.

Summoning what he hoped was his usual Gryffindor courage, he gave Regulus a sidelong look. “Satisfied?”

“For now,” Regulus replied, the corner of his mouth twitching upward before he stood and turned to grab one of Fleamont’s tools from the top shelf.

He didn’t quite have the height to reach it, but he wasn’t going to ask for help. As Regulus reached, he misjudged the angle and lost his balance, his foot catching awkwardly on the edge of the stool he grabbed.

“Whoa, easy,” James said, catching him in an instant. His hands landed firmly on Regulus’s waist, steadying him before he could fall.

Regulus froze, every muscle in his body tense as James’s hands settled firmly on his waist. His grip was steady, strong enough to hold him in place yet not constricting. Regulus couldn’t quite process how James’s hands seemed to encompass his waist entirely, as if they’d been made to fit there. His mind raced, his breath caught somewhere in his throat, but outwardly, he remained perfectly still.

James wasn’t faring much better. Regulus’s waist was impossibly small, delicate in a way that didn’t seem real. James felt an ache in his palms, a pull to let his fingers tighten, to feel more of the sharp angles and soft edges beneath his grip. It took every ounce of his willpower not to give in, not to pull him closer.

“Careful, Reg,” James murmured, his voice dipping lower than he intended, rougher at the edges. He guided Regulus back onto his feet with ease, but he didn’t let go. “Must be a good thing I’m here.”

Regulus tilted his chin, meeting James’s gaze with a haughty arch of his brow, determined to dismiss the moment before it swallowed him whole. “Hardly, Potter,” he said coolly, brushing off the tension like it was nothing. “I’d manage.”

James chuckled, low and soft, the sound reverberating through the space between them. “Yeah, manage to break something,” he teased, the corners of his mouth pulling into a grin that sent a strange twist through Regulus’s chest.

Regulus opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, James leaned in. His hands tightened just slightly instinctively as he brought himself closer to Regulus’s back. His voice was quieter now, softer, the playful edge giving way to something else entirely. “Admit it,” James murmured, his breath brushing against the shell of Regulus’s ear, “you’re glad I’m here, Reggie.”

Regulus’s lips parted, but no words came out. He could feel James’s warmth at his back, his breath against his skin, and for one heart-stopping moment, he couldn’t think.

“Keep dreaming, Potter,” Regulus finally managed, his voice sharp but quieter than intended, betraying the hitch in his breath.

James pulled back with a satisfied grin, finally releasing his hold. But even as he stepped away, his hands tingled with the ghost of Regulus’s shape, and his thoughts were spinning in ways they shouldn’t have been.

Regulus turned back to the counter, his movements sharp and purposeful, but his pulse was erratic, and the spot where James’s hands had been felt unbearably cold. He focused on the potion before him, determined to steady himself, though the faint flush in his cheeks betrayed him entirely.

James ran a hand through his already messy hair, fighting the heat creeping up his neck. His mind was at war with itself, alternating between scolding him for his thoughts and pulling up images of how Regulus had felt under his hands. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying and failing to shake the feeling of how perfectly Regulus had fit against him.

For the rest of the brewing session, the air between them felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Every accidental brush of their hands or stolen glance was amplified, and though neither would admit it aloud.

James had been doing a terrible job of focusing on anything productive. His hands itched to keep busy, but his mind was stuck, replaying fragments of the day like a broken record. 

James couldn’t stop himself from thinking about the moment in the apothecary. The way Regulus had looked up at him, lashes impossibly dark against his pale skin, as he knelt to retrieve an ingredient from the bottom shelf.

It was a simple thing, but the image had burned itself into James’s mind. Regulus had tilted his head slightly, lips parted, his gaze wide and unassuming… and James had been utterly frozen. His thoughts had spiraled in an instant, shamefully vivid, imagining what those pretty lips would look like stretched around his cock.

He clenched his jaw, trying to will the thought away, but it only made him hyper aware of every interaction since. The brief, innocent touch when he’d steadied Regulus earlier replayed in cruel clarity. His hands had gripped sharp hipbones and felt the maddening curve of a narrow waist, and now all James could picture was pressing him against the desk, pinning those damn hips and fucking him senseless.

He’d make Regulus moan oh so prettily, James thought, his breath stilling as he imagined low, breathy sounds spilling from those soft, kissable lips, his head tipped back, throat bared.

James cursed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. This is your best mate’s baby brother, you absolute idiot, he scolded himself, as if the thought alone would chase the images away. It didn’t.

His eyes betrayed him, unwillingly drawn back to Regulus, who stood at the workstation, slicing through ingredients with the kind of precision that bordered on hypnotic. His elegant fingers moved deftly, steady and confident, and James’s mind slipped again, imagining those same hands stroking him, gripping him, pulling him over the edge.

James bit back a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing himself under his breath.

“Stop staring,” Regulus said without looking up, his tone dry but pointed.

James jolted slightly, his cheeks burning. “I’m not staring,” he shot back, his voice coming out a little too defensive, a little too fast.

Regulus finally turned his head to meet James’s eyes, raising a sharp brow. “I can practically feel your eyes burning a hole into the side of my face, Jamie.”

James’s mouth opened, but no words came out. The way Regulus said that name was enough to completely undo him. He was starting to like it all too much. 

Though he’d like it a hell of a lot more if Regulus wasn’t simply saying that name, but whimpering it breathless, needy, undone. He bit the inside of his cheek hard, as though pain might keep his imagination from running wild.

“I wasn’t—” he started again, but Regulus’s cool, knowing gaze froze the words on his tongue.

“Of course not,” Regulus drawled, his voice smooth as silk, his lips twitching like he was holding back a smirk. “Just standing there, glaring holes into the air. Perfectly normal behavior.”

James scoffed, trying to muster some shred of composure. “I wasn’t glaring,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair, his tone defensive but weak.

The smirk deepened, just slightly, and James could swear there was something almost deliberate in the way Regulus turned back to his work. As if he knew exactly how James was falling apart and reveled in it.

James’s gaze betrayed him again, trailing over Regulus’s sharp, elegant features and the graceful way he moved. His hands were precise and steady. Every small quirk of his lips, whether from satisfaction or focus pulled James in further, making it impossible to tear his eyes away for long.

He exhaled a slow, uneven breath and forced himself to turn toward the desk, pretending to busy himself with the supplies he’d gathered. His thoughts, however, remained treacherous. 

Merlin, I’m in trouble.

James was supposed to be helping, but every time he looked at Regulus, he felt like he was cracking further. His mind spun in unrelenting loops, picturing Regulus moaning Jamie in that same maddeningly soft voice.

And Regulus… well, if the slight quirk of his lips meant anything, he knew. And worse, he seemed to enjoy it.

Regulus glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, clearly noticing James’s continued silence. “You’re awfully quiet,” he said, his voice laced with mock innocence. “Thinking hard about something?”

James opened his mouth, ready with some half-hearted quip, but Regulus didn’t give him the chance. “Or someone?” he added, his tone perfectly casual but his smirk anything but.

James sputtered, his face heating again as he scrambled for a retort. “Now you’re imagining things,” he said finally, his voice strained.

Regulus just hummed, a soft, amused sound that sent shivers down James’s spine. He leaned forward slightly, inspecting the next ingredient, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the potion brewing nearby. 

He handed James a small, slightly gnarled …something, its surface lined with ridges and knots. “Dice this,” he said, his tone light but firm, as though he doubted James could pull it off.

James took the root, flipping it in his hand with a mock-casual air. “I’ve got this. Just a bit of slicing, right?”

Regulus raised a brow, already anticipating the disaster. “Finely dice it. As in small, even pieces. Think you can manage that?”

James took the knife and raised a brow at him. “What, no demonstration this time? How will I ever survive without your expert guidance?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, leaning casually against the counter. “If you need me to hold your hand, just say so,” he said dryly.

James smirked, gripping the knife as he leaned just slightly closer to Regulus, his voice low and teasing. “And if I just want you to hold my hand?”

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” Regulus replied coolly, crossing his arms as he watched James turn his attention to the root.

James tried to focus, leaning over the root and muttering to himself as he attempted to navigate its bumpy surface. His first few cuts were… not great. One slice was too thick, the next two uneven, and a few pieces shot off the board entirely.

“Merlin,” Regulus said, stepping closer. “Do you have to maul it? You’re not hacking through a tree.”

“I’m doing fine,” James shot back defensively, though he wasn’t.

Regulus sighed dramatically. “At this rate, you’ll have murdered the root before you’ve diced it.”

“Maybe it deserved it,” James shot back, grinning as he crouched to retrieve the stray piece. “Look at it—bumpy, uncooperative. Much like you, actually.”

Regulus raised a brow, his smirk deepening. “And yet, I seem to be the one keeping you in line.”

James raised a brow at Regulus’s words, a teasing glint in his eyes. His veins felt like they were on fire, a heat that had little to do with the task at hand. He couldn’t help himself; the way Regulus was looking at him, that sharp edge to his voice, made something inside him stir.

“You wish, Reggie,” James replied, his voice light, though the heat simmering just beneath the surface was anything but. He turned back to the root, pretending to concentrate on the task as his hands worked at it, though the slices were anything but smooth.

Regulus sighed, his patience thin but his amusement growing. “Here,” he said, stepping behind James again. “Let me show you before you ruin it completely.”

He reached around James, his chest brushing lightly against James’s back as he took hold of the knife. 

James really could get used to this. Maybe he’d brew with Reggie more often if it meant he'd get to feel this. 

“Like this,” Regulus said softly, his voice low and smooth. “Angle the blade, and make the cuts deliberate. Steady pressure.”

James swallowed hard, his focus wavering when Regulus’s fingers brushed over his wrist, James bit his lip to keep from reacting.

When Regulus stepped back, James felt a strange chill in the absence of his warmth. He took a steadying breath, determined to prove himself. He resumed cutting, this time following Regulus’s instructions. The root began to yield under the blade, the pieces smaller and more uniform.

Regulus watched him, a satisfied smile creeping onto his face. When James finished, he straightened and looked at Regulus, his grin triumphant.

“There. How’s that, professor?”

Regulus stepped closer, inspecting the pieces with a critical eye. He made a soft hum of approval, then looked up at James, his voice dropping just slightly. “Not bad. I’ll admit, you’ve got steady hands.”

James blinked, taken aback by the compliment. He tried to play it cool, leaning against the counter. “Steady hands, huh? I think you’ll find my hands have many talents.”

Regulus smirked, his gaze flicking over James’s face. “I wouldn’t go that far. But credit where it’s due.” He straightened, his lips twitching in amusement as he added, “you’ve been so good for me tonight, Jamie.” 

James nearly dropped the knife. His hand faltered, his breath catching as the words hit him like a Bludger. For a split second, he forgot how to speak, his mind supplying him with every inappropriate thought imaginable.

James replayed the words in his head on an endless loop. It wasn’t just the phrase itself… it was how Regulus said it. The smooth way it rolled off his tongue, like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he’d said it a hundred times before.

But the “for me”? That was what really got him, sinking beneath his skin and lighting him up from the inside. He stared at Regulus, wide-eyed, his brain struggling to form any kind of response.

Regulus, of course, was smug. He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms with an air of casual satisfaction. His smirk widened, his grey eyes glinting like he’d won a game James didn’t even realize they were playing.

“What’s the matter?” Regulus asked, his voice dripping with mock concern. “You were so confident a minute ago.”

James coughed, trying to cover his reaction. “Nothing’s the matter,” he said, his voice a little too high. “Just didn’t expect such high praise from you, Reggie.” 

“Turnabout is fair play,” Regulus replied smoothly, his tone deceptively innocent. “Besides, you seemed to enjoy hearing it.”

James narrowed his eyes, trying to regain his footing. “You’re having way too much fun with this, aren’t you?”

Regulus tilted his head, his smile sharpening. “You make it easy,” he said simply.

James opened his mouth to retort but found himself distracted again, his thoughts spiraling out of control. He couldn’t help but notice how Regulus’s long fingers wrapped around the edge of the counter, and suddenly, his mind only made matters worse. 

James scowled, trying to find his composure. “Careful, Reg. Keep pushing, and I might stop helping altogether.”

Regulus’s smirk only deepened. “Oh, but where would the fun be in that?” he replied, his voice practically dripping with amusement. He leaned closer again, his tone softening just slightly as he added, “You’re not so bad at this, you know.”

James blinked, he tried to play it cool, flashing a crooked grin. “Keep the compliments coming, and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but there was something softer in the gesture. “Don’t push your luck, Potter.”

As they finished prepping the last of the ingredients, Regulus began stirring the potion, his movements careful and deliberate. James leaned against the counter, watching him with unabashed curiosity.

“So,” James began, trying to sound casual, “what’s with all the intense stirring? You look like you’re conducting some kind of ritual.”

Regulus shot him a withering look, but there was no real bite to it. “Stirring is one of the most important parts,” he explained, his tone matter-of-fact. “It can make or break the entire potion. Too fast, and it destabilizes. Too slow, and the ingredients don’t bind properly. And don’t even get me started on the wrong number of stirs in the wrong direction.”

James blinked, only half processing the explanation because Regulus’s voice, low, calm, and just a little clipped, was entirely too distracting. He shook his head, forcing his thoughts to stay on track. “Sounds like a lot of pressure. No wonder you’re so uptight.”

Regulus huffed a laugh, but his focus remained on the potion. “Yet I seem to be managing it just fine. Maybe you could learn a thing or two about precision, Potter.”

James leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into something playful. “I’m plenty precise when I need to be. Just ask anyone on the pitch.”

Regulus’s lips twitched, and he gave James a sidelong glance. “Pity precision doesn’t seem to extend to your ability to shut up when necessary.”

James grinned, undeterred. “Admit it, Reg. You’d be bored without me here.”

Regulus paused, his stirring slowing for just a fraction of a second. He didn’t answer, but the faintest smirk curled at his lips as he returned his attention to the potion. James’s chest swelled with victory, but his triumph was short-lived.

“All right, it’s done,” Regulus said, lowering the heat. “Now we leave it overnight. It’ll be ready by morning.”

“That’s it?” James asked, his voice tinged with something similar to disappointment like he didn’t quite want to stop yet. 

“That’s it,” Regulus confirmed, stepping back from the cauldron. He brushed past James, his shoulder barely grazing his arm, but it was enough to send James falter. 

James forced a grin, his voice coming out slightly strained. “You really know how to show a guy a good time.”

Regulus stopped, glancing over his shoulder with an arched brow. “You’ve no idea.”

And just like that, James was undone all over again. He couldn’t help but think he was hopelessly doomed.  

“I might have a few more tasks for you tomorrow, Jamie. Think you’ll be up for it?” Regulus said over his shoulder, his tone deceptively casual. 

James swallowed hard, his grin weak but present. “You’ll find I’m good at handling… pressure,” he managed to say, his voice a little strained.

Regulus smirked, and James swore he caught the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “We’ll see,” Regulus replied smoothly, and with that, he turned away, leaving James to battle the chaos in his own head.

Chapter Text

July 30th

James pushed open the door to Regulus’s room without knocking, his usual boundless energy at full tilt. “Rise and shine, Reg! Come on, no time to waste. We’re having fun today, whether you like it or not.”

Regulus groaned, burying his face deeper into the pillow, his voice low and groggy. “Sod off, Potter.”

James froze for half a second, caught off guard by the sound. His voice was rough, deeper than usual, with that morning rasp that made James’s brain short-circuit. Oh, no. Nope. Absolutely not.

For a fleeting moment, he wondered what that voice would sound like moaning his name, but he shoved the thought away so quickly it was almost painful. He was surprised he didn’t pop a fucking blood vessel. 

“Nope, not happening,” James declared, stepping further into the room and tugging at the edge of the blanket. “Come on, Reggie. Get up. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping—”

“James,” Regulus grumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I will hex you. Don’t think I won’t.”

James grinned, undeterred. “You’re adorable when you’re cranky, you know that? Now come on.”

Regulus made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a sigh of resignation, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. But James wasn’t having it. He leaned down, yanked at the covers with more force, and finally managed to peel them away.

Regulus groaned again but gave in, shoving the blanket off with a frustrated huff. “You’re horrible,” he muttered as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

James opened his mouth to retort, but the words died in his throat the second Regulus fully emerged from the covers. He was shirtless, his pale skin dappled with the soft morning light. James’s eyes trailed down instinctively, taking in the sharp lines of his collarbones, the subtle definition of his chest, and, oh, Merlin, those hip bones.

The blanket fell completely, revealing the narrow curve of Regulus’s waist and the jut of his hips. James couldn’t help but stare, his eyes lingering far too long, his throat going dry. His traitorous mind conjured an image he absolutely didn’t need, of pressing his lips to that pale skin, feeling the sharp bone under his tongue and he nearly groaned aloud.

Regulus noticed, of course. He tilted his head, his dark eyes sharp and knowing even in his half-asleep state. “Enjoying the view, Potter?” he asked, his tone dry as he ran a hand through his tousled hair.

James snapped out of it, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but at Regulus’s bare torso. “Hurry up, we’re burning daylight,” he said quickly, his voice higher than usual. He spun on his heel and practically fled the room, leaving Regulus smirking in his wake.

Regulus stood and stretched, his long, lean body moving with an elegance James would never admit to finding mesmerizing. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed a shirt from the chair by his desk and started to get dressed. As much as he hated being dragged into James’s antics, a small part of him, the part that secretly enjoyed their banter, found himself looking forward to whatever chaos James had planned.

Meanwhile, James paced in the hallway, trying to shake off the heat that had settled low in his stomach. “Merlin’s beard,” he muttered to himself, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Get over yourself.”

But even as he tried to push it down, his mind betrayed him, replaying the image of Regulus’s bare skin and the soft rasp of his morning voice.

It was going to be a long day.

James barely gave Regulus a moment to breathe after pulling on his shirt before he stormed back into the room, grabbed Regulus’s wrist, and began dragging him down the hallway.

“Potter,” Regulus grumbled, trying to twist free, but James’s grip was firm and unyielding. “What the hell? What’s the rush?”

James glanced over his shoulder, his grin as wide and bright as the morning sun. “I need fun, Reg. Desperately. And you, my grumpy little recluse, are coming with me. No arguments.”

Regulus groaned, stumbling slightly as James pulled him outside. “You’re a menace,” he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance, though a hint of amusement flickered in his eyes.

“That’s the spirit,” James said, laughing as they crossed the lawn toward the broom shed.

When they reached it, James swung the door open with a dramatic flourish and grabbed two brooms, shoving one into Regulus’s hands. “We’re playing a Seeker’s game. Just you and me.”

Regulus raised a brow, his fingers curling loosely around the broom handle. “I don’t recall agreeing to this. Especially not before breakfast.”

“You’re already holding the broom,” James pointed out with a smirk. “That’s agreement enough.”

With a resigned sigh, Regulus mounted the broom, shaking his head. “You’d make a dreadful solicitor, Potter.”

James only grinned, mounting his own broom and kicking off the ground with practiced ease. Regulus followed suit, his movements fluid and precise, though he deliberately avoided James’s overenthusiastic energy.

The game began with James releasing the Snitch and giving them both a moment to circle the air before it darted off into the sky.

“Try not to embarrass yourself, Reggie,” James teased as he sped forward, his broom cutting through the air like a blade.

“Funny,” Regulus shot back, trailing just behind him. “I was about to say the same to you.”

They raced through the sky, the Snitch darting unpredictably as both of them chased it, trading sharp insults and banter as they went. James couldn’t help but steal glances at Regulus when he thought he wouldn’t notice. The way he leaned forward on his broom, the sunlight catching in his dark hair, the line of his jaw taut with focus. It was all maddeningly distracting.

And then there were his hands. Those long, elegant fingers wrapped around the broom handle with a grip that just sent James up the wall. 

Regulus Black was all too tempting, and much too close to resist. 

“Eyes on the Snitch, Potter,” Regulus called over his shoulder, catching him staring.

James laughed, though his cheeks burned. “Eyes are exactly where they need to be.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but his smirk betrayed him.

The game grew more competitive as the Snitch zipped lower toward the ground. They dove after it, their brooms neck and neck as the Snitch hovered tantalizingly close. James surged forward, hand outstretched—

But Regulus veered slightly, bumping his broom just enough to jostle James’s concentration.

“Oi! Cheater!” James yelled, fumbling just long enough for Regulus to shoot past him and snatch the Snitch from the air.

Regulus turned mid-flight, holding up the golden ball with a victorious smirk. “What’s the matter, Potter? Not used to losing?”

“You bloody cheat!” James yelled, laughing as he chased after him.

“Didn’t break any rules,” Regulus called back, his tone smug as he sped ahead.

James grinned, leaning low over his broom as he closed the distance between them. “You’re awful!”

Regulus only laughed, but his victory was short-lived. James caught up, and in their playful chase, their brooms tangled, sending them both tumbling to the ground in a controlled crash.

They landed in a heap, James sprawled on his back in the grass, and Regulus on top of him, bracing himself with his hands on James’s chest. For a moment, neither of them moved, both winded.

“Still think I cheated?” Regulus asked, his voice quieter now, a teasing lilt to it as his eyes met James’s.

James swallowed hard, his grin faltering as he became suddenly and painfully aware of how close they were. Regulus’s hair was slightly mussed from the fall, his cheeks faintly flushed, and his hands, Merlin, his hands were warm through James’s shirt.

James wasn’t prepared for the sight of Regulus above him, nor for the weight of his body pressing down against him. The way he looked down at James, his lips slightly parted, the ghost of a victorious smirk playing on them, sent James’s thoughts spiraling.

Merlin, he looks too good like this, James thought, unable to tear his gaze away.

James’s mind betrayed him, flooding with unbidden images of Regulus in this very position, but with far fewer clothes, his face carrying a different kind of flush. James could practically hear the noises Regulus would make for him. He barely had time to shove those thoughts aside before Regulus’s hands on his chest moved, his fingers tightening ever so slightly in the fabric of his shirt.

Regulus smiled down at him, and it was devastating. James forgot how to breathe, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven bursts. His brain screamed at him to move, to do anything other than lie there and gawk like a lovesick fool, but then the worst thing imaginable happened.

Regulus shifted.

James felt the weight of him settle fully against his lap, and his stomach dropped. He was certain he was going to combust on the spot. His hands twitched at his sides, desperate for something to hold onto, but he was paralyzed. Regulus adjusted, the subtle press of his hips sending shockwaves through James’s body and James was done.

Completely, utterly ruined. 

His heart thudded so loudly in his chest he was sure Regulus could hear it from hear he sat, on James’s fucking lap. Looking all too delicious as he fucking moved again. Grinding his perfect little arse into James’s crotch and effectively rendering him brain dead. 

In a moment of panic, James’s hands flew to Regulus’s hips, gripping them tightly to still his movements. 

“Reggie,” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper, strained and so fucking desperate it almost made him wince. His fingers dug into those sharp hips, the ones he’d been silently obsessing over, and it took everything in him not to let his hands wander further.

Regulus’s body warmed all over, his skin prickling with heat as his own thoughts careened into dangerous territory. James’s hands were firm on him, holding him still, and his voice, that voice, sounded like something sinful.

His hands, which had been braced against James’s chest, twitched. Then, almost without thinking, his fingers dragged slowly down the expanse of James’s body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Fuck,” James murmured, and the sound was so gone, so wrecked, it sent a shiver down Regulus’s spine. Every nerve in his body was on fire, every inch of him strung tight. His fingers tightened instinctively where they held Regulus, a shuddering breath escaping him as his self-control began to crumble.

Regulus moved once more, this time intentionally, James groaned low, his head pressing back against the ground as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Merlin, Regulus,” he whispered, his voice raw. His body reacted instantly, traitorously, and he was positive Regulus could feel it. After all, James certainly fucking could. 

James bit his lip, desperate to keep control. The tension between them was unbearable, crackling like a live wire.

When James opened his eyes again, Regulus was looking at him, no, studying him, with an expression James couldn’t quite place. Something smug, something sharp, but beneath that, something unsteady, as if he were barely holding himself together. James was a goner. 

“You’re not very subtle, are you, Potter?” Regulus murmured, his voice low and smooth, a contrast to James’s ragged breaths. His fingers danced along James’s chest, skimming the edge of his collarbone, and James arched slightly beneath him, like he couldn’t stop himself.

“Reg,” James managed, his voice hoarse, his grip on Regulus’s hips tightening as if to anchor himself. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Regulus asked, his tone deceptively innocent. But his eyes gleamed, and he gently rolled his hips, deliberately, slowly, as though testing the limits of James’s resolve.

James’s head fell back with a strangled grunt, his fingers flexing almost harshly. Wanting nothing more than to use that grip to guide Regulus’ hips down harder against his aching cock. “You’re—Merlin, you’re going to kill me.”

Regulus tilted his head, his expression softening just enough to betray how affected he was, despite his outward composure. He was warm all over, his body thrumming with heat, and he couldn’t seem to stop the way his fingers trailed along James’s chest, his ribs, the hard lines of his abdomen. Feeling how the muscle clenched under his touch. 

“Am I?” Regulus asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

In one desperate, panicked motion, James flipped them, his hands still gripping Regulus’s hips as he pinned him to the grass. The world felt too loud and too quiet all at once, their heavy breaths the only sound as James hovered over him, his chest rising and falling with the effort to keep himself in check.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stared at each other, their chests heaving, the tension between them thick enough to choke on. James’s eyes darted to Regulus’s lips, pink and swollen, and he had to fight the overwhelming urge to lean down and taste them. He wanted it. Needed it. It wasn’t even a question anymore. It was a fact, an inevitability.

Regulus’s wide gray eyes searched James’s face, his own breaths coming just as quick. He didn’t push James away. He didn’t even speak. And for one suspended moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them, the pull between them impossible to resist.

James leaned down, his resolve slipping, the space between them vanishing inch by inch. But then, a sound broke the spell, a distant voice calling out from the house.

“Sirius,” Regulus whispered, his voice barely audible.

James shot back as if burned, scrambling off Regulus and onto his feet. Regulus followed, slower and less frantic, brushing the grass off his clothes as he avoided James’s gaze.

When Sirius appeared in the doorway of the house a moment later, he didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, waving lazily as he leaned against the frame. “You two idiots done wrecking the yard?” he called, clearly unimpressed.

James forced a laugh, though his voice sounded strained even to his own ears. “Yeah, yeah. We’re just—uh—done.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and disappeared back inside, leaving James and Regulus standing in the field, a chasm of tension between them.

James dragged a hand through his hair, his mind still racing. He glanced at Regulus, who was pointedly avoiding his eyes, his expression unreadable.

“Reggie—” James started, but Regulus cut him off.

“Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice tight. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and headed for the house, leaving James standing there, confused, breathless, and thoroughly wrecked.

                  *   ~   *   ~   *

James sat at the kitchen table, his legs bouncing restlessly under the worn wood. A cup of tea sat untouched before him, steam curling lazily upward. His mind raced, replaying every second of what had just happened outside. The weight of Regulus on his lap, the sharp angles of his hips under James’s hands, the way Regulus looked at him.

James was ready to risk it all, right then. Just for a fucking taste. 

James scrubbed a hand over his face, groaning quietly. You’re losing it, Potter. Completely losing it.

The door slammed, and James flinched, looking up to see Sirius sauntering back in. His hair was wild, his leather jacket slung lazily over one shoulder. He threw it onto the back of a chair and grabbed an apple from the counter.

“Morning, Prongs,” Sirius said around a bite. His sharp gray eyes narrowed. “Why do you look like you’ve just seen a Dementor?”

“I don’t,” James said too quickly, his voice higher than normal. He cleared his throat and forced a grin. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Sirius raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he studied James with that unnervingly perceptive gaze. “Tired, huh? You didn’t look tired a few minutes ago when you dragged my baby brother outside to Merlin knows where.”

James winced internally at the reminder that Regulus was Sirius' baby brother. Oh, come on. Be casual.

“We were just flying,” James said, waving a hand dismissively. “Nothing serious. Played a seekers game.”

Sirius’s eyes narrowed further. “Flying, huh?” He bit into his apple again, chewing slowly. “Reg looked a bit pink in the face when he came back inside. Did you run him into the ground, or…?”

James snorted, trying to sound amused. “Yeah, sure. Wore him out. You know me—relentless.”

“Uh-huh,” Sirius said, his tone dry. He tilted his head, his gaze sharpening. “You’re hiding something.”

“No, I’m not,” James said quickly. Too quickly. He stood abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair in the process. “Just… loads on my mind, that’s all. Back-to-school stuff, you know?”

“Prongs,” Sirius said, his voice cutting through James’s rambling. “Sit down.”

James hesitated, his grin faltering. “I’m fine, Padfoot.”

“Sit.” Sirius’s tone brooked no argument.

Reluctantly, James sat, his knee bouncing nervously under the table. Sirius set his apple down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he pinned James with a knowing look.

“Spill,” Sirius said simply.

“There’s nothing to spill,” James said, laughing nervously.

“Bullshit,” Sirius shot back. “I’ve known you since we were eleven, mate. You’re hiding something. And whatever it is, it’s written all over your stupid face.”

James opened his mouth, then closed it, floundering. His mind scrambled for an out, anything to shift the conversation away from the truth.

“It’s not a big deal,” James tried. “Just—just stressed about N.E.W.T.s. Loads to prepare for, school is around the corner.”

Sirius snorted. “You? Stressed about exams? Currently non-existent exams. Come off it, Prongs. That’s not it.”

James’s hands fidgeted in his lap, his palms clammy. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Pads.”

“I want you to tell me what’s got you so twitchy,” Sirius said, his voice softening slightly. “You’ve been acting strange ever since Reg started staying here. Is it something with him?”

James’s stomach lurched. He forced out a laugh, shaking his head. “No, no. Nothing like that. Reg’s fine. We’ve actually been getting along.”

“Getting along,” Sirius repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Right. And you’re sure that’s all it is?”

James could feel the blood rushing to his face, heat crawling up his neck. Don’t blush. Don’t you dare blush.

“Of course!” James said, a bit too loudly. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Sirius studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face, sharp and wolfish. 

James didn’t like it one bit. 

“Oh, this is good,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair.

“What’s good?” James asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“You,” Sirius said, pointing at him with the apple. “You’ve got a thing for my brother, don’t you?”

James choked on air. “What? No! Absolutely not! That’s insane!”

“Is it?” Sirius said, smirking. “You’re red as a tomato, Prongs. And you can’t sit still. Merlin, this is hilarious.”

“It’s not—” James began, but Sirius cut him off.

“Relax,” Sirius said, laughing. “I’m just taking the piss. Unless…”

“There’s no unless,” James said firmly, standing again. “I’m going to bed.”

“It’s eleven in the morning,” Sirius called after him, still laughing.

James didn’t answer, fleeing the kitchen with his heart hammering in his chest. Upstairs, he shut the door to his room and leaned against it, dragging a hand down his face.

You’re not going to survive this summer, Potter.

Sirius still sat at the kitchen table, chewing thoughtfully on his apple as he watched James bolt from the room like his robes were on fire. It had been funny at first, teasing James always was, but now, as he replayed the interaction in his head, Sirius felt the laughter drain out of him.

The look on James’s face. The panic, the nerves, the redness spreading up his neck like wildfire. Sirius had been joking. Mostly, but now he wasn’t so sure. His stomach twisted.

Bloody fucking hell.

He leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the spot where James had been moments before. Could he really be right? Was James harboring some kind of thing for Regulus?

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. He wasn’t angry, exactly. It wasn’t like James was some random git he didn’t trust. But Regulus? His baby brother? That was a whole other level of complicated.

Without much thought, Sirius stood, tossed the apple core into the bin, and made his way upstairs. He hesitated outside Regulus’s door, listening for any signs of movement. It was quiet, save for the faint sound of shuffling. He knocked once and pushed the door open without waiting for an invitation.

Regulus was sitting on the edge of his bed, flipping through a book. He looked up sharply as Sirius entered, his expression briefly flashing with surprise before it settled into something carefully neutral.

“What do you want?” Regulus asked, his tone flat, though Sirius didn’t miss the slight edge of irritation.

Sirius shut the door behind him and leaned against it, crossing his arms. “Do you wanna tell me what the hell is going on?”

Regulus blinked, his brows knitting together. “What are you on about now?”

“You and James,” Sirius said bluntly. “Something’s off, and I want to know what.”

Regulus tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” Sirius shot back, stepping closer. “Because James just bolted out of the kitchen like he’d been caught with his hand in the Honeydukes jar, and you’re sitting here looking much too put together. So, no, I don’t think I’m imagining things.”

Regulus’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Don’t dodge the question, Reggie,” Sirius said, narrowing his eyes. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing,” Regulus said smoothly, setting his book aside. “We were outside earlier. Flying. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Sirius repeated, his voice dripping with skepticism. “Because James looked like he’d just been hit with a Confundus charm.”

Regulus shrugged, leaning back on his hands. “Maybe he’s just bad at losing.”

Sirius snorted. “James? He’s competitive, but he doesn’t sulk like that. Something happened, didn’t it?”

Regulus’s gray eyes flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Sirius to catch. His brother was good at hiding his emotions, better than most, but Sirius knew him too well.

“Reggie,” Sirius said, his voice softening. “Just tell me the truth.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Regulus said, though his tone was sharper now, defensive.

Sirius stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, dragging a hand through his hair again.

“Look,” he said, his voice quieter. “If something is going on. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m not gonna lose my mind about it. I just—” He paused, frowning. “I don’t want things getting messy, alright?”

Regulus’s gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, Sirius thought he might actually open up. But when Regulus looked up again, his mask was firmly in place.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Regulus said, wiping his palms on his pants. He glanced up at Sirius now, pinning him with an intense gaze. “You’re not the only one who gets to ask questions, you know.”

Sirius huffed a laugh. “Oh, yeah? And what exactly do you want to know, Reggie?”

“How did it go with Remus?” Regulus asked, his voice casual, but his eyes glinting with something sharper. “Still tripping over your feet to get his attention?”

Sirius’s smug expression faltered, his cheeks coloring despite himself. “Oh, come off it, Reg.”

Regulus smirked, “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

“I’m not—” Sirius paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not,” Regulus said, shifting on the edge of his bed.

Sirius frowned, flopping into the chair by the desk. “You’re a right little git, you know that?”

Regulus shrugged, clearly unbothered. “I’m just observant.”

Sirius hesitated, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with the frayed edge of his sleeve. He glanced at Regulus and, after a moment’s silence, spoke softly. “I… I think I like him,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You think?”

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. I do like him. I have for a while.” He paused, his foot tapping against the floor as he stared at the ceiling. “It’s not like I planned it or anything. I didn’t even think he’d feel the same, but last night… he told me.”

Regulus’s expression softened with curiosity. “Remus admitted that he likes you?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, still not meeting his brother’s eyes. “It was late, and we were just sitting there, talking like usual. And then he just said it, like it was no big deal. Like he wasn’t throwing my whole bloody world upside down.”

Regulus tilted his head, studying Sirius’s profile. “And?”

Sirius finally looked at him, his expression guarded. “And what?”

“And how do you feel about it?”

Sirius hesitated, drumming his fingers against his knee. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it. About him. But now that it’s real… now that I know how he feels… it’s all I can think about.”

Regulus watched him carefully, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. “You’re overthinking it.”

Sirius scoffed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Of course I am. It’s what I do, isn’t it?” He glanced at Regulus, his voice taking on a rare note of vulnerability. “What if I mess it up? What if I’m not good enough for him? I’ve never been good at this… this relationship stuff.”

Regulus shrugged, his tone dry but not unkind. “Well, for starters, maybe don’t think of it as a relationship just yet. It’s just… feelings. You’ve had them for him, and now he’s got them for you. See where it goes. You don’t have to figure it all out in one night.”

Sirius blinked at him, a little surprised. “Since when did you become the expert on this?”

Regulus smirked, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting Sirius’s again. “I’m not. But you’re spiraling, and someone has to talk sense into you.”

For a moment, Sirius just stared at him, and then, unexpectedly, he chuckled. “Merlin, when did you get so wise?”

Regulus shrugged. “Must’ve happened while you were busy pining over Lupin.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes, but his lips twitched with reluctant amusement. “Watch it, Reggie.”

Regulus raised his hands innocently. “Just saying.”

Sirius’s expression softened as he leaned back again, his foot tapping more slowly against the floor now. “Thanks, Reg,” he said after a moment, his voice sincere.

Regulus glanced away, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in his chest. “Yeah, well… don’t make it a habit of needing advice from me.”

“Don’t worry,” Sirius replied, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll save all the emotional crises for James.”

That earned him an eye roll from Regulus, but the faint smile that lingered on his face didn’t go unnoticed.

Regulus didn’t respond right away, his gaze thoughtful. “Did you tell him how you feel?”

Sirius snorted. “What, and give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s got me wrapped around his finger? Not likely.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, it runs in the family,” Sirius shot back, though there was no bite to his words.

For a moment, the room was quiet, the tension between them softening into something more comfortable. Sirius leaned back in the chair, letting out a long breath.

“You ever feel like you want to say something, but you just… can’t?” Sirius asked, surprising even himself with the question.

Regulus stiffened slightly, his fingers brushing the edge of his blanket. “All the time.”

Sirius turned his head, studying his brother. Regulus’s face was unreadable, but Sirius could see the cracks in the mask if he looked hard enough.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Sirius said, his voice quieter now.

Regulus’s lips twitched into a faint, wry smile. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Sirius chuckled softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Fair enough.”

Regulus looked down at his hands, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the blanket. “It’s not always that simple,” he said after a moment.

“I know,” Sirius said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

They sat in silence for a while, neither of them feeling the need to fill it. Sirius leaned his head back against the chair, his thoughts drifting back to James and Regulus and to Remus.

Regulus, on the other hand, found himself glancing at Sirius out of the corner of his eye. He wanted to say more, to ask more, but the words stuck in his throat.

Eventually, Sirius pushed himself to his feet. “If you ever do want to talk, you know where to find me,” he said, ruffling Regulus’s hair on his way out.

Regulus swatted at his hand, scowling. “Piss off, Sirius.”

But as the door clicked shut, Regulus allowed himself a small, genuine smile.

                   *   ~    *    ~   *

James felt like he was on fire. He paced back and forth across his room, his hands raking through his already disheveled hair. Every step he took felt too fast, too much, like he might trip over his own feet. His chest was tight, his breathing shallow, and his skin prickled with the remnants of… well, everything.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the images. Regulus’s flushed face above him. The weight of him, solid and warm. Those eyes boring into him like they knew all his secrets.

He groaned, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. Stop it. Stop thinking about it.

But his body wouldn’t listen. His mind replayed it all on an endless loop, each moment burned into his memory. The way Regulus’s hands had dragged over his chest, the way his voice sounded. That wicked smile, the way his weight had shifted, pressing just against his—

Godric, stop.

James let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head like that might help clear it. It didn’t.

His pacing came to an abrupt halt when the door opened. Sirius stepped inside, his brow furrowing the moment he caught sight of James.

“Merlin’s tits, Prongs, what’s going on with you?” Sirius asked, shutting the door behind him.

James gave a halfhearted laugh. “Nothing. Just, you know—”

“Don’t even try it,” Sirius interrupted, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. “I know you, James. You’re pacing like a bloody caged animal. Something’s eating at you. Come on, talk to me. We’ve always told each other everything.”

James groaned, turning away. “It’s nothing. Seriously.”

“James,” Sirius said, his tone soft but insistent.

That was all it took for James’s shoulders to sag. He stopped pacing and sank down onto Sirius’s bed, his hands burying themselves in his hair again.

“I don’t know, Sirius,” James admitted, his voice strained. “I just don’t know. I’m all over the place.”

Sirius pushed off the door and came to sit beside him. “Is it me?” he asked gently. “Are you anxious because of me? About how I’ll feel about… whatever this is?”

James glanced at him, startled. “What? No! Well… maybe? I don’t know.” He groaned again, his head falling back against the wall. “It’s everything. I don’t even know what to feel, let alone what anyone else will think.”

Sirius studied him for a moment before placing a hand on James’s shoulder. “Listen to me, James. If you’re worried about me, don’t be. Figure it out for yourself first. How you feel, what you want—don’t let anyone else’s opinions get in the way of that. You’re entitled to your feelings.”

James looked at him, his anxiety softening just a fraction under Sirius’s steady gaze. “Would you hate me?” he asked quietly.

Sirius shook his head firmly. “Never. Just don’t keep things from me, yeah? Whatever’s going on, I want to know. Tell me.”

James hesitated, then let out a long breath. “It’s Reggie,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for James to continue.

“There’s just… something there,” James admitted, his hands gesturing helplessly. “I don’t know what it is, but I can’t stop thinking about him. About the way he looks at me, the way he—” He stopped himself, heat rising to his cheeks. “I’m just… a mess.”

Sirius nodded slowly, absorbing the words. “It’s okay to be a mess, you know. Merlin knows I’ve been there.”

James shot him a skeptical look. “Oh, yeah? When?”

Sirius hesitated, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

James’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a second. How was it at Moony’s?”

Sirius’s blush deepened, and he muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” James asked, leaning closer.

Sirius groaned. “Fine. He kissed me, all right?”

James’s jaw dropped. “What?!”

“Keep your voice down, for Merlin’s sake!” Sirius hissed, glaring at him.

James blinked, then broke into a grin. “Pads! That’s brilliant! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because it’s none of your business,” Sirius shot back, though his lips twitched in a faint smile.

James laughed, the tension in his chest easing for the first time all day. “So, what now? Are you two… you know?”

Sirius shook his head, his expression softening. “I don’t know. We didn’t really talk about it. I think we’re just… figuring it out.”

James nodded, his grin fading into something more thoughtful. “Yeah. Figuring it out.” He paused, “but how was it? Details, please.” 

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks pinking. “It was… good,” he said slowly, trying to downplay it. His eyes flitted away, looking anywhere but at James. “Really good, actually.”

James’s grin spread wider, and his voice took on a teasing note. “Oh, come on, Padfoot. You’re blushing. How was it really?”

Sirius scowled at him. “It’s not like I’ve never kissed anyone before, you know.” But he was still grinning despite himself, the warmth of the moment starting to break through his usual bravado.

James leaned in, eager for more details. “You’re so obvious. Seriously, I’ve known for years, Pads. Years. You two are a bloody joke.”

Sirius’s eyes widened, his expression turning to something a little more guarded. “What do you mean ‘you’ve known for years’?” He narrowed his eyes. 

James leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “I mean, honestly, you two couldn’t be more obvious. The stares, the way you always sit next to each other and flirt—did you think no one noticed?” He chuckled at Sirius’s stunned face. “I’ve been waiting for this. Waiting for you two to actually get your heads out of your arses and do something about it.”

Sirius opened his mouth, about to protest, but then paused, his lips quirking into a reluctant smile. “Well, sorry for taking my time, then,” he said sarcastically, but there was a softness behind his words.

James raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m not complaining,” he said, nudging Sirius. “Honestly, though, I’m glad you finally worked it out.”

Sirius turned away, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “Thanks, I guess,” he muttered. “I just didn’t think it’d… be like that.”

James studied him, still grinning. “Like what?”

Sirius rubbed his neck, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know. It’s not the same as the other… you know… flings I’ve had. With Remus, it feels different. Feels… real.”

James raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Wait, who initiated it? Was it you, or was it him?”

Sirius blushed, something that only made James laugh louder. “Oh, I see how it is,” James teased, leaning forward, unable to hide his amusement. “It was Remus, wasn’t it? Come on, tell me everything.”

Sirius looked up at the ceiling, his cheeks flushing even deeper. “It was… it was real. A proper kiss.”

James’s eyes widened in mock shock. “A real kiss?” He grinned like he’d just won some sort of prize. “Come on, did you go full-on snogging?”

Sirius huffed, looking away. “You’re insufferable, you know that? You want details? Fine. It was a proper, full on snog, alright? And Remus was the one who kissed me, okay? He didn’t pull back or anything. It wasn’t just a quick peck. It felt—” He stopped himself, realizing he was getting more worked up than he meant to. “It felt right, James. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t like… anything I’ve done before.”

James sat there, completely delighted by how open Sirius was being about it. “I knew it would be Moony,” he said, nodding smugly. “I always knew he’d be the one to take charge. I bet he’ll be the top, huh?” 

Sirius’s eyes widened, and his face immediately went red again. “James, I swear to Merlin—don’t even start.”

James raised his hands in mock surrender, but the grin on his face never wavered. “What? Come on, Pads. I’m just asking.“

“Fuck off,” Sirius muttered, but the flush on his cheeks told James everything. He couldn’t help but laugh even harder, finding the whole situation hilarious. “You don’t need to know everything.”

James leaned back, eyes sparkling. “Oh, I know more than enough,” he teased, still chuckling. “I always knew Remus could handle you. He’s just got that quiet authority about him. The kind of guy who knows exactly what he’s doing.”

Sirius, clearly flustered, smacked James on the arm. “You’re unbelievable, James. I’m gonna strangle you one of these days.”

James laughed even harder. “Careful, Pads. I might like it.” 

Sirius just rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth in his gaze that James couldn’t miss. “Just… don’t make me repeat myself, alright?” He exhaled, then looked over at James. “But seriously… it’s good, you know? Remus, I mean. He’s… different. In a good way.”

James nodded, the teasing grin fading into something more sincere. “I’m happy for you, mate. You’ve wanted this for a while.”

Sirius looked away, his voice a little quieter now. “Yeah, I’ve been terrified, honestly. But now it feels… easier. Like I can breathe around him.”

James’s expression softened. “I get that, Pads. I really do.” He paused, then added, “And you know, I think Remus was always the best fit for you. I think you’ve been holding out for him for a while, whether you realized it or not.”

Sirius shot him a half-smile. “I think you might be right about that. I’ve been a bloody idiot for too long.”

James chuckled again, nudging him. “Yeah, well. You’re my idiot, so I suppose I’ll forgive you.”

Sirius laughed, and the tension in the room seemed to ease even further. “So, enough about me and my amazing love life,” Sirius said after a pause. “What about you and Reggie? What happened out there?”

James exhaled, rubbing his hands on his jeans nervously. He leaned back on his hands, eyes darting everywhere but at Sirius. “Look, I’m not sure what you saw, but it’s not like that.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Right.” He studied James’s face, the smirk on his lips faltering just a little. “I saw the way you looked at him. And trust me, I know when something’s off with you.”

James swallowed, feeling the heat creeping up his neck. “It’s nothing. Seriously, we were just… playing around.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Sirius.

Sirius scoffed. “Playing around, my arse. I’m not blind, James.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “So, what is it, then?“

James sighed, his voice quiet. “I don’t know, okay? It’s just—” He shook his head, unable to put it into words. “It’s confusing. It’s like I can’t stop thinking about him, but then I don’t know why I’m thinking about him, and it’s just—” He waved his hand in frustration, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I just can’t handle it.”

Sirius’s expression softened, and for a moment, he looked almost like a big brother. “Hey, I get it. It’s messy. But you don’t have to have it all figured out right now. You’re allowed to not know.”

James let out a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Thanks, Pads. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Sirius smiled, his usual mischievous grin returning. “What, you mean you’d have to figure it out on your own? Terrifying thought, isn’t it?”

James chuckled, but his mind was still on Regulus. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Sirius’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Look, James, just don’t try to force anything. If you and Reggie need time, then take it. Don’t rush it. But talk to him. You’ve never had a problem being honest with me, so just do the same with him.”

James nodded slowly. “Yeah. You’re right. I just… don’t know if he feels the same way.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You’re really gonna tell me you haven’t noticed the way he looks at you? Please. He might be a little… well, Reggie, but he’s not blind either.”

James smiled weakly, grateful for the way Sirius was putting things into perspective. “Yeah, I guess he’s not.”

There was another pause before Sirius spoke again, quieter now. “I’m here for you, James. Just… don’t shut me out.”

James gave him a look, his voice thick with emotion. “I know. Thanks, mate.”

Sirius leaned back, the soft creak breaking the silence for a moment. He was quiet, something unreadable in his expression as he glanced at James. “Can I ask you something, though? And don’t get all weird about it.”

James frowned, sitting up slightly. “Sure?”

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, as if trying to find the right words. “Have you ever fancied a bloke before? I mean, like, properly fancied one?”

James blinked, caught off guard. “What? No,” he said, his voice automatically defensive, but then he hesitated. His brows furrowed as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t think so. I’ve never really thought about it, honestly. It’s not like I’ve written it off or anything, but… I’ve just never explored it. Never really crossed my mind until…”

He trailed off, and Sirius smirked faintly. “Until my baby brother, huh?”

James shot him a look, his ears burning. “Don’t start.”

Sirius chuckled but softened quickly, his gaze steady on James. “Look, it’s not a bad thing. You don’t have to have a whole epiphany about it right now. Just… feel what you’re feeling. No rules, no expectations. That’s how I figured it out, anyway.”

James tilted his head. “What about you, then? Have you always—?”

“Fancied blokes?” Sirius shrugged, his lips twitching. “Yeah, as long as I can remember. I mean, girls too, sure, but blokes? Definitely. Not much of a revelation, really. It’s just… always been there.” He paused, a fond smile slipping onto his face. “Though it was Remus who caught my attention early on. Poor bastard didn’t stand a chance once I set my sights on him.”

James snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, I figured that one out ages ago. But you make it sound so easy.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t, trust me. Growing up in our house?” He gestured vaguely, and James nodded, understanding the unspoken weight of those words. “But it’s different for you, mate. You don’t have anyone breathing down your neck about who you’re supposed to be. You’re free to just… figure it out.”

James looked at him, something easing in his chest at the simple truth of it. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Sirius grinned, leaning back and kicking his feet up on the desk. “I usually am. Now, go sort yourself out before I have to listen to you agonize over this for the next month.”

James laughed, the tension easing a little more. “Thanks, Pads.”

Sirius gave him a wink, but there was a softness in his voice as he said, “Always.” Then Sirius’s gaze sharpened, and he leaned in closer to James. “But, he is my baby brother,” he said, his voice low and serious. “And I will kill you if you hurt him.”

James raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the intensity of Sirius’s protective tone. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender, trying to lighten the mood.

Sirius didn’t seem to take it entirely as a joke, though. His eyes were hard, serious. “Good. Because I’m not kidding, James.”

James nodded, the humor fading slightly, but his grin still lingered. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re terrifying.” 

                   *  ~  *  ~  *

Regulus lay sprawled across his bed, his heart racing as the memories replayed in his mind, vivid and unrelenting. He had been trying desperately to push the thoughts away, but the images of James wouldn’t leave him alone.

The way James sounded, the rough edge to his voice as he groaned his name, came back first. Regulus swallowed hard, heat building in his stomach as he remembered the way James had looked under him. The way his arousal pressed against him. The way his hands had gripped his hips, as though anchoring himself, his fingers digging into Regulus’s skin like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. 

And his face. Merlin. The way James tipped his head back, his messy hair falling against his forehead. The way his eyes fluttered shut, lashes brushing against flushed skin. The way he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, teeth catching the soft flesh.

Regulus groaned softly, throwing an arm over his face, but it didn’t help. The picture only grew sharper. More insistent.

And the way James had looked at him… Regulus’s stomach twisted, hot and tense. It wasn’t just the raw hunger in his eyes, though that alone was enough to set him on fire. It was the need. The way James stared at him like Regulus was the only thing he wanted.

Regulus crossed his arms tighter over his face, his breathing shallow. He could still feel the heat of James’s gaze, burning through his skin. And it wasn’t just the memory of how James had looked beneath him. No, it was also the way he’d looked above him.

Regulus’s lips parted at the thought. James, all disheveled and flushed, his body caging him in. His darkened eyes fixed on him, daring him to move. And then the worst part. No, the best part, James leaning closer. Closer.

James had been about to kiss him. Regulus was sure of it. He’d seen it in the way James’s gaze had dropped to his lips, the way his breath had hitched as the distance between them had disappeared. And then Sirius. Fucking Sirius, had shown up and ruined everything.

Regulus tilted his head back with a frustrated sigh, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened. He could almost feel the press of James’s lips against his. Would they have been soft and tentative, like he was afraid to push too far? Or would James have kissed him hard, desperate, leaving no room for Regulus to think?

And the noises… God, the noises James had made. Regulus clenched his fists at the memory, the word ‘fuck’ sounding wrecked and raw as it left James’s lips.

He sat up abruptly, unable to stop himself from giving in to the gnawing curiosity. His hands moved almost of their own accord, pulling down the waistband of his trousers just enough to uncover the pale skin of his hip.

His breath caught.

There, faint but unmistakable, were the marks. Pink against his pale skin, the faint outlines of James’s fingers where they’d gripped him so tightly.

Regulus nearly moaned at the sight, heat and desire slamming into him like a tidal wave. His head tipped back as he flopped onto the mattress, overwhelmed by the sensation flooding his chest.

James had marked him. The realization was too much, too intimate, too all-consuming.

And yet, he couldn’t stop staring it branded into his skin.

Regulus’s chest tightened, a soft, shuddering sound escaping his lips before he could stop it. The sensation was overwhelming, his chest rising and falling as if he couldn’t get enough air.

His fingers brushed against the bruised skin, feather-light, as if to confirm that it was real.

It was.

Regulus cursed under his breath, his hand trailing down to press against his aching erection in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure. The moment his palm made contact, his hips jerked forward involuntarily, and his mind betrayed him. 

James. James. James. His name echoed through every thought, every sensation.

He saw James’s crooked grin, his broad shoulders, his maddeningly messy hair. And those fucking noises, whispered so close, as if they’d been carved into his very bones.

Regulus groaned, biting down on his lip as he fought for control, but it was useless. He moved to pull his hand away, to bury his face in a pillow and drown out the noise in his head. Instead, his fingers betrayed him, wrapping around himself through the thin fabric of his trousers.

“Shit,” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.

He was so screwed.

His movements grew frantic, driven by the flood of images and sensations that refused to let go. James’s voice, low and rough. His breath, warm against Regulus’ neck. The solid weight of James’s chest pressed against his own.

Regulus whimpered, his restraint slipping as his hand finally dipped beneath the waistband of his trousers, his fingers wrapping around his throbbing length. His breathing hitched, a soft moan escaping him as his thoughts spiraled into desperation.

He pulled at himself with trembling hands, his mind replaying every stolen moment, every heated touch, every lingering gaze. Regulus knew he was lost, completely, utterly, and devastatingly undone.

Regulus swiped his thumb across the head of his cock, shuddering as his mind betrayed him again. It wasn’t his thumb anymore; it was James’s tongue, slow and deliberate. The thought made his hips jerk uncontrollably, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat. His hand moved faster, his breath hitching with each stroke, the edge approaching far too quickly. Embarrassingly quick.

James’s voice echoed in his head, those deep, guttural groans that had undone him before. Regulus’s stomach clenched as his imagination spiraled, picturing James above him now, coaxing him, commanding him. He could almost hear the low, sinful murmurs, urging him on, pulling him apart.

The sensations were overwhelming, the image of James so vivid it was almost real. His mind replayed the marks on his hips, those faint bruises seared into his skin. The memory wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

He wanted James to mark every inch of him, wanted the ache of bruises left by James’s hands and mouth. He wanted to feel James’s teeth scraping over his throat, his collarbone, his chest. The thought of it left him gasping, his head tipping back as his hand moved frantically, desperate for release.

Regulus tugged at his hair with his free hand, the sharp sting grounding him as his hips bucked into his fist. His mind supplied the final blow: James’s eyes, dark and full of hunger, staring him down at him.

“That’s it, good boy.”

His body shook as he tumbled over the edge, a broken whine escaping his lips. The world blurred as pleasure rolled through him in waves, leaving him breathless. He could feel it, hot and sticky, coating his hand and knuckles with every pulse. And with each one, all he could think of was James.

Regulus collapsed onto the bed, his body boneless and his chest heaving. His heart hammered against his ribs, the reality of what had just happened crashing into him like cold water.

Embarrassment burned through him, sharp and suffocating. He flicked his wand, muttering a cleaning charm to vanish the evidence of his indiscretion. But no charm could erase the truth.

He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts racing and his stomach sinking.

There was no coming back from this.

                   *   ~  *   ~  *

Regulus hadn’t left his room since the incident outside. The hours stretched long and heavy, with the memory replaying on an endless loop in his head. He hadn’t dared to show his face, too shaken to deal with James.

He was sprawled on his bed, his arms draped over his face as if it would block out the thoughts swirling in his head, when a firm knock broke through his haze.

“Reg?” James’s voice.

Regulus froze, his pulse quickening. Not him.

“Mum says dinner’s ready,” James continued, his tone light, almost teasing. “She sent me to fetch you.”

“Tell her I’m not hungry,” Regulus called back, trying to keep his voice steady.

There was a pause, then the door creaked open.

Of course, James didn’t wait for an invitation.

Regulus shot up, glaring as James stepped into the room, a cocky grin tugging at his lips. “Didn’t anyone teach you to wait for permission?”

“Not when I know you’re just going to sit in here and sulk,” James replied easily, leaning against the doorframe looking all too handsome to be real. His gaze swept over Regulus, taking in the disheveled state of his hair, the flush on his cheeks. “Besides, I’m not leaving without you.”

“I’m not sulking,” Regulus snapped, crossing his arms defensively.

James raised an eyebrow. “No? Then what do you call this?” He gestured vaguely around the room. “Hiding? Brooding? Staring dramatically out the window?”

Regulus’s jaw tightened. “I said I don’t feel like eating.”

James stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking. Regulus stiffened, trying not to let his mind wander to the last time they’d been this close.

“Don’t care,” James said, his voice softer now, but still with that irritating confidence. “You’ve got to eat something.”

Regulus didn’t answer, his gaze darting to the floor. He could feel the heat radiating from James, could smell the faint hint of pine and soap clinging to him. When James reached out, Regulus instinctively flinched, ready to pull away.

But then James’s hand wrapped around his, warm and steady, and Regulus froze.

He was going to let go. He should let go.

But James’s touch rooted him in place, his thumb brushing lightly against Regulus’s skin.

“Come on,” James said, his voice quiet, almost coaxing. His eyes were softer now, tender in a way that made Regulus’s chest ache.

Regulus wanted to look away, to snap at him, to do anything other than fall into those damn eyes. But he couldn’t. 

James tugged gently on his hand, and before Regulus could think better of it, he found himself standing, his body following James’s lead.

“I hate you,” Regulus muttered, though the words lacked any real bite.

James smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Sure you do.”

He didn’t let go of Regulus’s hand until they reached the dining room, where Euphemia gave them both a warm smile. Regulus missed the warmth of James' steady grip immediately, but he pushed the thought down so fast he was surprised he didn’t choke on it. 

Regulus sat stiffly, keeping his eyes trained on his plate, avoiding everyone’s gaze. He picked at his food, acutely aware of James sitting next to him, far too close for comfort.

James, of course, seemed perfectly at ease, chatting with Euphemia and Sirius like nothing was amiss. But every so often, Regulus felt his gaze flicker toward him, and it made his skin prickle with heat.

Dinner dragged on, and by the time it was over, Regulus wasn’t sure what he felt more: relief that it was finished, or frustration that James had gotten under his skin yet again.

One thing was certain, avoiding him wasn’t going to work. Not when James Potter was this relentless.

Regulus excused himself to check on his potion, muttering something vague about timing and temperature before slipping out of the dining room. James’s eyes followed him as he left, earning him a knowing look from Sirius.

“You aren’t fooling anyone,” Sirius said, smirking as he stacked the plates. “Go talk to him.”

James rolled his eyes, grabbing a dishcloth to help dry. “Sod off, Pads.”

Sirius smacked him on the shoulder with a damp towel, laughing. “Come on, go. You two clearly need to talk. And stop looking like a lovesick fool while you’re at it.”

James snorted, shaking his head, but his heart wasn’t in the denial. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah. Now, go,” Sirius said, shooing him away.

James sighed, running a hand through his hair as he set the dishcloth aside. “Fine.”

He unhurriedly walked toward the workshop, his nerves on edge. He stopped at the doorway giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts. And sanity. 

After a minute, he leaned against the frame as his eyes landed on Regulus. The dim light cast a golden glow over him as he worked, his focus entirely on the potion bubbling gently in the cauldron.

Regulus hadn’t noticed him yet, too engrossed in adjusting the flame and stirring with a practiced hand. James’s breath caught as he watched him. Regulus was beautiful in a way that felt entirely unfair sharp, poised, and utterly mesmerizing.

He was pretty. Handsome. Stunning. And James was completely and utterly entranced.

“Didn’t realize you were such a perfectionist,” James finally said, his voice breaking the quiet.

Regulus jumped slightly, his spoon clinking against the cauldron before he regained his composure. He shot James a glare, his lips pressed into a thin line. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you,” James said with a casual shrug, stepping into the room. “You disappeared so fast after dinner. Thought maybe you were brewing some illicit love potion or something.”

Regulus snorted, his glare softening just slightly. “Please. Love potions are for amateurs.”

James grinned, leaning on the edge of the table as he watched him. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “Because you don’t need one.”

Regulus’s hand faltered slightly, the spoon pausing mid-stir. He recovered quickly, turning back to the potion with a scowl. “What do you want, Potter?”

James shrugged again, his grin turning playful. “Maybe I just like watching you work.”

Regulus huffed, but his heart was racing. “You’re incredibly disruptive.”

James smirked. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.”

A beat of silence fell between them, broken only by the soft bubbling of the potion. James hesitated for a moment, his hand brushing the edge of the table.

“Look,” he started, his tone losing some of its teasing edge, “about earlier. If I… if I took anything too far, I’m sorry.”

Regulus finally looked at him, his gray eyes sharp and searching. For a moment, James wondered if he’d said the wrong thing.

Regulus frowned, his mind racing. He’s apologizing? James was apologizing when it had been him who had practically ground against him like he was in heat, who had leaned into the tension between them like his life depended on it.

“Why are you apologizing?” Regulus asked, his voice quieter now.

James blinked at him, taken aback. “I… I don’t know. I just—” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish. “I don’t want you to feel like I pushed you into something.”

Regulus stared at him for a long moment, his chest tight with something he didn’t want to name. “You didn’t,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

James’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but the tension between them didn’t ease. Instead, it seemed to thrum louder, heavier, in the small space between them.

“Do you always have to hover?” Regulus snapped, trying to shake off the heat climbing up his neck.

James smirked, leaning in just slightly. “Do you always have to act like you hate me?”

Regulus glared at him, but there was no real fire behind it. 

James’s smirk softened into something else entirely, something warmer, more serious. “You don’t hate me, though, do you?”

Regulus swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the edge of the worktable. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That’s not a no,” James teased, his voice low and coaxing.

Regulus turned back to his potion, trying to regain control of his thoughts. He focused on the steady swirl of the liquid, the rhythmic motion of the spoon, anything but the way James was looking at him.

“You know, Sirius told me to be careful with you,” James says suddenly.

Regulus tenses. “And?”

“And I told him I would.”

Regulus looks up, his expression guarded. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to know I mean it,” James says, his voice steady now. “I’m not playing around, Regulus.”

Regulus froze, the spoon stilling in his hand. He didn’t look up, didn’t trust himself to meet James’s gaze.

“Don’t,” he said quietly, his voice strained.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say things like that.”

James stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Why not?”

Regulus finally looked at him, his expression a mix of frustration and something more vulnerable. “Because I don’t know how to handle it.”

James didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at him with that same tender, unrelenting gaze. Regulus felt like he was unraveling under it, every carefully constructed wall crumbling bit by bit.

“I’ll go,” James said softly, stepping back. “But I meant what I said.”

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving Regulus alone in the dimly lit workshop, his heart pounding and his mind a mess of thoughts he couldn’t untangle.

Regulus stared down at the cauldron in front of him, the soft bubbling of his potion the only sound in the room. He had expected to feel relief once James was gone—relief that the suffocating proximity and maddening charm were no longer clawing at him. But relief never came.

Instead, the silence seemed to mock him, echoing James’s voice in his ears. “I’m not playing around.” The words replayed over and over, each time more weighted, more impossible to ignore.

Regulus gripped the edge of the workbench until his knuckles turned white, trying to ground himself. But the memory of James’s gaze. So unrelenting, so tender made his stomach twist in ways he didn’t want to name. He could still feel the ghost of James’s touch on his hand, the warmth of it searing into his skin like a brand.

With a sharp breath, Regulus stepped away from the cauldron. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t focus.

He wiped his hands on a cloth, movements stiff and robotic, and left the workshop. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that made his thoughts louder. Each step he took felt heavier, like the weight of his emotions was pulling him down.

Somehow, without realizing it, his feet carried him outside. The evening air was cool, biting against his skin, but it didn’t help. If anything, it only sharpened the edges of his turmoil. He wandered aimlessly, hands shoved deep into his pockets, until he found himself standing near the place where it had all nearly happened.

The spot where James had almost kissed him.

Regulus froze, staring at the patch of grass as if it held answers to questions he was too afraid to ask. He clenched his jaw, his breath coming uneven as the memory surged forward unbidden.

James’s face, inches from his. The warmth of his body. The way his breath had hitched as he leaned closer.

Regulus pressed his palms against his eyes, willing the images to fade. It didn’t work. If anything, the memory burned brighter. He dropped his hands with a frustrated growl, pacing a few steps before stopping abruptly.

“What is wrong with me?” he muttered under his breath, his voice sharp in the stillness.

But he knew. He knew exactly what was wrong.

He could still feel James, his touch, his gaze, his voice. Could still hear the way James had said his name, so soft and certain, like it was something sacred.

Regulus raked a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as if the pain would help him think. It didn’t. Nothing did. The warmth pooling in his chest at the thought of James wouldn’t go away.

And that terrified him.

He had spent years building walls, carefully crafting an armor that no one could penetrate. But James… James Potter had waltzed in with his stupid smile and reckless charm, and now the cracks were spreading.

Regulus took a shuddering breath and turned back toward the house, his steps heavy with the weight of his thoughts.

He had to be stronger than this. He had to.

Instead of heading back inside, Regulus sank to the ground, sprawling out on the cool grass. The night sky stretched endlessly above him, a blanket of stars shimmering against the inky blackness. For as long as he could remember, the stars had been his solace. A fixed, unchanging map in a world that was anything but steady.

He traced the familiar paths of the constellations with his eyes, naming them silently in his head—Orion, Canis Major, Hydra. The shapes grounded him, their permanence offering a fleeting sense of calm. But tonight, it wasn’t enough.

His thoughts inevitably drifted back to James.

What did he even want from James?

The answer came too quickly, too clearly for his comfort.

Everything.

With James, it wouldn’t be fleeting. It wouldn’t be a careless dalliance or a passing infatuation. James would mean it. He’d be steady, persistent, unshakably loyal. Regulus could already see it in the way James looked at him, in the way he said his name like it was the only thing that mattered.

Regulus exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair as the weight of it all pressed down on him. Was he ready for something like that? Could he even handle it?

His life had always been planned out for him, every step dictated by his parents, every choice made in service of their vision of perfection. He was meant to be their obedient little soldier, a vessel for their ambitions, a servant to the Dark Lord. There had been no room for his own desires, no space for him to decide what he wanted out of life.

And now, here he was… Free, for the first time in his life, at the Potters’ home. No demands, no expectations, no crushing weight of obligation. Just freedom.

It was intoxicating and overwhelming all at once.

For two weeks, he’d been basking in that newfound independence, feeling lighter than he ever thought possible. But James… James threatened to turn everything upside down.

Regulus traced the curve of a constellation with his finger, his chest tightening. He thought of the life he’d never been allowed to live, the kisses that meant nothing, the fleeting, hollow connections he’d shared with others. Nothing had ever felt real. Nothing had ever felt like James.

His gaze flickered back to the stars, their light distant and untouchable. For years, they had been his guide, the only constant in a chaotic world. But now, for the first time, they didn’t hold the answers.

In just weeks, he’d be back at Hogwarts. A new chapter, a new uncertainty. Everything in his life felt like it was shifting, and James was at the center of it all.

Regulus closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to stay here, in this liminal space, where nothing had to be decided. But deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last.

The night was colder than Regulus expected when he finally rose from the grass, his body stiff from lying there for so long. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it could’ve been hours. He didn’t want to check. The stars had been soothing, but his mind hadn’t stopped racing, cycling endlessly through thoughts of James, his life at the Potters’, and the looming uncertainty of what came next.

When he stepped inside, the warmth of the house greeted him, along with the soft clink of ceramic against wood. Regulus froze mid-step, his heart stuttering at the sight before him.

James was sitting at the kitchen table, cradling a cup of tea in his hands. The soft glow of the overhead lamp cast warm shadows over his features, making him look more relaxed than Regulus had seen him all day. James glanced up, clearly surprised, but his expression quickly shifted to one of quiet amusement.

“Couldn’t sleep?” James asked, his voice low, careful not to shatter the stillness.

Regulus shook his head, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “No.”

James gestured toward the kettle. “Sit. I’ll pour you some.”

Regulus hesitated, but his legs carried him forward. When he slid into the chair beside James, he couldn’t help but notice the proximity, the way James’s knee brushed against his under the table. It was subtle, but it was there.

James passed him a mug, their fingers brushing in the exchange. The touch lingered just a moment too long, and Regulus felt his breath hitch. He wrapped both hands around the mug as though it could anchor him, the warmth seeping into his skin.

“What were the stars like tonight?” James asked, his tone casual but tinged with genuine curiosity.

Regulus looked down at the tea, swirling it absently. “The same as always,” he murmured, then paused. “Comforting.”

James hummed softly, shifting closer. Their thighs pressed together, and this time, Regulus didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into the touch, his body acting on instinct before his mind could object.

“How’s the potion coming along?” James asked after a beat.

“It’s fine,” Regulus replied, glancing up briefly. “Still temperamental, but it’s stable. I’ll finish it tomorrow.”

“Good,” James said, his lips curving into a smile. “Wouldn’t want to accuse you of cheating again by taking the lazy route.”

Regulus frowned, though his lips twitched. “I didn’t cheat.”

“You absolutely did,” James countered, leaning forward slightly. His gaze was steady, focused entirely on Regulus. “I want a rematch. Fair and square this time.”

“You lost because you were distracted,” Regulus shot back, his voice soft but sharp.

James chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Distracted by you,” he admitted, and Regulus’s heart skipped.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. James’s eyes dipped to Regulus’s lips, and Regulus, noticing the shift, bit down on his bottom one out of nervous habit. The motion only made them look redder, more swollen, and James felt the urge to lean in, to close the space that stretched and pulled between them like a taut string.

Regulus broke the silence first, his voice quieter than before. “How’s Sirius?”

James blinked, then straightened slightly, his expression softening. “He’s… Sirius,” he said with a shrug. “Supportive. Protective. He just wants me, wants us, to figure out what makes us happy.”

The word lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.

The conversation lulled, and they sat in silence, sipping their tea. Regulus wasn’t sure when he’d last felt so hyperaware of someone. Every breath, every small movement James made seemed amplified, tugging at his already-frayed nerves.

Eventually, Regulus pushed his chair back and stood, breaking the spell. James rose with him, his movements unhurried. As Regulus turned to leave, James reached out, his hand brushing lightly against the small of Regulus’s back. The touch was fleeting but deliberate, and it sent a shiver down Regulus’s spine.

He didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. He kept walking, his heart pounding in his chest as he left the kitchen.

Behind him, James stayed where he was, watching the doorway long after Regulus had disappeared. His tea sat forgotten on the table as he leaned against the edge of the table, lost in thought.

Chapter Text

August 3rd

Few days later, much to his dismay, Regulus found himself roped into helping James in the garden. A chore Euphemia had insisted they tackle together while she made Sirius run errands with her. 

Regulus wasn’t particularly fond of gardening, but the task provided enough distraction to keep his thoughts from spiraling too much.

Or so he thought.

James, on the other hand, seemed determined to test his patience. He leaned against the garden spade he was supposed to be using, watching as Regulus turned back to the flowerbed. His lips twitched upward, unable to suppress the smirk that formed as he admired the sharp lines of Regulus’s face, the curve of his neck, the faint pink still dusting his cheeks.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” James said lazily, tapping the spade against the ground.

Regulus didn’t bother looking at him. “I’m perfectly capable of pulling a few weeds. Maybe you should try doing something useful for a change.”

James chuckled, setting the spade aside as he stepped closer. Too close. “I am being useful,” he said, his voice dropping as he leaned in again, this time closer to Regulus’s shoulder. “I’m providing encouragement. Moral support.”

“Moral support?” Regulus scoffed, his fingers tightening around the weeds he was pulling. He refused to turn his head, knowing full well how close James was. “You’re being a nuisance.”

“Am I?” James asked, and before Regulus could move, James reached out and brushed a stray leaf from his shoulder. His fingers lingered for a second too long, the brief touch enough to send a jolt down Regulus’s spine.

Regulus stilled, his jaw tightening. “Do you always have to hover?”

“Yes,” James said simply, stepping around to crouch in front of him, his brown eyes warm and annoyingly bright. “Especially when you look like you’re about to snap. It’s kind of entertaining.”

Regulus shot him a glare, but James only smiled wider.

“You’re pretty when you’re angry, you know,” James added, his voice soft but laced with smug amusement. He reached out and tugged lightly at a strand of Regulus’s hair that had fallen loose from its usual neat style. “It does something to your eyes.”

Regulus swatted his hand away, his ears burning. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not when I’m having this much fun,” James replied, sitting back on his heels and resting his arms on his knees. His gaze never wavered, and Regulus felt the weight of it like a physical force.

“Fun?” Regulus repeated, his voice sharper than he intended. “Is that all this is to you? A game?”

James blinked, his expression softening for a moment. He tilted his head, studying Regulus with a seriousness that caught him off guard. “No,” James said quietly. “Not a game. I just…” His lips quirked into a smaller, softer smile. “I like watching you squirm.”

Regulus’s breath hitched, and he cursed himself for the way his heart stuttered in response. “I can’t believe you.” he muttered, turning back to the weeds.

James shifted closer again, leaning in until his shoulder brushed Regulus’s. “You’re not denying it this time,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “That’s progress.”

Regulus’s fingers faltered, his grip on the weeds slackening. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, willing himself to stay composed. “James,” he said, his voice strained, “I will hex you.”

James chuckled, entirely unfazed. “You’d have to catch me first.”

Regulus turned his head sharply to glare at him, and James took the opportunity to lean in further, their faces inches apart now.

“Besides,” James said, his voice a whisper, “I think you like the attention.”

Regulus’s breath caught, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them felt heavy, charged with something unspoken but undeniable.

“Say it,” James said, his tone daring, his gaze locked on Regulus’s. “Tell me to stop.”

Regulus’s throat tightened, his words caught somewhere between his mind and his mouth. He wanted to say it. He should say it. But the words wouldn’t come.

James’s lips curved into a knowing smile, and he leaned back slightly, giving Regulus just enough space to breathe again. “Thought so,” he said, his voice light but dripping with satisfaction.

Regulus glared at him, his cheeks flaming. “You’re the worst.”

“You haven’t walked away,” James countered, his tone smug as he stood, brushing the dirt off his hands. “I’ll take that as a win.”

Regulus’s hands balled into fists, his frustration at James and himself, boiling just beneath the surface.

James’s grin widened as Regulus yanked at another weed with a bit more force than necessary. Regulus then shifted onto his knees, no longer caring about the dirt marks on his trousers. 

Apparently that had been a mistake. 

“You know,” James began, his voice a low drawl that sent a shiver racing down Regulus’s spine, “if you keep getting on your knees like that, you’re going to give me ideas.”

Regulus froze. Heat flooded his entire body, from the tips of his ears to the soles of his feet, and for a moment, he couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

James didn’t stop there. He leaned closer, close enough that Regulus could feel the whisper of his breath against his neck. His voice dropped to a sultry murmur. “And trust me, Reg, you’d look stunning on your knees for me.”

Regulus jerked upright, spinning to face him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped, though his voice came out weaker than he intended, breathless and shaky.

James, utterly unfazed, his grin bordering on wicked as he looked down at Regulus. “Nothing at all,” he replied smoothly, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “You’re just too easy to rile up.”

Regulus’s mouth opened, then closed again as words failed him. He clenched his fists, glaring at James with every ounce of composure he could muster… which wasn’t much.

“You’re actually unbelievable,” he finally managed, his voice low and venomous, though it lacked the bite it usually carried. “Honestly, were you dropped on your head as a child?”

“Maybe,” James said, his grin softening just enough to look infuriatingly fond. He stepped closer, offering a hand to Regulus as though the past minute hadn’t just unraveled him completely. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

Regulus stared at the outstretched hand, his thoughts spinning in a chaotic loop. He didn’t want to take it, didn’t want to give James the satisfaction. But his pride only held out for a second longer before he grudgingly placed his hand in James’s.

The contact was brief, but James’s grip was firm, steady. James pulled him in as soon as Regulus made it to his feet, he moved just close enough to murmur one last comment against his ear. “And for the record,” James said, his tone light but loaded, “you’re even prettier when you’re flustered.”

With that, James turned on his heel and headed toward the house, leaving Regulus standing there, still trying to catch his breath. His fingers twitched at his sides, the phantom sensation of James’s touch lingering far longer than it should have.

Regulus swallowed hard, his pulse hammering in his ears as he stared after James. His mind was a mess of jumbled thoughts and emotions, none of which he was ready to confront.

When he finally stepped inside, his heart still thudding in his chest as the tension from the encounter lingered in the air around him. He couldn’t let James have the upper hand for too long. There was something about that damned grin, the way James had sauntered away with that smug confidence. It grated on him, left him feeling unsettled.

He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes narrowing as he watched James rinse the dirt from his hands, unaware of the storm brewing in Regulus’s mind. James was getting far too bold, far too confident.

Regulus was gonna change that. 

As James casually spoke, his back to Regulus as he dried his hands, Regulus couldn’t help but watch the movement of his muscles, the way his shirt clung to his back. It was all too easy to imagine how much closer he wanted to be. But that wasn’t the point. The point was showing James that he didn’t get to have the power here.

“You know, for someone who didn’t grow up with garden chores, you’re not half bad at pulling weeds. It’s almost like you care about those flowers out there.” James said casually, not turning to face him. 

Regulus stepped closer, his movements deliberate. “And for someone who talks too much, you’re surprisingly good at staying out of my way when I want to get something done,” he replies, his tone smooth, almost playful.

James glances over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “That supposed to be a compliment, Reg?”

“Take it however you want,” Regulus says, sliding into the space beside him at the sink. He reaches past James to grab a towel, deliberately brushing his fingers against James’s arm in the process. The touch is light, fleeting, but enough to make James glance at him, his grin faltering for just a moment.

Regulus doesn’t let up. He takes the towel and turns, leaning back casually against the counter, his gaze steady and unflinching. 

“So.” Regulus shifts his weight slightly, the movement casual but intentional, drawing James’s eyes lower for just a moment. “Are we done with the gardening commentary, or should I expect another riveting analysis of my technique?”

James recovers quickly, his usual grin sliding back into place like a mask. “Oh, I could keep going if you’d like. Maybe next time I’ll bring a clipboard. Take notes on the way you—”

“Pull weeds?” Regulus interrupts smoothly, a faint smirk curving his lips. “I’d offer you lessons, but I’m not sure you’d be able to keep up.”

James huffs a laugh, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression… hesitation, maybe. “You really think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?”

Regulus doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he steps closer, crowding into James’s space just enough to make him falter. “Oh, I do,” he says softly, his voice low and deliberate.

James swallows, his grin slipping as his eyes dart down to where Regulus’s hand, light, deliberate, comes to rest on the edge of the counter beside his.

For a moment, the air between them crackles, the tension nearly suffocating. James feels the words slipping from his control, but he refuses to let Regulus win. 

He leans in just slightly, enough to meet Regulus’s gaze head-on. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re enjoying this, Black,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with smugness.

Regulus tilts his head, his smirk deepening. “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re out of your depth, Potter.” 

Regulus is calm, composed, and calculating. A predator toying with its prey. His confidence swells with each flicker of James’s gaze, the way those hazel eyes can’t seem to decide where to land: his lips, his hands, or the stretch of his collarbone visible beneath the loose neckline of his shirt.

James grinned, lazy and smug, though his eyes betrayed something sharper, “Out of my depth? Please.” He lowered his voice, “I’ll have no problem handling you, Reg.”

Regulus’s smirk shifted, something darker flashing in his eyes. He let his eyes trail the length of James’ body, his voice a dangerous purr. “Aren’t you bold to assume so, Jamie?”

There was a beat of silence, and Regulus’s smirk deepened. “You’re staring,” he noted, his voice laced with amusement.

James’s grin didn’t falter. He met Regulus’s gaze head-on, unbothered. “Staring? No, just appreciating the view.”

Regulus arched an eyebrow, “The view?”

James tilted his head, his grin widening. “What can I say? You’re hard to ignore, Reg. Especially with the way you—” He paused, leaning in just slightly, his voice dropping into a low murmur. “—wrap those pretty fingers around things. Makes a bloke wonder what else you could do with them.”

The comment hung in the air, charged and dangerous, and James had the audacity to smirk as if he’d already won.

But Regulus didn’t flinch. Didn’t blush. Didn’t retreat.

Instead, he moved.

In one swift motion, Regulus grabbed James’s jaw, his long, elegant fingers digging into the soft skin of his cheeks, tilting his head down sharply. The force of it startled James, his breath hitching as Regulus stepped in close, so close their breath mingled in the space between them.

James’s grin fell, his eyes wide and suddenly glassy, and his body reacted instantly. Heat rushed through him, his chest tightening, his legs suddenly feeling like they might give out beneath him.

“You like my hands, Jamie?” Regulus asked, his voice low and laced with mockery. His thumb pressed just slightly against James’s bottom lip, teasing the soft skin there. 

James managed a small, almost imperceptible nod, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Huh?” Regulus prompted, his tone tauntingly sweet, his thumb pressing just enough to part James’s lips further. His grip on James’s jaw tightened for a brief second before sliding down, his palm gliding over his throat.

James’s eyes fluttered shut, a shaky breath escaping him as Regulus’s hand wrapped around his jugular, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make his thoughts scatter completely. 

“Look at you,” Regulus murmured, “So confident just a second ago, and now you’re already falling apart for me.”

James’s hands twitched at his sides, every instinct screaming at him to grab Regulus, to flip the tables somehow, but he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to.

The damned way he said those words, for me, completely undid James. Regulus had him wrapped around his finger and he fucking knew it. 

Regulus tilted his head, studying him, his lips curling into a slow, wicked smile. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” He asked softly, his voice a whisper. “Someone to put you in your place?” His thumb brushed over the curve of James’s jaw. 

James’s breath hitched, his teeth caught his bottom lip, a fleeting motion betraying the swirl of emotions threatening to overtake him. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. 

Not now. Not when Regulus’ hand pressed against his throat with maddening pressure. Not when he looked at James like he owned him, like he knew James would do anything for him. And fuck, he would. 

“Would you like that, Jamie?” Regulus asked, his voice dangerously low. His fingers flexed against James’s throat, letting his nails dig ever so slightly into the tender skin here. 

James’s lips parted again, a broken sound escaping him, but no words came. He could only nod, his body betraying him as heat pooled low in his stomach, every nerve alight with the weight of Regulus’s touch.

Regulus tilted his head, his smirk growing. 

“What’s the matter?” he whispered, his breath ghosting over James’s lips. “You can’t use your words like a good boy?”

Every muscle in James’ body screamed at him to close the distance, to slam Regulus against the wall and kiss him until neither of them could think straight.

“Fuck, Reggie,” James muttered, his voice tight with need, the sound low and almost pleading.

His hands shot up then, gripping Regulus’s hips as if to steady himself. His restraint was slipping, he could feel it, but he held back, just barely, his fingers trembling against the fabric of Regulus’s shirt.

Regulus chuckled softly, his thumb brushing along the hollow of James’s throat. “You’re not used to someone turning the tables on you, are you?”

James managed a ragged breath, his eyes fluttering open to meet Regulus’s. 

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he muttered, his voice low and strained.

“Oh, I think I do,” Regulus replied, his voice silky smooth, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. His hand slid away from James’s throat, trailing down his chest, moving lower with agonizing slowness.

James’s breath hitched as Regulus’s fingers ghosted over his skin, the touch light but electrifying. The slow, deliberate descent made James’s entire body tense, every muscle screaming for more. Regulus’s fingers dipped lower, skimming just below his navel, and James’s hips stuttered forward involuntarily, a soft, desperate moan escaping before he could stifle it.

The heat in his body was overwhelming, spreading like wildfire through every inch of him, and it was taking every ounce of willpower to remain still. His fingers dug into the soft fabric of Regulus’s shirt, gripping tightly, desperate to keep some semblance of control, though it was slipping fast.

He wanted to kiss him. Gods, he wanted it so badly, but something held him back. Part of him knew, deep down, that the moment he kissed Regulus, there’d be no going back.

“Think of my hands a lot, do you?” Regulus asked, his voice deceptively soft as his fingers trailed lazily along James’s waistband.

“More than I should,” James admitted, his voice low and gravelly.

“Hmm,” Regulus hummed in amusement, clearly enjoying the involuntary way James’s hips edged forward, desperate for more contact. His smirk deepened as he leaned in closer, his tone a silken murmur. “Like to imagine what they’d look like wrapped around you, huh?”

The words sent a shiver through James, and before he could stop himself, a quiet, breathless groan escaped his lips. His head tipped back, the image Regulus painted searing itself into his mind.

His hands flexed almost bruisingly on Regulus’s hips, the grip both a plea and a warning. “Yes,” he breathed.

Regulus tilted his head, his lips brushing just close enough to James’s ear to make his mind go blank. “Tell me, Jamie,” he whispered, voice dipping into something darker, sharper, “what makes you think you’re good enough to think about me when you’re touching yourself?”

James froze, his mind blanking under the sheer weight of those words. He tried to form a response, to hold his ground, but he was completely undone, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. His grip faltered, his composure shattered.

His cock was impossibly hard and straining against the seam of his trousers, Regulus’s words sending waves of heat through James’s body that seared him almost as much as his gaze. 

He was losing. Again. He knew it, and Regulus did too.

James was moments away from losing it completely when the sound of the front door opening interrupted them, followed by the voices of Euphemia and Sirius entering.

Regulus smiled, deceptively sweet, his hands pressing flat against James' chest resting there a moment before he shoved James back roughly, the spell between them breaking.

James staggered, breathless, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to collect himself. James pressed a hand to his chest, his heart racing as he silently cursed himself, and Regulus for the millionth time.

For a moment, they stayed like that. James completely undone, his body trembling, and Regulus reveling in the power he held over him. Then, with deliberate slowness, Regulus stepped further away and smoothing his shirt as if nothing had happened.

James slumped against the counter, his breath ragged, his body burning with frustration and want. Merlin, he’d never wanted anything quite this bad.

His body burned with it. The desire to have Regulus, to hold him, taste him, worship him. 

Regulus tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost playful. “Better catch your breath, Potter,” he said, his tone light but still charged. “Wouldn’t want you passing out on me.”

James blinked at him, his chest still heaving, and managed a weak, shaky laugh. “You’re—Fuck, you’re something else, Reg.”

Regulus didn’t reply, only giving James one last lingering look before turning on his heel and sauntering down the hallway, leaving James standing there wrecked and wanting and entirely at his mercy.

Sagged against the counter, his knees felt shaky beneath him, and his chest heaved as if he’d just finished a bloody Quidditch match. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, willing his pulse to slow, but the image of Regulus smirking, taunting, knowing haunted him.

Merlin, he was doomed. Worse than that, he was entirely, completely crumbling.

The soft hum of voices and the click of the front door yanked him back to reality. Sirius and Mum, back with their shopping bags. James scrambled upright, dragging a hand through his messy hair, and slipped out of the kitchen before they could notice the mess he’d become. He was not prepared for Sirius’s teasing or his mum’s all-too-knowing looks right now. He wasn’t prepared for anything except collapsing into his bed and praying for salvation.

He took the stairs two at a time, shut the door to his room behind him, and threw himself face-first onto the mattress. The muffled groan that escaped him felt primal, like the last shred of restraint he had left. He buried his face into the sheets, gripping the fabric tightly in his fists as his mind raced.

How the hell was he supposed to survive this?

Regulus was gaining confidence, that much was clear. And why wouldn’t he? He knew. Of course he bloody knew. The smirks, the way he looked at James, the deliberate brushes of his hand. He was playing with James, and James was letting him.

No, worse than that. James was losing to him.

The way Regulus’s long fingers had felt around his jaw, delicate but firm, biting into his skin as if he belonged to him… James couldn’t stop the shudder that rippled through him. He swore he could still feel those fingers trailing down his body, leaving a path of fire that hadn’t yet cooled. His chest burned with it, the sensation so vivid it felt branded into his skin.

Gods, he was lost forever. He was sure of it.

James sighed, his mind still replaying every detail of the interaction. The way Regulus had looked at him, the way he’d spoken. His voice, low and smooth, curling around the words like a spell. “Would you like that, Jamie?”

Oh, fucking yes. Yes, he would like that. Very much so. 

But not as much as he’d like to force Regulus down to his knees and watch him choke and drool around him. Hear the soft noises of Regulus’ moans as they vibrated through his body, feel the wet heat of his throat contract around his cock. 

James clenched his jaw as the thought alone sent a sharp jolt through his stomach. His hips twitched involuntarily, pressing forward against the mattress, and he groaned, loud and frustrated, at the tiny, maddening bit of relief the pressure gave him. His fists twisted the sheets tighter. No. 

He wasn’t some hormonal third year, and he wasn’t going to be reduced to rutting against his mattress like one just because of Regulus fucking Black. But the memory of his voice, his touch, the sheer intensity of his gaze, refused to leave him.

James flipped onto his side, trying to escape his own thoughts, but it was no use. He cursed himself under his breath, the sound sharp in the quiet room. Regulus had upended everything. For years, James had known exactly who he was, exactly what he wanted. And now? Now he wasn’t so sure.

What he did know, what he could no longer deny, was that he wanted Regulus. Wanted him in a way that felt all-consuming, like a fire that wouldn’t stop spreading. He wanted to touch him, kiss him, fuck him, yes. But it wasn’t just that.

James wanted all of him. Every part.

He wanted to kiss and lick and claim every inch of Regulus’s pale, perfect skin. Wanted to hear his soft, sharp gasps, see him flushed and trembling. Wanted to see him shatter, to cry and beg for James in a way that no one else had ever seen. Wanted him beneath him, above him, wrapped around him, holding him in place as James lost himself completely.

The thought was so raw, so visceral, that it scared him. The hunger he felt wasn’t just physical. It was something deeper, something he felt in his chest and gut, something he didn’t know how to handle.

His fingers twitched, remembering how soft Regulus’s skin had felt under them, how his body had felt pressed against James’s days before. James’s breath caught in his throat as he thought of it again: Regulus perched on his lap, his dark hair falling into his pale, sharp features, his lips slightly parted. Those lips—Merlin, those lips. James thought of them constantly, wondered how they’d feel, how they’d taste, and—

“Fuck,” James hissed, throwing an arm over his eyes as if to block out the image. It didn’t work.

He was ruined.

                   *   ~  *  ~   *

James was lying face down on his bed, his arms sprawled out like he’d been defeated in a particularly brutal battle. Which, in a way, he had—only the battlefield was the kitchen, and the opponent was Regulus Black. He hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, replaying every infuriating second of their encounter.

The door to his room burst open without warning, slamming against the wall.

“Alright, Prongs, that’s enough moping,” Sirius announced, striding in with all the subtlety of a Bludger. “Up. Now.”

James groaned, not even bothering to lift his head. “Go away, Pads.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Sirius grabbed the back of James’s shirt and tugged. “You’ve been sulking in here all day, and frankly, it’s embarrassing. You’re not some lovesick third year.”

James rolled onto his side, scowling. “I’m not sulking.”

“You’re literally sulking,” Sirius said, yanking James up by the arm. “Come on. Outside. You need to hit something—or someone—and I’m volunteering myself as tribute.”

“I’m not in the mood—”

“Too bad!” Sirius cut him off with a grin, dragging him toward the door. “You’re dueling me, Prongs. Right now. Unless you’d rather sit here and fantasize about my brother’s long, delicate fingers some more.”

James stumbled, his ears going red. “You’re an arse.”

“And you’re pathetic. Let’s go.”

Despite his protests, James allowed Sirius to pull him outside. The late afternoon sun bathed the garden in a golden glow, the air cool but not biting. Sirius strode ahead, twirling his wand between his fingers like a baton, while James trudged after him, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Here we go,” Sirius said, stopping in the middle of the lawn and turning to face James. “Clear your head, mate. Let me help you stop thinking about—oh, I don’t know—Regulus for five bloody minutes.”

James sighed, finally pulling his wand out. “I hate you.”

“I know. Ready?”

Sirius didn’t wait for an answer, immediately firing off a Disarming Charm. James deflected it easily, but Sirius grinned. “Not bad. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

The duel began in earnest, their wands moving in quick, fluid motions. Sirius was relentless, sending a barrage of hexes and jinxes, while James deflected most of them with ease.

“You’re holding back,” Sirius said after dodging a Jelly-Legs Jinx.

“I’m not,” James replied, though his spells lacked their usual force.

“You are. Come on, Prongs. Imagine I’m someone you actually want to curse into oblivion.” Sirius waggled his eyebrows. “Reggie, maybe?”

James froze mid-motion, and Sirius took the opportunity to send a Charm his way that knocked the air from him. James doubled over, his wand slipping from his hand.

“Pads—stop!” he managed between gasps.

Sirius finally ended the spell, laughing as James collapsed onto the grass. “Merlin, you’re off your game. This is tragic.”

“Because you won’t stop talking about him,” James muttered, picking himself up.

Sirius crossed his arms dramatically. “I need details. What did he do this time? Smirk at you? Call you an idiot? Say something in that condescending tone of his that made you weak in the knees?”

James groaned, rubbing his face. “Shut up.”

“Not a chance.” Sirius leaned in closer, his grin wicked. “Admit it—you’re absolutely gone for him.”

James said nothing, but the silence was answer enough.

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder, his teasing expression softening. “Look, mate. I get it. He’s got that whole ‘pretty and mysterious’ thing going on. But if you keep bottling this up, you’re going to explode. And no one wants to deal with a lovesick James Potter, least of all me.”

James stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “You’re awful.”

“Maybe. But I’m also right.” Sirius picked up his wand again, pointing it at James. “Alright, Prongs,” Sirius said, spinning his wand theatrically in his fingers as he backed up to create more space. “No more holding back. I want to see the James Potter who once hexed three Slytherins at once without breaking a sweat.”

James rolled his eyes, his grip tightening on his wand. “You sure you’re ready for that, Pads? Don’t want to hurt your fragile ego.”

“Ha! You’ll have to catch me first!” Sirius fired a Stunning Spell, forcing James to dodge to the side before retaliating with a well-aimed Jinx.

Sirius leapt out of the way, laughing. “You call that a spell? Come on, Prongs, my mother can hex better than that, and she’s got both feet in the grave.”

“Oh, now you’ve done it.” James smirked and sent a Disarming Charm with enough force to knock Sirius’s wand halfway across the lawn.

“Oi!” Sirius yelped, scrambling after his wand. He dove, rolled, and came up with it pointed directly at James, his grin feral. “Cheap shot. You’re gonna pay for that.”

James raised an eyebrow. “You’re all talk, Black.”

Sirius’s grin widened, and he launched into a rapid-fire assault of hexes, jinxes, and shield charms, forcing James to move quickly. The air between them crackled with energy, sparks flying as spells collided mid-air.

“You’re slowing down, mate,” James teased as he deflected a Stinging Hex.

“And you’re getting cocky,” Sirius retorted, sending a Trip Jinx that James barely dodged. “What’s the matter? Too many late nights thinking about—”

James groaned. “Don’t. Even.”

Sirius laughed, but for once, he let it drop. Instead, he started circling James like a predator, his wand at the ready. “You know, it’s kind of unfair for you to be this tall. Makes you an easy target.”

“Didn’t stop me from beating your arse in dueling club last year,” James said, firing off a quick Levitation Charm that sent Sirius’s feet skidding out from under him.

Sirius hit the ground with a thud but immediately rolled to his feet, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Lucky shot. Don’t get used to it.”

The duel continued, the rhythm of it falling into a steady back-and-forth. Sirius’s spells were flashy but imprecise, while James’s were calculated and efficient.

“You’re too predictable,” James said, blocking yet another Knockback Jinx.

“Oh yeah?” Sirius twirled his wand before casting a spell James didn’t recognize. A sudden gust of wind knocked James flat on his back, his wand flying out of reach.

James glared up at him. “You absolute git.”

Sirius was cackling now, pointing his wand down at James like a victorious villain. “Predictable, was I?”

James lunged, tackling Sirius to the ground before he could get another spell off. They landed in a heap, Sirius’ wand flying out of his hand.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Sirius said, laughing as he wrestled to pin James down.

“You started it!” James grunted, flipping them over and shoving Sirius’s face into the grass.

Sirius twisted free, grabbing a fistful of James’s hair and yanking. “Admit it, you missed me winning for once!”

James barked out a laugh, twisting around to trap Sirius’s arm. “In your dreams, Pads!”

They rolled across the lawn, grappling like schoolboys until they were both lying flat on their backs, breathless and laughing.

“You’re the worst,” James said between gasps.

“But, you love me,” Sirius replied, his grin wide and unapologetic.

James chuckled, shaking his head. “I hate how much I needed that.”

“I know,” Sirius said, clapping James on the shoulder. “Now get up, you idiot. We’ve got dinner soon, and you smell like sweat and failure.”

“You smell worse.”

“Always with the last word.”

                   *  ~  *  ~   *

The light spilled softly into Regulus’s room, casting faint silvery shadows along the floor. He was seated by the window, book in hand, though he hadn’t turned a page in what felt like ages. His fingers traced the worn edges of the cover absentmindedly as his gaze flickered between the words and the view outside.

From the corner of his eye, movement caught his attention. Looking out the window, he spotted James and Sirius on the lawn, their wands raised, laughter ringing faintly through the glass.

James was flushed and disheveled, his shirt untucked, hair an absolute mess, sticking up worse than usual. His grin was wide, his entire body loose with energy as he ducked a Stinging Hex Sirius hurled his way, then fired off a Disarming Charm in return.

Regulus’s chest tightened.

The ease between them was infuriating. Watching them laugh and banter like it was second nature made something cold and heavy curl in his stomach. Sirius never laughed like that with him. And he didn’t expect him to anymore, not after everything. Still, it hurt.

But what unsettled Regulus more was the way his eyes lingered on James.

The sight of James like this. Shirt rumpled, glasses askew, hair falling into his eyes as he battled Sirius with that unrelenting spark of determination, was too much.

The longer he watched, the more vivid his thoughts became. He remembered James’s smile in the bookstore, the warmth in his voice as he made those insufferable little quips. He remembered the way James had looked at him, as if he was genuinely curious, genuinely interested. And worse, he remembered how his own heart had betrayed him by pounding so hard he was certain James could hear it.

Regulus forced himself to look away, his fingers tightening around the spine of the book.

It was stupid. James was Sirius’s best friend and yet, for the first time in years, he wanted something. Wanted someone.

He glanced back out the window just as James tackled Sirius to the ground in a burst of laughter, both of them sprawling out on the grass like a pair of reckless boys with nothing to lose. Regulus’s heart gave a painful lurch.

He slammed the book shut and pushed himself to his feet, dragging a shaky hand through his hair. His chest felt tight, his thoughts a mess. He didn’t envy their bond, he told himself. He didn’t. He envied how easy they made everything look. And if his pulse quickened at the sight of James Potter disheveled and radiant under the dimming light, well…

That was no one’s business but his own.

                  *  ~  *   ~  *

The firelight flickered lazily, casting long, wavering shadows across the walls of the sitting room. James sat slouched in his chair, the quill in his hand still, hovering above the parchment. The half-written letter to Remus mocked him, its ink smudged from where his hand had lingered too long.

Moony, I need your advice, the letter began, though the rest of it was a tangle of crossed-out sentences and abrupt stops.

Sirius was sprawled out on the couch, head tipped back and one leg draped lazily over the armrest. He was fiddling with his wand, making small sparks crackle at its tip. It wasn’t until James sighed, loud and heavy, that Sirius finally glanced over.

James dragged a hand through his messy hair. He could talk to Sirius, he always could, but every time he so much as entertained the thought of saying, “Hey, Pads, you know I can’t stop thinking of what Reggie’s hand would look like wrapped around—” He imagined being hexed into next week. Or further. Sirius wasn’t the type to take kindly to thoughts as…less than pure as the ones James had been having about Regulus.

“All right, Prongs?” he asked, raising a brow. “You’ve been like this all day. If this is about losing to me earlier, you can admit it. I’ll be gracious.”

James snorted, setting the quill aside. “Don’t flatter yourself, Pads.”

“Then what is it?” Sirius pressed, sitting up and tossing his wand onto the table. His grey eyes narrowed in mock suspicion. “Something’s eating you. Spill it.” 

“It’s nothing,” James muttered, though he felt the heat creep up his neck.

“Nothing?” Sirius leaned forward, smirking. “You’ve been staring at that paper like it insulted mum. Just spit it out.” 

James snorted. “You’re stupid.”

“And you’re avoiding the question,” Sirius said, pointing his wand at James for emphasis. “Seriously, what’s got your knickers in a twist? It must be something good.”

James hesitated, his gaze flickering to the letter. “I was thinking of asking Moony to come over tomorrow.”

The change in Sirius was immediate. His face flushed a deep red, and he shifted awkwardly, suddenly very interested in the loose thread on the couch cushion. “Oh. Yeah? Uh, yeah, that’s fine. Whatever.”

James’s lips curled into a sly grin. “You sure, Pads? You’re looking a bit…flushed.”

“Shut it,” Sirius muttered, but the tips of his ears were turning crimson.

James leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “I mean, it’s just Moony, right? No big deal. Nothing to be worked up about.”

Sirius coughed, leaning back as if he didn’t care, though the tips of his ears were noticeably red. “It’s Fine. Whatever. I don’t care.”

“You don’t care?” James repeated, his grin widening.

“Nope.”

“Oh, really?” James pressed, leaning forward now. “Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not blushing,” Sirius snapped, crossing his arms.

“You’re definitely blushing.”

“Fuck off. You’re horrible,” Sirius shot back, his voice sharp but laced with something like embarrassment.

“And you’re transparent,” James said, laughing as he batted Sirius on the shoulder.

Recovering quickly, Sirius smirked. “You’ve got room to talk, mate. You’re sitting here writing letters instead of drooling over my baby brother like usual.”

James froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “I—what—no!”

“Oh, please,” Sirius drawled, leaning back with his arms crossed. “You’ve been tripping over yourself every time Reggie so much as looks at you. It’s embarrassing, honestly.”

“Shut up,” James muttered, his face burning.

“I mean, is it the way he smirks? The condescending tone? The ‘I’m-better-than-you’ attitude? Merlin knows that’s irresistible.”

“Shut up, Sirius.”

Sirius grinned, clearly delighted by James’ reaction. “You know, Lily radiated that same energy. I’d say you’ve got a type, Potter.”

James groaned, throwing his head back. “For the last time, there is no type—and I think you just need Moony to put you in your place when he’s here tomorrow.” He jabbed a finger at Sirius.

Sirius kicked at him lazily. “Oh, please. I could say the same to you. I know my brother. And when he wants the upper hand? He’ll take it. Merlin knows you’ll let him, too.”

James sputtered, warmth crawling up his neck as Sirius continued, his grin wicked.

“You’re pathetic, honestly. I bet he doesn’t even have to try. Just gives you one of those looks—” Sirius tilted his head, narrowing his eyes and smirking like a perfect imitation of Regulus. “‘Oh, I’m so unbothered, James.’ And you probably fall over yourself.”

“Are you done?” James snapped, trying not to smile.

“I’m never done.” Sirius leaned closer, his grin softening. “But, seriously, mate. You’ve got it bad. Might I say even worse than the years you spent fawning over Evans.” 

James opened his mouth to retort, but the sound of quiet footsteps approaching cut him off. Both boys turned toward the doorway.

Regulus stepped into the room, his sharp, delicate features softened by the firelight. He held a book under one arm, his dark eyes flicking between the two of them as if trying to gauge the mood. For a moment, silence stretched out, thick with unspoken tension and the faint crackle of the fire.

Sirius was the first to break it, his teasing grin returning as he flopped back against the couch. “Well, speak of the devil.” He gestured dramatically toward his brother. “Here to seduced James into submission, or just passing through?”

James shot Sirius a warning glare but couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to Regulus, who raised one elegant eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” Regulus said smoothly, moving toward the far armchair. “Though I can’t imagine whatever you two were discussing was of any real importance.”

Sirius laughed, throwing a cushion at James, who barely managed to dodge it. “See what I mean? The boy’s a menace. Good luck, Potter. You’re gonna need it.”

James groaned, burying his face in his hands. 

Regulus settled into the chair with his book, sparing a faintly amused glance in James’ direction before turning his attention to the pages. Sirius smirked, lounging back on the sofa with the satisfied air of someone who’d just won a battle James didn’t even know he was fighting.

James’s stomach gave a strange, traitorous flip when his gaze met Regulus’s. He quickly looked away, pretending to fiddle with the letter in his hands, desperate not to give Sirius any more ammunition.

But, Merlin, Sirius was right. Regulus didn’t just take power—he claimed it effortlessly, like it had always been his. And James? He folded every time, handing it over without a second thought. 

For now, at least. 

Sirius watched the two of them with poorly concealed amusement. Regulus opened his book, flipping through it absently, but every now and then, his gaze would flicker toward James. There was something subtle in the way his eyes softened when they landed on him, something Sirius didn’t miss.

James, on the other hand, was twitchy. His fingers fidgeted with the quill, and his knee bounced. He was clearly trying not to stare at Regulus, but failing miserably.

“So,” Sirius said, leaning forward with an exaggerated air of innocence. “How’s the book, Reg? Or is James distracting you too much?”

Regulus arched a brow, his lips twitching upward slightly. “I think James is more distracted than I am.”

James let out a strangled noise, nearly toppling his inkpot in his rush to sit up straight. “What? I’m not—”

Sirius barked out a laugh, clapping his hands together. “Oh, this is fantastic. Carry on, you two. Don’t mind me.”

Regulus’s faint smile deepened as he turned his attention back to the book in his lap, leaving James to silently fume. Sirius settled back against the couch, watching them with a satisfied smirk.

James was more than see through. His gaze lingering much too long every time he glances Reggie’s way. 

“Oi,” Sirius said, kicking James lightly in the shin.

James jumped, looking startled. “What?”

“You’re staring again,” Sirius said, smirking.

“I am not,” James hissed, his cheeks reddening.

“You absolutely are.”

Regulus looked up from his book, his brow furrowed slightly. “What are you two on about?”

“Nothing,” James said quickly.

“James can’t keep his eyes to himself,” Sirius said, earning a glare from James.

Regulus’s lips twitched upward faintly, though he said nothing, his focus returning to his book. Sirius chuckled to himself, leaning back on the couch.

“You suck.” James muttered under his breath.

“You’re hopeless,” Sirius shot back, tossing a cushion at him. 

James was gonna have way too much fun when Remus came over tomorrow. He glared and Sirius, sticking his tongue out at him. 

Sirius flipped him off in response before turning his attention to the fire place. 

Sirius kept one eye on the fire and the other on James and Regulus. 

It wasn’t ideal. Sirius would be lying if he said the thought of James and Regulus together wasn’t weird, but watching them now, he couldn’t help but feel a grudging sense of approval. James was an idiot, sure, but he’d never let anything hurt Reggie.

He wasn’t thrilled about it—But the more he thought about it, the more he realized there wasn’t anyone he’d trust more with his brother than James.

Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy watching James fumble over himself.

                  *   ~  *  ~  *

The fire crackled softly in the background, the only sound between James and Regulus, the silence hanging thick in the air. Sirius had quietly excused himself a while ago, sensing the tension, or maybe just the need for some space. Regardless, James hadn’t noticed him go. His attention was fixed entirely on Regulus, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts that didn’t make it past his lips.

James’ gaze lingered far too long, tracing the sharp lines of Regulus’s profile, the way his lashes fluttered as he pretended to be absorbed in his book. He couldn’t help it. Regulus had a way of commanding his attention that left James feeling both foolish and captivated. His fingers tapped incessantly on the armrest, anxiety seeping through his limbs, but his eyes stayed locked on Regulus, betraying his every thought.

After what felt like an eternity of pretending not to notice, Regulus finally turned to face him, his movements slow and deliberate. The corner of his lips lifted into something close to a smile, but it was all self-assured and unreadable, like he was enjoying the effect he had on James.

“Can I help you with something, James?” Regulus asked, his voice smooth, as if nothing in the world could fluster him. “Or are you just going to keep staring at me until I have a permanent hole in the side of my face?”

“I—I wasn’t—” James stammered, but the words didn’t come out right. His tongue felt thick, his usual confidence slipping through his fingers. God, this wasn’t how he was supposed to be acting.

He hated this. He’d been so confident earlier. Before Regulus had gone and ruined his life with that look, with the way he grabbed his jaw. The memory sent a jolt of warmth racing through James, making him self-conscious all over again. His pride, his ego, had taken a real beating today. He’d lost the duel with Sirius. And now, he was being trounced by Regulus with nothing more than a few sidelong glances.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he watched James fumble. “Lost a bit of your confidence, have you?” he teased, his voice dripping with the same condescending amusement James had always associated with him. And yet, there was something else there too, a subtle, quiet interest, almost like he was enjoying James’s discomfort.

James clenched his jaw, willing the frustration down. He wasn’t going to let Regulus see him this way. He had to regain some control.

This was ridiculous, he told himself. It was just Reggie. 

But the moment he glanced back at him, James’s resolve faltered. Regulus was watching him so intently, so damn knowingly, as if he could see right through James and into the depths of his thoughts. Every time their eyes met, James felt his heart skip a beat. It was maddening.

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to think straight when you’re messing with my head,” James muttered, his hands still twitching in his lap, needing something to do. Anything.

Regulus tilted his head, his expression almost playful. “Am I really messing with you, James?” he asked, leaning slightly forward, eyes glittering with amusement. “Or are you doing it to yourself?”

James felt a knot form in his stomach. It was the way Regulus was looking at him, the way he spoke. It wasn’t just teasing anymore, it was something deeper, something that made James question everything.

“No,” James said quickly, his voice a little too forceful. “I—look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but it’s not funny.”

Regulus’s eyes never left him. “Isn’t it?” he asked, his tone light, but his gaze was anything but casual. “I think I’m being quite generous, actually. Giving you a chance to speak your mind, to explain yourself.”

James clenched his fists, willing himself to stay calm, to not let this situation spiral out of his control again. But the way Regulus was staring at him, the little smirk still playing at the corners of his lips, made it so damn difficult to think clearly. James could feel his pulse in his throat, could feel the heat creeping up his neck. Regulus knew he had him.

But James hated losing.

“Fine,” James said, exhaling sharply, trying to force some semblance of control over himself. He sat up straighter, leaning his shoulders back in an attempt to regain his composure. But the moment he looked at Regulus again, everything inside him unraveled. Focus, he told himself. You’re fine.

He managed to drag a smirk onto his face, even though his pulse was hammering in his throat. “But you can hardly expect me to look anywhere else when you’re practically flaunting yourself at me.”

He gave a tight, self-deprecating smile, though his eyes never left Regulus. He could feel the tension growing between them, thick as smoke in the air.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into an amused smirk. “Flaunting myself?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair with that irritatingly effortless confidence. “I’m sitting here reading a book, James. Not doing a damned strip tease.”

And just like that, James’s mind betrayed him. The words hit him like a jolt of electricity, sending a thousand unwanted images rushing into his thoughts. He could see it now. Regulus, undressing slowly, each inch of skin revealed like a dare, a challenge. 

James’s breath caught, his mind conjuring things that were far too inappropriate to be thinking about, things that would make even Sirius choke on his drink. Regulus, in his usual manner, had effortlessly twisted the situation, and James was now spiraling.

His hands clenched at the armrest of his chair, fingers digging into the fabric as if he could anchor himself to something to keep from losing it completely.

James wanted to say something. But nothing came. His mouth felt dry, his thoughts jumbled, and he was sure that whatever words he managed would come out completely wrong.

Regulus’s cool indifference only made it worse. The quiet way he sat there, effortlessly disarming James with every word, every glance. It was too much.

“You, Jamie, are much too easy.” Regulus said, his voice lower now, light but tinged with something else. The way Regulus leaned forward, making that comment, like it was just another casual observation—James could almost feel the weight of it pressing down on him.

The casual use of that name struck James like a physical blow, his pulse quickening. He knew it was deliberate, Regulus toying with him, but it still hit a nerve. James could feel the heat rising to his face, the weight of the words heavy in his chest. His fingers tightened around the armrest, nails scraping against the wood.

And then, in one sudden, chaotic flash, James imagined it. Grabbing him by the throat, yanking him forward, crashing their lips together. The thought was so vivid, so intense, that James almost swore he could taste it. 

But his body didn’t move. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Instead, he breathed in raggedly, his chest heaving. He locked eyes with Regulus, this time deliberately narrowing his gaze, and held it there. A dark stare, a challenge. And for a brief moment, Regulus hesitated. 

James felt the shift, the moment where the power tilted just slightly in his favor.

He leaned back in his chair, pressing his hips forward as though adjusting himself, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He didn’t miss the way Regulus’s eyes dropped, trailing along his body. To his lap. And the moment Regulus’s gaze faltered, James smirked. He felt a surge of triumph.

Leisurely, deliberately, James ran a hand up his thigh, dragging his fingers across the fabric of his trousers. Regulus didn’t even try to hide it. His eyes tracked the motion languid and slow. 

He could feel Regulus’s gaze following every inch of it, his body tense, but his eyes never leaving the path. 

James smirked, the satisfaction of finally gaining some control over the situation blooming in his chest. With a tilt of his head, he let the words slip from his mouth, dripping with a confidence he didn’t entirely feel.

“Want an invitation, Reggie?” He patted his thigh, the motion casual, but the words purposeful. A dare.

Regulus’s body tensed, the muscle in his jaw tightening as if he was trying to fight some instinct to move. His fingers curled tightly around the book, the knuckles going white, and James couldn’t help but watch. His eyes dropped to those fingers, feeling a wave of heat rush through him as he imagined them tightening around his cock instead. 

James watched intently, captivated by the small, almost imperceptible changes in Regulus’s expression. The way his muscles locked, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.

Regulus didn’t move. Not at first. But the way his eyes darted from James’s face to his lap and back again… He was fighting it, James realized. 

Regulus was so close to breaking. James could see it, that slight wariness in Regulus’s gaze. His fingers trembled just enough to betray him. James could almost feel the tension pulling between them, the game they were playing spinning out of control.

Regulus broke the silence. His lips curled into a slow, confident smirk as he leaned back, his voice low and dangerous.

“Why would I need an invitation, Potter?” he drawled, eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. 

James blinked, startled by the sharpness of the retort. Regulus looked utterly smug, his confidence climbing as he noticed James’s hesitation. For a fleeting moment, Regulus believed he had won this round—that James was caught off guard, that he’d claimed the power in their game once again.

But James wasn’t done yet.

He didn’t take kindly to losing and he was determined for Regulus to break first.

Sliding his hand the rest of the way up his thigh, James let his fingers brush over the growing bulge beneath his trousers. His lips parted, and a soft, intentional noise escaped him. Regulus’s smug expression faltered, his cocky demeanor crumbling as his eyes darted between James’s lap and his face again.

James tilted his hips forward into his hand, gently, letting his eyes flutter closed as he bit down on his bottom lip. Confidence surged through him when he heard it. A soft, quiet whine escaping Regulus. The sound sent a jolt of heat straight through James, making his hips stutter involuntarily as he barely swallowed back a noise of his own.

Then he pinned Regulus with a heavy-lidded stare, his lips wet and slightly parted. His voice was soft, low, and teasing as he tilted his head. “Huh?” 

Regulus’s body twitched, almost like he was about to move, to give in. But he held back, his fingers tightening against the book again, his chest heaving. The intensity in his eyes was undeniable. Heat, arousal, frustration all tangled together.

James let the tension sit between them for a moment longer before leaning forward slightly. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again.

“What’s the matter, Reg? Afraid?”

Regulus’s mouth opened like he was about to respond, but before he could, James, without thinking, slid his hand higher, giving himself a slow, deliberate squeeze. A low, needy groan escaped him as he tilted his head back, his eyes trained on Regulus’ face. 

Regulus gasped, his breath hitching as his body betrayed him. The ache pooling in his stomach was unbearable, clawing at him with every motion James made. He was transfixed, every rational thought spiraling into the void as he watched. As he heard. Merlin, he heard.

Regulus was seconds away from risking everything, right here, in the middle of the bloody living room. When the sharp crash of something falling upstairs shattered the tension like glass.

James jumped, startled, his spell over Regulus breaking as he adjusted himself quickly. With an irritated sigh, James pushed himself up from his chair, running a hand through his hair in frustration. But before he turned to leave, he stepped toward Regulus, leaning down until he was eye level with him.

Planting both hands on the armrests of Regulus’s chair, James boxed him in, his face so close that Regulus couldn’t look anywhere but at him. Regulus was completely undone, and James drank it in. The flushed cheeks, the uneven breathing, the way he clutched the book in his lap as if it were the only thing grounding him.

Lowering his voice to a whisper, James let his gaze drift downward, lingering pointedly on the unmistakable bulge in Regulus’s trousers. A smug smile tugged at his lips as he leaned in closer.

“Think about it,” he murmured, his tone velvet-soft but full of challenge.

James lifted one hand from the armrest, his fingers sliding into the dark strands at the nape of Regulus’ neck. He tugged with deliberate strength, tilting Regulus’ head back just enough to expose the curve of his throat. Regulus whimpered quietly, his lips parting instinctively as his wide, stormy eyes locked on James’s. 

Fuck. In that moment, he was utterly at James’s mercy. Regulus found himself wanting James to pull harder, to force his head back and claim his mouth. To leave more marks tattered across his skin. 

Merlin, yes. Was Regulus’s only coherent thought. 

His eyes fluttered shut as James' fingers tightened their grip, smirking when he realized how much Regulus had liked it. 

James let the tension stretch for just a moment longer, savoring the way Regulus trembled beneath his touch. Then, with no warning, he tightened his grip and yanked. Hard. 

Regulus gasped, a sharp, startled sound that dissolved into something utterly wrecked, a ragged moan spilling from his lips before he could stop it. 

James exhaled a slow, satisfied breath, his dark eyes gleaming with something triumphant. “Oh,” he murmured, voice rich with amusement, “you really do like that, don’t you?”

Regulus didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His chest rose and fell rapidly, lips parted as he stared up at James, completely gone.

James chuckled, low and dark. The sound sent a shiver down Regulus’s spine, heat coiling tighter in his gut.

Then, just as quickly as he’d grabbed him, James let go, pushing Regulus back into the chair with a force that sent his breath hitching. Regulus barely had a second to recover before James was stepping away, already turning for the door.

“You have an open invitation, Reggie,” James called over his shoulder, his tone almost lazy, but the promise in it was unmistakable.

And then he was gone, leaving Regulus alone, panting, flushed, and wanting.

Regulus couldn’t move. The absence of James’s heat left the room cold, the tension still humming faintly in his chest. He stared at the space where James had just been, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the rest of the house.

He had almost broken. Almost. Regulus could still feel the ghost of James’s hand in his hair, the warmth of his breath against his skin, the weight of that smug, unrelenting gaze. He hadn’t given in, but Merlin, he’d wanted to.

His mind replayed the way James had looked at him, how it felt like James was waiting for him to get up and sit right in his lap, to make that move. The thought stirred something deep within Regulus. 

Then there was the outline of James’s cock, visible through his trousers, and his mouth went dry. The way James had looked at him—no, the way he’d waited for him.

Regulus closed his eyes briefly, remembering how it had felt the other day, the pressure of James’ hard length against him. His fingers clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white as he bit down on the urge to groan. 

James had moved, so casually, sliding his hand up his thigh. Over his cock. Regulus could still see it clearly, as if it were branded in his memory. His eyes had followed every inch of it, his chest tightening with a mix of frustration and something darker.

His body ached with want, the thought of James touching him making his heart race. Those big, calloused hands. Merlin, he wanted them everywhere.

And the noises. The deep groan that rumbled through James chest, the way he thrust into his own hand—shit. 

Regulus’s thoughts spiraled, and he forced himself to push them away. But damn it, the more he tried to fight it, the worse it got.

Unable to stay there, in the living room. He rushed himself up abruptly, rushing to his room.

                    *  ~  *  ~  *

Upstairs, James was pushing open the door to his room, rolling his eyes as he took in the sight of his friend in the middle of some kind of chaos. Books were scattered, drawers half-open, and something metallic had clattered to the floor. Sirius looked up with an exaggerated grimace.

“Don’t give me that look,” Sirius said, his voice teasing, “Reggie giving you a run for your money, huh?” 

James cocked his head, trying to make sense of the situation, still flushed from the tension he had left behind. “What are you talking about?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Don't play dumb, James. You look like you’re one second away from spontaneous combustion.”

James’s eyes widened, a laugh escaping him despite the frustration. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ignore the tension that still lingered in his body. “He’s… something else, Pads.”

Sirius dramatically covered his ears, leaning back in his chair. “Please, spare me the details. I really don’t need to know what you two get up to.”

James let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he turned to the window to send his owl to Remus. His thoughts were still a jumble, too many emotions to process all at once. After the owl was sent off, he collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The weight of everything pressed down on him. Regulus, his own feelings, the tension that refused to release.

He wanted Regulus so badly. To touch him. To kiss him. Claim him in every way possible. See him trembling, shaking and blissed out. All for him. 

He wanted to have Regulus, wreck him, ruin him until he could do nothing but think of James. Beg for him. 

James wanted to cross that line and see where it would lead. But now, with the moment lost and everything still hanging in the air, James felt more overwhelmed than ever. 

How had they gotten to this point? And why was it so difficult to pull away? To resist?

                  *  ~  *  ~  *

Regulus whimpered, his body trembling as he pressed against his bedroom door, his fingers moving frantically over himself. His mind was a storm, wild and uncontrollable, replaying every moment. James’s voice, the low groans that had spilled from his lips, the feel of his breath ghosting over Regulus’s skin, the steady strength of his chest.

And the way his fingers tightened in Regulus’s hair and pulled.

A sharp gasp escaped him, his teeth sinking into his lip as he tried to stifle the sounds threatening to spill out. His thumb brushed over the tip, spreading the moisture there, the sensation dragging a broken moan from his throat. His hips bucked involuntarily, his legs quivering as he struggled to stay upright, the door the only thing keeping him from collapsing.

He let his head fall back against the wood with a heavy thud, squeezing his eyes shut as his breathing turned ragged, desperate. The image of James’s hand sliding over himself burned into his mind. The way his hips had stuttered into his own hand when Regulus had whined.

In the moment, Regulus had been mortified. But James’s reaction, the look on his face, had ignited something within him that was impossible to extinguish. The thought sent a sharp, consuming heat crashing through him.

His release hit like a tidal wave, overwhelming and unstoppable, his whole body trembling with the force of it. Each spurt wracked him, pulling him deeper under until he was left gasping, utterly spent.

Regulus slumped against the door, sliding down to the floor as his head spun. His chest heaved, his body a trembling, exhausted mess, but his mind… his mind was a whirlwind. Memories of James, fragments of touches, looks, and words swirled together, tangling into something that felt both out of control and inescapable.

Whatever they were doing, whatever this was between them, it was treacherous ground. Thin ice.

And James. Damn him, had the upper hand.

Regulus wanted him. There was no doubt, no hesitation. He wanted everything. Every part of James, every kiss, every touch, every breath.

And the terrifying part?

He knew he would give James everything in return.

Chapter Text

August 4th

James leaned, staring out of the window as if willing the clock to speed up. The letter from Remus lay nearby, his neat handwriting confirming he’d arrive around noon. It was only ten-thirty, and James felt like he was crawling out of his skin. Nearly two hours is too bloody long.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and James glanced over, his stomach flipping when he saw Regulus. He looked devastating as ever, dressed in a sharp navy sweater and tailored trousers, his hair neatly combed, his expression calm. Too calm. Like nothing had happened the night before. His gray eyes, however, betrayed him when they flickered to James for a split second too long.

“Morning,” Regulus said smoothly, heading to the kettle like absolutely nothing was amiss. 

“Morning,” James replied, though his voice cracked slightly. He straightened, crossing his arms as he watched Regulus pour himself a cup of tea.

“You’re up early,” Regulus said casually, not looking at him.

“So are you,” James countered, his tone tighter than he intended.

Regulus glanced over his shoulder, finally meeting James’s gaze. There it was again. That sharp, knowing look, the one that made James feel like Regulus could see straight through him. Then, as if on cue, Sirius bounded down the stairs, all energy and dramatics.

“Right, what do we think?” Sirius announced, pausing at the bottom step with a broad grin. He was wearing a fitted black shirt that showed off his hip tattoo and tight trousers, his usual messy hair looking slightly more deliberate. He struck a pose. “Too much? Or just enough to drive him mad?”

James snorted, grateful for the distraction. “Trying to impress, are we?”

“Impress? Please. I always look this good. You’re just jealous,” Sirius shot back, though his grin faltered for half a second.

“Sure, that’s it,” James teased, folding his arms. His grin turned wicked. “Just try not to trip over yourself when Remus gets here. You know, like last time.”

Sirius’s ears turned pink, and he glared. “That was one time, and it was the bloody rug!” he growled.

Regulus, who had been quietly sipping his tea, let out a soft laugh, drawing Sirius’s attention. “Don’t listen to him, Sirius. You look great,” he said with a small smile.

Sirius beamed for a moment before Regulus tilted his head, his voice taking on an unmistakable edge. “I’m sure Remus will be thrilled with how little you’ve left to the imagination.”

Sirius’s grin dissolved into a scowl, and he flipped Regulus off. “At least I’m not the one staring at James like he’s dessert at a feast,” Sirius shot back.

James froze, his cheeks heating as he avoided looking at either of them. Regulus, however, didn’t flinch. Instead, he took his time setting down his cup of tea and turned, leaning lazily against the counter. His gray eyes locked onto James deliberately, his gaze slow. Then, with a small smirk, he bit his bottom lip, his expression full of mock seduction.

James felt his brain short-circuit. Regulus tilted his head, the smirk deepening as he drawled, “What can I say? He’s not bad to look at.”

Sirius groaned loudly, throwing his hands over his face. “Oh, bloody hell! Stop! It’s too early for this. I’m going to go blind!”

James blinked rapidly, his pulse racing as he tore his gaze away from Regulus. “I—I’m going for a fly,” he stammered, grabbing his broom from where it rested by the door. “I’ll see you lot later.”

He bolted before anyone could stop him, leaving Sirius and Regulus alone.

Regulus laughed softly as he watched James flee, a flicker of amusement lighting his face. “He is much too easy,” he remarked.

Sirius snorted, flopping onto the couch. “Yes, he’s hopeless. And you’re cruel.”

“I’m not cruel,” Regulus said, rolling his eyes. “James is just… responsive.”

Sirius groaned again, throwing his head back dramatically. “You two are going to kill me. I’m sure of it.”

Regulus smirked and settled into an armchair, crossing one leg over the other. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter. “You should’ve seen James last night when he came to our room. He looked like he’d been hit with a bloody love spell or something.”

Regulus’s smirk faltered for a moment as an image of James’s hand sliding up his thigh flickered in his mind. He quickly pushed it away, maintaining his composure.

“Admit it, though,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re enjoying watching him fumble. His usual arrogance disintegrates the moment I bat my lashes at him.” 

Sirius gave a mock thoughtful look, a slow grin spreading across his face. “It is pretty funny. He’s not used to being challenged. Or losing.” 

“Oh, I’ve noticed.” Regulus’s smirk returned. “He folds immediately. Can hardly handle a little game.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, covering his ears. “Ugh, seriously, Reg. I’m going to puke.”

Regulus scoffed. “And that’ll be me in a few hours when you’re staring at Remus with your ‘take me’ eyes.”

Sirius grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. Regulus ducked easily, chuckling as the pillow hit the armchair behind him.

Euphemia’s voice cut through the room as she entered, carrying a basket of laundry. “Where’s James?” she asked, glancing between the brothers.

Both Sirius and Regulus pointed toward the door. “Outside,” they said in unison.

Euphemia smiled warmly, heading to the kitchen.

Regulus stood after a moment, brushing imaginary lint off his sweater. “I’d better go bottle my potions,” he said, excusing himself smoothly.

Sirius gave a mock salute. “Go on, then, Evil Genius.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips as he left the room.

                  *   ~    *     ~    *

James shot into the sky like a streak of fire, the cold morning wind biting at his face and tearing through his hair. He leaned forward on his broom, urging it faster and faster as if speed alone could outpace the storm raging in his head. The rolling fields below blurred into a sea of green and gold as he soared, the weight of his thoughts pressing against him no matter how high he climbed.

He banked sharply to the left, cutting through the air in a steep spiral. He dropped into a feint so sharp his stomach lurched, pulling up at the last possible second before skimming the tops of the trees. His muscles burned with the effort, his hands gripping the broom so tightly his knuckles turned white. The ache in his body was a welcome distraction, but it wasn’t enough. The same thoughts he’d been running from all morning chased him down no matter how fast he flew.

Gods, I need Moony, James thought desperately, letting out a frustrated growl as he veered sharply upward again. He couldn’t wait for Remus to get there. He needed someone to talk to, someone who could knock some sense into him, or at the very least listen without judgment.

Sirius was out of the question. There was no way James could tell him what was going through his mind. Not when the things he wanted to say would surely get him hexed into oblivion. Sirius would kill him. No, he’d bury him. Probably alive.

James groaned, twisting into another dive as if the sheer physicality of flying could drown out the voice in his head. But it didn’t work. Not even close. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was the way Regulus had looked at him this morning. Deliberate. Heated. Biting his lip like he wanted James to lose control.

And James was teetering on the fucking edge. 

His fingers tightened on the broom handle, almost to the point of pain. A wicked part of him imagined marching straight back into the house and kissing Regulus senseless, consequences be damned. Merlin, he’d do it in front of Sirius at this point. 

James didn’t care anymore.

The thought was intoxicating, dangerous, and utterly impossible to shake. He pushed himself harder, speeding toward the horizon as if he could outstrip the desire clawing at his chest. But it was hopeless. His thoughts were relentless, refusing to let him go.

What would Regulus taste like? The question burned in his mind, vivid and undeniable. Sweet, probably. Warm, like honey on a summer day. His stomach tightened at the thought, his pulse quickening as he imagined what it would feel like to press his lips to Regulus’s. To hear the sound Regulus might make if he gave in. if he stopped teasing, stopped playing games, and let James pull him closer.

James’s teeth clenched as the air whipped around him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the night before, about the way Regulus had looked at him when James had invited him to sit on his lap. 

There was something there. Something deeper, something sharper. And if Sirius hadn’t interrupted… again. What might have happened? How far would it have gone? 

James cursed under his breath. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to let his imagination spiral further. But the memories wouldn’t leave him alone.

The way Regulus smirked. The way his lips curled like he knew exactly what he was doing. The way his gray eyes seemed to burn when they locked on James’s. The desperate little whimper he made when James had pulled his hair. 

I’ve done this to myself. 

James stayed in the sky, circling the grounds as though the steady rhythm of flying could keep him tethered. He knew if he went back inside now, he’d do something reckless. The rush of wind and the occasional chill as he soared higher weren’t enough to clear his head, but they at least kept him moving, kept him from giving in to the storm churning in his chest.

He’d never felt anything like this before. Not with Lily.

He’d pined after her for years—ached for her attention, made a fool of himself trying to impress her. He’d thought about her constantly, sure, and he’d wanted her. But it had never been like this.

Never this all-consuming, bone-deep need. With Regulus, it was something else entirely. More than desire. It was a visceral pull, an ache that spread through his body like fire, hot and relentless. It gripped him like a vice around his throat, making it hard to breathe whenever Regulus looked at him the way he had this morning. Seductive, teasing, with a knowing spark in those eyes.

James groaned, pulling his broom into a steep dive before leveling out again. He’s going to ruin me, he thought bitterly.

Regulus wasn’t just beautiful. Though Merlin, he was that, with those sharp, perfect features and that infuriating smirk that could bring James to his knees. He was sexy, smart, guarded, and utterly untouchable. He was a force, a puzzle that James couldn’t stop trying to solve, even when it felt impossible.

And yet, despite everything, James couldn’t stop thinking about how much Regulus had endured. The night he’d shown up at the doorstep, barely able to stand, covered in blood. It was seared into James’s memory like a brand.

His moms voice still echoed in his mind. “He’s been hit with the Cruciatus Curse.”

James’s stomach had lurched then, the words sinking into him like stones. Regulus’s own family. His own mother had hit him with dark magic, had reduced him to a trembling shadow of himself. And James knew for certain it wasn’t the first time.

His grip on the broom tightened, guilt gnawing at his insides. He should be focusing on that. On helping Regulus heal, on making sure he felt safe, on trying to get him to open up about everything he’d gone through in that house. Regulus hadn’t said much about it since he arrived, and James didn’t blame him. It wasn’t something you could just talk about, not when the wounds were so fresh.

But instead of focusing on that, on what really mattered, James couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop imagining what it would feel like to have him, to touch him, to kiss him until neither of them could breathe.

The shame burned in James’s stomach, bitter and unrelenting. It was selfish. He knew it was selfish. Regulus needed care, patience, understanding, not someone who couldn’t stop having wicked thoughts about him.

But no matter how much James tried to push the thoughts away, they refused to leave him alone. His feelings were overwhelming, spiraling out of control like the dive he was about to pull into.

He cursed under his breath, pulling up hard and veering back toward the sky.

And then, just as his mind threatened to spiral further, he heard something. 

“Oi, Potter! You going to come down, or should I wait for you to fall off that thing?”

James whipped around toward the sound, his heart jolting with relief at the sight of Remus standing below, hands cupped around his mouth as he shouted up at him.

“Thank fucking Merlin,” James muttered under his breath, angling his broom down toward the ground. He’d never been so happy to see Moony in his entire life.

James landed with a controlled swoop, but as he swung off his broom, his nerves were anything but steady. Remus stood waiting, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in that signature way of his that meant I already know you’ve done something stupid. Just spill it.

“Well?” Remus prompted before James could even speak, his tone dry. “What’s so urgent that you couldn’t just owl me back like a normal person?”

James ran a hand through his wind-tousled hair, groaning. “Merlin, Moony, you have no idea how glad I am you’re here.”

Remus’s expression softened slightly, his arms uncrossing as he tilted his head. “Is it Sirius? Regulus? What’s going on?”

“It’s—” James hesitated, staring down at his broomstick like it might give him the words he needed. It didn’t. With a heavy sigh, he leaned the broom against the house and gestured for Remus to follow him toward the far end of the garden, away from the house.

“Alright, Prongs, you’re worrying me,” Remus said as they walked. “What’s happened?”

James stopped near a bench tucked beneath a sprawling tree and sat heavily, elbows on his knees. Remus followed suit, waiting patiently as James gathered himself.

“It’s Regulus,” James finally said, voice low.

Remus blinked, then gave a small nod. “Alright. What about him?”

James groaned again, dropping his face into his hands. “Everything. He’s…he’s messing with my head, Moony. I don’t know what to do. I can’t think straight when I’m around him. I can’t sleep. And it’s not just because he’s…bloody gorgeous, though Merlin knows that’s part of it—”

Remus raised both eyebrows now, leaning back slightly. “Wait. Hold on. Are you telling me you—”

“Yes!” James interrupted, voice strained. “Yes, alright? I like him. I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s driving me mad!”

Remus stared at him for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he said, very calmly, “Does Sirius know?”

James let out a sharp laugh, leaning back on the bench. “Oh, he knows. But I can’t exactly talk to him about it, can I? What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Pads, did you know I can’t stop thinking about how Reggie—your baby brother—would feel sitting on my—’”

“Woah, calm down there, Prongs!” Remus cut him off, holding up both hands in exaggerated alarm.

James groaned, rubbing his face. “See? This is why I can’t talk to him.”

Remus stifled a laugh, poorly. 

“This isn’t funny,” James snapped, glaring at Remus, whose lips twitched like he was holding back a grin.

“No, it’s not,” Remus said quickly, his tone sobering. “Alright. Let’s focus. You like Regulus. You can’t stop thinking about him. What do you want me to do about it?”

James stared at him, exasperated. “I don’t know! Talk some sense into me? Tell me I’m not completely mental? Or at least help me figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do!”

Remus tilted his head, considering. “Well, for starters, does Regulus know how you feel?”

“Definitely. I’d be shocked if he didn’t,” James admitted, slumping forward again. “He’s not exactly subtle, either. But I can’t tell if he’s just messing with me or if he actually feels the same.”

Remus sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Alright. Then you need to take a step back and figure out what you actually want. Are you just infatuated, or is this something real? Because if it’s real, James, you can’t mess around with this. Regulus has been through hell. You can’t play games with him.”

“I know that,” James said quickly. “I’d never—this isn’t just some fling, Moony. I can’t explain it, but…it’s real. I know it is.”

Remus studied him for a long moment, his sharp gaze unwavering. “And Sirius? How’s he handling it?”

James winced. “He’s… surprisingly chill about it, actually. For now. But he doesn’t know everything. If he knew just how bad it is—what I want—” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

Remus gave him a sympathetic look. “Alright. Then you need to be careful. Take your time. Don’t push Regulus into anything he’s not ready for, and for Merlin’s sake, don’t give Sirius a reason to blow up until you’re absolutely sure about where this is going.”

“I know,” James said, his voice heavy. “Believe me, I know. But it’s just…I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t do something.”

Remus gave him a long, thoughtful look. “You’re not going to explode, mate. You just need to keep your head on straight. And maybe…talk to Regulus. See where he stands.”

James sighed, leaning back against the bench and rubbing his temples as if the motion could somehow sort his tangled thoughts. He glanced at Remus, who was watching him patiently, that steady gaze encouraging him to keep going.

“It’s been going on for weeks, Moony.” James admitted. “At first, I thought I was imagining it, but no. He’s doing it on purpose. I know he is.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What exactly is he doing?”

James let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, Merlin, where do I even start? He’s…testing me. Flirting with me, but in this maddening, deliberate way. It’s like he knows he’s got me wrapped around his bloody finger, and he’s enjoying every second of it.”

Remus smirked faintly. “Give me an example.”

James’s ears turned pink as he groaned, running both hands through his hair. “It’s the way he looks at me, Moony. Like…like he’s daring me to lose control. The way he says my name—he drags it out, low and soft, and I swear he knows exactly what it does to me. This morning in the kitchen, he looked at me like he was going to—”

James cut himself off, his face flaming as he stared at his lap.

“Like he was going to what?” Remus asked, biting back a grin.

James gestured wildly, unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t know! Kiss me? Hex me? Jump me? Something! I’m losing my mind over here.”

Remus laughed, clapping him on the back. “Sounds like he’s having way too much fun with you.”

James groaned again, letting his head thunk back against the tree. “I know! And it’s working. Every time I think I’ve got a grip on myself, he does something else, and I’m right back to square one.”

“Is there more?” Remus pressed, leaning in slightly.

James hesitated, his face turning even redder as he mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” Remus asked, his grin widening.

James groaned loudly. “Fine! Yes, there’s more, alright? But you can’t laugh, Moony.”

“No promises,” Remus said, crossing his arms.

James sighed, looking away as he began to speak. “It happened during a seeker’s game we were playing. I went after him, tackled him, and—well, we both crashed. He landed on top of me, and for a moment, we just…stayed there. He didn’t push off, didn’t even look mad. He just stared at me, and I swear we almost kissed.”

Remus’s eyebrow shot up. “Almost?”

“Yes!” James said, his voice raising in exasperation. “Sirius interrupted us. Of course. And I’m pretty sure he knows exactly what was about to happen, too.”

“Wait, hold on,” Remus said, his grin turning conspiratorial. “There's more? Isn’t there?”

James groaned and threw his head back against the tree again, rubbing his hands over his face. “Of course, there’s more. Last night—Merlin, last night.”

“Alright, now you have to tell me.”

James sighed, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, his fingers trembling slightly. He didn’t look at Remus, his voice low and frustrated. “Sirius and I were bickering about something stupid—don’t even ask me what. He left eventually, leaving just me and Reggie.” He trailed off, his hand falling to his lap.

Remus caught the way James’s hand trembled and frowned. “Damn, James, I’ve never seen you like this. You can tell me, come on.”

James exhaled sharply, letting out a nervous chuckle. “There was this moment. Regulus has this way of…getting the upper hand. And you know I hate losing.”

“I’m familiar,” Remus said dryly, prompting James to continue.

James hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek before pressing on. “We were talking—flirting, honestly. And he said something, and I could feel myself losing. So, I…I may have implied something.”

Remus’s eyebrows shot up. “Implied what, exactly?”

James shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet Remus’s eyes. “He told me I was ‘easy,’ and obviously, that hit my ego—“

Remus snorted, “Obviously.”

James glared at him but continued, “So I turned it around. Maybe I inquired if, since he seemed so focused on my lap, he wanted an…invitation.”

Remus let out a bark of laughter, clamping a hand over his mouth when James swatted at him.

“Sorry!” Remus wheezed, his shoulders still shaking with mirth. “But—wait, did he?”

James flushed a deep red and groaned. “There was a moment. A very intense moment. He didn’t move away, didn’t tell me to piss off or anything. It was like—Merlin, it was like he was daring me to do something. But then—”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Sirius?”

“Fucking Sirius!” James said, throwing his hands in the air. “He decided to make a disaster in our room—there was this loud crash, and it broke the moment completely. I hate him, Moony. I truly, utterly hate him.”

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like Reggie’s having as much fun with this as you are.”

James let out a frustrated groan. “Oh, he’s enjoying it alright. I’m dying, and he’s having the time of his life. I’ve tried, Moony. I’ve tried to have a serious talk with him, to say something real, but he makes it impossible.”

Remus’s tone shifted, more serious now. “What does he do?”

James flailed his hands around, clearly exasperated. “He’s just—he’s Regulus. The other day in the kitchen, I said something, and I swear to you, Moony—he lunged forward and grabbed my jaw. His fingers wrapped around my face, and he moved so close I thought—Merlin, I thought we were going to kiss. And then that fucking smirk he gave me—Gods, I was done for.”

Remus watched him for a long moment, his lips twitching like he was holding back a smile. “James, you’ve got it bad.”

“Don’t I know it,” James muttered miserably, dropping his head into his hands.

“It sounds like he’s toying with you, yeah,” Remus said, “but I don’t think he’s doing it to be cruel. He likes you. It’s obvious. But you need to talk to him, mate. Really talk to him—no flirting, no games. Just…be honest with him.”

James groaned, his voice muffled against his hands. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” Remus admitted. “But trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

James peeked at him through his fingers. “What if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “If the kitchen thing, the seeker’s game, and whatever happened last night weren’t clear enough, then I don’t know what is. But you won’t know for sure until you ask, will you?”

James sighed heavily, leaning back. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right.”

“I usually am,” Remus teased, clapping him on the shoulder.

James nodded slowly despite the persistent knot in his chest. “Thanks, Moony. I knew you’d have something sensible to say.”

Remus smiled faintly. “Always. Now, come on. Let’s head back before Sirius starts getting suspicious.”

“Not too fast,” James said, grabbing Remus’s arm as he began to walk away. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Remus stopped, eyebrows furrowing as he gave James a quizzical look. “What are you on about?”

James grinned, tugging him back. “Tell me how it was.”

“How what was?” Remus asked, tilting his head to the side, feigning innocence.

“Don’t be coy, Moony,” James laughed, eyes gleaming. “You kissed Sirius. Tell me everything.”

Remus’s face flamed immediately, his ears turning bright red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at James.

“Oh, come on, Remus.” James clapped him on the back, his grin widening. “You kissed him, didn’t you? Don’t deny it—I knew something was going on between you two. So spill!”

Remus groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before,” James teased. “Now, details!”

Remus hesitated, the blush on his cheeks deepening. “It wasn’t anything…special.”

James scoffed, crossing his arms. “Oh, please. I know Sirius, and if he’s involved, it’s definitely something special. Out with it!”

Remus sighed, giving in. “Fine. It was—good, alright? Brilliant, even. We were in the sitting room at night, just talking. It was quiet, and I…I don’t even know how it happened. One second we were laughing, and the next—”

“You were snogging!” James interrupted, his grin practically splitting his face.

Remus rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t like that, Prongs. It was…gentle. Sirius was being surprisingly sweet.”

James’s eyebrows shot up. “Sweet? Sirius?”

Remus shot him a look, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “Yes, Sirius. He can be terribly thoughtful, you know.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” James quipped, but his tone was light. “But I know you’re lying, or at least withholding something. Believe me, I talked to Sirius. I know you snogged.”

Remus rolled his eyes, his face still red as he avoided James gaze, “Alright, eventually. But it didn’t start like that.”

James grinned, “what else happened?” 

Remus shrugged, his expression softening. “Not much. We didn’t really talk about it—we just…sat there for a while. It was…good. Calm.”

James smirked, elbowing him. “You’re such a romantic, Moony. But seriously, I’m happy for you. You two are…well, you make sense.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a small smile. “You think so?”

“Course I do,” James said confidently. “You’re Moony and he’s Padfoot. A star and a moon. You’re practically a matched set. Besides, if anyone can keep Sirius in line, it’s you.”

Remus laughed, shaking his head. “Thanks, Prongs. I think.”

James threw an arm around his shoulders, steering him back toward the house. “Now let’s head back before Sirius burns the place down—or decides to make another scene. And don’t worry, I won’t bring this up in front of him. For now.”

“You’d better not,” Remus warned, but his tone was fond.

James and Remus stepped inside, shaking off the slight chill in the air. Sirius immediately perked up from his seat on the couch, his cheeks faintly pink as he greeted Remus with a slightly-too-bright, “There you are, Moons. Thought you’d left me to suffer alone with him.”

Regulus, who was again lounging elegantly on the opposite end of the couch, glanced up with an arched brow. “Your suffering, dear brother, is entirely self-inflicted.”

“Well, I feel better now that Moony’s here,” Sirius replied, ignoring Regulus entirely. His warm smile faltered only slightly when James clapped his hands together, his grin anything but innocent.

“Merlin’s beard, Padfoot, you’re practically wagging your tail. Keep it together.” James wiggled his eyebrows, making obnoxious smooching noises.

Sirius swatted him away with a pillow. “Oh, shut it, Prongs. Go snog my brother if you’re so obsessed with love stories.”

James shoved Sirius’s shoulder playfully, rolling his eyes as he grinned. “Why don't you go snog Remus and get your head out of your arse while you’re at it.” He shot back.

Sirius shot him a venomous look, but the smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him. A wicked glint sparked in his eyes as he pushed himself up from the couch, stretching languidly. “Best idea you’ve had all day, Prongs.”

Before James could even react, Sirius crossed the room in two strides, grabbed Remus by the arm, and yanked him off the couch with surprising force. Remus, looking mildly startled, didn’t resist, though the faint blush creeping up his neck suggested he wasn’t entirely opposed either. 

“What are you—” Remus started, but Sirius was already pulling him toward the stairs.

James burst into laughter at the scene, he leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms, and looked over at Regulus, who was staring at the two of them with an exasperated sigh.

“You guys are something else,” Regulus remarked dryly, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

James smirked. “We do have a tendency to be dramatic.”

Regulus’s gaze narrowed, and for a moment, James wondered if he was about to get a lecture on the subject. But Regulus merely sighed, sinking back into the couch with a relaxed posture. “Maybe, but at least you keep things interesting.”

James nodded, still chuckling under his breath as he thought about the chaos Sirius had just unleashed on Remus. “That’s one way to put it.” His grin widened, but there was a hint of fondness behind it, something that wasn’t lost on Regulus, who raised an eyebrow.

James stretched his legs out in front of him, the quiet tension in the air still lingering like a soft hum between them. Regulus hadn’t moved, hadn’t broken eye contact, his gaze as steady and expectant as ever. It was like he was waiting for James to play into whatever unspoken game was hanging between them. Waiting for him to flirt, to tease, to make something of this moment. But instead, James just… was. He just sat there, quiet for a moment longer, before he broke the silence, as casually as ever.

“What did you and Lupin talk about?” Regulus asked, his voice low, the corners of his lips curving slightly as if daring James to make this interesting.

James smiled back at him, warm and easy, but there was something more in the way he looked at Regulus—something that didn’t match the usual flippant charm. “You,” he said, his voice soft but clear.

Regulus’s brow arched slightly, his interest piqued. “All good things, I hope?”

James let out a laugh, “Trust me,” he said, a teasing edge in his tone, “Moony got a glowing review of you.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Details, Potter?”

James grinned, the shift in his demeanor making his words light, but there was something more sincere beneath the playfulness. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Reggie?”

Regulus raised a brow but said nothing. 

The air between them felt charged, but James wasn’t about to lean into it the way Regulus expected. Instead, he let the moment settle, his smile fading into something a little more serious. His expression softened, the glint in his eyes dimming slightly as he met Regulus’s gaze fully, more intense now, his voice low but steady.

“Just so you know, Reg,” James said, his tone shifting, the playful teasing now replaced by something far more earnest. “What I said the other day, about not playing around. I meant it.”

Regulus’s gaze sharpened, something in the way James spoke drawing his full attention. He tilted his head slightly, the air between them thickening, like the words James was about to say mattered more than anything they’d said before.

“I know we’ve been…” James paused, gesturing vaguely with his hands, as though searching for the right words, “pushing each other a bit. Testing boundaries. And I’m enjoying it—more than I probably should.” He swallowed, his gaze flickering down for a moment before returning to Regulus, his voice quieter now. “But it’s not just a game, Regulus.”

Regulus stared at him, a flicker of something in his chest at the seriousness in James’s eyes. He could feel it, how the air around them seemed to still, the usual banter and distance gone, replaced by something that was undeniably real. James wasn’t joking anymore. He wasn’t playing at anything.

Regulus’s heart picked up a little, something tight and complicated winding in his chest. He’d known this was coming. They both had. The way they’d been circling each other, toying with the edge of something that neither of them had dared cross until now. Regulus had felt it, the slow, steady pull that had only grown stronger the longer they’d spent together. But hearing James say it, hearing him lay it out like this, made it all the more real.

He didn’t answer immediately, instead taking a long, steady breath, his gaze fixed on James as he processed the sincerity in his eyes. There was a flicker of doubt there—Regulus couldn’t help it. It wasn’t about James’s words, but about how real this was going to be. How it was inevitable. He wasn’t sure he was ready for it, but then again, it had never been a matter of being ready. It was just… something that had been waiting to happen.

And Merlin, the way James was looking at him now, the weight of his words, made Regulus want to kiss him. It wasn’t just the challenge anymore. It was more than that. It was that undeniable thing between them, that magnetic pull that neither of them could seem to resist.

“I know, James,” Regulus finally said, his voice quieter now, but there was no hesitation in it. No more teasing. No more games. Just the truth, raw and unfiltered.

There was a pause after Regulus’s quiet admission, a brief, charged silence that stretched just long enough to make James’s chest feel tight. For all the weight of what they’d just said, neither of them moved. 

James swallowed hard, his gaze flicking to the cup in Regulus’s lap, then back to his face, unsure of what to do with this moment.

Regulus, as always, was the first to break the tension. 

Leaning forward, his sharp eyes dragging deliberately down James’s body in a way that felt more purposeful than casual. His lips quirked at the corner, and when he spoke, his voice was smooth and low, carrying an edge of wickedness that James felt in his bones.

“Let’s not remain so serious, yeah?” Regulus said, his tone light but layered with something more. He ran his tongue slowly across his bottom lip, tilting his head slightly as if appraising James like a challenge. “I enjoy our little games too, Potter.”

James blinked, his chest tightening all over again. It was as if all the air in the room had shifted, and he couldn’t quite regain his footing. Regulus had a way of doing this, pulling the rug out from under him, keeping him off balance. James’s hand twitched on his thigh, his fingers curling into the fabric of his trousers as he fought to stay in control of himself.

James cleared his throat, his voice coming out rougher than he’d intended.

“The way you look at me, Reg…” he trailed off, his words catching as Regulus’s gaze dipped again, this time slower. It was like being stripped bare under that stare, like Regulus knew exactly what he was doing to him. His heart stuttered, and he swore he could feel the heat rising in his face as he managed to push out the rest of his thoughts. “Fuck—it’s too much sometimes.”

Regulus didn’t look away, didn’t even blink. His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, one that was far too confident for James’s liking, not that he could look away from it. The flicker of amusement in Regulus’s expression was sharp, edged with something that made James’s skin feel too warm.

“I could say the same for you,” Regulus murmured, his voice quiet, but every word was like a spark, igniting the space between them. He shifted again, his posture languid but purposeful, and James’s fingers dug deeper into his thigh, trying to ground himself, trying not to lean into the pull that Regulus seemed to have over him.

It wasn’t working.

                  *    ~    *     ~    *

Remus sat cross-legged on the bed, his fingers loosely fiddling with the edge of the blanket draped across his lap. Sirius was sprawled out beside him, his head propped up on one hand, his grin wide and self-satisfied as he watched Remus with an expression that could only be described as smitten.

“Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to say something clever?” Remus asked, his tone teasing but his lips twitching with a smile.

Sirius chuckled, shifting closer until their knees bumped. “Oh, I’m full of clever things to say, but I’d rather just enjoy the view.” He tilted his head, his dark hair falling messily across his face as he smirked. “You can’t blame me for being mesmerized, Moony. It’s your fault for looking like that.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a faint flush creeping up his neck, something Sirius didn’t miss.

As Sirius shifted, his shirt rode up just enough to reveal the edge of his hip tattoo, a crescent moon wrapped in delicate vines, with a small, bright star nestled in the curve. It caught the light for just a moment, drawing Remus’s attention like it always did.

He’d seen it so many times before, been there the night Sirius got it, his hand gripping Sirius’s as the tattoo artist worked. But every time Remus saw it, it pulled at something deep inside him, an ache he felt to his bones.

That moon was him. Sirius had told him so without hesitation.

His fingers twitched where they rested on the blanket, his gaze lingering a second too long before he tore it away. “Subtlety really isn’t your strong suit,” Remus said, his voice a little quieter, a little rougher.

“Not when it comes to you,” Sirius replied, and there was something softer in his tone now, something that made Remus pause. Sirius shifted again, this time leaning back against the headboard, his hand brushing against Remus’s in a way that felt deliberate.

Remus glanced at Sirius out of the corner of his eye, and Sirius, for once, wasn’t grinning. His expression was thoughtful, his usual mischief dimmed but not entirely gone.

“You know,” Sirius said finally, his voice low, “I wasn’t joking earlier. It’s better with you here.”

Remus tilted his head, his brows furrowing slightly. “Better how?”

“Just…better,” Sirius said, his gaze flicking down for a moment before meeting Remus’s again. “You make things feel less…chaotic.”

Remus didn’t respond immediately, instead letting the words settle between them. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more careful. “I didn’t realize I had that kind of effect on you.”

“You’ve always had that effect on me,” Sirius said, and this time there was no teasing, no smirk. Just Sirius, looking at Remus like he was the only steady thing in a spinning world.

Remus swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on Sirius. That quiet intensity, the way Sirius’s dark eyes were so calculated and unwavering, like he’d planned every move in their silent dance, made it impossible for Remus to think straight.

Sirius was something else entirely, bold and relentless, his charm unguarded and so achingly sincere that it felt like a trap you wanted to fall into. And Merlin, Remus had been falling for years. 

“Merlin, Sirius, stop looking at me like that,” he muttered, his voice strained, but his body betrayed him. His pulse was racing, his chest tightening. Sirius tilted his head, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips as though he knew exactly what he was doing. Of course he did.

“Like what, Moons?” Sirius asked, his voice soft and teasing, but there was something deeper there, something that made Remus’s resolve crumble.

And then, without another word, Remus gave in. He surged forward, his hand tangling in Sirius’s dark hair as he pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t hesitant or shy. It was real, proper, charged with the weight of everything they’d left unsaid. Sirius’s lips were soft, warm, and he melted against Remus almost instantly, surrendering to the kiss with a quiet, breathless sound that went straight to Remus’s chest.

Sirius’ hands moved instinctively, one grabbing his jaw, the other gripping his arm as though grounding himself. He parted his lips for Remus without hesitation, leaning into the kiss with all the eagerness of someone who’d been waiting far too long for it.

Remus didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. The taste of Sirius, the way he felt pliant and open beneath him, sent a rush of heat through his body. He pushed forward, crawling over Sirius with a deliberate slowness, sliding between his thighs easily as he deepened the kiss. Sirius shifted to accommodate him, tilting his head back as Remus kissed him harder, taking charge in a way that made Sirius shiver beneath him.

Sirius responded in kind, his hands gripping at Remus’s waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of his jumper like he was afraid to let go. He sighed into the kiss, his body arching slightly beneath Remus’s weight, and it was perfect—too perfect, really. Sirius didn’t fight for control, didn’t push or tease. He just let Remus take over, let him guide the moment, and there was something about that trust, that surrender, that sent a thrill racing down Remus’s spine.

The kiss grew deeper, hungrier, and Remus couldn’t stop himself from tilting Sirius’s head back, angling him just right as he licked into his mouth. Sirius moaned softly, the sound muffled but unmistakable, and it made Remus’s heart skip. He could feel Sirius’s pulse racing beneath his fingertips, could feel the heat of his body pressing up against him, and it was all so much. So intoxicating. So Consuming. 

Sirius’s hands slid up, his fingers brushing against the back of Remus’s neck, pulling him closer, anchoring him. His lips were swollen and red, his hair a wild mess beneath Remus’s hands, but he looked up at him with those soft, adoring eyes, and it was almost enough to undo him entirely.

“You’re…” Sirius started, his voice low and breathless, but he couldn’t seem to find the words. His thumb brushed against the side of Remus’s neck, his touch so gentle it made Remus’s chest ache. “You’re amazing at this.”

Remus huffed a soft laugh, his forehead dropping to rest against Sirius’s as he tried to catch his breath. “You’ve got a way of making a bloke lose control,” he muttered, his voice still rough, his lips grazing Sirius’s with every word.

Sirius’s laugh was breathless, his head tipping back to meet Remus’s eyes. “Good,” he murmured, his voice rough but steady. “Because you’ve claimed me, Moony. Completely.”

Remus couldn’t help but grin at that, his heart thundering as he leaned back down, his lips finding Sirius’s once more. And this time, Sirius pulled him closer, his grip firm and unyielding, like he’d never let go.

                  *    ~    *    ~    *

“So, you actually bottled it,” James said, breaking the silence. His voice came out a little quieter than usual, but he was genuinely curious. “The potion, I mean.”

Regulus glanced over at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I did,” he replied nonchalantly, but his eyes gleamed with a hint of pride. “Took me longer than I expected, but it’s ready.”

James shifted slightly, leaning forward just enough that his elbows rested on his knees. “And it turned out well?” He couldn’t quite hide the thread of hope in his voice, or the way his eyes were trained on Regulus, like he was waiting for confirmation that something had gone right.

Regulus turned to face him fully then, the weight of his gaze making James feel suddenly aware of every inch of the room between them. The smile on Regulus’s face softened, his expression almost…warm.

“It’s perfect,” he said, his voice quiet but assured. “Tastes better than I expected too.”

James felt his heart do that thing again. It was tight and fluttery deep in his chest, a feeling he couldn’t quite put into words. He shifted slightly, unable to tear his gaze away from Regulus’s face, the way the dim light from the fire cast soft shadows over his sharp features. There was something magnetic about him, something James couldn’t resist.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to break the gaze, his eyes flicking down to the floor. “Good to know,” he murmured, though his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. His voice was a bit strained, like he was trying to focus on anything other than the soft curve of Regulus’s lips or the way his black hair fell messily across his forehead.

The tension in the living room lingered as Regulus stood, setting his cup aside. He glanced down at James, one brow arched slightly, as if daring him. “Want to see it?” he asked, his voice light, but there was a challenge hidden in his tone.

James hesitated for half a second, then pushed himself up from the couch. “Lead the way,” he said, his heart kicking up slightly as Regulus smirked and turned toward the hallway.

No matter how hard he tried, James simply couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. As he walked a step behind Regulus, his gaze was all but glued to the sway of his hips, the curve of his arse, the way his trousers clung to his long, elegant thighs. It was maddening, almost unfair, how effortlessly perfect he looked. 

Every step, every subtle movement seemed intentional, though James knew it wasn’t. Regulus didn’t have to try. He just existed, utterly unreal, and James couldn’t stop gawking. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on something else, but his traitorous eyes kept flickering back, drawn like a moth to a funeral pyre. 

They walked in silence, the only sound the faint creak of floorboards beneath their feet. Regulus led him to the small workshop.

James glanced around, forcing his thoughts back into line, but when Regulus turned to look at him with an arched brow and that faint, knowing smirk, James’s stomach did a little flip. Damn it.

The work table was lined with vials and jars, each labeled in Regulus’s precise handwriting.

Regulus picked one up, holding it delicately between his fingers, and tilted it so the light caught the subtle swirl of color inside. “This is it,” he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet pride that made James’s chest ache.

James stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the bottle, but they kept straying to Regulus instead—the way his long fingers held the glass, the faint curve of his lips as he spoke.

“You’re good at this,” James said, his voice sincere.

Regulus looked up at him then, his expression briefly surprised before it softened. “I know,” he said simply, but there was no arrogance in his tone, just quiet confidence.

He set the bottle down and gestured for James to come closer. “Here,” he said. “Look.”

James leaned in as Regulus pointed to the swirling liquid inside. “It’s stabilized now,” Regulus explained, his voice low but steady. “Took ages to get the consistency right. If you tilt it, you’ll see how it refracts—like this.”

James watched, but he wasn’t really paying attention to the potion. His focus drifted to the sound of Regulus’s voice, the way it was soft but carried a quiet intensity, like he spoke only for James to hear.

“Are you following along, Jamie?” Regulus asked after a moment, his tone laced with amusement.

James blinked, caught off guard, and his ears burned at the realization he’d been staring. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course,” he said, a little too quickly.

Regulus tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”

James let out a breathless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Caught me.”

Regulus didn’t press him further, but the look in his eyes lingered, sharp and knowing. He picked up the bottle again, turning it over in his hands. “You’re distracted,” he said casually, like it wasn’t already obvious.

James hesitated, his gaze fixed on Regulus. “Maybe,” he admitted softly. His chest felt tight, like there was too much he wanted to say and not enough words to say it.

Regulus didn’t look up this time, his attention still on the bottle. “You should focus,” he murmured. “This is important.”

James swallowed hard, forcing himself to tear his gaze away. “Right. Focus.” 

But all he could think about was how real everything felt, how this pull toward Regulus wasn’t just some passing crush. It was deeper, heavier, something he didn’t quite know how to name.

Regulus kept talking about the potion as if nothing was amiss, his voice smooth and measured. 

He stepped closer than necessary as he pointed to the bubbling vial, his arm brushing against James’s. He moved around James deliberately, making sure their bodies grazed, just light enough to send sparks up James’s spine.

At one point, he crouched down to pick up a jar he’d “accidentally” knocked off the table, bending in a way that left James swallowing hard, his throat bobbing noticeably. Regulus smirked to himself as he straightened, deliberately stretching as he did so, and turned to glance at James with feigned obliviousness.

James was trying, really trying, to follow Remus’s advice, to keep things light, to not push Regulus. But Regulus was making it damn near impossible.

Regulus turned back to the desk, his fingers brushing against James’s hand as he reached for a tool. James stiffened slightly, the muscles in his jaw working as he gripped the edge of the table like it was the only thing tethering him to his sanity.

“Understand, Jamie?” Regulus asked, his voice laced with teasing as he glanced at James over his shoulder.

James forced a strained laugh, his grip tightening. “Yeah, understand,” he said, though his voice wavered, his gaze glued to the elegant curve of Regulus’s neck where his shirt collar dipped slightly. He hadn’t heard a single thing he had said. Truly. 

His mind was much too messy to think about anything other than pressing Regulus against the desk and coaxing all kinds of pretty noises from his throat. 

Regulus smirked. Endearing, he thought, then he decided to push a little further. He moved to stand directly in front of James, ostensibly to adjust one the jarred ingredients, but as he leaned forward, his arse brushed against James' crotch in a way that was entirely too deliberate to be accidental.

James’s breath hitched. His hand shot out instinctively, grabbing Regulus’s hip and pulling him back, holding him in place before his brain could catch up to his actions.

“Reg,” James rasped, his voice low and rough, a desperate edge to it.

Regulus turned slightly, tilting his head to meet James’s gaze, his smirk softening into something more genuine, more knowing. He didn’t pull away.

And then James’s control deteriorated into nothing. 

He pressed forward, his hips moving like he couldn’t stop himself, and the contact drew a ragged sound from deep in his throat. His fingers dug into Regulus’s hip, anchoring him as he pressed their bodies together.

“Fuck,” James hissed, his breath hot and uneven. “You’re goddamn impossible. You know that?”

Regulus smiled, slow and wicked, but there was a warmth in his expression that betrayed the teasing edge. “I am?” 

James groaned, his other hand tangling into Regulus’s hair, his grip firm but careful. “I only have so much willpower, Reggie. So much self-control,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned closer, his lips brushing Regulus’s ear. “And it’s wearing by the fucking second.”

Regulus’s breath caught, and before he could respond, James rolled his hips forward again, eliciting a quiet, broken sound from Regulus that sent a shiver down James’s spine. He wanted so much fucking more. 

Wanted to hear Regulus gasp, moan and fucking cry. Wanted to see him tremble and shake as his nails dragged down James’ back as delicious sounds spilled from those pretty fucking lips. 

“Merlin,” James breathed, his hand tightening in Regulus’s hair, tilting his head back more to expose the pale column of his perfect throat. “You drive me absolutely mad.”

“Is that right, Potter?” Regulus managed, his voice still tinged with teasing, though it cracked slightly under the weight of James’s proximity.

James didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his fingers tightened on Regulus’s hip, pulling him impossibly closer. 

“Don’t,” James said, his voice like gravel, tugging sharply at the back of Regulus’s hair again. Earning just the prettiest noise from him. James’s lips hovered just above his skin. “Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Regulus’s lips parted, but before he could retort, James rocked his hips forward again, slower this time, deliberate. Making sure Regulus could feel every inch of what he’d done to him. A sharp gasp escaped Regulus’s lips, and his hands shot up instinctively, gripping the table for balance.

“James,” Regulus breathed, his tone faltering.

“Fuck, Reggie,” James murmured, his mouth brushing so close to Regulus’s throat that it was almost unbearable. “You’ve been testing me all bloody week, haven’t you? Bending over like that, brushing against me—” He groaned, his hips stuttering forward again, chasing the pressure, “—how the fuck am I supposed to keep my composure when you’re like this?”

Regulus’s nails dug into the wood, and his head tipped forward as he tried to catch his breath. His teasing edge was gone, replaced with something rawer, hungrier.

“And if I don’t want you to?” Regulus whispered, his voice shaking just slightly. His lips curved into a faint smile, but it was no longer calculated, it was breathless, wrecked, and entirely too real.

James almost broke. His grip on Regulus’s hip tightened to the point of pain. The world narrowed down to the press of Regulus’s back against his chest, the deliberate way he shifted his hips back, every movement testing James’s resolve. He nearly turns Regulus around, nearly pins him to the table, nearly kisses him senseless.

Nearly.

But then a sharp voice slices through the tension, cutting the heated moment like a cold gust of wind.

“Boys! Lunch is ready!” Euphemia’s voice echoes cheerfully from the dining room, entirely unaware of the storm brewing in the workshop.

James groaned, his forehead tipping forward until it brushes the back of Regulus’s neck. One hand is still firm on Regulus’s hip, the other tangled in his dark hair.

His fingers flex against his hip before releasing, but his grip in Regulus’s hair only tightened as he leaned closer, his breath hot against Regulus’s ear. His voice drops to a gravelly whisper, every word dripping with restrained intensity.

“I’m not done with you yet, Reggie.”

Then, with a surge of reckless desire, James’s teeth graze the tender skin under his ear. The sound that escapes Regulus, a sharp, breathy whine hits James like a lightning bolt, searing through every last shred of restraint he has left.

James’s breath stutters against Regulus’s neck as his body aches to close the gap between them entirely.

Regulus shivers, his knees feeling weak, and James smirks against his skin, pleased with the effect he’s having. But then he curses under his breath, pulling himself back abruptly like a man yanked out of a dream.

He takes a deliberate step away, dragging his hands down his face as if trying to physically push away the thoughts pounding through his head. 

“Merlin.” He mutters to no one in particular, his voice strained as he strides out of the room without a backward glance.

Regulus remains where he is, utterly breathless, his legs unsteady as he grips the edge of the table for support. His head tips forward, the heat of the moment still coursing through him, leaving him flushed and wrecked in the best possible way.

                  *    ~    *    ~    *

Sirius is sprawled on one side of the couch, Remus tucked comfortably against his side, the two of them sharing a blanket as they halfheartedly participate in the Exploding Snap game happening on the floor. James and Regulus sit on opposite sides of the low table, their legs stretched out. Somewhere along the way, their feet began to casually touch under the table. Not quite deliberate but neither of them moved. 

“Alright, Sirius, your turn,” James says, leaning back against the armchair behind him, a lazy smirk curling his lips.

“Pass,” Sirius drawls, waving a hand dismissively as he nuzzles into Remus’s shoulder. “I’m more invested in—”

“—doing absolutely nothing while we play,” Remus finishes for him.

“Exactly.”

James shakes his head, picking up the cards Sirius discarded, his smirk growing mischievous. “Speaking of Sirius doing things, I couldn’t help but notice the marks on your neck earlier. Should I be worried?”

Sirius raises a brow, his grin widening as he leans back smugly. “Jealous, Potter? Don’t worry, there’s plenty of me to go around.”

James barks out a laugh. “Jealous? No. Grossed out? Absolutely. I need to disinfect that entire room. It’s bad enough you already stole it from me.”

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Sirius shoots back, his tone smug. “I’m doing you a favor. If anyone should be thanking me, it’s Remus. Right, Moony?”

Remus rolls his eyes but smiles faintly, his fingers idly tracing patterns on Sirius’s arm. “You know you’re terrible, right?”

“You love me,” Sirius quips, his grin devilish as he tilts his head back to press a kiss to Remus’s temple.

“Merlin, you two are disgusting,” James says, making a show of shuffling the cards while his foot nudges Regulus’s under the table.

“Better disgusting than pining,” Sirius fires back, shooting James a pointed look.

James doesn’t take the bait, though his smirk falters for a fraction of a second. Regulus, seated quietly beside him, shifts slightly, the movement enough for their feet to press more firmly together. James’s gaze flickers toward him briefly, the corners of his lips twitching upward before he focuses back on the cards.

Regulus arches a brow, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at his lips. “You seem awfully preoccupied with Sirius’s love life, James,” he murmurs, his tone light but cutting.

“Only because it’s impossible to escape,” James replies smoothly, shooting Sirius a playful glare. “You’d think sharing a room would come with some basic boundaries.”

“Oh, there are boundaries,” Sirius says, unbothered. “You’re just not invited to cross them.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” James mutters. “I’d sooner hex myself than get caught in whatever horrifying display you two call affection.”

James leans back, his hand brushing against Regulus’s where it rests on the edge of the table. It’s subtle, fleeting, but Regulus notices. He doesn’t pull away.

Sirius, ever the instigator, doesn’t miss the exchange. “So, Reg,” he says, his grin sly as he leans forward slightly. “How’s it been staying here? Enjoying the hospitality?”

Regulus hesitates, his usual sharpness softening for a moment. He glances toward James, who meets his gaze briefly before looking away, uncharacteristically quiet. “It’s… tolerable,” he says finally, his tone dry but lacking its usual bite.

James snorts, hiding his grin behind his hand. “High praise coming from you.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Regulus replies smoothly, his lips curving into a faint smirk as he nudges James’s foot under the table again.

The smirk is fleeting, but it sends warmth through James’s chest all the same. He clears his throat, glancing at the cards in his hand. “You’re up, Reggie. Let’s see if you can manage not to explode this time.”

Regulus raises a sharp brow. “Unlike you, I actually employ strategy.”

“Strategy?” James laughs, leaning forward with a mocking expression. “You’ve blown yourself up twice already.”

“Calculated risks,” Regulus replies coolly, placing a card down with deliberate precision. “Something you wouldn’t understand, Potter.”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I’m an excellent strategist. Top-tier, really.”

Sirius snorts loudly from the couch, where he’s half-curled into Remus. “You can barely strategize your way out of a broom closet, Prongs.”

James shoots him a look. “This coming from the guy whose grand strategy is ‘wing it and hope for the best.’”

“And it works,” Sirius says, draping an arm over Remus’s shoulders. “Doesn’t it, Moony?”

Remus sighs, shaking his head but smiling. “Somehow,” he admits, his tone dry.

“See?” Sirius grins triumphantly, leaning into Remus. “My methods are flawless.”

James rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the game. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Pads.” Then, with a sudden thought, he smirks. “Speaking of which—Remus, are you staying over tonight? Do I need to sleep on the couch to avoid any… traumatic experiences?”

Remus blinks at him, unimpressed. “If anyone’s going to be traumatized tonight, it’ll probably be me,” he deadpans.

Regulus snickers softly, and Sirius bursts out laughing. “Too right,” Sirius says, leaning his head back against the couch as he grins at Remus. “You’ve been dealing with me for years. I don’t know how you manage it.”

“Me neither.”

The conversation drifts into easy banter, Sirius and Remus teasing each other while Regulus and James continue their game. Sirius shifts his attention subtly, his gaze landing on his younger brother.

Regulus is as composed as always, his expression calm and unreadable, but Sirius notices the subtle tells that others might miss. The way Regulus’s lips twitch faintly when James says something ridiculous. The way his gaze lingers on James a fraction longer than necessary. And when their eyes meet, when James looks at him with that boyish grin, there’s something almost imperceptible in Regulus’s expression that softens, slows.

Sirius isn’t sure what to make of it.

He doesn’t think they’ve done anything yet… not really. As far as he knows, it’s all flirting and lingering glances, maybe a few touches that could be written off as accidental. But watching them now, Sirius feels like there’s more beneath the surface.

It doesn’t upset him, not exactly. He’s not mad. But there’s a faint sting of hurt that James hasn’t said much to him about it. They told each other everything. Maybe James doesn’t know how to bring it up. Or maybe he’s just nervous.

Not that Sirius wants to know all the details. Merlin, no. He shudders at the thought, tuning back into the conversation just as Regulus sets a card down with a faint smirk.

“Checkmate,” Regulus says smoothly.

James stares at the table, visibly confused. “What?”

“That’s chess, Reggie.” Sirius pointed out. 

“I’m aware,” Regulus says, his tone clipped but faintly amused. “The point stands. James is terrible at this.”

“Excuse me!” James gasped, wide eyed. “I’ll have you know, I’m an Exploding Snap champion.”

“Of course you are,” Regulus replies dryly, his eyes glittering. “In the same way Sirius is a champion at everything he’s never practiced.”

“Oi!” Sirius protests from the couch.

Regulus ignores him, keeping his attention on James. “I’ve never seen someone lose with such enthusiasm. It’s almost impressive.”

“It’s strategy,” James says, his voice warm and teasing as he points at Regulus. “I’m lulling you into a false sense of security. You’ll see.”

“Will I?” Regulus arches a brow, his lips twitching again.

“You will,” James insists. “And then I’ll make a spectacular comeback, and you’ll finally admit I’m brilliant.”

“That sounds unlikely.”

Sirius glances between them, his brows furrowing slightly. James is grinning like an idiot, leaning closer to Regulus in a way that Sirius knows isn’t entirely casual. Regulus, for his part, is still sharp-tongued and composed, but there’s a lightness in his expression that Sirius hasn’t seen in years.

For now, he leans back against Remus, pulling the blanket up higher. “If James starts winning spectacularly,” he mutters, “I’m blaming you, Moony, for distracting me.”

“I’ll take full responsibility,” Remus replies with a small laugh, moving his arm around Sirius’ shoulders.

“Oh, you better,” Sirius replies, “The things I’ve had to endure, living with Prongs and his absolutely hopeless ‘strategies’.”

James snorts, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Hopeless? I don’t recall asking for commentary from the peanut gallery.”

Sirius smirks, but his gaze shifts to James, “Hopeless, yes. Utterly starry-eyed? Even more so. I’ve never seen you quite like this, Prongs.” He clasps a hand over his chest with mock sincerity. “It’s almost touching. Almost.”

James glares at him, color rising in his cheeks. “What are you on about now?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Sirius continues, his smirk widening. “The way you look at Reggie? Like he hung the stars in the sky just for you. It’s honestly nauseating.” He adopts a high, imperious tone, his impression of Regulus nearly flawless. “‘It’s tolerable, Potter.’” He tosses his hair for effect, tilting his chin in a perfect mimicry of Regulus’s disdainful expression.

James groans, burying his face in his hands. “Merlin’s sake.”

Regulus, who had been quietly watching the exchange with mild amusement, raises an eyebrow. “Remarkably accurate,” he says, his voice as dry as ever.

James peeks through his fingers, fixing Sirius with a pointed look. “You’re one to talk about being nauseating. You and Remus don’t exactly keep a low profile.”

Sirius gasps, leaning back against the couch as though James had struck him. “Excuse me? How dare you?”

“Dare I?” James says, sitting up straighter, his grin turning sly. “Remus doesn’t even have to try with you. You’re so easy, Pads.”

“Are you calling me a slag, Potter?”

James shrugs, his grin widening. “Well, I ain’t calling you a saint.”

Regulus hides his smirk behind his hand, and Remus chuckles, leaning into Sirius. 

“He’s got a point,” Remus murmurs, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, you too?” Sirius turns to Remus with an exaggerated look of betrayal. “Unbelievable. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I’m always on your side,” Remus replies, his tone warm and unbothered. “But he’s still right.”

Sirius groans loudly, flopping back against the couch like a wounded animal. “The injustice I face in this house,” he declares, staring up at the ceiling as though pleading for divine intervention. “No one respects me.”

James grins. “That’s because you make it too easy.”

Sirius sits up suddenly, pointing at James with mock indignation. “And you, you’re absolutely pathetic, mate. Completely gone for my baby brother. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He presses the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. “James Potter, brought to his knees by Regulus Black of all people. What is the world coming to?”

James rolls his eyes but feels the heat creeping up his neck. “I truly do hate you, you know. Despise even.”

“You can’t live without me,” Sirius quips, flashing a toothy grin. “Admit it, Prongs. Reggie’s got you all tied up in knots. He so much as looks at you, and you’re done for.”

“Not true,” James argues, though his voice lacks conviction.

“It’s entirely true,” Sirius retorts. He leans forward conspiratorially, his grin turning wicked. “Tell me, do you get all flustered when he calls you ‘Jamie’? Or is it when he gives you that little smirk? You know the one.”

James groans again, covering his face with both hands.

Sirius mimics Regulus again, this time with an exaggerated smirk and a perfectly clipped tone. “‘Potter, you’re terrible at this.’”

“Honestly,” James mutters, shaking his head as he tries to suppress a grin.

“You’re only proving his point, you know,” Regulus says smoothly, his voice calm but laced with amusement.

That catches James off guard, and he glances at Regulus, who’s looking at him with that faint, knowing smile that always leaves James feeling slightly unsteady.

“See?!” Sirius exclaims, gesturing wildly toward them. “Look at that! That right there!”

“That right there, what?” James says, feigning innocence, though he knows exactly what Sirius means.

“The look!” Sirius groans. “You’re both hopeless. I can’t take it.”

“Oh, because you’re so much better?” James fires back. “What was it you said to Remus the other day? Something about how he ‘smells like autumn and moonlight’? Real subtle, Pads.”

Sirius gapes, his face going red as Remus bursts out laughing. “I said that in private!” Sirius protests.

“I was literally right there!”

Regulus watches the exchange with an arched brow, his lips twitching again as he exchanges an amused glance with Remus.

Sirius throws a cushion at James, who catches it with ease. “You’re a menace, Potter.”

“And you’re a slag,” James replied cheerfully, tossing the cushion back.

“Oi!” Sirius grabs the pillow and hurls it again, this time aiming for James’s head.

James ducks just in time, the pillow sailing harmlessly past him. “Terrible throw, mate,” he says, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “What happened to all that Quidditch training?”

Sirius rolls his eyes, grumbling under his breath as he flops back against the couch, his head landing dramatically on Remus’s shoulder. “You lot are awful,” he declares, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Regulus, who had been watching the exchange with a faintly amused expression, leans forward slightly. “Try putting up with you,” he says smoothly, his tone just this side of sharp.

Sirius narrows his eyes. “Actually, I have to put up with myself all the time, and if you ask me, I think I’m rather good company.”

“Well, you’re the only one,” Regulus quips, not missing a beat.

Remus snorts into his hand, and James doubles over with laughter.

Sirius sits up, pointing a finger at Regulus with mock outrage. “Says the broodiest one of all! You practically invented sulking, Reg.”

Regulus raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “Someone in the family has to make up for your overexuberance,” he retorts, cool and sharp, his lips twitching at the edges.

James laughs, kicking Sirius’s ankle under the table. “He’s got you there, Pads.”

Sirius glares between them. “Sod off, Reg. Turn your attention back to making James squirm. It’s much more entertaining.”

James straightens, throwing his hands in the air. “Remus, control him, would you? We all know you’re the one in charge around here.”

Remus raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a sly grin. “Oh, I don’t know,” he says lightly. “I think he’s rather charming when he’s like this.”

“Thank you,” Sirius says, turning his nose up at James triumphantly.

“Charming like a rabid hippogriff,” Regulus mutters under his breath, earning a laugh from James.

“You didn’t deny it,” James says with a teasing grin aimed at Sirius. “Remus really does have you in line, doesn’t he?”

Sirius’s face goes slightly red at the implication. He shoots back quickly, “Like Reggie doesn’t have you trailing after him like a dog on a leash.”

James rolls his eyes. “You’re the dog here, Padfoot. Practically panting and drooling over Moony here.”

Sirius’s glare deepens as he opens his mouth to retaliate, but James beats him to it. “Would you sit and roll over if he told you to, too?”

Sirius kicks at James’s ankle, but James just dodges it, chuckling.

Remus smirks, his voice low and teasing. “You know, Prongs, I think he just might.”

Sirius gasps in mock horror,“Betrayed! Again!” he exclaims, pretending to be wounded. “I’m hurt, Moons. Deeply.” 

James laughs, his grin widening. “Merlin, I love when Remus takes my side. This is gold.”

Sirius shoots a glare at him. “Shut up, Potter, before I tell everyone here how you fantasize about Reggie’s delicate—”

James cuts him off before he can finish the sentence, smirking and leaning forward with a cheeky look. “Oh, don’t even start, Padfoot. We all know you have some very creative thoughts about Moony tying you up and—“

Sirius’s eyes widen, as if James has struck a nerve. He shoots back quickly, “You better shut that mouth of yours, Potter, or I’ll start giving the full details of what you’re imagining right now.”

“Go ahead,” James grins, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sure Regulus would love to hear all about it. Right, Reggie?”

Regulus looks at Sirius, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know, Sirius,” he says smoothly. “I think you’re the one who’s too shy to let anyone know what you’re really into.”

Sirius glares at both of them, but there’s a hint of something nervous in his eyes. “I’m warning you both,” he growls.

Remus, still laughing, leans over and pats Sirius on the back. “It’s okay, Pads. We all have our… preferences.”

Sirius looks at him with exaggerated offense. “Moony, you traitor,” he grumbles, but there’s no real heat behind it.

James chuckles, feeling victorious. “Honestly, this is way more fun than Quidditch.”

The conversation dies down as Regulus gets up, stretching before grabbing his book. He silently slips away to a quiet corner, leaving the others to linger in the aftermath of their jokes. James watches him go, feeling a small tug in his chest.

He plops down next to Sirius on the couch, stretching his legs out and resting his feet on the table. Remus, sitting on the other side, seems relaxed, watching James with a knowing smile.

Sirius leans forward almost immediately, his gaze sharpening. “Okay, spill,” he says, his eyes flicking toward Regulus’s retreating figure.

James looks at him, frowning in confusion. “Spill what?”

Sirius gestures toward the corner where Regulus went. “What’s going on with you two? Not just the ‘I can’t stop thinking about him’ crap. What’s really going on?”

James raises an eyebrow. “Not sure what you mean.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, “Don’t play dumb. You know what I’m asking. Something’s happened between you two, hasn’t it?”

James shifts a bit, his hands fidgeting with his sleeve. “Nothing specific,” he answers carefully, though the words don’t feel complete.

Sirius raises an eyebrow, leaning closer with a smirk. “Nothing specific? You haven’t kissed?”

James flushes, shaking his head quickly. “No. We haven’t kissed.”

Sirius leans in even further, clearly digging for more. “So, what has happened then?”

James shifts uncomfortably, avoiding Sirius’s gaze. “We’ve just been figuring it out,” he says, his voice trailing off.

Sirius isn’t convinced. “Something’s happened, I’m telling you. You were all frantic last night and now you’re all… off.” His eyes narrow, and Remus can’t help but chuckle under his breath.

James glances at Remus, who simply shrugs in silent acknowledgment. “Nothing happened last night,” James says quickly, his voice stiff.

Remus looks away, clearly trying not to laugh, which only makes Sirius more suspicious.

“Now I know that’s bullshit,” Sirius says. “I can see it in Moony’s face.”

James glares at Remus, who just puts his hands up. “We’ve just been… flirting,” James mutters. “Besides…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck, unsure how to finish.

Sirius is leaning forward now, his eyes keen with curiosity. “Besides what? Did Reggie do something to make you go mental?”

James kicks at Sirius lightly, frustrated. “We nearly kissed a few days ago,” he admits, his voice quiet. “But that’s it.”

“Nearly?” Sirius’s smirk widens. 

“Yes, nearly,” James says, quickly adding, narrowing his eyes at Sirius, “Someone interrupted.”

Sirius bursts out laughing. “Little old me?” he says, shaking his head. “I bet that’s why you were all grumpy with me. You just wanted to kiss him, didn’t you?”

James looks away, flushed with embarrassment. “Shut up, Sirius,” he mutters, but he can’t help the small grin tugging at his lips.

Sirius laughs even harder. “Oh, this is rich! You, Prongs, trying to keep it all under wraps. Admit it, you’re dying to kiss him.”

James shakes his head, trying to dismiss it. “I’m not rushing into anything,” he says quietly. “It’s complicated.”

Sirius leans back, nodding thoughtfully. “Fair enough. But if you need any advice, you know where to find me.”

Remus chuckles, giving James a teasing look. “James isn’t exactly known for rushing,” he says, grinning.

James shrugs. “Some things take time.”

Sirius chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Talking about taking time, six years of moping over and chasing Lily Evans, it was Reggie who finally turned your head.” He leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. “I thought you’d never give up on her. But with the way you are with Reggie… it’s different.”

James’ leg bounced nervously, his gaze fixed on the floor as he avoided both Remus’ and Sirius’ eyes. He wanted to protest, to deny it, but he knew Sirius was right. It was different with Regulus.

He’d felt it immediately. 

A long sigh escaped his lips. “I was so sure about Lily, from the start. I mean, I was completely captivated by her. I saw the whole vision in my head, you know? How it would all play out…” His voice trailed off as he relived the fantasy.

Remus gave him a kind smile, his expression gentle. “But?”

James hesitated, gathering his thoughts before continuing. “But… it was never going to happen. I figured that out a long time ago. But I’m not one to give up easily.”

“Oh, we know,” Sirius quipped with a grin.

James shot him a half-smile, but the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It was more of an infatuation, really. And then, when I saw her in Hogsmeade the other day, it just felt… empty. Like, nothing. Like the idea I had in my head was just a fantasy, not something real.”

Sirius studied James for a moment, his usual teasing demeanor replaced with something more thoughtful. “That’s a hell of a realization,” he said quietly. “But if it’s any consolation, you’re not the only one who’s had to let go of things they thought were set in stone.”

James glanced up at Sirius, then to Remus, who was watching him with quiet understanding. It made him feel a little lighter, though the weight of his own confusion was still there. “It just feels different with Reggie. I don’t know… there’s something real about it, something I never had with Lily.”

Remus nodded slowly. “Sometimes the heart doesn’t go where you expect it to.”

James met his eyes, his throat tightening slightly. “Yeah, and I don’t know what to do with that.”

Sirius looked at him with a raised brow. “You are just trying to figure it out, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” James admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure where it’s going, or even if it’s going anywhere at all. But with Reggie… it just feels more… natural. Less of a fight.”

Remus gave him a soft, knowing smile. “You’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

Sirius, ever the one to break tension with humor, grinned. “Well, if you need any advice on how to get Reggie to notice you properly, I’m your guy.”

James rolled his eyes, half-smiling. “Thanks, but I think I’ve got this.”

                   *  ~  *  ~  *

James wandered to the small library, scanning the room for any sign of Regulus. The fire was still crackling warmly in the hearth, but the chair by the window where Regulus often sat was empty.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’d spent the last hour in the sitting room with Sirius and Remus, but his mind had wandered, specifically to Regulus. It was ridiculous how much time he spent thinking about him.

Finally, he’d excused himself, pretending to need a book, but now it seemed Regulus wasn’t here.

James frowned. He’d seen Regulus slip away earlier, so he had to be somewhere. On a hunch, James left the library and headed towards his dad’s old workshop. 

Sure enough, when he pushed open the door, there he was.

Regulus stood at one of the long work tables, meticulously organizing jars of ingredients. His sleeves were rolled up, and a quill floated in the air beside him, taking notes on a piece of parchment. He was so focused he didn’t notice James until the door clicked shut.

“You left the sitting room without saying a word. Thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”James said, grinning as he entered the room.

Regulus arched an eyebrow. “I left so you could spend time with your friends.”

James stopped beside the table, resting his hands on the edge as he watched Regulus carefully arrange a row of vials. “You could’ve stayed, you know. Sirius would’ve behaved. Mostly.”

Regulus snorted softly. “I find that unlikely.”

James grinned, leaning a little closer. “Alright, fine. But you could’ve stayed for me.”

Regulus’s hand paused briefly, but he didn’t look up. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I like having you around,” James said simply.

This time, Regulus did glance up, his gaze sharp but unreadable. “If you’re trying to distract me, it won’t work.”

“Distract you?” James said dramatically, straightening up, “How ever would I do that?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “If you’re going to stay, don’t touch anything.”

James smirked, taking a step closer. “What if I just touched…this?” He reached for a small vial, but before he could grab it, Regulus’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist.

“James,” Regulus said warningly, his voice low but not unkind.

James tilted his head, a teasing grin on his face. “What?”

Regulus gave him a look, one that clearly said don’t test me, and released his wrist.

“Fine, fine,” James said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll be good.”

“Doubtful,” Regulus muttered, turning back to his work.

James didn’t bother hiding his grin as he stepped closer again, this time sliding a hand around the small of Regulus’s back.

Regulus stiffened slightly, shooting him a sidelong glance. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” James said innocently, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of Regulus’s shirt.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “Helping how, exactly?”

“Providing moral support,” James said, his grin widening. “I’m very good at it, as we’ve established.”

Regulus rolled his eyes again, but he didn’t move away. “Just don’t knock anything over.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

For a moment, they stood there in comfortable silence, James’s hand lingering at Regulus’s back as Regulus continued his careful cataloging. The tension between them was palpable, a quiet, unspoken thing that neither of them seemed willing to acknowledge outright.

James found his gaze drifting, not to the vials or the parchment, but to the Regulus. His brows furrowed in concentration some stray hairs falling into his face. 

“You’re staring,” Regulus said without looking up.

James didn’t bother denying it. “Can you blame me?”

Regulus’s lips twitched, but he said nothing, his focus remaining on his work.

“Reggie,” James said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Regulus finally turned his head, meeting James’s gaze. “What?”

James’s fingers flexed slightly against his back, and for a moment, he thought about closing the distance between them. But he held back, unsure of whether he’d crossed a line or if Regulus was waiting for him to.

“Nothing,” James said finally, his voice warm and teasing. “Just checking to make sure you’re not annoyed with me yet.”

Regulus huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “If I were annoyed, you’d know.” 

James chuckled, but his amusement faltered when Regulus shifted, brushing against him ever so slightly. His breath caught, and for a moment, he forgot what he’d been about to say.

Regulus must have noticed, because when he turned to face James, there was something almost wicked in his expression. His dark lashes fluttered just a little too deliberately as he tilted his head and smiled sweetly. “What’s the matter, Jamie?” he asked, his voice soft and laced with mock innocence.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, though the word came out far too hoarse to be convincing.

Regulus’s eyes lingered on James for a beat too long before he turned back to his work. His fingers brushed over a jar of powdered asphodel, and he made a show of biting his lip as he inspected the label. James’s gaze dropped helplessly to the movement, and he clenched his fists at his sides to keep himself from doing something idiotic.

“You’re making it really hard to think right now, Reggie,” James muttered, half under his breath, but Regulus heard him.

Regulus glanced over his shoulder, his eyes alight with mischief. “Don’t I always?” he asked, dragging his gaze down James’s body in an almost exaggerated manner, his lips curling into a smirk.

James swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise to his face. “Yes,” he managed, his voice rough. 

Regulus hummed, clearly pleased with himself. “I told you not to touch anything,” he said lightly, his tone teasing.

James didn’t even realize he’d moved until his hand slid around Regulus’ hip, resting there firmly but not pulling him closer. “Didn’t say anything about not touching you, though.” 

Regulus stilled, his body tensing briefly before he turned his head slightly, giving James a sharp, knowing look.

“You should probably let go,” Regulus murmured.

James’s fingers tightened, just barely. Feeling the sharp bone under his fingers and physically holding back a groan. “Do you really want me to?”

Regulus didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned fully toward James, the edge of the workbench digging into his lower back as he tilted his head up, their faces now much closer than before.

“Not really,” Regulus said finally, his voice soft but laced with challenge.

James inhaled sharply, his composure hanging by a thread. He stepped closer, his free hand coming up to rest lightly on the edge of the workbench, boxing Regulus in without quite touching him.

“Reggie,” James began, his voice strained.

Regulus’s eyes flicked to his lips, then back up. “Yes, Jamie?”

James groaned, his restraint cracking further. “You’re driving me mad, you know.”

Regulus’s smirk widened. “Good.” 

He let his eyes trial the length of James body before he turned back to his work. James was gonna lose his mind. Maybe he already had. Regulus was killing him. Bit by bit.

James’s chest was tight, the air around him charged with something he couldn’t control. His eyes darted between Regulus and the workbench, heat pooling low in his stomach as his mind betrayed him, conjuring images he had no right to entertain. He could see it so vividly—Regulus bent over the desk, his hair messy and his face flushed, a sound escaping his lips that would undo James completely.

His heart stuttered, pounding erratically in his chest. He could feel the edges of his resolve fraying, splintering under the weight of it all. He looked away, dragging his gaze to the floor, to the desk, anywhere but at Regulus. If he looked any longer, he was going to snap. He felt it, knew it with an unshakable certainty.

“James?” Regulus’s voice was soft, but there was something teasing in it, like he knew exactly what was happening in James’s head. “Are you alright?”

James didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His throat was dry, and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He stared fixedly at the desk, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge, hoping, praying, that what was left of his self-control would hold.

“Look at me, James,” Regulus said, his tone quiet but insistent.

James didn’t move. If he met those sharp, knowing eyes, he’d lose the last shred of composure he had.

“James,” Regulus said again, more firmly this time.

And then Regulus’s fingers were on him, cool and confident as they grabbed his jaw, forcing his head to turn. The pressure of Regulus’s grip made James gasp softly, a small, involuntary sound that escaped before he could stop it. Regulus’s thumb pressed lightly against his cheek, the touch sending a shockwave through James’s body, every nerve alight.

“There you are,” Regulus murmured, his lips curling into the faintest smirk as he tilted James’s head just enough to keep his full attention.

James’s breath hitched, his eyes locking onto Regulus’s. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His body reacted instantly, leaning into the touch even though his mind screamed at him to stop.

Regulus pulled him closer, their faces just inches apart. James could feel the heat of his breath ghosting across his lips, could see the flicker of control in Regulus’s eyes.

“That’s it,” Regulus said softly, his voice like velvet.

James’s resolve shattered completely. He was sure it was going to happen—finally, inevitably. His hands twitched, desperate to pull Regulus closer, to close the gap between them.

But then Regulus pushed him back forcefully, by his grip on James’s jaw. James stumbled, caught off guard, his mind reeling as Regulus turned away and resumed cataloging his ingredients like nothing had happened.

James stood frozen, his brain blank, his body still humming with tension.

“Gods, Reggie,” he rasped after a long moment, his voice raw. “I can’t take any more of this.”

Regulus didn’t turn around. He didn’t even pause. Instead, he picked up another vial, inspecting the label with calm precision, though James swore he saw the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh you can, Potter.” Regulus said simply, not looking at him.

James let out a frustrated sound, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back, desperate for air, for clarity, for anything that wasn’t Regulus Black consuming every thought in his head.

He left the workshop, his mind was a whirlwind, his heart still racing. And yet, even as he slammed the door behind him, all he could think about was how badly he wanted to turn around and go back. To bend Regulus over that fucking desk and pull him apart piece by piece as he fell apart beautifully on him. 

James let out a frustrated groan, raking his fingers through his hair as he stumbled down the hall. His thoughts were a tangled mess, his heart still pounding from the memory of Regulus’s touch, his nearness, the charged tension between them that had ended so abruptly. 

He could still feel the phantom pressure of Regulus’s fingers on his jaw, could hear the low, teasing murmur of “That’s it.” 

And it was driving him up the fucking wall. His sanity was frayed, his mind a mess. And it was all Regulus’ fault. 

When he reached the room he shared with Sirius, he was desperate for some normalcy, something to anchor himself. But as he pushed the door open, normalcy was the last thing he found.

Sirius and Remus were entwined on Sirius’s bed, locked in a kiss that was anything but innocent. Sirius’s hand was buried in Remus’s hair, and the faint, contented sound Sirius made into the kiss made James freeze in his tracks.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” James groaned, clapping a hand over his eyes and stumbling backward dramatically. “My eyes! I’m blind! Betrayed in my own room!”

Sirius pulled back just enough to roll his eyes, his arm still looped lazily around Remus’s shoulders. “Get over yourself, Prongs.”

“No, no, this is unforgivable,” James continued, stumbling toward his bed while keeping his hand firmly over his eyes. “I’m going to have to sterilize the whole room, then gouge my eyes out. Oh, the trauma!”

Remus chuckled softly, looking entirely unbothered, while Sirius threw a pillow in James’s direction. It hit him squarely in the chest.

“It’s not like we haven’t talked about this, James,” Sirius said, arching an eyebrow.

“Hearing about it and hearing it are two entirely different things!” James shot back, flopping onto his bed and sighing dramatically.

Sirius smirked. “Keep up this act, and I swear, next time, we’ll use your bed.”

James gasped, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. “I would have to burn it, Pads. Burn it to ashes and scatter them in the Forbidden Forest.”

Sirius just shook his head, but his smirk widened.

James let his head fall back against the wall, sighing again. “Honestly, I would say, ‘continue,’ but I don’t want to have nightmares tonight.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Sirius drawled, but before he could say more, Remus turned his gaze toward James, his sharp, observant eyes narrowing slightly.

“What’s wrong, James?” Remus asked, his voice calm but probing.

James laughed, brushing him off with a wave of his hand. “Nothing’s wrong, Moony.”

“Don’t give me that,” Remus pressed. “You’ve got that look.”

Sirius leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at James as well. “He’s right. Don’t play dumb, you look on the verge of a mental breakdown.”

James let out a humorless laugh. “I feel on the verge of one.”

“Regulus?” Remus guessed.

James groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Gods, yes. Who else?”

“So what happened?” Sirius asked, clearly intrigued.

James sighed, the memory of the workshop encounter flashing through his mind. “I went to check on him. He was in the workshop, just… cataloging potions ingredients or something. And there was this moment—he grabbed my face, and I thought—Merlin, I thought…”

“That he was going to kiss you,” Sirius finished for him, grinning knowingly.

“Yes! But he didn’t,” James exclaimed, throwing his arms up. “Instead, he dragged me in close, whispered something cryptic, and then just pushed me away like nothing happened! He went back to his notes as if he hadn’t just wrecked my sanity in two seconds flat!”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, he’s good. Playing you like a fiddle, Potter.”

James groaned again, flopping back against the wall. “I’m going mad. I don’t want to push him, but I swear he’s going to drive me insane.”

“You’re overthinking it,” Sirius said, leaning back against the headboard with an amused look. “Reggie loves mind games. Always has. He’s probably waiting for you to crack.”

James sat up, frowning. “So what do I do? Just let him keep killing my brain cells off one by one until there’s nothing left? Because I'm certain I'm already halfway there at this point.”

“No,” Sirius said, his tone turning more serious. “You play the game back. Don’t let him think he’s got all the power.”

Remus nodded in agreement. “Sirius is right. Regulus is testing you—your restraint.”

James frowned, leaning back against the wall with a defeated sigh. “Hate to break it to you, but I’ve already tried that. I never have the upper hand for long.”

Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically. “Are you kidding me? You’re James Potter! You flirt without even trying. You know you can knock him off his game, you just can’t let him get the better of you.”

James shot him a sharp glare but couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from twitching upward. “You make it sound so bloody simple.”

“It is simple,” Sirius said with an exasperated huff. “You’re overcomplicating it. Regulus is a lot of things, but he’s not invincible. Trust me, you’ve already gotten under his skin—you just don’t realize it yet.”

James tilted his head, skeptical. “And how exactly would you know that?”

Sirius smirked knowingly, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Because he’s a Black. And we don’t play games unless we care about the outcome. If Reggie wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t be toying with you like this. He’d shut it down completely.”

James blinked, Sirius’s words settling heavily in his mind. Was it really that straightforward?

“Just… don’t let him throw you off,” Remus chimed in, his calm, measured voice cutting through James’s spiral of thoughts. “Whatever happens, be honest with him. Regulus doesn’t trust easily, but if you show him you’re not going anywhere, he’ll come around.”

James let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “All right. I’ll try.”

Sirius’s smirk widened into a full grin. “And if all else fails,” he added, his tone entirely too casual, “just snog him senseless and let that do the talking.”

James groaned, throwing the pillow Sirius had lobbed at him earlier right back at his friend. “Yeah, I’ll definitely keep that brilliant advice in mind, Pads. Thanks.”

Chapter Text

August 5th

James had spent the better part of the morning pacing his room, trying to figure out exactly how he was going to accomplish what he’d promised Sirius and Remus and more importantly, what he’d promised himself. He was done being the one caught off guard, the one fumbling for words while Regulus Black walked away with that maddening smirk plastered across his face.

Not today.

James was determined. He’d analyzed every glance, every subtle tilt of Regulus’s lips, every brush of his fingers that lingered just a second too long. He knew the way Regulus’s dark eyes would flicker to his mouth when he thought James wasn’t paying attention. He knew how Regulus’s voice softened when he said “Jamie,” low and teasing, with just enough of a drawl to send a shiver down James’s spine.

Not this time.

James was prepared to deflect every calculated move. He’d thought through every possible scenario, every clever retort he could throw back. Today, he was going to be the one who smirked, who left Regulus speechless. He’d be in control, no matter what Regulus threw at him.

Of course, that was easier said than done.

James wasn’t sure where Regulus was, but he had a pretty good idea. If Regulus wasn’t in the library, he was probably back in the workshop, tinkering with whatever potion had captured his attention lately. James didn’t care. He was ready for round two.

Or ten. 

He grabbed his glasses, ran a hand through his hair, because messy was charming, right? And made his way down the stairs, his heart beating a little faster than he’d like.

When he reached the workshop door, he hesitated for just a moment, steeling himself. He could do this. He could win this round.

James pushed the door open, stepping inside with as much casual confidence as he could muster. Regulus was exactly where he thought he’d be, hunched over his workspace, scribbling notes in that small, meticulous script of his.

“Morning, Reggie,” James said, leaning against the doorframe, his voice light and easy despite the anxiety coursing through him. 

Regulus didn’t look up right away, but the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “Jamie,” he drawled, his tone already dripping with that infuriating charm. “Didn’t expect to see you here. What, no plans to gallivant around with Sirius and Remus today?”

James shrugged, stepping further into the room. “I figured I’d let them have their little date. Thought I’d see what you were up to instead.”

“Hmm.” Regulus finally looked up, his dark eyes scanning James in that way that always made him feel like he was being studied. “And what exactly do you think I’m up to?”

James grinned, leaning on the edge of the desk and crossing his arms. “Something terribly important, I’m sure.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, setting down his quill. “Terribly,” he said dryly. “And yet here you are, interrupting me.”

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just here to observe.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes, but there was amusement in his gaze. “You’re planning something.”

James tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Me? Planning? How ever would I manage that, Reggie?”

There it was. A flicker of intrigue in Regulus’s expression. James hid his grin, his confidence surging. He’s going to win this time. 

“James,” Regulus said, his voice lower now, slower. “You’re acting strange.”

“Strange?” James leaned closer, just slightly, enough to tip the balance. “I’m perfectly normal. Maybe you’re the one acting strange.”

Regulus didn’t answer right away, his gaze sharp and assessing. But then his lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile. “We’ll see.”

James swallowed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

James leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, his grin practically oozing confidence. “You know, Reggie, all this talk and smirking, makes me wonder if you’re really all that.”

Regulus glanced up from his notes, unimpressed. “All that?”

“Yeah,” James said, standing up straight now. “All that you claim to be. Cool, composed, untouchable. Seems like maybe you’re all bark, no bite.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and went back to his work. “Merlin, you’re exhausting.”

James smirked, taking a step closer, wanting nothing more than to close the space between them entirely, “Prove me wrong.”

“Prove you wrong?” Regulus repeated flatly, not bothering to look at him. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Yeah. Duel me. Right now,” James said, his voice ringing with enough conviction to make Regulus pause.

Regulus finally looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “You’re joking.”

James crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Dead serious. Let’s go. Outside.”

Regulus snorted, clearly unimpressed. “I’m not going to duel you, Potter.”

“What’s the matter? Scared, Reggie?”

That got him. Regulus stiffened slightly, his dark eyes narrowing as they locked on James. “I’m not scared. I just don’t waste my time on petty displays of bravado.”

“Petty?” James repeated, mock-offended. “You’re dodging the challenge, and I think it’s because you know you’ll lose.”

Regulus sighed, muttering something under his breath before pushing back his chair. “Fine. If only to shut you up.”

James grinned, triumph lighting up his features. “Brilliant. Come on, then.”

As they left the workshop, James made a point to walk right behind Regulus, his hand brushing the small of his back as they navigated the narrow hallway. He didn’t miss the way Regulus tensed at the contact, though he didn’t say anything.

When they reached the back door, James reached out and curled his hand around Regulus’s shoulder briefly, guiding him outside. Regulus shot him a sharp look but still didn’t pull away.

“Keep touching me, Potter, and I’ll hex you before we even start,” Regulus said, his tone dry but his lips quirking up in the faintest hint of a smirk.

“Noted,” James said, grinning as he let go.

They stepped onto the grass, the sun shining down as they faced each other. James took a few steps back, drawing his wand with a dramatic flourish. “Ready to be humiliated, Black?”

Regulus mirrored him, pulling out his wand with considerably less show. “You do realize I’m better at this than you, right?”

James barked a laugh. “You’re good at a lot of things, Reggie, but beating me isn’t one of them.”

Regulus tilted his head, his smirk sharp as a blade. “Doesn’t seem that way from where I’m standing.”

The first spell came from James, quick and playful, a harmless jinx that Regulus deflected with ease.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Regulus said, sending a Disarming Charm James’s way.

James dodged it with a laugh. “Just warming up, love.”

“Don’t call me that,” Regulus said, his voice clipped but his cheeks a faint pink.

“What, love?” James teased, twirling his wand between his fingers. “You don’t like it? Would you prefer, sweetheart?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, flicking his wand and sending a Stinging Hex that hit James square in the shoulder.

“Oi!” James yelped, rubbing his arm. “All right, no more playing nice.”

“Oh, were you playing nice before?” Regulus asked, his smirk widening.

The duel escalated quickly, spells flying back and forth as the tension crackled between them. Regulus was precise, calculated, his movements sharp and controlled. James was quick, unpredictable, his style all instinct and improvisation.

“You’re slipping, Reggie,” James said as he dodged a well-aimed Stunning Spell. “Getting distracted, are we?”

Regulus’s eyes flashed dangerously. “By what? Your mediocre technique?”

James grinned. “By me, obviously.”

Regulus didn’t respond, instead firing off a string of spells in rapid succession. James deflected them all, but just barely, his grin faltering as he realized Regulus was very much not distracted.

“Feeling confident, are we?” Regulus said, advancing a step as James stumbled slightly.

“Always,” James shot back, regaining his footing. He sent a Levitation Charm toward Regulus, who blocked it with a quick Shield Charm.

“You’re losing, Potter,” Regulus said, his smirk as infuriating as ever.

James grinned despite himself, his heart racing, not from the duel, but from the way Regulus looked right now, hair slightly tousled, his cheeks flushed with exertion. “You wish.”

They continued trading spells, the banter growing sharper, the tension between them more charged. Neither wanted to back down, and neither was willing to lose. 

James finally managed to knock Regulus’s wand out of his hand, but before he could gloat, Regulus lunged forward, tackling him to the ground.

“Merlin, Reggie!” James laughed, trying to wrestle free as Regulus pinned him down. “You’re such a sore loser!”

“I haven’t lost,” Regulus said, his voice low and triumphant as he grabbed James’s wand and tossed it aside.

James stared up at him, breathing hard, his heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the duel. “You play dirty, you know that?”

Regulus smirked, his face inches from James’s. “I win, don’t I?”

James swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Not yet, you don’t.”

James, with the instincts of a Quidditch player and the stubborn determination that Sirius always complained about, bucked up with all his strength, flipping them over in one swift motion. Regulus barely had time to react before James was between his legs, pinning his wrists to the grass with an infuriatingly smug grin.

James hovered over him, his body pressing down just enough to keep Regulus firmly beneath him. He was slotted tightly between Regulus’ thighs, the closeness of their faces was enough to make Regulus’s heart hammer in his chest.

“Oh my,” James drawled, tilting his head as he leaned closer. “Don’t you look pretty like this, Reggie?”

Regulus’s breath hitched, his wide eyes narrowing, but he stayed silent, waiting for the moment to strike.

James’s grin widened, and he lowered his voice, letting it turn into a low, teasing murmur. “All nice and flushed, underneath me just where you should be.”

The words sent heat spreading like wildfire through Regulus, his composure threatening to crack under the weight of them. He refused to let James see it, but his body betrayed him. His cheeks burning, his breath coming faster.

James, of course, noticed. His grin turned wicked, his grip on Regulus’s wrists tightening just enough to make Regulus feel completely trapped.

Regulus opened his mouth to retort, to spit something biting and sharp to regain control of the situation. But before he could get the words out, James shifted “adjusting,” as he would later claim and pressed his hips forward.

The movement was slow, deliberate and devastating. Regulus’s breath left him in a soft, involuntary sound that he immediately hated himself for.

James stilled at it, his eyes darkening, flashing with something raw and unreadable. For a split second, the world seemed to narrow to just this. Regulus beneath him, flushed and breathing hard, and that sound replaying in James’s head like a taunt.

It was nearly his undoing. His body moved on its own, pressing forward again, the shift just as slow as before. His grip on Regulus’s wrists tightened, almost imperceptibly, and he swore he felt Regulus’s fingers flex beneath his.

The second sound Regulus made, a hitch of breath that wasn’t quite a gasp, wasn’t quite a whimper was enough to shatter James’s already slipping control. For a moment, he hovered there, his body locked up as every nerve screamed at him to keep going. To lean in, to say or do something that would push them both over the edge of whatever this was.

But then clarity struck, cutting through the haze, and James froze. His breath came hard and fast, his pulse pounding like a drum in his ears. He blinked down at Regulus, taking in the disheveled hair, the parted lips, the way his chest rose and fell with each quick breath.

James let go of Regulus’s wrists, springing to his feet with an abruptness that felt almost violent. He took a few steps back, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to ground himself.

“Rematch,” he said, grinning as if nothing had just happened, as if he hadn’t practically left Regulus in shambles.

Regulus sat up, his expression a mix of irritation and determination. “You’re the worst, Potter,” he said, brushing grass from his robes as he stood.

“Yeah, yeah,” James said, already moving to put a few paces between them. He twirled his wand in his fingers and shot Regulus a grin over his shoulder. “Come on, Reggie. Let’s see if you can actually win this time.”

Regulus’s grip on his wand tightened as he took his position. “You’ll regret that.”

“Oh, I’m trembling.”

They didn’t waste any time this time. Regulus struck first, firing off a hex that James narrowly avoided with a quick Shield Charm. James countered with a Trip Jinx that sent Regulus stumbling but not falling.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Regulus taunted, brushing himself off and firing a Stinging Hex that grazed James’s shoulder.

“Not even close,” James shot back, retaliating with a Disarming Spell that Regulus deflected with ease.

The back-and-forth was faster, sharper this time, the banter mingling with the crackling energy of spells.

“You always this clumsy in duels?” Regulus asked, smirking as James tripped over a tree root while dodging a spell.

“You always this smug?” James countered, firing off a spell that sent a gust of wind strong enough to make Regulus stagger.

“Only when I’m winning,” Regulus replied smoothly, though his breath was coming faster now.

“Winning? Hate to break it to you, love, but this is still anyone’s game.”

The word “love” earned him a glare, but it was half-hearted at best, and James couldn’t help but notice the slight curl of Regulus’s lips.

Regulus, tired of playing defense, fired a Stunning Spell that James ducked at the last second, rolling across the grass and springing up with his wand ready.

“Close one,” James teased, wiping sweat from his brow. “I’d say you’re improving, but I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “You talk too much.”

“And you—” James started, but before he could finish, Regulus sent another spell flying his way. James blocked it just in time, the force of the spell pushing him back a step.

Finally, James saw his opening. With a quick flick of his wand, he cast a Levitation Charm that sent Regulus briefly into the air before dropping him unceremoniously onto his back.

James was on him in an instant, pinning him down once again, his grin wide and triumphant.

“Round two, and I’m still on top,” James said, his voice low, teasing.

Regulus glared up at him, his cheeks flushed. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Potter. Because next time, you’re going to lose.”

James chuckled, his grin widening. “We’ll see about that, Reggie.” He leaned a fraction closer, their faces so near now that James could feel the warmth of Regulus’s breath against his cheek. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t move back, only that there was something addictive about being this close, watching the way Regulus’s dark eyes darted over his face like he was calculating his next move.

But James didn’t expect the shift. Regulus moved fast, faster than James thought possible for someone so small in comparison and with a sharp twist of his body, he rolled them over.

James barely had time to react before he found himself flat on his back, Regulus above him now, pressing him into the ground with his hands locked tightly around James’s wrists.

The smirk on Regulus’s face was smug. “Do you really think you’re in control here, Potter?” His voice was quiet, almost too soft, but it carried a weight that made James’s stomach tighten.

For a moment, James was caught off guard. Not by the words, but by the closeness. Regulus’s knees bracketed James’s hips, his lean frame pressing down just enough to remind James that one move and he was done for.

Reggie’s hair fell forward in dark waves, brushing against his forehead as he leaned in, and James realized with a sharp jolt that he could count the faint freckles dusting Regulus’s pale skin.

“Seems like I am,” Regulus added, his smirk deepening, though his voice had lost some of its steadiness.

James should’ve been thinking about his next move. He should’ve been coming up with a way to turn the tables. But instead, his brain betrayed him by focusing entirely on how unfairly pretty Regulus was. His pale face was flushed from exertion, his lips parted just slightly, and his eyes were dark, piercing, and utterly impossible to look away from and they were fixed squarely on James.

And Merlin save him. Regulus looked even better sitting in his lap than he remembered. 

James swallowed hard, tilting his head back into the grass as if it might help him catch his breath. It didn’t.

“You’re quiet for once,” Regulus said, breaking the silence with a low, mocking tone. “Nothing to say?”

James forced a smirk, though his chest was still tight. “Just waiting to see what you do next, love.”

The nickname landed like a spark in dry kindling. Regulus’s grip on his wrists tightened, his lips parting in a soft inhale that gave him away before he could stop it. James saw it, the hesitation, the falter and suddenly, he didn’t feel quite so trapped anymore.

“You’re awfully close,” James murmured, letting his voice drop into something quieter, softer, as he shifted just slightly under Regulus. Intentionally pressing his thickening cock against him. He felt the way Regulus tensed above him, the way his knees dug harder into the ground as if anchoring himself.

Regulus opened his mouth, maybe to retort, but whatever he was about to say didn’t come out. Instead, James caught it. The moment his gaze flicked down, settling on James’s mouth for the briefest, most damning second, before darting back up again.

James’s pulse hammered, “What’s wrong, Reggie?” he asked, his tone lighter, teasing. “You look a little… distracted.”

Regulus’s jaw clenched, his cheeks flushing darker. “You’re imagining things,” he said stiffly, though his hands trembled just slightly where they pinned James’s wrists.

James’s grin turned wolfish. “That right?”

Neither of them moved, but it was like the space between them was pulling tighter, more charged with every passing second. Regulus didn’t lean in, not really, but the weight of him seemed to press James further into the grass, the sharp, clean scent of him filling James’s lungs like a drug.

And then it happened. Regulus’s eyes dropped again. This time, slower. His gaze lingered just a beat too long on James’s mouth, his pupils dark and blown wide before he caught himself, his lips pressing into a tight, frustrated line.

James’s chest felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t stop the way his own eyes darted to Regulus’s lips, how pink they looked, how close.

The tension snapped.

Regulus tore himself away, pushing off James abruptly. He scrambled to his feet, his face unreadable as he brushed himself off with quick, sharp movements.

James lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky and trying to make sense of the sharp, empty ache that had replaced the heat of Regulus’s body above him.

“Running away already?” he called, his voice lighter than he felt as he propped himself up on his elbows.

Regulus turned to glare at him, but there was something frayed around the edges of his usual composure. His cheeks were still flushed, his hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. “This isn’t over, Potter,” he said stiffly.

James grinned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Looking forward to it, sweetheart.”

Regulus spun on his heel and stalked off without another word, leaving James sitting there in the grass, staring after him and feeling like the ground had just shifted under his feet.

James stayed on the ground long after Regulus walked away. The grass beneath him was soft and cool, a stark contrast to the heat burning under his skin. His breath still came quick, his mind replaying every moment of their duel. Every look, every smirk, every infuriatingly calculated move Regulus had made. And then the way it ended—Merlin, the way it ended.

He ran a hand through his hair, groaning quietly to himself. Regulus’s flushed cheeks and wide eyes were seared into his mind, the ghost of that soft sound Regulus made still lingering in his ears. James squeezed his eyes shut, willing it all away.

But it wouldn’t go.

His thoughts were a tangled mess of frustration, desire, and something else he couldn’t quite name. Part of him wanted to push himself up, march after Regulus, grab him, and finally crash their lips together. He wanted to taste him, to pull him close, to feel the sharp edge of his sarcasm soften into something raw and real.

But he didn’t move. Something held him back, a nagging voice in the back of his mind that whispered, Not yet.

Maybe it was the game they were playing. As maddening as it was, James couldn’t deny how much he liked it. The push and pull, the charged silences, the way Regulus’s eyes would flicker to his lips before darting back up. It was addictive.

And then there was the other part of him, the part that wanted to see Regulus break first. To see him crack under the weight of his own walls and finally do something about it. 

James sighed, letting his hand fall over his face. He didn’t know how long he’d been lying there when Sirius’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Well, don’t you look like you’ve had a day,” Sirius drawled, flopping down onto the grass beside him with all the grace of a kneazle.

James didn’t answer right away, still staring at the sky.

Sirius propped himself up on an elbow, glancing at James’s face. “What’s got you so twisted up, mate? You lose another match with Reggie?”

James finally turned his head, narrowing his eyes at Sirius. “I didn’t lose.”

Sirius snorted. “Right. That’s why you’re out here looking like someone just hexed your broom in half.”

James groaned, covering his face with both hands. “Shut up.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Sirius said, grinning now. “This is way too good. What did he do this time? Call you ‘Jamie’ again?”

James dropped his hands and glared at Sirius. “You’re the worst best friend ever.”

“And you’re obvious,” Sirius shot back, his grin softening into something more knowing. “So, what’s the deal? I can practically feel the tension radiating off you.” 

James hesitated, his chest tightening. He turned his gaze back to the sky, the words caught in his throat.

Sirius poked him in the side. “Spit it out, mate. I won’t tell him, if that’s what you’re worried about.“

James sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s…complicated.”

“Complicated?” Sirius echoed, raising an eyebrow. “James, I’ve seen you take on a nest of pixies without breaking a sweat. You’re telling me my baby brother is what’s got you all tangled up?”

James shot him a look. “He’s not just…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words. “He’s not just anything, Sirius. That’s the problem.”

For once, Sirius didn’t tease. He leaned back, resting his hands behind his head as he stared up at the sky. “You’re so gone for him, aren’t you?” 

James didn’t answer right away. His thoughts were still a mess, but one thing stood out, clear and undeniable.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “Yeah, I am.”

Sirius was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his tone softer than James had ever heard it. “Just…don’t hurt him, yeah? He’s been through enough.”

James turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden shift in Sirius’s demeanor. “I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.”

James let his arm drape over his face as if it could block out the intensity of his own thoughts. Sirius stayed quiet, which was unusual. But James was grateful for it. He could feel Sirius’s presence beside him, solid and grounding, even as his own thoughts spun out of control.

“I don’t know what to do,” James admitted, his voice muffled. “One minute I think I’ve got him figured out, and then he says or does something that completely throws me off.”

“That’s Reggie for you,” Sirius said, his tone light but not unkind. “He’s always been a tough nut to crack. Stubborn as hell, too.”

James lowered his arm, staring up at the darkening sky. “It’s not just that, though. It’s the way he looks at me, Pads. Like…like he knows exactly what I’m thinking but won’t let me in on what’s going on in his mind. It’s maddening.”

Sirius gave a short laugh. “He’s been like that since we were kids. Always keeping things locked up tight.” He paused, his voice softening. “But he doesn’t do that with everyone, you know. If he’s letting you in, even just a little, that’s something.”

James turned his head to look at Sirius, studying his profile. “You think he’s letting me in?”

Sirius shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Mate, I know my brother. If he didn’t want you around, you’d know. Hell, you’d be hexed six ways to Sunday by now.”

James huffed a quiet laugh despite himself. “He’s already hexed me plenty.”

“Yeah, but you’re still here. And so is he,” Sirius said simply.

James frowned, his thoughts circling back to what he’d just said. “That’s what scares me, though. I don’t want to push him. I don’t want to ruin whatever this is.”

Sirius glanced at him, his expression unusually serious. “You think he’s fragile, don’t you?”

James hesitated, unsure how to answer. “Not fragile. Just… I know he’s been through a lot. And I don’t want to—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair again. “I don’t want to make him feel like he has to give me something he’s not ready for.”

Sirius nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “You’re right to be careful. Reggie’s not the easiest person to read, but he’s not as breakable as you think, either.”

James frowned, his chest tightening. “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve seen him survive things that would’ve crushed most people,” Sirius said quietly. “He’s tougher than he looks, James. And if he’s sticking around, it means he’s making a choice. He doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

James let that sink in, his mind replaying every interaction he’d had with Regulus. The way he lingered just a little too long after their duel, the way his gaze sometimes softened when he looked at James.

“Do you think he feels the same way?” James asked before he could stop himself.

Sirius smirked, his lighthearted tone returning. “Oh, mate. If you could see the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention, you wouldn’t even have to ask.”

                  *   ~   *   ~   *

Regulus stood staring out the window as the late afternoon sunlight painted the garden in soft hues of gold and green. From here, he had a clear view of the spot where James had laid the grass, his body still sprawled out like he couldn’t be bothered to move. Sirius soon joined him, and Regulus’s eyes narrowed as he watched them talk.

Regulus shifted uncomfortably, a knot forming in his chest as he tried to tear his gaze away from James. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look at him; it was more that he couldn’t stop. The way James was, the way he moved, spoke, and even held himself… it was like a magnet, drawing Regulus in whether he liked it or not.

His fingers gripped the windowsill as he leaned closer, watching the two of them, his thoughts spiraling. He hated how easily James got under his skin. He knew, Merlin, he knew, that James was holding back.

But Regulus could feel it. The restraint in James’s every move, every glance. He was so close to breaking. And Regulus was pretty damn sure it wasn’t just because of the games they played. 

How James would touch him, always just a little too long, and Regulus would savor every second. The way his fingers twitched at his sides, the way his jaw clenched when the air between them thickened with tension. He loved that. It made him feel seen, wanted. And the best part? He knew James couldn’t hide it. 

Regulus thought back to the other night, to the way James had shifted back in the chair, looking at him with that look. That fucking look. The one that made Regulus feel like he was going to burn up on the spot. The way James’s hand slid up his thigh, the heated, hungry expression on his face.

Then there was that groan James had let out, the one that had reverberated through Regulus’s entire body. When James pressed against his back, his hips shifted, and Regulus couldn’t stop himself from whining at the sight. He could still feel the way James had completely lost control. The way he was gone in that moment. It sent shivers down Regulus’s spine just thinking about it.

Regulus ran his hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. His heart was pounding, his mind racing with too many emotions to make sense of. He wanted James. He craved him. But he couldn’t allow himself to act on it. Not fully. 

It was complicated. He didn’t know if he was ready for something real, something as intense as what was simmering between them. But James… James was ready. Regulus could see it. He could feel it in every glance, every subtle movement. But James held back. He always did. Because he cared. 

He shifted, leaning back against the wall, his eyes flicking back to the window. James and Sirius were still talking, but Regulus’s focus was solely on James. He couldn’t stop looking at him. He was drawn to him, and it irritated him to no end.

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, his body thrumming with want and frustration. He couldn’t get a grip. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was like James was everywhere in his head, in his chest.

Part of him didn’t want James to hold back anymore. He wanted James to do something reckless, something spontaneous. He wanted to feel the weight of James’s body against his, to have him take control, to let go of all the careful boundaries they had set.

The memory of the workshop flooded his mind. The way James had pulled his hair. Gently at first, but then with a sudden, sharp force that had made Regulus’s breath catch. His head had tilted back, and it had taken everything in him not to sink to his knees right then and let James do whatever he wanted. 

James had leaned in, his lips so close to Regulus’s ear that he could feel the heat of his breath ghosting across his skin. “I’m not done with you yet, Reggie.” The words had been soft, but the tone had been laced with a promise. A threat. Something that made Regulus’s heart skip a beat and his body tremble with longing.

But even in that moment, Regulus could feel the battle. James’s restraint was like a taut rope, pulling them both back from the brink. But Regulus could see it. He could feel it. James was just barely holding on.

His hand tightened on his hair again as he laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in frustration. He was torn. 

He knew he had to get a grip, but how could he? When James was so close, when the air between them was so charged, how could he not want to push him further? He needed James to stop holding back. He needed to feel that heat again, to feel James’s hand in his hair, to hear his voice drop to that rough, low growl.

But the more Regulus thought about it, the more he realized that maybe it wasn’t just about the touch or the power. It was about something deeper. Something real.

But for now, all he could do was watch James, watch him with that same damn look in his eyes like he wanted to get closer but was holding back just like Regulus was. And for some reason, that thought filled him with both dread and anticipation.

But even when he tried, Regulus couldn’t stop looking at him. 

Chapter Text

August 9th

The house had been buzzing with activity for the last few days. Euphemia was determined to host a flawless work party for Monty’s colleagues, and the preparation had taken on a life of its own. Baking, cleaning, rearranging furniture. She had all three boys running around like house-elves.

Regulus didn’t particularly mind. He appreciated the distraction. It kept his hands busy, even if his thoughts still wandered, circling back to James far more often than he’d like.

The duel had been days ago, but the tension between him and James hadn’t gone anywhere. If anything, it feels heavier now. Their shared looks lingered a little too long, and the space between them always seemed charged.

James was holding back, with every ounce of willpower he had. And Regulus wanted to push him even further. 

He wanted to see that restraint snap, to feel James’s hands on him again, his voice rough and low, his touch both commanding and careful. But even as he thought it, Regulus knew that James holding back meant something. Because this wasn’t just a game to him.

And that scared Regulus more than he cared to admit.

Still, the idea of pushing James, testing him was too tempting to resist.

Euphemia was in full hosting mode, orchestrating the final preparations for the party that night. She had everyone on a task: Sirius rearranging chairs, James sorting out decorations, and Regulus, much to his annoyance, roped into organizing the serving trays in the basement.

Sirius smirked when Euphemia suggested Regulus take James along to help. “I would, but I’m already drowning in all this ribbon,” Sirius said dramatically, waving a piece of gold streamers.

James raised a brow. “Convenient.”

“Isn’t it?” Sirius replied, grinning as he nudged James toward Regulus.

The basement was dim and cluttered, the air cooler than the rest of the house. Regulus descended the stairs first, taking in the dusty shelves and mismatched boxes stacked haphazardly along the walls.

“This should be fun,” Regulus said dryly, running a hand along the edge of a shelf.

James followed behind, closing the door with a soft thud. “Define ‘fun.’ Because I’m not seeing it.”

Regulus smirked, pulling a box from the shelf. “Oh, come on, Potter. A little manual labor won’t kill you.”

James rolled his eyes but moved to help, grabbing the other side of the box. Their hands brushed, and Regulus caught the way James’s jaw tightened at the contact.

“Relax,” Regulus said, his voice teasing. “I don’t bite. Unless you want me too.” 

“Good to know,” James replied, his tone tight.

They worked in relative silence for a while, though the air between them was anything but calm.

Regulus leaned over to reach a lower shelf, groaning softly as he shifted a particularly heavy box. He didn’t miss the way James froze, his eyes darting toward him before quickly looking away.

“Careful,” James said, his voice strained. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Touching concern,” Regulus quipped, straightening up and brushing dust from his hands. “Are you always this considerate?”

Regulus stepped closer to hand James a tray. Their fingers brushed again, and this time, Regulus didn’t pull away immediately.

James did, though, clearing his throat as he turned back to the shelves. “Let’s just get this done.”

Regulus tilted his head, watching him. “You’re tense,” he observed, his tone light but probing.

“I’m fine,” James said tightly, his back still turned.

Regulus smirked, stepping closer. He leaned against the shelf beside James, his shoulder brushing James’s arm. “You know, if you’re trying to keep your composure, you’re not doing a very good job.”

James froze, his fingers tightening around the tray in his hands. “Reggie—”

Regulus’s lips quirked at the nickname, his gaze dipping to James’s hand before meeting his eyes. “Yes, James?”

James exhaled sharply, stepping back. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?” Regulus asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.

James didn’t answer, instead turning back to the shelves with a muttered curse.

Regulus leaned back against the shelf, watching James sift through another stack of boxes. His movements were efficient, focused—of course, they were. James always approached everything with a quiet determination.

But today, that focus wavered.

Regulus was moving slower than usual, taking his time as he handed James items or asked for his help. He walked across the basement with an exaggerated sway in his step, shifting just enough to ensure James noticed.

“Merlin,” James muttered under his breath, setting a stack of trays on the nearest table with more force than necessary. “Do you have to walk like that, Reg?”

Regulus paused, a small smile tugging at his lips as he turned to face James. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Like what, Jamie?”

James let out a sharp breath and closed his eyes for a moment, as though collecting himself. “You know like what, Regulus.”

That made Regulus falter for half a second.

James hardly ever called him that. It came out low and rough, carrying a weight that sent a shiver down Regulus’s spine.

For once, James wasn’t looking at him. His focus was back on the shelves, his jaw clenched tightly.

Regulus blinked, recovering quickly. He took a deliberate step toward James, then another, moving with a quiet intensity that filled the room.

James’s back stiffened. He didn’t turn around, but Regulus knew he could feel him. Every step, every calculated shift of weight.

When Regulus stopped just behind him, close enough that James could probably feel the warmth of his breath, he smirked. “See something you like?”

James groaned, low and frustrated, and Regulus caught the way his hand tightened around the edge of the shelf.

“Don’t do that,” James said, his voice taut.

“Do what?” Regulus asked, his tone light and teasing as he leaned just a fraction closer.

James spun around suddenly, and Regulus froze. Their faces were mere inches apart, and the tension in the air was palpable.

“I’m serious, Reggie,” James said, his voice dipping into that low, almost-growling tone that sent heat pooling in Regulus’s chest.

It took every ounce of willpower for Regulus to hold his ground, to keep the smirk on his face. “You’re always serious, James. That’s the problem.”

James blinked at him, startled by the response, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

The silence stretched, heavy and charged, until James sighed and turned back to the shelf. “We’re never going to finish this at this rate,” he muttered.

Regulus stepped back with a small hum of satisfaction, watching as James reached for another stack of trays. When James stretched to grab something from the top shelf, Regulus couldn’t resist.

He stepped forward and placed a hand on James’s back as he reached. It was unnecessary, entirely deliberate, and when Regulus slipped it around to his hip, James’s body went rigid under his touch.

When James finally lowered the box, his knuckles white from gripping it too tightly, Regulus leaned closer. “Guess I’m rather good at providing moral support too.”

James didn’t respond, he just set the box on the table and ran a hand through his hair, mumbling something under his breath that didn’t sound very nice.

Regulus smirked, biting back a laugh as he turned back to the shelves. “You’re fun to work with, Jamie. Really.”

“One of these days, Reg. I swear I’m gonna—” James cut himself off, biting the inside of his cheek so hard it hurt.

Regulus smirked, tapping his fingers  against the shelf just in front of James’s face. He leaned in closer, his voice low and daring. “Gonna what, James?” He tilted his head, feigning curiosity as his tone turned into something far more deliberate. “Teach me a lesson? Put me in my place?”

James’s jaw tightened, his breathing shallow.

Regulus moved even closer, his lips barely moving as he murmured, “Punish me?”

That did it. James choked, his breath leaving in a sharp exhale. He felt it, the snap, the moment when the tight leash on his self-control gave way entirely.

Before Regulus could react, James spun to face him, stepping forward with enough force that Regulus instinctively backed up. James’s dark eyes were locked on him, his movements relentless as he advanced.

Regulus’s back hit the wall with a thud, and James was there, crowding into his space without hesitation. Their chests were almost flush together, the heat between them intense. Engulfing. 

Regulus’s breath hitched, his heart hammering in his chest as he stared up at James. His confidence faltered slightly, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t.

James’s hand came up, wrapping firmly around Regulus’s throat and pinning him against the wall. His grip wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t gentle either, and Regulus could feel the strength behind it. The pressure made his pulse thrum against James’s palm, and Regulus’s knees went weak.

“You’ve got a dangerous mouth on you, love,” James growled, his grip firm. “Keep it up, and I’ll have to find something else to keep it busy.” His fingers flexed, tightening just enough to make Regulus suck in a sharp breath, a small noise escaping his throat that sounded far too much like surrender.

James leaned in without meaning to, like his body was moving before his brain could catch up. Regulus’s head tipped back, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut at the pressure, the power. It had everything spinning, and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how much he wanted James to tighten his grip. Just a little more. 

James moved closer for one dizzying, electrifying second, Regulus was sure James was going to kiss him—

“James! Regulus!” Euphemia’s voice rang out from upstairs, sharp and cheerful. “Hurry up, boys! Guests will be here in an hour!”

Regulus let out a low whine of disappointment, his throat vibrating beneath James’s hand as his eyes blinked open. His chest heaved, breaths unsteady as he looked up at James, who had gone stock-still.

James swore softly under his breath, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to step back. The loss of contact left Regulus feeling untethered, his knees weak as he slumped slightly against the wall.

Without another word, James grabbed all the boxes in one smooth motion and turned on his heel, heading for the stairs. His movements were sharp, purposeful, as though carrying the weight of his restraint along with the trays.

Regulus stayed where he was, his chest rising and falling as he stared after James. His throat felt warm where James’s hand had been, and his legs trembled slightly as he pressed back against the wall for support.

A slow, wicked smile curved across his lips.

He was getting James to break. 

Tonight. 

James emerged from the basement first, the boxes stacked precariously in his arms, but his appearance was what drew attention. His hair was a mess, his shirt slightly wrinkled, and the flush on his cheeks betrayed more than just exertion.

Sirius, lounging near the kitchen with a mug in hand, was the first to notice. He arched a brow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “My, James, don’t you look thoroughly disheveled.”

James shot him a dark glare as he strode toward the table, his movements brisk and sharp as he set the boxes down with more force than necessary. “This is your fault,” he hissed under his breath, pointedly avoiding Sirius’s knowing gaze.

Sirius’s smirk widened, clearly relishing the moment. “You’re welcome,” he drawled, taking a slow sip of his drink.

Before James could retort, the sound of footsteps on the basement stairs made him falter. Regulus appeared, his composure mostly intact but just slightly off. His usually pristine hair was slightly out of place, and he tugged at the cuffs of his shirt as if to center himself.

Sirius leaned back against the counter, his smirk deepening. “You alright there, Reggie?”

Regulus’s expression didn’t waver. He smoothed down his clothes with a shrug, his tone calm, almost bored. “Couldn’t be better, brother. Why?”

Sirius snorted, rolling his eyes. James visibly tensed at the sound of Regulus’s voice, his hands gripping the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Alright, enough standing about,” Euphemia called from the doorway, her voice brisk but warm. She gave the boys a quick once-over, her sharp eyes catching the tension between them. “Boys—go on and get yourselves ready. Guests will be arriving soon, and you all look like you’ve been wrestling with gnomes.”

“Yes, Mum,” Sirius replied with mock obedience, shooting a sly glance at James and Regulus as he left the room.

James didn’t say a word, his jaw tightening as he brushed past Regulus on his way upstairs. The air between them still buzzed with tension, and Regulus’s lips curled into a faint smile as he followed, his expression cool and composed once more.

                  *   ~   *   ~   *

James adjusts his robes for the third time in five minutes, tugging at the collar and muttering to himself. He’s already refused his mother’s pleas to “tame that mess of hair,” and his refusal is evident in the untamed waves stubbornly sticking up in every direction. His robes, however, fit him perfectly. Tailored to show off his broad shoulders and trim waist, the deep navy fabric catching the light just enough to hint at the definition of his chest. 

Euphemia had insisted, and now, standing at the top of the stairs, James realizes she was right. The robes are sharp, sophisticated, and nothing like his usual disheveled attire.

But none of it compares to him.

Regulus is halfway across the room, and James feels like the air has been knocked out of his lungs. His robes, predominantly black with subtle emerald accents, cling to him in all the right places, accentuating his narrow waist, long legs, and the sharp angles of his shoulders. 

The cut is sleek and sophisticated, with an elegance that’s impossible to ignore. His skin glows under the soft light, and the green accents bring out the stormy depths of his gray eyes. A single black curl falls perfectly over his forehead, brushing against his lashes, and James has to grip the bannister to steady himself.

He’s vaguely aware of Sirius nearby, who looks equally striking in deep charcoal robes with silver detailing. Sirius’s easy confidence lights up the room, and Remus, standing off to the side, looks like he might combust on the spot. His eyes trail Sirius shamelessly, his usual composure entirely absent.

But James’s focus stays locked on Regulus.

Regulus turns, catching James’s gaze, and his breath hitches, though his composed expression betrays nothing. The sight of James in formal dress robes, properly put together for once, nearly stops him in his tracks. He looks so different from the boy Regulus is used to, all messy hair and slouchy shirts.

Now, James looks regal, commanding even. His unruly hair somehow only adds to the effect, an effortless charm that Regulus can’t tear his eyes from.

Regulus’s gaze lingers, drinking in every detail: the way the robes fit snugly across James’s chest, the subtle movement of his hands. Calloused and strong and the quiet confidence in his stance. The deep, muted colors James is wearing set off the warmth in his hazel eyes, making them seem brighter, more golden. 

Regulus feels a flush rise in his chest, spreading like fire, but he forces himself to remain perfectly composed. On the outside, at least. Inside, his mind is racing, barely keeping up with the way his heart stutters against his ribs.

Merlin help me.

Regulus steels himself, smoothing his own robes and straightening his posture before turning back toward James. 

“Someone finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Regulus murmurs when James approaches, his tone low enough to be just for him. His eyes trail deliberately down the length of James, lingering on his chest, then lower, taking in every detail as if committing it to memory. “I’d say it was worth the wait.”

James swallows hard, the heat rising in his cheeks, but he manages a smirk in return. “Nice robes,” he says, his voice rougher than he intended. His eyes betray him, flicking down, “Green suits you.”

Regulus steps closer, his smile widening. His pulse is hammering, but his voice remains smooth. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Potter.” He leans in slightly, the rich scent of James’s cologne brushing against him as he adds, his lips grazing the shell of James’s ear, “You clean up nicely yourself.”

James clears his throat, stepping back slightly and fumbling for something to say. Regulus watches the red flush creep up his neck, biting back a smirk. He feels the heat of James’s attention lingering even as Sirius calls him over to meet someone, pulling him away.

As he disappears into the crowd, Regulus allows himself a moment to breathe, his heart still racing. James should not be allowed to look like that. 

James, desperately trying to latch onto his sanity, retreats to the edge of the room, where Remus is nursing a drink and looking equally out of sorts. “You alright there, mate?” James asks, his tone strained.

Remus huffs a laugh, glancing toward Sirius, who is now charming a small group of guests with his trademark grin. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

James’s gaze shifts back to Regulus, “Nope,” James mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Not even close.”

Remus raises a brow, following James’s gaze. “I take it this is a problem for you, too?”

“Big problem.”

“Well,” Remus says dryly, raising his glass, “welcome to my world.”

Across the room, Euphemia glances toward her son, a smile tugging at her lips as she makes her way over to introduce him to a few guests. “James, stop skulking and come say hello,” she calls out, snapping him out of his trance.

James sighs, straightening his robes and plastering on a polite smile as he steps forward. His eyes meet Regulus’s again, and for a moment, the crowd and noise around them fade away.

Whatever tonight holds, James knows he’s in for a very, very long evening.

James has been dragged into his mother’s orbit, where she’s introduced him to what feels like half the Wizarding world. And to his credit, James is handling it well, or at least he looks like he is. He smiles, shakes hands, and laughs in all the right places, but his focus keeps drifting, tethered to one person across the room.

He catches sight of Reggie again, and it feels like a punch to the gut every time. Regulus moves through the crowd with the effortless grace of someone born to this kind of environment, his sharp features softened by just enough charm to keep the guests enchanted. His laugh, low and melodic, cuts through the room, and James swears it sends a shiver down his spine every time. 

James’s eyes trail over him again, lingering too long, and his stomach tightens in a way he can’t quite describe.

“Mate, I really shouldn’t have to keep telling you this,” Sirius’s voice cuts through his haze. “You’re staring.”

James snaps his head around, his ears burning. “I am not.”

“Oh, but you are,” Sirius says, smirking as he sips his drink. He glances across the room to where Regulus is chatting with Euphemia and a few guests. “And you’re not even subtle about it.”

James glares at him. “And you’re one to talk? You’ve been staring at Remus all night.”

Sirius doesn’t even flinch. “Yeah, but Remus likes it,” he says with a grin, shooting a quick glance at where Remus is standing by the drinks table, watching Sirius. “What’s your excuse?”

James scowls, tugging at his collar like it’s suddenly too tight. “Fuck off, Pads. I’m truly doing my best.”

Sirius just laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good luck with that, mate. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, and he knows it.”

Before James can retort, his mother calls him over to another group of guests, and he’s forced to put on his best charming smile. He goes through the motions, answering questions and making small talk, but the back of his neck burns under the weight of Regulus’s gaze. He feels it before he even looks up.

Regulus is watching him. From across the room, those stormy gray eyes are locked on James with a focus so intense it feels like a touch. 

Regulus doesn’t know whether to curse James or collapse. He feels the heat rising in his chest, blooming in a way that’s entirely unfamiliar. He grips the nearly empty glass in his hand to ground himself, but his eyes refuse to look anywhere else. 

James looks confident, poised, and devastatingly handsome. And Regulus… he is not okay. 

Still, Regulus doesn’t back down. Instead, he holds James’s gaze, his lips curving into the barest hint of a smirk as his lashes flutter just enough to make James’s brain stop working all together. 

“Merlin, I’m so fucked,” James mutters under his breath, grabbing a drink from a passing tray and downing half of it in one go.

Regulus sees James’s focus falter, his expression shifting between charm and disarray as the guests chatter around him. He’s nervous. 

The realization makes something sharp and fond twist in Regulus’s chest. James Potter, so naturally confident, is fumbling and for him.

Just for him. 

James excuses himself and makes his way to the drinks table. Regulus tracks his every movement, his hand clenching into a fist as James grabs two drinks and starts toward him for the second time this evening.

“Here,” James says, holding out a glass as he reaches him. His voice is gruffer than usual, and he clears his throat. “Figured you might need another drink after all this.”

Regulus takes the glass, their fingers brushing for the briefest moment, his lips curl into a faint smile. “You’re holding up well tonight,” Regulus says, his tone light but laced with something warmer, something deeper. “Charming everyone in sight. Very impressive.”

James snorts, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Yeah, well, it’s a skill.”

Regulus steps closer, his smirk softening into something almost playful, “You’re thinking too loudly.”

“I always do around you,” James replies before he can stop himself.

Regulus turns, ever so slightly. His expression is hard to read—somewhere between amused and… vulnerable.

“Don’t say things like that,” he says quietly.

“Why?” James asks, his voice equally soft, almost hoarse. “Because it’s true?”

Regulus doesn’t answer. 

His eyes search James’s face, slow and deliberate, gaze pausing at his mouth just long enough to make James’s breath hitch. Then, nothing. Regulus steps back, just half a pace, like the floor burned beneath his feet.

Later the warmth of the alcohol is starting to settle in James’ chest, a light buzz making everything seem a little brighter, a little funnier.

Remus leans in next to him, his quiet voice pulling him from his trance. “James, I swear, if you keep staring at him like that, you’re going to burn a hole in the poor bloke’s robes.”

James chuckles, rolling his eyes as he glances sideways at him, “Can you blame me? Look at him.”

Remus glances over at Regulus, who is effortlessly the center of attention, his every move drawing people in. “I mean, I get it,” Remus says with a sigh. “But—”

At that exact moment, Sirius bends down to grab something from the floor, knocking over his own wine glass in the process. The wine splashes across the floor with a dramatic splatter.

Remus opens his mouth to say something, but he cuts off mid-sentence, his eyes trained on Sirius following his every movement. 

James laughs, shaking his head, some of the tension in his body starting to release in the midst of the distraction. “You’re just as hopeless as I am, you know.”

Remus stares after Sirius with wide eyes. “If not worse.”

“I think he’s worse,” James chuckles, nodding at Sirius, “But I suppose that’s a matter of opinion.”

They both watch Sirius with amusement, but James’s eyes can’t help but flick back to Regulus every now and then. Each time, it’s like a physical pull, like Regulus’s very presence is magnetic, and James just can’t fight it anymore.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop looking?” Remus teases, bumping his arm. 

“Shut up,” James mutters under his breath, but it’s too late. His gaze slides back to Regulus again, only to find him biting into a small pastry topped with whipped cream. For a moment, everything else in the room blurs, and James is completely locked on the way the cream lands on Regulus’s lip, a stray smudge marking his cheek.

His mind immediately imagines something else coating his pretty face, his pretty fucking mouth, marking him. It’s enough to make every molecule of his body run feverish. 

And then, almost as if he’s aware of exactly where James was, Regulus’s gaze flickers toward him.

His lips curl into that teasing grin as he wipes the cream off his cheek, tauntingly, painfully slow, and licks it off his thumb.

James’s mind frays, his thoughts scattering as he watches Regulus, those stormy gray eyes locked on him like a challenge. His whole body tightens, heat pooling low in his stomach, flipping and twisting as Regulus’s lips. Those perfect, sinful fucking lips wrap around his thumb.

It’s deliberate. Intimate. And James can hardly breathe.

Merlin help him, because all he can think about is Regulus: flushed, breathless, completely unraveled beneath him. He wants every inch of that pale, perfect skin covered in him, painted and dripping. Wants it smeared on those elegant cheekbones, those sharp features, those maddening lips.

Fuck, those lips.

James’s jaw tightens as he forces himself to breathe, to move, to do something other than stand there like he’s just been hit with a Stunning Spell. But his legs feel like lead, his thoughts consumed, his pulse thundering in his ears.

Regulus tilts his head, a faint flicker of amusement crossing his features, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. And he does.

It’s all too much. James feels his pulse hammering in his ears, in his fucking throat. Regulus doesn’t look away, doesn’t stop, just keeps his gaze steady on James, that fucking smirk never leaving his face.

This is going to ruin me, James thinks, and before he knows it, he’s downing his glass, hoping the cool liquid will somehow bring him back to reality.

The glass hits the table with a little more force than he intends, “Merlin,” James mutters under his breath, already feeling the effects of the wine buzzing in his veins.

After a moment of standing there, trying to calm himself, James decided he needed air. Desperately. 

Or maybe a fucking wank. Not that that would be appropriate at a time like this. 

But the world despised him, and his mother had a way of always needing him for something. He’d barely taken a breath before she had him in yet another discussion about business and networking. It was a necessary part of the evening, he knew, but he could hardly focus with the buzz in his system and the way his thoughts kept drifting back to Regulus.

Fucking Regulus.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of grinning and nodding, James excused himself and made his way to the far corner of the room where Sirius and Remus were chatting. Sirius surprisingly not latched to Remus’ side. 

Sirius leaned against the wall, taking a sip from his glass. “Tired of being dragged around by Mum?”

James sighed dramatically. “You know how it is. Gotta play the part.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at James. “Right, of course. Because you’re just too busy to entertain your mother’s guests.”

James smirked, the edge of his annoyance slipping into his voice. “Well, if the guests could stop talking about broomstick designs for five minutes, maybe I wouldn’t have to avoid them so much.”

Sirius chuckled, looking much too mischievous for James’s liking, “Speaking of avoiding things, have you been avoiding someone, mate? Reggie, maybe? Though you’ve been staring at him all night like you wanna jump him.”

James immediately glanced toward Regulus, who was standing in the middle of a group, his laughter echoing lightly through the room. Regulus was holding a glass in one hand, looking effortlessly charming in a way that made James’s chest tighten. 

“Shut up, Sirius,” James muttered, trying to hide his discomfort behind a laugh, though his voice betrayed him, a little too tight. 

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Uh-huh.” He nudged Remus, who was still watching James with that soft, knowing look. “I think James here is a bit smitten, don’t you?”

Remus added with a smirk, “More than smitten, Pads. He looks like he’s on the verge of collapse.”

James rolled his eyes, the warmth from the wine making his head feel a bit fuzzy but nowhere near as bad as when he would drink Firewhiskey. He took another sip from his glass, trying to appear unaffected, though it was getting harder to do so.

James had barely managed to keep his cool throughout the evening, but now, with his fourth drink in hand and the wine buzzing in his system, his grip on his composure was starting to slip. He’d been trying to focus on the guests, to charm them, to make his mother proud. But that wasn’t quite such an easy task.

Especially not when Regulus was now standing with a man who had to be at least twenty-one, one of the younger men who worked alongside Fleamont. He was laughing at something Regulus had said.

James’s jaw clenched. He could feel something coil tightly in his chest. There was something in the way the man was looking at Regulus, too intimate, too lingering, something James didn’t like.

And the worst part? The worst part was the way the guy touched Regulus. Just lightly on the arm, a friendly gesture, but James’s heart skipped a beat. He hated it. He hated how the man’s eyes traveled down Regulus’s body in a way that was most definitely not innocent.

He felt the words rise up in him, angry and unformed, but he couldn’t say them. Not yet. Instead, he just stood there, frozen, the wine starting to cloud his judgment.

“Relax, mate,” Sirius said, resting a hand on James’s shoulder. “You look one step away from hexing him. I’m not sure mum would be too happy about that.”

James gritted his teeth, his fingers tightening around his glass. “I don’t like the way he’s looking at Reggie,” he muttered, his voice low but tense.

Sirius laughed, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Well, I don’t like the way you’re looking at Reggie.”

James shot him a glare, but it didn’t last long. Sirius was always good at lightening the mood. Still, his eyes couldn’t stop flicking back to the conversation between Regulus and the man, and when he saw the guy lean forward just a little too closely, his hand trailing up Regulus’s arm again, James nearly broke the glass.

His body was stiff with a barely contained frustration, but it was more than that. It was jealousy. He could feel it tightening in his chest, and it made him burn with something that was part desire, part possessiveness.

Sirius must’ve noticed the shift in James’s expression, because he let go of his arm and gave him a knowing look. “Okay, I see what you mean,” he said, his voice softer now. “You can go now. Just don’t do anything stupid.” 

“Me?” James smirked, though his chest was tight. He forced a breath and straightened up, plastering his most charming smile on his face. 

James crossed the room in a few quick strides, his eyes locked on Regulus, who had just laughed at something the man had said. The sound twisted in James’s stomach, a sharp knot of irritation settling deep in his gut. Regulus’s laugh, rare as it was, shouldn’t be wasted on the likes of him. 

By the time he reached them, the man was still speaking, looking entirely too pleased with himself. James slid in effortlessly, making his presence known. He wrapped his free hand around Regulus’s waist, pulling him in closer, his fingers pressing into the soft fabric of his robes, holding him tighter than was necessary. Regulus raised an eyebrow but didn’t pull away.

“James Potter,” he said smoothly, giving the older man a nod, his voice dripping with the kind of calm assurance that James couldn’t ignore. “And you are?”

Regulus felt James’s hand tighten on his waist, and a sharp rush went  through him. He didn’t let it show, keeping his expression calm, almost disinterested, but the heat of James’s grip was grounding.

The man, caught off guard but not wanting to appear rattled, flashed James a polite, if not slightly smug, smile. “Damian Faulkner,” he replied, extending his hand in greeting. “We were just talking about—”

“Talking about what?” James interrupted, glancing down at Regulus, who met his eyes with that infuriating, knowing look. It made James want to either kiss him senseless or throttle him.

James’s fingers flexed against his waist, his grip almost harsh now, and Regulus leaned into it ever so slightly, as if to remind him that he didn’t mind being held this way. Quite the opposite, really.

“Oh, just this and that.” Regulus said with a shrug. 

“I see,” James said, his voice steady but the possessiveness threading through his words. He was determined not to let this guy, this Damian bloke, get too comfortable with Regulus. The way he’d touched him… No, that wasn’t happening again.

Not if James had anything to say about it. And he did. 

Damian leaned in a little too close, his voice dropping low as he asked Regulus, “Have you considered the changes to the broomstick designs for next year’s lineup? It might be worth taking a look at the specs Fleamont is working on. Could be some interesting crossovers between that and our equipment.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have to ask him, though I’ve heard Fleamont’s designs can be a bit… experimental. Still, his work is brilliant. What do you think?”

James clenched his jaw, trying to focus on the conversation. He could feel the tension simmering in his chest, but he kept his voice steady, forcing a smile that was far too polite.

“Oh, absolutely,” Damian said, still way too interested in Regulus, his gaze lingering far too long. The way his eyes scanned Regulus, the way his hand brushed against his arm again. James could barely hold himself back from grabbing it and shoving it away. 

Regulus, seemingly unaware of James’s growing frustration, turned his head slightly toward him. “What do you think, James? You must have a good sense of Fleamonts design style.”

James blinked, dragging himself out of his spiraling thoughts. “Er—yeah. Sure. It’s… nice.” The words came out flat, and even James winced at how uninspired he sounded.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “Nice?” he repeated, a hint of amusement in his tone. “How delightfully descriptive.”

James forced a tight smile. “What can I say? I’m a man of few words.”

Damian chuckled, his voice low and smooth. “A rare quality in a Potter, I’m sure,” he said, giving James a pointed look.

James swallowed, the heat in his chest flaring. He could feel Damian’s gaze on him, probing, as if daring him to react. 

Regulus seemed entirely unfazed, leaning ever so slightly closer to Damian as the man launched into some comment about the intricate woodwork of the room. James barely heard it, his attention snapping instead to the subtle shift in Regulus’s posture. The way his body seemed to gravitate toward Damian without a second thought.

His hand, almost of its own accord, tightened on Regulus’s waist. Not gently. The pressure was firm, bordering on rough, his fingers curling into the fabric of Regulus’s robes. He could feel the heat of Regulus’s body through the fine material, the solid weight of him under his grip, and it only made the tightness in his chest worsen.

Regulus stilled, his gaze flicking down to James’s hand for the briefest moment before tilting his head to look at him. “Everything alright, James?” he asked, his voice quiet.

James’s jaw tightened. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone sharper than intended.

Regulus’s lips curved ever so slightly. His sharp eyes glinted, the faintest hint of satisfaction flickering across his face as he turned his attention back to Damian. If he noticed James’s frustration, or, worse, if he was enjoying it, he gave no indication.

But James didn’t miss the faint flush creeping up the back of Regulus’s neck.

Regulus looked back at Damian unbothered, but James could feel the shift. He was playing with him. On purpose.

He could feel his temper fraying at the edges.

But then, Regulus did something that broke James.

Without even looking, Regulus leaned in just a little bit closer, his body brushing against James’s, and he let out a soft laugh. But there was something in his tone. A teasing edge. He tilted his head toward Damian and let his fingers drag lazily over his glass, then reached up to touch his own lip, wiping at it almost unnecessarily. He caught James’s eye as he did so, that familiar, knowing smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

James felt his breath catch. Regulus wiped his lip again and then, with slow movements looked up at James, his fingers gently pulling his lip down before releasing it completely. 

That was it.

“You and I need to have a word,” James said, his voice low and quiet. 

But Regulus… Regulus was making this worse. He gave James one last, almost maddeningly innocent smile before pulling away from his grasp for a second, eyes still locked on him. 

“Oh? And what about?” he asked, though his voice was already laced with teasing.

He didn’t resist when James moved to firmly guide him away, but there was that glint in his eyes, that quiet confidence that seemed to taunt James, making everything harder. 

They passed through the crowd, James’s grip unyielding as he gently led Regulus toward a quieter corner of the other room. 

“What’s this about, Potter?” Regulus asked dryly, leaning back against the wall. 

James growled low, the frustration building to an unbearable point. “This is about you bloody flaunting yourself around, driving me up the wall in the process.”

Regulus’s laugh was soft, dangerous, his lips curving into a smirk. So easy to rile up, he thought.

“That sounds like a you problem, James. I’m enjoying my night.” His words were sharp, but inside, he was reveling in the way James’s eyes blazed, how his entire focus was locked onto him.

James’s patience broke. His hands were on Regulus before he even realized it, grabbing his arm and pulling him close, nearly chest to chest.

“Quit toying with me, Regulus,” James said through clenched teeth. His fingers dug into Regulus’s arm, a reminder of how little control he had left.

Regulus smirked, all too aware of the effect his teasing was having on James. His lips curled in that familiar, infuriating way. 

“Get over yourself, Potter,” he said, voice dripping with challenge. “You’re the one who’s worked up.“

James’s pulse quickened, and he bit down the urge to lash out. “I’m not the one making all the bloody moves,” he said, his words low.

Regulus’s smile widened. “Oh, I know. You’re just trying to keep that control of yours, aren’t you?” He leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing James’s ear. “Too bad it’s slipping away.”

The words, the breath, the closeness, it was all too much. 

Without another word, he grabbed Regulus by the back of the head, knowing the exact effect it had on him, fingers tangling in his hair, and pulled him backward. Regulus’s eyes widened slightly at the movement so sudden and forceful that it made his breath hitch. 

For a second, Regulus froze, but the momentary shock gave way to something else. A breathy, almost needy exhale that was like a spark in James’s blood. 

“Don’t… don’t think you can control me, Potter,” Regulus managed to breathe out, voice already thick with want.

But the desperate edge in his voice contradicted his words. James couldn’t resist. Really, he couldn’t.

He leaned forward, nose trailing along Regulus’s exposed throat, feeling the heat of his skin under his lips. Regulus’s sharp intake of breath was music to James’s ears, and he let his lips brush over the skin just below Regulus’s ear.

Regulus’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and a soft, broken whine escaped him, his lips parting. His breath was shallow now, the tension between them becoming almost unbearable. 

James kept his fingers in Regulus’s hair, pulling his head back further, feeling the sharp line of his jaw as it tilted upward. His pulse raced as he watched Regulus’s chest rise and fall with every gasping breath. 

He finally let his voice drop to a husky whisper. “Are you sure about that, baby?” 

The word hit Regulus like a spell. His entire body reacted, a tremor running through him as his breath hitched audibly. He loved it. Loved how James said it low, possessive, and dripping with heat.

He bit his lip, trying to suppress the shudder that coursed through him, but there was no hiding how much he wanted this. 

Regulus tried to say something, but the words died in his throat when James yanked harder, unable to stop himself from sinking his teeth into the tender skin of Regulus’s neck. Scraping the tender skin there.

Regulus gasped sharply, his whole body jerking in reaction. He crumbled beneath James’s touch, a choked moan tearing its way out of him.

“James,” he whimpered, the sound breaking on his lips. 

James’s pulse skipped at the sound, his own restraint fraying. The way Regulus whispered his name, breathless and needy, was nearly his undoing. It was all too much, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from grinning, a wicked, satisfied smile tugging at his lips.

“You like it rough, don’t you, baby?” James’s words were heavy with meaning, his voice almost a growl as he pressed closer, savoring the way Regulus trembled under his touch.

Regulus’s eyes fluttered, lids heavy with desire, and a soft, desperate keen slipped past his lips. His hips moved involuntarily against James, the movement not quite controlled, as if he couldn’t help himself. 

James bit at the juncture of his neck again as he lowered his voice, dark and commanding. “Answer me, Reggie. Do you like it?”

Regulus’s eyes nearly rolled back, pupils blown wide, but he listened. His breath hitched again, and with a soft, broken sound, he whispered, “Yes.”

The word was like a match to the fire between them. James smirked, leaning in close their lips nearly brushing, “Good.”

Finally, when James felt he had pushed Regulus to the edge, when he knew that he had completely unraveled him, he pulled away, breathing hard, watching Regulus’s lips chase after his, desperate for more.

It took everything. Every morsel of strength, every fiber of his being to pull back. Especially when he saw just what Regulus looked like. 

Wrecked. His hair disheveled, his chest rising and falling with the raggedness of his breaths, his skin flushed with heat. His eyes were heavy-lidded, still hazy with desire.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, Reggie,” James murmured, voice low and teasing. “You earned it.”

With that, he turned, walking away, leaving Regulus standing there, on the edge, utterly undone.

Regulus stood still for a moment, his body still shaking from the intensity of it all. He swallowed hard, trying to collect himself, but his chest was still tight with want, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of James’s touch, that insatiable pull that had completely unraveled him.

But the night was far from over. 

And Regulus was determined to get James to shatter. He could practically feel James' string of self control about to break. 

James, however, was insufferably smug as he stepped back into the sitting room, the sounds of laughter and conversation filling the air, a self-satisfied smirk played on his lips.

The wine from earlier still hummed in his veins, amplifying his confidence and heightening his senses. No matter how much he tried to focus on the evening’s pleasantries, though, he couldn’t escape the phantom sensation of Regulus’s skin against his lips or the faint taste that lingered when he bit his neck.

Euphemia waved him over, and James obliged, schooling his expression into something far less wolfish as he approached his mother.

“There’s my boy,” she greeted warmly, placing a hand on his arm. “Have you been mingling? You know how much your father loves a good bit of networking.”

James grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “You mean he loves you doing the networking while he stands near the cider bowl and avoids the whole thing.”

Euphemia laughed, her eyes sparkling with affection. “That’s your father for you.” She glanced over her shoulder, where Fleamont was indeed standing by the cider, nodding politely at a guest without a hint of real engagement. “Do me a favor, darling, and at least pretend to be useful. Your friends can wait a few minutes.”

“Anything for you, Mum,” James said, planting a quick kiss on her cheek before turning to scan the room.

His eyes landed on Sirius first, who was stationed near the fireplace, a glass of something dark in his hand and a gleeful smirk plastered across his face. Next to him, Regulus stood perfectly composed, or so it seemed. His back was straight, his head held high, and his mouth curved in that familiar, unreadable expression that could pass for polite disinterest.

But James could see through it. Regulus’s shoulders were just a touch too stiff, his hands clasped in front of him like he was physically restraining himself. He was trying to keep it together, but James knew exactly how close to the edge he’d left him.

Then Regulus turned, locking eyes with James from across the room. It wasn’t a stare. It was a challenge. James felt it like a spark, searing hot and impossible to ignore.

“Still staring, are we?” Sirius’s voice cut through his thoughts.

James jerked his gaze away, finding Sirius now standing beside him, his smirk practically gleaming. “I must say, I’ve never seen him quite so… what’s the word? Shaken.” He said, nodding at Regulus. 

James smirked, but before he could say anything, his attention was drawn to movement out of the corner of his eye. Regulus had straightened his robes, adjusted his cuffs, and begun a deliberate, measured stroll across the room.

Right to the group that just so happened to include Damian Faulkner.

James’s grip on his glass tightened, the sharp edge of the crystal biting into his palm. Damian said something low, leaning closer to Regulus, and James’s blood heated, his vision narrowing as if the rest of the room had dimmed.

“Take a breath,” Sirius murmured, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You’re about five seconds from shattering that glass, and I don’t think Mum wants blood on her rug.”

James exhaled sharply, loosening his grip with effort. “He’s doing this on purpose,” he muttered, eyes fixed on Regulus, who now laughed softly at something Damian said.

“Obviously,” Sirius said, his smirk widening. “But if you let it get to you, he wins. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, do you?”

James didn’t answer, his jaw clenching as he watched Regulus tilt his head ever so slightly toward Damian, his body language deceptively casual.

“He’s good, I’ll give him that,” Sirius added, sounding more amused than anything. “But you’re better, mate.”

James took another steadying breath, forcing himself to relax. He wasn’t about to let Damian, or Regulus, for that matter, see how deeply they were getting under his skin.

He straightened his robes and plastered on his most charming smile. “You’re right,” he said smoothly, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. 

“Good,” Sirius quipped with a wink before melting back into the crowd, leaving James to stew in his frustration and James Potter was done playing fair.

He moved around the party, effortless in his charm as he chatted with guests, his confidence growing with every flicker of Regulus’s attention. And oh, James noticed it. Every glance that lingered too long, every moment Regulus straightened his posture as James moved past, was a tell.

Regulus couldn’t seem to keep his eyes to himself, he shamelessly roved over James’s body. His gaze hit and heavy and all too tempting. James couldn’t be more pleased if he tried.

Though James was holding himself together with the patience of a fucking saint. Barely. Every look, every word that fell from Regulus’s lips, every subtle shift of his body sent him teetering closer to the edge.

He wanted Regulus to break. Wanted to watch him come undone, to see him crack beneath the weight of whatever this was between them. And fuck, he wanted to be the one to do it.

Part of him, the part not governed by logic or restraint, wanted to drag Regulus away. To back him into the nearest empty room and take him apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but raw, breathless need. Another part, just as wild, wanted to do it here. Right in the middle of the party, with no care for who saw. Just push Regulus against the wall, fists in his stupidly perfect robes, and maul him until there was nothing left to hide.

But James had always been a patient man. And patience made the reward so much sweeter.

The first strike was light. As James passed by Regulus near the drinks table, he let his fingers ghost over the small of Regulus’s back, lingering just long enough for it to be intentional. Regulus’s back straightened instantly, a faint hitch in his breath betraying him. James smirked but said nothing, continuing his conversation with Euphemia as if nothing had happened.

Later, he found another opportunity. Near the hallway, in the press of moving bodies, he brushed past Regulus again, this time his hand settling on Regulus’s hip. Just for a moment. Just long enough to drag his thumb over the curve of it, to feel the way Regulus tensed, the way his breath picked up.

“Enjoying the party, Reggie?” James murmured, leaning in close.

Regulus turned his head, composed as ever, but his voice was tight. “Of course. Your mother does love a spectacle.”

James chuckled lowly, a sound meant only for Regulus to hear. “She does, doesn’t she?” He let his gaze linger, drinking in the faint color dusting Regulus’s cheeks before stepping away. He didn’t miss the way Regulus’s grip tightened around his wineglass, knuckles turning white.

And then came the one that would tip the scales. James had the upper hand now, he wasn’t letting it go. Regulus was going to be the one crumbling this time. 

He stood near the fireplace, his gaze lost in the flames, posture poised, but James knew better. He knew tension when he saw it. Knew that Regulus was holding himself together just as much as James was.

The angle was perfect, just enough shadow to obscure them, just enough noise to mask his approach.

James didn’t rush. He moved slowly, deliberately, slipping behind Regulus with the ease of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. He leaned in, his breath ghosting against the shell of Regulus’s ear before his lips brushed against the curve of his neck.

And then he bit down.

Not hard, just enough. Enough to hear the quiet, almost choked inhale as Regulus shuddered, his fingers clenching around his glass for balance.

James took his time. Let his tongue flicker out, soothing the mark he’d left, tasting him. Sweet, soft, like something James could drown himself in if he wasn’t careful. It was intoxicating, that flavor, that feeling. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

He wanted more. And more. And fucking more.

James reached up, threading his fingers through Regulus’s hair, tugging just enough to make Regulus’s lashes flutter, his breath shaky.

He lingered, his mouth still so close, just barely brushing against that delicate, heated skin as he murmured, “Careful, Reg. You’re slipping.”

And then, like nothing had happened, he stepped away.

The loss of contact was abrupt, leaving Regulus standing there, his composure cracking just a little more with every passing second.

For the last hour, James had been relentless. The touches, the teasing, the whispered words that left Regulus burning from the inside out. And then he had the audacity to just walk away. Like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t left Regulus in absolute shambles.

Regulus could still feel it. The dull ache where James’s teeth had sunk into his skin, a lingering sting that only made him crave more. The phantom press of James’s lips, his breath warm and taunting against his throat. And worst of all, the word.

Baby.

Murmured low and possessive. It sounded like something filthy and soft, something that made his stomach twist and his hands shake.

James had pushed him all night. Now it was Regulus’s turn.

He barely heard the conversation happening around him, his mind caught in the deep pull of want that made it impossible to think of anything else. Not when James was standing there in those sinfully tailored robes, the fabric hugging his body in ways that made Regulus’s mouth go dry. His sleeves were tight around his forearms, pulling taut over muscle, the veins in his hands prominent as he held his drink with an ease that sent Regulus’s thoughts spiraling into dangerous territory.

Regulus needed to do something. He needed to get James to crack. 

James’s focus zeroed in on Regulus across the room. He saw it happen, saw the precise moment Regulus leaned into Damian, close enough that their bodies nearly touched. Regulus’s hand reached out, fingers curling deliberately around Damian’s bicep, tugging him just a fraction closer. Then, with that infuriating smirk still curling his lips, Regulus tilted his head and whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, it made Damian laugh, loud, easy, and charmed.

That was it.

James didn’t think. He didn’t care that the party wasn’t over, that there were still guests lingering in corners. He barely registered Regulus starting to move away from Damian, as if he had already finished his little performance. But it wasn’t enough.

James was already across the room, his steps purposeful and quick. He reached Regulus just as he turned, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him away from the crowd with a force that left no room for argument.

“James—”

“Not a word.”

He dragged Regulus out of the main room, down the hall, and into Fleamonts workshop. The heavy door slammed shut behind them, echoing in the quiet space. Regulus barely had a moment to catch his breath before James shoved him back against the door, pinning him there with a hand braced beside his head and his body crowding close.

“What the hell was that?” James’s voice was rough, his breath uneven as his eyes burned with anger.

Regulus felt the heat of James’s body, the weight of his fury, and it sent a sharp thrill through him. He had him. 

He felt the weight of James’s gaze, dragging over him like a touch, drinking him in, memorizing every shaky breath. He should have been smug. He was smug. He’d won. He had James breaking apart, unraveling at the seams because of him.

But he hadn’t accounted for how it would feel to be looked at like this. Like James wanted to take him apart piece by piece. Like he wanted to own him.

Regulus straightened, forcing himself to meet that wild, consuming gaze. He tilted his head just slightly, as if unimpressed, though the way his pulse pounded at his throat betrayed him. “What was what, James?” he asked smoothly, his voice steadier than he felt. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

James’s jaw ticked. His hands flexed at his sides, like he was holding himself back from grabbing, from taking.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb.”

Regulus felt the smirk pull at his lips before he could stop it. “You’ve been messing with me all night, Potter,” he murmured, just the barest hint of challenge curling in his voice. “Thought it was my turn to have a little fun.”

A muscle in James’s jaw twitched. His eyes darkened, narrowed, and fuck Regulus felt the thrill of it spear straight through him. He could see the restraint thinning, the thread snapping strand by strand. He’d been prepared for anger. For frustration. For James to bite something back at him, to warn him, to threaten him, to—

James let out a sharp, humorless laugh, leaning in closer until their faces were inches apart. “Fun, huh?” His voice dropped, his breath brushing against Regulus’s lips. “You really think you can win this?”

Regulus’s fingers twitched at his sides. He should fight back. He should tease, provoke, keep pushing. He wanted to push. But his body, traitorous and weak, needed something else.

Needed James.

James seemed to know. Seemed to see the moment Regulus faltered. His lips curled slightly as he leaned in, so close that their noses brushed.

“I’m clearly the one in charge here, baby.” James murmured, his voice softer now, almost a whisper as his lips ghosted over Regulus’s lips. 

Regulus shivered, his body betraying him as he pressed back against the door. James saw it, felt it, and it ignited something primal in him.

“You wanted my attention, didn’t you?” James continued, his tone rough and possessive as his hand slid down to grip Regulus’s hip. His fingers pressed into the sharp lines of Regulus’s waist, drawing a gasp from the other boy. “Congratulations. You’ve got it.”

“James—” Regulus started, his voice barely above a whisper.

James didn’t let him finish. “Quiet.”

And then his lips were on Regulus’s throat, pressing into the sensitive skin just beneath his jaw. Kissing. Sucking. Biting.

His tongue darted out, tasting the salt of Regulus’ skin moaning at the flavor and scraping his teeth almost roughly.

Regulus whined. 

The sound soft, involuntary, and wrecked was all it took. James pulled back slightly, enough to look at him. Regulus’s lips were parted, his face flushed.

“Do you want me, Reg?” James asked, his voice gravelly. His hardly controlled breath came out slightly faster than normal. 

Regulus faltered, his breath hitching as his lips parted slightly, Yes, oh fucking Merlin yes, but no sound came. 

James leaned in closer, his breath warm against Regulus’s skin, his grip firm where he held him pinned.

James’s lips ghosted over the shell of his ear, his voice dropping into something rough. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured, not a request, but an order. “Answer me.”

Regulus’s throat worked, the words caught somewhere between his pride and his need. Fuck. He wanted to hold onto his composure, wanted to keep his control, but James was stripping him of it piece by piece. His lashes fluttered, breath coming shallow, gaze flickering helplessly between James’s mouth and his eyes.

A sound escaped him, soft and wrecked, more raw than he meant it to be. The last thread of his resistance snapped, his body betraying him as he swallowed hard and gave James the smallest, trembling nod.

James didn’t wait. Didn’t need to. Couldn’t.

His body was strung tight, needing to taste Regulus. Needing to feel him.

James surged forward, his grip tightening, his restraint shattering like glass as he crashed his lips against Regulus’s. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t tentative. It was desperate, consuming. 

Regulus let out a sharp, startled sound against his mouth. One that sent a thrill straight through James’s spine, but it melted almost instantly into something softer. Needier. A moan that James drank in eagerly.

James groaned into the kiss, his hands moving instinctively, one gripping Regulus’s waist, the other tangling into his hair, tilting his head to claim him deeper. And fuck, the taste of him sweet, divine, intoxicating was better than he ever could have imagined.

Better than anything.

And the way Regulus sank into him, the way he parted his lips immediately, without hesitation sent a jolt of raw hunger through James.

James’s hands slid up, cupping Regulus’s jaw, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His grip was firm, possessive, his thumbs brushing over the sharp line of his cheekbones. James kissed him hard, almost brutally, his teeth grazing Regulus’s bottom lip before he sucked it between his teeth, coaxing a trembling, broken moan from him.

The sound made something inside James shatter.

He pushed closer, his body pressing against Regulus’s, forcing him to feel the heat, the urgency. His hands moved greedily, sliding over the curve of Regulus’s neck, down to the line of his collarbone. His lips relentless, as though he couldn’t get enough. Regulus’s soft, helpless noises sent sparks of need through him, each one more intoxicating than the last.

James wanted more. So much more and he knew Regulus was just as far gone.

Regulus’s hands moved from James’s shoulders to his hair, threading through the messy strands and tugging hard enough to make James moan into the kiss. The sound vibrated between them, and Regulus whimpered, his back arching as he tried to press closer.

Their bodies were flush now, chest to chest, and James’s hands moved down, gripping Regulus’s hips and pulling him forward against him. Regulus gasped into James’s mouth, the sound swallowed by the kiss as James’s tongue swept over his, deliberate and teasing all at once, licking into his mouth with a hunger that made Regulus shiver.

James’s tongue slid against Regulus’s, coaxing and claiming, tasting every inch of him. 

James’s hands roamed, touching everywhere he could, tracing the curve of Regulus’s waist, the sharp line of his back. Because he could. He wanted to map every inch of him, claim him fully. Memorize every small detail under his palms, his lips, his tongue. 

Regulus broke the kiss first, gasping for air, his lips swollen and glistening. But James didn’t let him go far. He chased him, his lips brushing against Regulus’s jaw, then down to his neck again. He kissed and sucked at the tender skin, leaving marks this time, ignoring the way Regulus trembled under him.

“James,” Regulus breathed, his voice high and wrecked, his hands clutching at James’s back. Trying to say everything he wanted to just with the one word. 

James pulled back just enough to look at him again, his own breathing heavy, his amber eyes dark with desire. Regulus looked utterly undone his cheeks flushed, his lips parted, his pupils blown wide.

“Look at you,” James murmured, his voice low as his hand slid up to cradle the back of Regulus’s neck. “You’re falling apart for me.”

Regulus didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, not when James leaned in again, his lips finding his with the same overwhelming hunger as before.

The door pressed hard against Regulus’s back as James leaned into him, kissing him until all coherent thought melted away, until there was nothing left but the heat between them and the way Regulus’s soft, broken sounds seemed to echo in James’s chest.

It wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough. 

James reached down and lifted Regulus effortlessly, his hands under Regulus’s thighs as he carried him to the workshop desk. James set him down with a deliberate thud, stepping between his legs and crowding him further.

James couldn’t stop the sounds that left him, low and deep, rumbling in his chest. He couldn’t control a single thought in his mind, his focus narrowing to the way Regulus felt under his hands, the way his body responded. 

The desk creaked under their weight as James kissed with a desire that seemed endless. His hands tangled in Regulus’s hair, tugging just enough to tilt his head back and expose the line of his throat. James licked a slow, deliberate line up the column of it, savoring the way Regulus gasped and shuddered against him.

“So pretty like this, Reg,” James muttered, his voice low and rough as he pulled back just enough to take in the sight before him. Regulus was flushed, his cheeks dusted with pink, his swollen lips parted, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. 

“Pliant and breathless against me,” James continued, his fingers tracing the sharp line of Regulus’s jaw. His thumb pressed gently against the corner of his mouth, the touch achingly intimate. “Just like you were meant to be.”

Regulus’s breath hitched, his lashes fluttering as his hands clung to James’s robes, desperate and unsteady. His voice came out shaky. “Meant to be, huh?”

James’s lips curled into a wicked smile as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over Regulus’s ear. “That’s right, baby,” he murmured, the word slipping out with an ease that sent a shiver down Regulus’s spine.

And then, before Regulus could so much as process the way that single word made him tremble, James closed the space between them. His lips caught Regulus’s in a slow, claiming kiss, one that made Regulus feel like he was sinking, weightless, helpless.

Regulus’ fingers fisted tighter in the fabric of James’s robes as if grounding himself. He felt weak, his body pressing instinctively closer to James, like it was exactly where he belonged. The way James had said it, with that possessive edge and the faintest trace of affection, had Regulus clinging to him even more desperately.

Completely mine, James thought, a rush of satisfaction swelling in his chest as he felt Regulus fall apart in his hands.

“Fuck, Reggie,” James muttered, his voice softer now. His fingers trailed lightly over Regulus’s chest, brushing against the soft fabric of his robes, savoring the way it moved with each tremble of his body. “If you could see yourself right now. Your pristine robes all messed up…” His hand slid lower, his thumb grazing over the curve of Regulus’s hip. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

Regulus shivered under James’s touch, his breath catching again as the words sank in. He’d never been spoken to like this, never been looked at like this. The intensity in James’s eyes, the way his hands roamed over him with such deliberate reverence, left Regulus reeling.

James leaned down again, his lips brushing against Regulus’s cheek. “You taste so good, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “Your skin, your mouth… it’s intoxicating.”

Regulus’ body twitched up into James’s touch. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of him, every part of him craved more.

James let out a soft, breathless laugh, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Regulus’s mouth, then another, just barely brushing against his lips before claiming them in a slow, lingering kiss. It wasn’t deep, but it was consuming in its own way. James savoring the warmth of Regulus’s mouth, the way he softened just slightly beneath him.

When he pulled back, James ran his thumb over Regulus’s cheek, eyes dark with something almost reverent. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice almost teasing but fond. “Definitely intoxicating.”

“Please, James,” Regulus whispered, his voice trembling but insistent, his head tipping back his eyes closing. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, the weight of James’s gaze making him feel like his skin was burning in the best way. 

James growled low, his hands sliding under the fabric of Regulus’s robes, his fingers skimming over his skin, feeling the heat radiating from him. Regulus pressed into James’s hands as they roamed across his stomach possessively. He couldn’t help but groan at the feeling of Regulus’s body under his touch, so soft and warm, so damn perfect.

James dipped his head to taste the skin of Regulus’s neck again, sucking and biting at the tender flesh there. Wanting to leave bruises all over Regulus’s skin, to make sure that everyone who looked at him would see that he belonged to James. That no one else could have him, not like this.

Every mark he left was a purposeful. Every breathless moan from Regulus made him want more, to take more, to own more.

Regulus’s breath came in shallow, shaky gasps, his body trembling as he surrendered completely. There was no defiance in his eyes now, only need.

James moved his lips down, trailing hot kisses across Regulus’s collarbone, his teeth scraping against the skin in the most possessive way possible. Regulus gasped louder now, each sound he made filling the space between them, making the tension in James snap.

“Gods, you’re so fucking responsive,” James murmured, his voice thick. “Can’t get enough of you. You’re mine, Reggie. I’m going to make sure you know that.”

Regulus’s body quivered at the roughness in James’s voice, the words settling deep inside him. He pulled James closer, his legs hooking around his hips, forcing their bodies flush together.

Regulus moaned again, this time broken, the sound falling from his lips uncontrollably. James shuddered at the sound, his spine tingling with the intensity of it. It was overwhelming, addictive, and James wanted more, wanted him, wanted all of it.

James paused just long enough to mutter a quick Silencing and Locking Charm, his wand drawn and flicked in a motion so practiced he barely broke the rhythm.

“Merlin, you’re so noisy for me, baby,” James said, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he met Regulus’s hazy gaze. “Just want everyone here to hear how pretty you sound for me, huh?”

Regulus’s cheeks flushed deeper, but his hips bucked involuntarily at James’s words, earning him a low rumble of approval. James kissed him again, rough and consuming, swallowing every sound Regulus made as if to keep them all for himself.

James’s fingers brushing over the smooth skin of Reggie’s chest, down to the waistband of his trousers. He couldn’t touch him enough, couldn’t get close enough. 

Regulus’s hands tangled in James’s hair yanking him impossibly closer, his hips grinding against him seeking that sweet friction. That release. His cock was throbbing with need, leaking steadily as he’d been on edge for fucking days.

“Merlin, James,” Regulus breathed, pulling back just enough for air. His voice was a wreck of need, shaky and raw. “I can’t—I need—please.” He swallowed hard, his head tilting back against as his eyes fluttered shut. “You’re driving me mad. I can’t take it anymore.”

James’s lips quirked, his gaze heavy and possessive. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Understand?”

Regulus swallowed hard, nodding weakly, his hands trembling as they clung to James’s robes. His wide, stormy eyes flickered between James’s mouth and his own shaking fingers, like he couldn’t quite process how wrecked he felt.

“Say it,” James pressed, his tone sharp with command, his grip firm as his hands slid lower, fingers digging into Regulus’s thighs. “Say you’re mine. I need to hear it, baby—please.”

“I’m yours,” Regulus whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of the words.

“Fuck, that’s right,” James rasped, his voice dripping with satisfaction, rough and possessive. His breath ghosted over Regulus’s lips, before he surged forward, claiming his mouth.

“You don’t even realize what you do to me, do you?” he murmured against Regulus’s lips, his tone almost reverent, as if the words themselves were dragged from the depths of him. His fingers dug into Regulus’s hips, pulling him closer, leaving no space, no room to breathe. “You drive me fucking mad, baby. Can’t think straight around you.”

Regulus gasped against his lips, his body arching instinctively against James’s, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of being apart for even a second. Every inch of him felt like it was being devoured and he wanted more.

“You like this, don’t you?” James growled against his jaw, his hands moving lower, shoving the soft fabric of Regulus’s robes aside. His lips dragged down to his throat, “You like the way I take control, the way I make you feel.”

“Yes,” Regulus whispered, his voice breathless, barely audible over the sound of his own racing heart. “Merlin, yes.”

James grinned against his skin, the friction between their bodies sparking like fire. He pressed his hips into Regulus’s, grinding against him, and the sharp breath it pulled from Regulus was almost enough to undo him completely.

“Good,” James murmured, his voice rough with desire, every word dripping with adoration. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

Every inch of Regulus felt like it was his to hold, his to taste, his to possess. And he wanted it fucking all.

James let out a low, frustrated growl, his hands slipping lower, pushing aside the heavy fabric of Regulus’s robes, exposing the pale skin beneath inch by maddening inch. Those damned robes, he’d been watching them all night, watching the way they clung to Regulus’s form, the way they draped over his shoulders and fell around his frame with an elegance that drove James wild.

He couldn’t take it anymore. His fingers itched, his palms ached to feel more, touch more, have more. His body was strung so tight he thought he might shatter if he didn’t get what he wanted.

“Fucking hell,” James muttered, his voice rough and wrecked as his fingers deftly worked at the buttons on Regulus’s robes. He tore at the fabric, not enough to rip, but enough to reveal more of the pale skin that had been driving him insane. “You’re so goddamn perfect, it’s infuriating.”

He kissed his way down as he went, lips dragging over the sharp lines of Regulus’s chest, his tongue tracing his sternum. 

Regulus couldn’t stop himself. His legs twitched, his hips rocked into James’s without thought, chasing the pressure that ever so slightly eased the ache. His fingers trembling as they slid down James’s arms and back, nails biting into his skin roughly. Desperate little whines leaving him with each roll of his body against James. 

“Aren’t you desperate?” James growled against Regulus’s skin, his voice dark and teasing, his lips brushing over his heated skin. “So needy for me, want it so bad, don’t you?”

Regulus keened, the sound raw and unrestrained, a broken string of noises climbing up his throat. His composure, always so precise, so measured, was gone.

“Yes,” he gasped, his voice trembling, wrecked. His nails bit into James’s shoulders, dragging down the fabric of his robes with enough force to leave streaks of heat against his skin. “I want it—please.”

James’s grin widened as he pressed his body flush against Regulus, their heat melding together. His hips rocked forward in a way that pulled a helpless, wrecked moan from Regulus.

His legs clenched tighter around James’s waist, instinctively rutting against him, his desperate motions uncoordinated but utterly shameless. Regulus dragged his aching cock across the hard plane of James’s hip, the friction sending electric shocks of pleasure coursing through him. His body shuddered with every thrust, and a stuttered gasp fell from his lips as his eyes rolled.

“Just like that, Reg—oh…gods.” James rasped, his voice thick. His hands gripped Regulus’s hips, rough and commanding, fingers digging into the thin fabric of his robes. He guided Regulus’s movements, urging him faster, harder. “Fuck, you feel so good, you know that?”

With a deliberate shift, James aligned their cocks, the friction sending a deep, guttural sound tearing from his chest. The sensation was overwhelming, hot, urgent, perfect. Regulus choked on a gasp at the feeling, his hips faltering for a moment before James’s hands guided him back into a perfect rhythm.

Regulus’s lips trembled as his fingers clutched desperately at James’s robes, pulling him closer, needing him closer, as his body arched into every touch, every kiss

“Reggie,” James groaned, his voice wrecked with desire.

“More.” Regulus breathed, the word escaping in a broken, pleading whimper. His nails scraped against James’s back, his body trembling with need.“Please, I need more.” 

“More what, love?” James whispered teasingly, his voice a low, dangerous drawl as his tongue flicked over the bruise blooming at the base of Regulus’s neck. His teeth grazed the tender skin there, promising more as his hips ground down harder, drawing another desperate noise from Regulus’s parted lips.

Regulus’s mind was a haze, “Shit, Jamie,” he whimpered, his voice breaking, his eyes fluttering shut. “It’s not enough.”

James chuckled, “Tell me what you want, baby.” His voice was demanding now, sharp with the edge of his own unraveling restraint. He caught Regulus’s bottom lip between his teeth, biting down firmly enough to make Regulus inhale sharply. “Use that pretty fucking voice of yours for me.”

Regulus writhed beneath him, desperate for more. More of the maddening pressure, more of James’s hands, his mouth, his everything. He couldn’t stop the soft, broken noises spilling from his lips, couldn’t fight the way his body betrayed him, surrendering completely.

“I—I can’t,” Regulus stammered, his voice barely a whisper, trembling with need.

“Yes, you can,” James growled, his hands gripping Regulus’s sharp hips, holding him still. The loss of friction makes Regulus whimper. His bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he tried to urge himself forward again, but James held him firm.

“You’ve tested my restraint long enough,” James muttered against Regulus’s skin, his voice taut, like he was barely holding himself back. His breath was hot against Regulus’s skin, sending shivers down his spine. “I won’t ask again.”

Regulus let out a high, broken moan, his hands threading into James’s hair, nails scraping against his scalp as his legs trembled around him. His brain was foggy, consumed by the sheer intensity of James.

“James,” he breathed, voice soft and wrecked, a single, desperate plea. “Please—oh gods, please. Don’t tease, Jamie.”

James froze for a second, just a second, before leaning up, his lips brushing against the shell of Regulus’s ear. His voice dropped to a growl, rough and hungry. “Gods, Reg, I love hearing you beg all pretty like that.”

Regulus barely had time to process the words before James crashed their mouths together again. The kiss was wild, open-mouthed, and consuming. James licked into his mouth, tasting him, dominating him with a passion that made Regulus’ head spin.

James raised his wand again, muttering a spell to undo the rest of the maddeningly intricate buttons on his robes. One by one, they popped free.

“Too many fucking buttons,” James growled against Regulus’s lips as he tossed his wand onto the desk without care, pushing the fabric from Regulus’s shoulders in one rough motion. The robes pooled around Regulus’s elbows, leaving his torso bare, pale skin flushed and heaving.

James pulled back just enough to take him in, his amber eyes dark with heat as they raked over him. “You’re bloody gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice wrecked, almost reverent. But reverence didn’t last long.

His hands were everywhere. Trailing over the sharp lines of Regulus’s ribs, brushing against the soft planes of his stomach, greedy and unrelenting. His lips followed, hot and insistent, latching onto the sensitive skin of Regulus’s nipple. James’s tongue lapped over the nub before he closed his lips around it, sucking just enough to make Regulus cry out.

“Fuck, Jamie—”

James hummed against his skin, the sound sending vibrations through Regulus’s chest. 

“Wanna make a mess of you, Reggie,” he murmured against the flushed skin of Regulus’s sternum. “You have no idea.”

Regulus’s breath was coming in short, desperate gasps as James’s hands trailed lower, fingers brushing over the delicate line of his hips before sliding down to his thighs. James gripped them firmly, nearly losing his mind when he felt the muscles under his hands move. 

“All mine,” James said, his voice steady, possessive as he lowered himself. He pressed a kiss to the inside of Regulus’s clothed knee, then another just a little higher, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Every fucking inch of you.”

Needy sounds crawled up Regulus’ throat, his hands clawing at James’s shoulders, his entire body trembling under him.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” James murmured against him, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Let me hear you. Every single sound, every little whimper. I want it all.”

James’s hands roamed higher, thumbs brushing teasingly against the sensitive skin of Regulus’s inner thighs. He grinned against Regulus’s skin when he felt him shiver. His hips pressing forward on their own accord, hoping for James to take pity on him. 

“Uhh—please.” His head fell forward, his hair falling into his eyes, and he let out a shaky breath. “Just fucking touch me already, James. Need it so bad—I can’t wait anymore—”

“Gods, Reg,” James murmured, his tone laced with dark amusement. “Who would ever think such a sweet boy like you could be such a slut."

Regulus body jerks at the words. Heat coiled low in his gut and spread through him. This version of James was all too consuming. All too intoxicating. Regulus couldn’t get enough. 

“I can’t wait, please—” his voice was breathless, drawn out. 

“Patience, love,” James said, his voice softer now, but no less commanding. His hands tightened on Regulus’s thighs, his thumbs pressing into the muscle as he spread him wider. “I told you—I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

And then, James released him, pulling him off the table with an ease that left Regulus unsteady on his feet. Cupping Regulus’s face, James captured his lips in a sweet kiss. 

“Turn around for me, baby.” He murmured when he pulled back, his thumb gently rubbing across Regulus’ cheekbone. 

Regulus bit his lip, his cheeks flushing under James’s unrelenting gaze, before nodding and turning around.

James doesn’t waste time grabbing him and trailing his hands slowly down Regulus’ chest. Down to his stomach feeling the muscles there clench under his fingers. The warmth of Reggie’s skin seeping into his hands. 

His hands moved lower, unhurried, as if savoring every second. He unbuttoned Regulus’s trousers, brushing against the growing bulge beneath the fabric. Regulus let out a sharp gasp, his head tipping back to rest on James’s shoulder.

“Wanna know what I wanna do?” James’s voice was a low, wicked rasp against his ear.

Regulus whined, nodding his head. His breath hitched as James’s knuckles deliberately grazed over him while pulling his trousers down, leaving them pooled around his ankles.

“I want to bend you over this desk,” James whispered, his words slow and deliberate, every syllable laced with heat. “And take my time working you open—so slow, so fucking good—that you’re begging and crying for mercy before I’m done with you.”

Regulus barely managed a sound before James drew back slightly, his eyes dark and hungry. With a deliberate slowness, James brought his hand to his mouth, his tongue dragging across his palm as his gaze stayed locked on Regulus. The motion was purposeful, teasing, and utterly devastating.

“Gotta make it good for you, baby,” James murmured, his voice dripping with heat.

Regulus’s breath hitched, the sight alone unraveling him further, and his knees threatened to give out.

James’s now-slick hand wrapped around him, firm and unrelenting. He stroked with a torturous, deliberate slowness, dragging every ounce of tension from Regulus’s trembling body. His thumb grazed over the sensitive tip, drawing a broken gasp from Regulus as a sob tore from his throat. His hips bucked forward into James’s hand, desperate and out of control.

James’s grip grew firmer, his movements intentional and maddeningly steady. Each stroke was calculated, the pace just slow enough to make Regulus ache for more. 

James’s free hand moved up, tangling in the inky black strands of Regulus’s hair. He tugged just enough to force their gazes to meet. 

“Would you like that, baby?” James asked, his voice a low, dangerous whisper that made Regulus’s entire body quiver.

Regulus nodded frantically, his voice wrecked and desperate. “Oh gods, yes—please.”

Regulus made a disapproving noise as James’s hand left his cock completely. 

James only smirked as he pushed Regulus forward. His hand at the back of Regulus’s neck guided him, pressing his chest and cheek flush against the cool surface of the desk. Like he’d pictured so many fucking times before. He’d nearly driven himself mad with it.

James kicked Regulus’s feet apart, spreading him as far as his trousers would allow.

A groan rumbled from James’s chest as his gaze trailed over Regulus—flushed and trembling, his back arched, his hips pressing back in silent invitation. James slowly dragged his hand up the back of Regulus’s thigh, savoring the shiver that rippled through him as he pushed back.

The first brush of James’s fingers over his untouched entrance had Regulus keening, his hips pressing back on their own accord, desperate for more. His nails bit into the wood of the desk as a strangled plea tore from his lips. “Oh gods—please.”

“So eager,” James breathed, leaning over him to press wet, open-mouthed kisses along the line of his spine. His voice was thick with a teasing hunger, every word designed to unravel him. “Look at you, already begging. You just can’t wait, can you?” 

He reached for his wand, summoning a small vial of lube with a whispered spell. His free hand trailed down the curve of Regulus’s back as he slicked his fingers, his lips twitching into a grin as Regulus squirmed impatiently beneath him.

Regulus let out a broken, pleading moan, his hips pressing back toward James, desperate and shameless as he urged him faster. “I—James, please—”

James let out a low chuckle, his lips ghosting over Regulus’s spine with slow precision. “Please what, love?” he whispered against Regulus’s flushed skin. “Use your words. Tell me what you need.”

Regulus made a frustrated, broken sound, his hips canting into James with shameless urgency. “Need you—need more,” he gasped, his voice trembling with desperation.

James’s bit at the dampened skinks his back as he circled Regulus’s entrance, his touch slow and deliberate. The slick slide of his finger earned another wrecked sound from Regulus, whose body arched involuntarily. His head fell forward, dark curls shadowing his face, as his knuckles turned white against the desk.

“Patience, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

“Uhhh….uh—” Regulus choked out, his voice breaking. It wasn’t coherent, not really—it was barely more than a plea, raw and unguarded, filled with desperation. 

“So fucking perfect for me,” James muttered, his voice low and reverent, his lips ghosting over Regulus’s skin as he teased his entrance. “You’re going to feel so good, I promise.”

Regulus made a choked, guttural sound as James pressed the tip of one finger inside, slow and torturously careful. The stretch was sharp and sweet, stealing the breath from his lungs as his fingers dug harder into the desk. His thighs trembled beneath James’s unrelenting grip, the tension coiling tighter in his stomach with every teasing motion.

Regulus whimpered, a broken moan spilling from his lips as his hips rolled impatiently, seeking more. “James—oh fuck—hurry up—”

“Needy little thing,” James teased, his grin audible as he pressed in further slow and deliberate. “But you like it, don’t you? Being stretched open for me—letting me take you apart piece by fucking piece.”

Regulus choked on a sob, his voice trembling with need as his thighs trembled beneath James’s steady hands. “Yes,” he gasped, his tone raw and unguarded. “Oh gods, yes—anything—just—please—”

James’s grip on his hip tightened, his thumb brushing over the sharp dip of bone while his other crooked his finger sharply. The slick, deliberate slide earned a wrecked gasp from Regulus, whose body arched involuntarily. His curls fell into his eyes, shadowing his flushed, wrecked expression.

“That’s it,” James murmured, his voice low and reverent, full of awe. “You’re doing so well for me—fuck—so good, Reggie.”

Regulus sobbed, his breathing fast and uneven, his chest heaving as James worked him open with maddening precision. His body was shaking, teetering on the edge of his breaking point, and yet James kept going achingly slow.

“Merlin—please,” Regulus gasped, his voice cracked and desperate, his words dissolving into loud whimpers as James began to thrust his finger in earnest. “Oh fuck—“

“There you go,” James murmured, his voice a dark, molten drawl, dripping with satisfaction. “Fuck, Reg. You’re taking it so well. You’re so fucking tight.”

Each slow drag and curl of James’s finger had Regulus trembling, incoherent pleas spilling from his lips, broken and breathless. His nails scratched at the wood beneath him as though grounding himself against the overwhelming sensation. “Ohhh—oh fuck—Jamie—”

“Fuck, I love it when you sound like that,” James muttered, his free hand tightening on Regulus’s waist. “I could listen to you like this forever. Every sound, every moan—you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.” His voice was dripping with affection and need as he sped up his motions, his finger curling to brush against that spot inside him. Regulus jolted with a sharp cry, his body jerking against James’s hold.

“Sensitive there, are we?” James teased, his tone low and teasing as he pressed again, dragging another loud, wanton sound from Regulus. 

Regulus tried to reach down for himself, his leaking cock throbbing painfully for attention. The touch was fleeting, desperate, but James caught him immediately.

“Uh-uh.” James’s voice was a growl, dark and commanding. “Keep your hands on the table, baby.”

Regulus’s hand froze, shaking with hesitation, his need to touch himself warring with the weight of James’s authority. He debated for a moment, but then—

James slipped a second finger inside him, twisting and spreading them to open him further, hitting his prostate with ruthless precision.

“Behave,” James growled, punctuating the word with a sharp smack to Regulus’s arse. The sting bloomed hot across his skin, and Regulus crumbled. He moaned loudly, the sound reverberating through the room as his body arched, offering more of himself to James.

“Oh, you like that, hmm?” James asked, his voice darkly amused as he curled his fingers again, deliberately slow, savoring the way Regulus jerked. Letting out a needy cry, his body completely wrecked.

Regulus’s hips rocked into James’s hand, chasing the sparks of pleasure, his moans growing louder, needier. “Please—James, more—can’t—”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” James soothed, his tone soft but commanding as scissored his fingers, the stretch stealing another wrecked cry from Regulus. “I’ll give you everything, love. Just keep making those sounds for me. Let me hear you, cause I can’t fucking get enough.”

Regulus sobbed as James began to thrust his fingers faster, the pace and pressure driving him higher, every movement sending sparks of pleasure crackling through him. “James—oh fuck… uhhh—”

Regulus’s legs were trembling uncontrollably and struggling to keep him upright as he sagged his full weight against the desk. 

James leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of Regulus’s ear as he murmured, “Fuck look at those legs shake for me. All for me, yeah?”

Regulus’s entire body shuddered in response, a strangled cry escaping his lips. “Yes,” he gasped, his voice wrecked, his hands clawing at the desk for purchase. “Yours. All yours, Jamie—”

“That’s it,” James growled, his lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he pressed deeper, his finger curling and making Regulus shake. James pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, soft and grounding, but his fingers didn’t relent, twisting and stroking until Regulus was nothing more than a shuddering mess beneath him. “Good boy.”

Regulus couldn’t hold himself together anymore. He sobbed openly now, his pride long forgotten as he surrendered completely to the sensations, to James’s touch, to the sheer intensity of it all.

And James adored him for it.

“James—fuck, Jamie, please. Please,” Regulus babbled, his hips circling back desperately, grinding shamelessly on James’s fingers as if he could take him deeper, harder. “More—“

“Gods, Reggie,” James groaned, his voice rough, guttural. “Reduced to nothing but a pathetic little mess for me, aren’t you?” His thumb pressed firmly against Regulus’s entrance, teasing but not giving more, even as his fingers dove deeper, flexing just right.

Regulus cried out, his head tipping back, and his moans broke into half-formed words. “Merlin—uhhh… your cock, James—fuck, need it, please.” His voice trembled, raw with want.

James froze for a moment, his fingers stilling, and Regulus whined in disapproval, writhing against the table. His body screamed for more, for everything.

Desperate and unable to stop himself, Regulus began thrusting back against James’s fingers in earnest, his hips moving with a frantic rhythm as he chased the pleasure James was withholding. His soft, wrecked noises filled the air, each sound pulling at the last shreds of James’s sanity.

James couldn’t help but watch. The sight of Regulus so utterly lost, so needy, was enough to make his breath hitch. He was sure he’d never seen anything so perfect. James nearly collapsed right there. His control was hanging by a thread, his cock straining painfully in his trousers as Regulus fucked himself on his fingers. 

“What was that, baby?” James murmured as he resumed a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Didn’t quite catch that.”

“Oh gods,” Regulus sobbed, his voice cracking. “Fuck me, James. Please. Want it so bad—wanna feel you—feel your cock. Merlin, please.”

A deep, primal growl rumbled from James’s chest. His hand tightened on Regulus’s hip, and for a moment, he teetered on the edge of giving in. He thought about it. Really, really thought about it.

“Not yet, baby,” James rasped, leaning in close, his breath hot against the back of Regulus’s neck. “This time, I’m watching you come undone just from my fingers. Be good for me, yeah?”

Regulus whined, the sound high-pitched and desperate. His hips bucked back, chasing James’s touch, and James let out a low chuckle, kissing the curve of Regulus’s spine.

“Stop whining,” James chided, though his tone held no real bite. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, his free hand smoothing down the arch of Regulus’s back. “Take it like a good boy, baby.”

Regulus sobbed his agreement, his body trembling violently, his breath hitching as pleasure built in tight, merciless waves. “Faster—fuck—harder,” he begged, his voice breaking on the words.

“Look at me,” James muttered as his fingers spread him open, pushing deeper with every movement. Regulus’s eyes fluttered, glazed over in a haze of pleasure, his body desperate for more. He met James’s gaze, utterly undone, looking more than just lost in the moment.

“Show me that pretty smile, yeah?” James whispered, his voice low, coaxing, and possessive. “I wanna see it, baby. Please?” 

A broken, breathless smile tugged at Regulus’s lips, fragile but genuine, as his body trembled under James’s relentless touch.

James made a rumbling, satisfied noise, a dark grin spreading across his face. “Merlin, you’re so fucking pretty it kills me. Fucking look at you—wrecked and still showing me those pretty teeth. So perfect, baby.”

Regulus could only respond with a garbled moan, his thighs trembling violently as his body strained closer to the edge. His breath hitched with every thrust of James’s fingers, and his noises grew louder, more desperate, filling the air like music James never wanted to end.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” James rasped, his voice thick with hunger as he watched Regulus fall apart beneath him.

Regulus nodded, his body arching with every precise movement of James’s fingers. James slipped a third finger in, thrusting faster, his thumb pressing deeper against Regulus’s opening. The stretch made Regulus groan, a broken, pleading sound that had James growling in response.

“You wanna cum, baby?” James’s voice was low and thick, each word deliberate, sending a shiver down Regulus’s spine.

“Yes—yes,” Regulus gasped, his voice broken, barely holding onto coherence as he thrust his hips back, desperate for more.

James’s grip on Regulus’s hips tightened, his smirk sharp and merciless. “After the way you acted tonight, do you really think you deserve it?”

A sob tore from Regulus’s throat, his head shaking before nodding frantically, his movements erratic.

“I’m not so sure, baby. Only good boys get to cum, were you good tonight?”

Regulus nods again, a high pitched noise leaving him as pleasure coursed through him. 

James’s hand came down hard against Regulus’s ass, the sharp sound echoing through the room. Regulus let out a strangled moan, his back arching under the sting.

“Answer truthfully with your words, Reggie,” James growled, his tone carrying a dark edge of command.

Regulus whimpered loudly, his body trembling, the weight of James’s authority pressing down on him. “N-no,” he finally stuttered, his voice raw and breathless.

“No, what?” James pressed, slamming his fingers deep, rubbing relentlessly at the spot that had Regulus nearly drooling. 

“No, I wasn’t—uhh—good,” Regulus managed, through ragged breaths and broken whines. 

“That’s right, baby,” James purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

He tangled his fingers in Regulus’s dark hair, gripping it firmly to tilt his head back, exposing his throat in a gesture of complete surrender. With each thrust of his fingers, he pulled Regulus’s head back in time, his dominance absolute as he met thrust for thrust. 

“I think I should stop and leave you like this,” James growled, his breath hot against Regulus’s ear. “Don’t you think?”

“No—please, I’ll be good. So good, James,” Regulus babbled, his words spilling out in a frantic rush. “Please, I’m so…uh uhh…so fucking close.”

James smirked, his fingers thrusting deeper before suddenly stilling completely. Regulus let out a choked sob, his body jerking as he tried to grind back, only to be held firmly.

James groaned low in his throat, feeling the way Regulus clenched helplessly around his fingers. It was maddening, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to snap and fuck Regulus right here.

“Then apologize, baby. Tell me how sorry you are, and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Regulus squirmed desperately, his body trembling as a string of broken apologies spilled from his lips, barely coherent. “Please, I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, Jamie. Please let me cum, I need it. Please.”

James smirked, “I think we can do better than that, can’t we?” He ever so gently flexed his fingers just enough to make Regulus sob.

“Fuck—I’m sorry…uhh…p-please James. I’ll be so good—ahh—so good for you.” He broke off in desperate gasps, his body uncontrollably writhing against James’ hold, “Let me…I just need—please.”

James’s smirk widened, his movements resuming at a brutal pace, bringing Regulus right to the edge again. Regulus gasped, his thighs trembling, his cries growing louder as the wave crested.

Then, James stopped altogether again. Dragging him cruelly away from the edge.

The tears came unbidden, welling up in Regulus’s eyes, spilling over as sobs tore from his throat. “No—no, please,” he gasped, his voice wrecked.

“Gonna cry for it, Reggie?” James mocked, his tone dripping with wicked amusement. “After weeks of deliberately driving me mad, you can’t handle a little play? A little denial?” He started moving his fingers lazily, just enough to keep Regulus right there.

Regulus let out a desperate gasp, his hands clawing at the worn wood. “Please, I can’t take anymore. I can’t—please.”

James leaned in, his voice a low growl. “You’ll take as much as I give you, baby. And you’ll look at me while you do.”

With that, he tilted Regulus’s face toward him, capturing those tear-filled gray eyes with his own. “I want to watch you fall apart,” James murmured, his fingers resuming their relentless rhythm, pushing Regulus right to his breaking point. “I want to see you cum on my fingers, Reggie. Now, be a good boy for me.”

Regulus gasped, his hips jerking wildly, chasing every thrust as his body locked up, trembling violently. His cries raw and unrestrained, echoing off the walls. James could feel it—the way Regulus was unraveling, breaking into pieces right there under his hands.

“That’s it,” James whispered, his lips brushing the curve of Regulus’s ear. “Wanna see you make a mess all over this fucking desk, for me.”

And Regulus did. His release hit him like a tidal wave, his entire body seizing as he cried out, the sound ripped from the depths of his chest. His head fell forward, his fingers clawing at the edge of the desk as pleasure wracked through him, leaving him wrecked, gasping, and trembling in James’s hold.

James didn’t stop, working him through every shudder, every broken moan, his own breathing rough as he watched Regulus come undone.

“Fuck,” James muttered, his voice thick with pride and desire as he slowed his movements, helping Regulus ride it out. “You did so good for me, Reggie. So perfect.”

Regulus slumped forward against the desk, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his skin flushed and slick with sweat. 

James’s hands smoothed down the backs of Regulus’s thighs, his nails scraping lightly against the sensitive skin. He leaned down, his lips brushing over the curve of Regulus’s spine as he muttered a quiet cleaning charm.

“But fuck…” James’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper as his hands settled on the soft curve where Regulus’s arse met his thighs. “If I don’t get a taste, baby, I think I’ll die.”

Regulus shivered, his breath catching as James gently spread him open, thumbs pressing against the soft, sensitive skin. He cried, his body still trembling from his orgasm, but the sound quickly turned into a low, needy moan as James sunk to his knees and kissed the back of his thigh, lips dragging closer with deliberate, maddening slowness.

The first press of James’s tongue against his entrance had Regulus reacting instantly. A sharp, unrestrained cry tore from his throat as his body jerked forward, only to press back again desperately. James laved at him, relentless, his tongue circling and teasing.

James’s fingers dug deeply into the flesh of Regulus’s thighs, pulling him closer as he moaned against him. Regulus could barely think, his head spinning as tears slipped freely down his cheeks. The sensation was too much—overwhelming, consuming. His body was spent, trembling and pliant, but every flick of James’s tongue drew out fresh waves of unbearable pleasure.

“James—fuck, oh gods. Shit—I can’t, please,” Regulus begged, his voice breaking with desperation.

It earned him a sharp smack on his arse that made him cry out again.

“That’s whining, love,” James chastised, his voice dark and dripping with amusement. “I thought we talked about this?”

The words made Regulus shudder, his fingers clenching helplessly at the edges of the desk as his body trembled under James’s control. James pulled back just enough to see, then pressed a finger into him, slow but deliberate. A moment later, his tongue followed, hot and relentless, setting Regulus ablaze.

Regulus’s knees buckled, his body sagging completely into James’s firm, steady hold. The pressure, the heat it was too much and not enough all at once.

James didn’t relent. His finger moved faster, his tongue working in tandem, drawing soft, broken cries from Regulus with every motion. The sounds only spurred him on, his free hand gripping Regulus’s hip to hold him steady, possessive and firm.

The pleasure built rapidly, unbearable and all-consuming. Regulus’s body tensed, his back arching beautifully. The desk creaked beneath him as another orgasm crashed through him, this one sharper, more intense than the first. It ripped a raw, involuntary sound from his lips, and his body jerked in James’s hold, his muscles clenching as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him.

“Gods, Reggie, you’re incredible,” James breathed, pulling back to watch, “Look how much you came for me.”

His darkened eyes stayed fixed on Regulus, taking in the way he writhed against the desk. The most delicious noises spilled from Regulus—whimpers, gasps, and broken cries that made James’s chest tighten with something hot and possessive.

He didn’t move for a moment, just watched as Regulus’s body trembled, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his lips swollen and parted as he struggled to catch his breath. 

James cast another cleaning charm over himself and Regulus, then he stood, towering over him, and his hands immediately moved to soothe. His fingers brushed over Regulus’s sweat-dampened back, tracing gentle, grounding circles across his flushed skin.

“Such a good boy,” James murmured, his voice low and warm, reverent. “So beautiful.” His fingers trailed up to Regulus’s neck, tilting his head slightly so their eyes could meet.

Regulus blinked up at him, dazed and trembling, his lashes wet and his cheeks flushed. James leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another to his temple.

“You did so well for me,” James continued, his tone soft and full of pride. His thumbs smoothed over the sharp line of Regulus’s shoulders as he pressed close, keeping him grounded.

Regulus let out a shaky breath, leaning into the warmth of James’s hands, his body still trembling faintly. James stayed with him, whispering quiet, soothing words between every press of his hands, every brush of his lips.

When Regulus pushed himself up on unsteady legs, and turned to sag against the table James pulled him close. His lips found Reggie’s in a kiss that was slow and tender, a stark contrast to the raw intensity of moments before. James kissed him deeply, his hands cradling Regulus’s face as if he wanted to keep him together. Regulus melted into him completely, his body boneless and pliant against James’s.

James pulled back from the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked down at Regulus, his lips red and glistening. His gaze traveled lower, catching the faint tremble in Regulus’s legs. A slow, wicked smile spread across James’s face.

“Look at you,” James murmured, his voice thick with heat. “Can hardly keep yourself upright.” He tilted his head slightly, his tone turning commanding. “Why don’t you fix that, baby? On your knees.”

Regulus didn’t need to be told twice. His knees hit the floor in one smooth motion, the plush rug beneath him doing little to soften the weight of James’s presence. James watched him sink lower, his eyes dark with satisfaction, his lips quirking into a smirk that made Regulus’s stomach tighten.

He reached for the buttons of his dress robes, fingers starting to undo the top one. Regulus’s eyes snapped to the motion, his breath catching as he instinctively reached out, his hand wrapping around James’s wrist to still him.

“Keep it on,” he murmured, his voice low but urgent, his dark gaze flickering up to meet James’s.

James froze, his brow raising slightly before his lips curved into a cocky smirk. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice teasing, though the heat in his eyes gave away how much he enjoyed the plea.

Regulus nodded, licking his lips as his gaze remained fixed on James’s chest, framed perfectly by the dark, tailored fabric. “You look—” He swallowed hard, his voice faltering for a moment under the weight of his desire. “Just—leave it on.”

James let his hands fall from the buttons, the smirk growing into something darker, more possessive. “Anything you want, baby,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down to the waistband of his trousers instead.

With deliberate slowness, James undid the button, dragging down the zipper as if savoring every moment of control. Regulus’s breath hitched, his wide, needy eyes glued to the motion. When James finally pulled himself free, his hand wrapping around his cock with a deliberate, lazy grip, Regulus let out a soft, involuntary whine.

Oh Merlin. 

James’s head tipped back slightly, a low, rumbling moan escaping his throat as he gave himself a slow, measured tug. His hips stuttered for a moment at the sound Regulus made, and when he glanced back down, his breath caught.

“Fuck,” James muttered, his voice rough with desire. His gaze roamed over Regulus. The dark hair framing his flushed face, the parted lips, the absolute devotion in his expression. “What a sight you are, Reg,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Then, with a roughness that sent a thrill down Regulus’s spine, James tangled his fingers in his hair and tugged, pulling him closer. “Wasn’t I right? Never seen anything more stunning than you on your knees for me,” James growled, his voice dripping with reverence and possession. 

He brought the head of his cock to Regulus’s lips, smearing the moisture there across them, making them shine under the dim light of the room. Regulus shivered at the  touch, the tension in his body coiling even tighter. James’s heart pounded, his mind spiraling at the sight, at the way Regulus was so completely his in this moment.

James’s voice dropped lower, rougher, as he stroked Regulus’s cheek with his thumb. “Open up for me, baby,” he whispered, his words a command laced with adoration. “Let me see that pretty mouth, yeah?”

Regulus didn’t hesitate. His lips parted immediately, his tongue slipping out, ready and waiting, the anticipation in his eyes enough to undo James completely.

“There we go,” James murmured, his voice thick with approval. His grip tightened slightly in Regulus’s hair as his smirk deepened. “You listen so well, Reggie.”

But he didn’t make it easy. James tugged him closer, guiding his mouth toward him. “Come on,” he urged, his tone both commanding and coaxing. He wanted Regulus to take it, to make the next move.

Regulus, of course, decided to make him wait. Slowly, teasingly, he leaned forward, brushing against James with deliberate softness. His mouth opened wider, wrapping around the tip achingly slow, his tongue sliding over the sensitive underside. Inch by inch, he took him in, his pace infuriatingly leisurely, his eyes never leaving James’s.

James’s cock was thick, almost obscenely big, and Regulus moaned around it. Feeling dizzy and frayed at the edges. He was almost fucking drooling from how bad he wanted this. 

Regulus hadn’t been able to stop thinking about this since that night in the living room, when James had leaned back in the chair, fingers trailing up his thigh. The way his hips stuttered into his own hand at the noise Regulus had let escape. He’d seen James then, hard and full, straining against the seam of his trousers, but the image his mind had conjured hadn’t come close to reality.

Now, with James’s cock hot and heavy on his tongue, Regulus was dizzy, his mind a complete haze. He moaned around him, the sound muffled and needy, his lips stretching wide to accommodate the sheer size of it. His jaw ached, a dull throb building with every movement, but he didn’t care, couldn’t care. Not with the way James’s hand was buried in his hair, holding him steady, and the low groans spilling from his lips like something Regulus wanted to swallow down.

He hadn’t realized he was trembling until James shifted, his thumb brushing almost soothingly along the edge of Regulus’s jaw. Regulus moaned again, involuntarily this time, saliva slicking the corners of his mouth as he fought to keep his composure.

It was concerning, the way he wanted this, how much he needed it. His throat tightened as he took more of James in, swallowing against the overwhelming fullness, his lashes fluttering as he fought the urge to roll his eyes back. 

James cursed under his breath, the sound low and wrecked, and it sent a shiver racing down Regulus’s spine. His fingers flexed against his scalp, and Regulus could feel the tension in his grip. The restraint. The thought of James losing that control sent another wave of heat surging through him, pooling low in his stomach.

Still he took his time. Wanting to savor every moment of this. 

James growled low, his fingers tugging harder at Regulus’s hair in a futile attempt to anchor himself. “Don’t test me, Regulus,” he warned, though his voice shook with need.

Regulus, of course, didn’t listen. He got halfway down, his lips stretched beautifully around James, before pulling off completely, his tongue darting out to lick the head before starting over. James’s head tipped back, a loud, desperate moan ripping from his throat as his control began to crack.

This moment was everything James had been waiting for. He’d dreamed of it, fantasized about it for weeks. Thoughts of Regulus’s lips haunted him endlessly: the way he licked them, bit them, fucking smirked with them. He’d imagined how they’d taste, how they’d feel wrapped around him. But nothing compared to the reality.

Regulus was so beautiful. So pretty. So fucking good. 

James’s fists clenched in Regulus’ hair as he held himself still, his entire body trembling with the effort. Every instinct screamed at him to take more, to snap and thrust into that wet, maddening heat, to bury himself as deep as he could. He wanted to feel Regulus choke around him, to hear him gasp and sputter, to watch tears streak down his perfect cheeks. He wanted to destroy him utterly and completely.

But he didn’t. 

Regulus’s hands slid to James’s hips, his nails digging into the tender flesh there, sending a jolt of pain straight through him. Regulus then moaned around him, the vibrations shooting up James’s spine and obliterating any coherent thought.

“Fuck, Reg,” James rasped, his voice wrecked, his chest heaving. His hands tightened their hold, his restraint hanging by a thread. “You’re going to fucking end me. I’m sure of it.”

Regulus merely hummed, his lips curling around him in a smirk even as he took him deeper, his nails biting harder into James’s hips.

“Merlin, your mouth was fucking made for my cock,” James groaned, his voice hoarse with lust. His gaze fixed on Regulus, utterly wrecked by the sight of those plush lips stretched wide around him. “Look how pretty you are, Reg. Look at those lips, so perfect, taking me so fucking beautifully.”

Regulus’s tongue swirled teasingly around the tip, drawing a shuddering moan from James. Then, as if to push him further, Regulus took him deeper, inch by tantalizing inch, before pulling back almost entirely. 

The cool air hit James, and he growled in frustration, his patience slipping. He wanted more, needed more. He wanted to feel the slick, wet heat of Regulus’s throat constricting around him, wanted to lose himself in it.

“Shit, baby,” James murmured, his chest heaving. His hand moving to cradle his jaw, his thumb brushing against the skin there. He could feel every movement, every delicious shift as Regulus’s mouth worked him over, slow and deliberate.

When Regulus flicked his tongue just so, James’s control cracked. His hips twitched forward instinctively, pressing deeper into the molten heat of Regulus’s mouth. The reaction was immediate. Regulus moaned, the sound vibrating against him, sending a jolt of pleasure through James that had his head tipping back.

“Fuck—is that what you want, Reg?” James breathed, his voice rough and low. He thrust shallowly, just testing, his grip on Regulus’s jaw tightening. “Want me to fuck your pretty little mouth, huh?”

Regulus’s eyes lifted to meet his, wide and pleading, shimmering with unspoken desire. He moaned again around James, the sound muffled but devastating, as his nails dug into James’s hips, urging him deeper.

James snapped. Completely unable to stop himself. The desire, the need, was too strong. He wanted to wreck Regulus, mind, body and fucking soul. 

With a growl, he started thrusting into Regulus’s mouth, slow and controlled at first, gauging his reaction. But Regulus didn’t hold back—his mouth went slack, his jaw relaxing completely as he surrendered to James. He looked utterly wrecked, beautiful and filthy and so, so willing.

The sight alone drove James wild, and his pace quickened, rougher now, as he realized just how much Regulus wanted it.

“Oh fuck, baby,” James groaned, his voice trembling. “You’re killing me.”

His grip in Regulus’s hair nearly doubled, guiding him in time with his thrusts. Each pull sent James deeper, the sensation overwhelming. He think, couldn’t fucking breathe, not when Regulus was like this—moaning, drooling, desperate to take everything James gave him.

“Such a good little slut for me,” James rasped, his voice breaking as he pushed Regulus down to the hilt, holding him there for a moment before easing back. “You’re so fucking obscene, baby. Perfect, so perfect.”

James slid back in, burying himself to the base and stilling, his breathing uneven as a deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest. Regulus’s throat tightened around him as he fought his gag reflex, struggling to adjust, struggling to breathe. But he didn’t pull back. And James, Merlin help him, was completely taken. 

“Feels so fucking good, baby.” James muttered, his voice strained, barely hanging on. His eyes glazing over as he watched Regulus struggle, his eyes briefly watering before he blinked it away, utterly resolute. 

James shifted slightly, pulling out just enough to let Regulus gasp in some air before repeating, slow and deliberate. He stopped again, savoring the heat and the slick pressure that had him trembling, his composure hanging by a thread.

Then, with his free hand, James reached down and wrapped it around Regulus’s throat. The moment he felt his cock bulging there beneath his palm, he nearly lost it. His knees buckled slightly, a broken moan tearing from his lips as he pressed just enough to feel it.

“Fuucckk,” he groaned, his voice cracking as he slowly pulled out, mesmerized by the sight of a glistening string of spit connecting his cock to Regulus’s swollen, red lips. He couldn’t look away, utterly entranced. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this.”

And Regulus, even in his utterly wrecked state, had the audacity to smirk. That infuriating, devastating smirk that James loved and hated all at once. His lips curved wickedly, and he dragged his tongue across them, as if to mock James’s restraint.

Then, slowly Regulus leaned forward and licked a long, torturous stripe along the underside of James’s cock, his tongue dragging from the base to the tip, before taking him all the way back down in one smooth motion.

He paused again when his lips kissed the base, his nose brushing against the coarse hair there as he looked up at James with dark, expectant eyes.

James’s control dissolved. His fingers flexed in Regulus’s hair, and instead of thrusting his hips, he used that grip to guide him, pulling him back before dragging him forward again. Slowly at first, savoring the sight of Regulus utterly pliant, his eyes glazing over with pure bliss.

Regulus’s moans were muffled, vibrating deliciously around James, his eyes fluttering closed as his body trembled.

“None of that, baby,” James growled, his voice rough with need. He gave Regulus’s hair a sharp yank, forcing his head back slightly. “Keep those eyes open. I want you looking at me, yeah?”

Regulus didn’t hesitate. His eyes flew open, locking onto James’s, and James nearly came undone right there.

The sight alone was enough to wreck him completely. Regulus on his knees, flushed and debauched, lips stretched wide around James, and yet still somehow in control. James’s chest heaved, his hair sticking to his damp forehead, his lips parted as he stared down at Regulus like he was the only thing in the world.

“What a good boy you are,” James groaned, his voice a strained whisper. His hips started to move, meeting Regulus thrust for thrust as he guided him with his hand. Each movement sent sparks shooting through him, and the tight heat of Regulus’s mouth made him dizzy.

“You’ve got no idea what you do with that mouth,” James murmurs, voice rough with need. “You’re gonna ruin me, and you fucking know it.”

James’s rhythm faltered, his movements becoming erratic as the edge loomed closer, consuming him. Every muffled moan from Regulus, every tremble of his body, sent him careening toward the brink.

“So close, baby—fuck—wanna fucking cover you,” he babbled, his voice thick and unsteady, every word dripping with raw need. “Gonna fucking claim you, yeah? Would you like that, baby?”

Regulus moaned around him, the sound desperate and needy, vibrating against James in a way that drove him absolutely mad. Drool dripped steadily down his chin, mixing with the tears streaking his flushed cheeks. His breaths came ragged, his throat struggling with every relentless push as James hit the back of it over and over.

James growled, his control slipping entirely. “Bet you’d look fucking unreal covered in my cum. Fucking perfect,” he ground out, the image flashing vividly in his mind. He pulled hard at Regulus's hair as he tried to hold on for just a moment longer.

Regulus’s eyes slipped closed as he fought to focus, overwhelmed by the intensity, but James wasn’t having it. “Fuck—no. Eyes on me, remember?” James demanded, his voice breaking, nearly feral. “I want you to watch me while I finish down your throat, baby.”

Regulus’s eyes snapped open, glassy and red-rimmed, locking on James, and that was all it took.

The release hit James hard, shattering him completely. He threw his head back, a string of loud, wrecked moans pouring from him as weeks of pent-up tension crashed over him in an unrelenting rush.

He barely had the presence of mind to pull out before he was completely spent, desperate to see Regulus painted in his release. His hand moved furiously, tugging out every last drop as he watched his cum splatter across Regulus’s lips, his cheek, and his heaving chest.

The sight alone was enough to bring James to his knees.

Regulus looked utterly wrecked, just how James wanted him. His cheeks were flushed pink, his lips swollen and red, shiny with spit and slick, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His chin was covered with drool and streaked with cum, and tears clung to his long lashes. His black hair was a complete mess, wild curls falling into his face, sticking to his damp forehead.

And James? James could barely breathe. He wanted to take a picture, preserve this moment forever in a Pensieve, to replay it whenever he wanted—because no one, no one, had ever looked like this for him before.

“Merlin, Reggie,” James groaned, his voice shaking as he reached out. His thumb swiped through the mess of cum on Regulus’s cheek, smearing it slightly before he pressed it to Regulus’s lips. “Wasn’t I right? You look fucking divine like this. Utterly gone for me. Covered in my cum, how you should always be.”

Regulus moaned, his lips parting eagerly to take James’s thumb into his mouth, his tongue swirling over it as he cleaned every trace of spunk. The sight was obscene, breathtaking.

James’s knees nearly buckled when Regulus’s teeth scraped lightly over the pad of his thumb, his gaze unwavering. When Regulus finally pulled back with a soft, wet pop, James swore his soul left his body entirely.

And yet, all he wanted was more.

James’s hand shot out, wrapping firmly around Regulus’s throat. With one smooth, commanding motion, he pulled Regulus up to his full height on his knees and crashed their mouths together. The kiss was all-consuming, James’s tongue sweeping into Regulus’s mouth with unrestrained fervor. He sucked on Regulus’s tongue, bit at his lips, and poured every ounce of his desire and dominance into the kiss, claiming him completely.

When James finally pulled back, leaving Regulus gasping for breath, Regulus sank back onto his heels, his breaths quick as he tried to steady himself. James’s gaze roamed over him, dark and unrelenting, before flicking to the desk still streaked with Regulus’s earlier release and then back to his flushed chest, still messy and glistening.

“We made such a mess, didn’t we?” James murmured, his voice low and almost reverent.

Regulus let out a lazy, breathy laugh, a smirk tugging at his swollen, red lips. He trailed his fingers through the mess on his chest, deliberately slow, and James couldn’t tear his eyes away, completely entranced by the deliberate motion.

Without breaking eye contact, Regulus collected the slick onto his hand and let it slide down his body. His fingers wrapped around his still half-hard cock, and he began to stroke himself, spreading James’s cum over himself.

James’s jaw went slack, his breath hitching as he watched. Regulus whimpered softly, his hips bucking into his own hand, every movement dripping with sinful desperation.

“Bloody hell,” James rasped, his voice rough and strained. “You’re such a eager little thing, aren’t you, Reg?”

Regulus’s smirk didn’t waver, though his voice was ragged when he replied, “Only for you.”

James’s lips twitched in dark amusement as Regulus pulled his hand away, trembling slightly from the overstimulation.

“Uh-uh.” James clicked his tongue disapprovingly, his hand grabbing tightly at Regulus's jaw, “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

Regulus gasped, his eyes fixed on James, wide and glistening with both tears and arousal. He obeyed without hesitation, rewrapping his hand around himself and pumping his cock, now almost fully hard again despite the oversensitivity.

The stimulation was overwhelming, his entire body trembling as pleasure and pain blurred together. He whined, soft, pitiful sounds spilling from his lips, his movements faltering as his body struggled to keep up.

“Fuck—oh gods—shit,” Regulus gasped, his voice breaking. “James, I can’t—”

“Oh, but you can, baby,” James murmured, his tone low and coaxing, like a dark promise. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Regulus’s ear as he urged, “Come on. Show me how good you are.”

Regulus closed his eyes tightly, his breathing erratic as he tried to focus, but the noises falling from his lips were uncontrollable, desperate. His hand moved faster, his hips stuttering forward to meet his strokes as his entire body trembled with exertion.

“I don't think I can again—” he sobbed, tears welling in his glassy eyes, spilling over as sharp, gasping cries left him.

James chuckled, almost cruel, as his hand slid to grip Regulus’s chin, forcing his gaze upward. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice a silken taunt. “Don’t you want to be a good boy? Don’t you want to cum all over your pretty little knuckles for me? Hmm?”

Regulus let out a broken whimper, his body arching as he pushed himself further, his cries growing louder as he teetered on the edge, entirely at James’s mercy.

His fingers tightened around himself, the pace of his strokes quickening despite the overstimulation threatening to overwhelm him. His jaw slackened, a string of broken moans tumbling from his lips.

“Huh…uh…fuck—”

“Come on, baby,” James coaxed, his voice a heady mixture of dominance and praise as he gripped Regulus’s jaw. “Just one more time for me, yeah? Wanna see how devastating you look making yourself cum for me. Please?”

Regulus’s entire body tightened and stiffened as his third orgasm ripped through him, more forceful and consuming than the last. He gasped, his head falling back as hot spurts of cum coated his stomach and fingers, his hand faltering as the waves of pleasure wrecked him completely. Whimpering uncontrollably, he trembled in James’s grasp.

James soothed him through it, his voice low and reverent as he murmured praise into Regulus’s hair. “That’s it, baby. You’re perfect. So fucking beautiful.” He pressed soft kisses to his forehead, his tear-streaked cheeks, and the tip of his nose. 

Then, James’s hand wrapped around Regulus’s wrist, lifting the hand still slick with cum. Without hesitation, James licked a slow, deliberate line across Regulus’s knuckles, moaning at the taste. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment before opening again to meet Regulus’s dazed, glassy gaze.

Regulus couldn’t help but watch, spellbound despite his exhaustion.

James’s other hand moved to rub slow circles over Regulus’s scalp, grounding him as his breathing gradually evened out. Once Regulus stopped shaking, James shifted, helping him up on shaky legs and pulling him into his arms. Regulus collapsed against him, letting James take his full weight, his body pliant and utterly spent.

James guided them back to the bench, settling Regulus down carefully before kneeling in front of him. “So good,” he whispered, brushing back damp strands of hair from Regulus’s face. “You were incredible, Reggie. I’ll never get enough of you.”

Regulus leaned into him, his body limp, letting James’s steady warmth envelop him.

James smirked as he straightened up, stepping back for a moment to take in the sight before him. Regulus looked completely debauched—his skin flushed, his chest heaving, his hair a wild mess. The marks James left on him, both visible and invisible, glowed faintly in the dim light.

James couldn’t resist teasing. “Look at you. Pliant and ruined for me. All you needed was for me to fuck you senseless, huh?”

Regulus mustered a weak glare, though it lacked any real bite. His lips twitched upward in defiance as he mumbled, “Fuck off, James.” The words were slurred, his exhaustion clear.

James chuckled warmly, leaning down to press one last lingering kiss to Regulus’s temple. “Whatever you say, love.”

He raised his wand, murmuring a soft cleaning charm, but not before committing Regulus’s utterly wrecked state to memory.

He raised his wand, carefully cleaning them both up, along with the desk and everything else they’d managed to leave in disarray. His touch remained gentle as he helped Regulus back into his robes, smoothing the fabric over his shoulders and fixing his hair with deliberate care.

He couldn’t stop himself from murmuring praise, peppering soft kisses along Regulus’s jaw and temple as his hands roamed over him, as if to remember every inch. 

“We’re going to have to sneak out the back door,” James said with a sheepish grin, tucking a strand of hair behind Regulus’s ear. “Act like we just got back from a fly, because Mum will have our heads for missing the last bit of the party.”

Regulus smirked, his lips quirking in that way that always made James’s chest feel tight. “It was worth it, though.”

James’s gaze softened, a rare vulnerability shining in his hazel eyes. “You have no idea, baby,” he murmured, cupping Regulus’s face and pulling him into a slow, tender kiss. His lips moved with care, pouring every unspoken feeling into the connection, desire, affection, maybe even something deeper.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were flushed and breathless. Regulus gave James a look, one that was equal parts fond and exasperated, before they quickly set to work casting spells to tidy their appearances. Wrinkled robes were smoothed, tousled hair tamed, and their flushed complexions muted. Still, James couldn’t stop himself from staring, utterly captivated by how Regulus managed to look both effortlessly put-together and devastatingly beautiful.

“Stop staring,” Regulus said, though the corners of his lips twitched.

“Can’t help it,” James replied, leaning in to press one last kiss to the corner of Regulus’s mouth.

They grabbed their brooms and slipped out the back door, the cool night air brushing over them as they walked through the garden. James’s hand brushed against Regulus’s, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt perfect.

When they reached the kitchen door, though, perfection shattered. Standing there, arms crossed and looking less than pleased, was Euphemia Potter.

“Care to explain where the two of you have been?” she asked, her tone calm but sharp, her eyes narrowing as she took in their slightly disheveled state despite the spells.

James shot Regulus a quick, nervous glance before flashing his most charming smile. “Evening, Mum. Lovely weather for a fly, don’t you think?”

Regulus bit back a smirk, but the faint twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement as Euphemia’s gaze hardened.

Her sharp gaze flicked between the two of them, arms still crossed. “You two were just as much hosts as me, and you weren’t here to help with the goodbyes.”

James stepped forward, flashing her his most apologetic grin. “Sorry, Mum, it just got… intense. We needed to go for a fly, clear our heads.”

“A fly?” she repeated, clearly unconvinced as her eyes narrowed.

James nodded earnestly, gesturing toward the brooms they’d deliberately grabbed to sell the excuse. “Just needed to let off some steam.”

She shook her head with a long sigh, her irritation still evident. “Off to bed, the both of you. You’ve got plenty of cleaning to do tomorrow. And for Merlin’s sake, wash up. You look like disasters.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and busied herself tidying the kitchen, muttering something under her breath about boys and their nonsense.

As they headed toward the stairs, James shot Regulus a smug look, his grin triumphant. “Told you I’d handle it.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but smirked faintly, his amusement breaking through. “Smooth, Potter.”

James walked just behind him up the stairs, his gaze fixed on Regulus’s retreating figure. His robes clung in all the right places, and the sway of his hips with each step had James biting back a groan. By the time they reached the landing, James was utterly distracted.

When he finally reached his bedroom door, he reached for the handle—and froze. The unmistakable hum of protection wards crackled under his palm, sending a sharp pulse up his arm. He yanked his hand away as if burned and took a step back, scowling at the door.

“What’s wrong?” Regulus asked, stopping in front of his own door and turning back with a raised brow.

James pointed at the door, his expression a mix of horror and indignation. “There’s absolutely no way in hell I’m going in there. I don’t want to go blind.”

It took Regulus a moment, but when realization dawned, he laughed. A warm, rich sound that sent a pleasant shiver through James. “You think Sirius warded your door for—“

“I know he did,” James muttered, glaring at the offending door. “I’d rather not test my luck.”

Regulus shook his head, still chuckling softly as he nodded toward his own door. “Come on, then.”

James didn’t hesitate.

He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. He leaned back against it, his eyes immediately finding Regulus, who was already walking away, his fingers working at the clasps of his outer robes.

James watched, completely captivated. Regulus moved with that effortless grace that made James’s chest ache—like he was something rare, something delicate, even though James knew better. Still, he couldn’t help but think that no matter how much he had of Regulus, it would never be enough.

Regulus turned, catching James’s gaze. His lips curved into a slow smirk, his head tilting just slightly in that way that always made James feel like he was free-falling. “See something you like, Potter?”

James let out a breathy laugh, raising his hand to his lips and swiping his fingers over them as his eyes trailed down Regulus’s body. “You know it, love,” he said, his voice low and teasing. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, if only you’d let me see more.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but his smirk only grew as he turned back toward James. His nimble fingers moved to the buttons of his robes, undoing them with a precision that had James swallowing hard. The sight of pale skin slowly being revealed made James’s breath hitch.

Every inch of Regulus’s skin felt like a tease, and James’s mind wandered, entirely unhelpfully, to thoughts of that same skin under his hands, his lips, slicked with sweat, marked by him. He bit back a groan, but the heat pooling in his stomach was undeniable. Regardless if only mere minutes had passed. 

Regulus made him insatiable. Utterly. 

Regulus shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, the motion fluid and maddeningly elegant. He tossed it onto a chair before his hands moved to the fastening of his trousers.

Those bloody trousers. The ones that hugged his thighs in a way that made James weak.

James’s words caught in his throat as Regulus undid the buttons, stepping out of the fabric with deliberate slowness. James felt his breath grow heavier, his body burning all over again. His hands twitched at his sides, his feet moving before his brain had time to catch up.

“I fear,” James murmured as he reached him, his hands finally settling on the warm skin of Regulus’s waist, “no amount of you will ever be enough.” He kissed him then, pouring everything he felt into it, his fingers gripping lightly at Regulus’s hips.

But Regulus broke the kiss before James could deepen it, his hands gently cupping James’s jaw. There was a tenderness in his eyes that made James’s chest tighten.

“Let’s sleep, Jamie,” Regulus said softly, his thumb brushing over James’s cheekbone.

James furrowed his brows, pouting just a little. “Sleep?” he echoed, like the word was foreign to him.

“Yes, sleep,” Regulus replied, smiling faintly. “As in, close your eyes and get some rest. You do remember what that is, don’t you?”

James groaned dramatically, letting his head fall against Regulus’s shoulder. “How am I supposed to sleep with you looking like that right next to me?”

Regulus chuckled, leaning in to press one last kiss to James’s lips before slipping out of his hold. “I have faith in you, Potter,” he teased, climbing into bed and leaving just enough room for James.

James pulled back with a sigh, flicking his wand to divest himself of his robes in one impatient motion. He caught the way Regulus’s gaze lingered on him, and heat rose to his cheeks. “If you keep looking at me like that, Reg, I can’t promise sleep will be happening anytime soon,” he warned, smirking.

Regulus’s smirk in return was utterly infuriating in the best way. James climbed into bed beside him, pulling him close the moment he settled under the covers. He kissed him again, slower this time, savoring the softness of it, the way Regulus melted against him.

For the first time in what felt like forever, James felt truly content. With Regulus tucked against his side, his head resting on James’s chest, James let his fingers trail lazily through Regulus’s hair.

The warmth between them was enough to lull him into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

August 10th

James woke first, the faint morning light filtering through the curtains casting a soft glow over the room. His gaze fell immediately to Regulus, still sound asleep beside him.

Regulus’s head was turned to the side, exposing the line of his throat and the sharp edge of his clavicle. The blanket had slipped down, leaving his chest uncovered, the pale expanse of skin rising and falling with each breath. James couldn’t help but stare, utterly captivated.

He’d always thought Regulus was beautiful, sharp and striking, like he’d been sculpted by Merlin himself, but now, in this quiet moment, James thought he was something else entirely.

Ethereal, almost untouchable, yet here he was.

His eyes drifted to the faint marks scattered across Regulus’s skin, evidence of the night before. The sight sent a jolt of possession through him, something primal stirring deep in his chest. Without thinking, James reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over one of the marks, tracing it lightly.

His gaze lingered on the pulse point at Regulus’s throat, watching the faint thud beneath the surface. The urge to taste him again, to feel that warmth and softness beneath his lips, was overwhelming. James craved him. It wasn’t just a want, it was visceral, a need so deeply rooted it should have alarmed him. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Regulus stirred slightly, a faint, tired noise escaping from the back of his throat as he shifted onto his side, his back now facing James. The sound sent a shiver down James’s spine, and he couldn’t stop himself from moving closer.

Sliding an arm around Regulus’s waist, James pressed his chest against his back, the warmth of Regulus’s body seeping into him. He buried his face in the curve of his neck, breathing him in, his lips brushing against the soft skin.

He tried to stop himself, he really did, but the pull was too strong. His lips trailed lightly over the exposed skin of Regulus’s neck, down to his shoulder, his hand moving to trace the lines of his stomach and chest.

James felt Regulus stir beneath him, just as his tongue darted out to taste the warm, succulent skin of his shoulder. Regulus let out a low, throaty groan that sent heat rushing through James’s veins.

“James?” Regulus’s voice was rough with sleep, breathy and soft, and it was the most beautiful thing James had ever heard. He smiled against Regulus’s skin, his hand sliding to rest on his hip. Those damn hips that had been driving him mad for weeks. He scraped his teeth lightly against Regulus’s shoulder, savoring the way his body tensed in response.

Regulus inhaled sharply, his body arching ever so slightly. James’s lips curved into a smirk. “Morning, baby,” he murmured, voice low and rasping. He shifted his hips forward, pressing his obvious arousal against Regulus, letting him feel just how bad he wanted him.

Regulus glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes half-lidded with sleep. His hair was mussed, falling into his face in a way that made him look perfect. He gave James a lazy, gorgeous smile, one that threatened to undo him entirely.

“Morning,” Regulus replied, his voice a husky drawl. The sound clawed at James’s mind effectively tearing it to shreds, and when Regulus purposefully shifted his hips back against him, it was enough to make James’s breath hitch. His fingers tightened their grip on Regulus’s body, desperate to hold him closer.

James dipped his head, catching Regulus’s earlobe between his teeth and tugging lightly before moving to suck a bruise just below his ear making Regulus shiver.

“How’d you sleep?” James whispered against his skin. His hands moved greedily, touching everywhere they could reach. His chest, his stomach, his hips, his thighs. He grazed teasingly over Regulus’s bulge, watching the way he twitched lightly beneath his touch, the way Regulus’ lips parted as he let out a soft exhale.

“Just fine, Jamie. You?” Regulus’s voice was still deep from sleep, but now tinged with growing desire. James’s hands trailed right back up his chest, his thumb deliberately rubbing over one of Regulus’s nipples.

“Dreamt of you all night, Reg,” James said, his voice gravelly, laced with the kind of raw intensity that made Regulus tremble beneath his touch.

Regulus’s breath hitched, but his lips curved into a faint smirk. “Did you now?” he asked, his voice challenging but soft, rolling his hips back deliberately to meet James’s.

James groaned, pressing forward again for the slight relief it brought, his desire so overwhelming he could hardly think. 

“You’re all I want, baby,” James murmured, his words drenched in affection, “so much it’s fucking hurting.”

James’s grip shifted to Regulus’s hip, and with a practiced ease, he flipped him onto his back. He maneuvered himself to slot between Regulus’s legs, pausing for a moment to look down at him. The morning light streamed through the window, casting Regulus in a golden glow. His dark hair seemed to shimmer, his pale skin nearly luminous.

James’s breath caught as a pang of almost-painful adoration thudded through his chest. Regulus was breathtaking, so pretty, so unreal, that it nearly hurt to look at him.

Unable to hold back any longer, James leaned down, capturing Regulus’s lips in a slow, unhurried kiss. It was deep, sensual, and controlled, filled with so much intention that Regulus melted beneath him. He allowed James to take the lead, his body falling pliant and boneless, surrendering completely.

James couldn’t stop himself. His kisses traveled down, pressing reverently along Regulus’s jaw, throat, chest. He paused to lave at his nipples, drawing soft, breathless sounds from Regulus as he worked his way down his sternum and stomach, every inch of skin becoming a canvas for his devotion.

Finally he reached those sinful hips.

James let his tongue trace the sharp lines of Regulus’s hip bones, savoring the way they jutted out just enough to catch the light. He groaned, as though tasting Regulus’s skin was the most exquisite thing he’d ever experienced. He kissed, licked, and bit at the indents there, dragging his tongue over the curves and hollows with reverence.

When he sucked a deep bruise into the skin, Regulus couldn’t stop himself from squirming beneath him. His fingers tangled in James’s messy hair, his breath quick and shallow as he tried and failed to keep himself still.

“These hips, Reggie, are going to wreck my sanity completely. I’m sure of it,” James murmured, his voice low and serious as he stared at the sharp lines of Regulus’s body.

Regulus chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. “Oh, don’t be dramatic, Potter.”

But James didn’t crack a grin or tease back. He meant it. He pressed a lingering kiss to the jut of one hip before moving down, his lips trailing along the curve of Regulus’s thigh. He kissed the tops first, reverent and slow, before his hands gently guided Regulus’s legs apart, giving himself the space to sample the soft, sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

James left no inch untouched. He kissed, nipped, bit, and sucked, leaving faint pink and purple marks in his wake, each one eliciting the smallest, sweetest noises from Regulus’s lips. Every shiver, every tremble, every hitch of breath from Regulus fueled him.

“James,” Regulus whined softly, his voice wrecked already. “How long are you going to tease me for?”

James paused, looking up at Regulus from between his thighs, his grin all charm. “As long as I want, baby.”

He lowered his head again, his breath ghosting over Regulus’ clothed length, teasing him further. The light feeling of James’s breath made Regulus’s cock twitch beneath the fabric, earning an involuntary gasp from him. James chuckled, dragging his lips back over the sensitive skin of Regulus’s thighs, moving closer to where he knew Regulus wanted him most but never quite touching.

Regulus’s hips jerked upward, chasing relief, but James’s hands were quick to grip them and press them firmly back to the mattress. “Always so ready, aren’t you?” James murmured, his voice heavier now, rough with desire.

Regulus tilted his head back, his cheeks flushed as he nodded. A soft, breathy sound left him, so quiet it was almost a whimper, and James felt his chest swell with satisfaction.

Leaning in, James pressed his mouth gently to the outline of Regulus through the fabric, his movements slow and teasing. Regulus let out a low, guttural sound, his hips jerking again against James’s grip, his fingers tugging impatiently at James’s hair.

Just as James was about to finally end his teasing, Euphemia’s voice rang up the stairs, loud and commanding. “Boys! We have a lot of cleanup to do!”

Regulus made the most pitiful sound James had ever heard, absolutely pathetic and heartbreaking. James was done for. That sound would haunt him forever, he just knew it. 

James started to pull back, his head already filling with thoughts of making this up to him later, but Regulus’s grip tightened in his hair, keeping him in place.

“Please, Jamie?” Regulus begged, his voice trembling and raw with need. “Don’t make me wait. Please.”

James’s restraint wavered visibly, his hands trembling as he leaned forward again, pressing a lingering kiss to the tip of Regulus’s cock through the fabric. Regulus mewled in response, his fingers tightening in James’s hair almost to the point of pain, pulling him closer as if to keep him from leaving.

James groaned low in his throat, a mix of frustration and desire as he pulled back just enough to look up at Regulus. “Sorry, love. We’ll have to finish this later.”

Regulus whined, his disapproval clear in the way his head tilted back against the pillows, his lips forming James’s name in a desperate plea.

“James…”

James groaned again, his entire body protesting as he forced himself to stand. His eyes raked over Regulus, drinking in the sight of him flushed and needy, a vision James knew he wouldn’t soon forget.

“Promise, baby. I’ll make it up to you,” James murmured, voice heavy with regret as he reached for his pants and quickly pulled them on. Grabbing his robes, he flung them over his shoulder before leaning down to steal one last kiss. Regulus chased after him as he pulled away, their lips brushing once more before James straightened, swallowing hard.

“Come on, get dressed before Mum kills us all,” James said, his tone affectionate but strained.

He reluctantly left the room, his gaze lingering on Regulus’s disheveled form in the bed, committing every detail to memory before he turned and slipped out, shutting the door softly behind him. 

James ran his hands through his hair, trying to compose himself as he crossed the hall to his bedroom door. Knocking sharply, he cracked the door open just enough to peek in. “I swear, if you two aren’t decent, I’ll hex you both.”

Sirius groaned dramatically, his voice muffled. “You’re safe, Prongs. Unfortunately.”

James pushed the door open, stepping inside to find Sirius and Remus curled up in bed, mercifully clothed. Sirius was sprawled across Remus, who looked content to let him use him as a human pillow. James tossed his robes onto the desk chair and began rifling through a pile of clothes.

“You know, a heads-up last night would’ve been delightful,” James muttered as he dug through his things.

Remus chuckled, his tone teasing. “Well, you and Reggie were nowhere to be found. We figured you were… preoccupied.”

Sirius groaned and smacked Remus on the chest, glaring at him. “Merlin, stop. I don’t want to know anything about what went on with him and my brother last night.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to know what happened in my room either,” James shot back, pulling out a clean shirt. “Though, judging by the wards you threw up on the door, I’ve got more than a few ideas.”

“Would you have rather I didn’t put them up and you got traumatized instead?” Sirius retorted, raising a brow.

James shuddered at the thought, slipping the shirt over his head. “Merlin—no.”

“Then stop complaining,” Sirius said smugly, flopping back against Remus.

James rolled his eyes. “Mum’s summoned us all for cleaning duties. No one is safe.”

Sirius groaned, dramatically burying his face in Remus’s chest. “I hate it here,” he grumbled, though the fond smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

Remus patted his back affectionately. “Come on, Pads. It’s not that bad.”

James smirked, moving toward the door. “Hurry up, Pads, or I’ll leave you to Mum’s wrath.”

Sirius groaned louder but didn’t move. “I hate you.”

James laughed as he slipped out of the room, muttering, “Love you too, mate.”

                  *   ~   *   ~   *

The sitting room was finally starting to resemble its usual cozy state after nearly an hour of cleaning. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, catching on the polished wood of the coffee table and the freshly dusted shelves. The air smelled faintly of citrus from Euphemia’s cleaning charm, which she had insisted everyone use.

James stood by the bookcase, ostensibly organizing the spines but stealing glances at Regulus, who was across the room wiping down the windowsill. It was impossible not to watch him, the delicate concentration on his face, the way his hair fell into his eyes until he brushed it back with a frustrated huff.

James couldn’t get the flavor of him out of his mind, out of his fucking mouth. That desperate, pleading noise Regulus made this morning clawed at every shard of his sanity making it nearly impossible to think. 

“Looking good over there, Reg,” James said, his voice casual but with an unmistakable warmth.

Regulus paused, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “The windowsill?”

James smirked. “Sure. That too.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t look entirely displeased. He returned to his task, but James wasn’t done. Wandering across the room, James stopped next to him, his hand brushing lightly against the small of Regulus’s back as he reached for a rag.

“Mind if I help?” James asked, his tone light but his touch lingering for just a moment too long.

Regulus stiffened at first but didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted slightly, allowing James closer, his lips curling into the faintest smirk. “Be my guest. Though I think you’re more interested in the company than the cleaning.”

James grinned, leaning in closer as though inspecting a particularly stubborn streak on the wood. “Maybe I’m just a perfectionist.” His shoulder brushed Regulus’s, and he let his fingers trail briefly over Regulus’s wrist as he handed him the rag.

Across the room, Sirius groaned dramatically. “Merlin, Prongs, can you not? I’m right here. Do you have to make eyes at him all day?”

James straightened, shooting a mock glare at Sirius. “Jealous, Pads? Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.”

“Oh, good. I was worried,” Sirius drawled, waving his wand lazily to send a duster floating up to the top shelves. “Honestly, though, you are terrible.”

“Keep it up, and I’ll have mum assign you to mop duty,” James shot back, his tone playful but his grin mischievous.

“Go ahead. Maybe then I won’t have to witness this disturbing display of affection.” Sirius muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

Regulus, still leaning against the windowsill, let out a quiet snort, his smirk growing. James caught the sound and leaned closer, his voice low enough for only Regulus to hear. “Don’t let him fool you. He loves watching me charm you.”

Regulus glanced at James out of the corner of his eye. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Effective, isn’t it?” James whispered, his lips quirking into a small, self-satisfied smile.

“Debatable,” Regulus murmured, but his cheeks turned faintly pink as he bent back to his task.

Euphemia poked her head in from the hallway just then, hands on her hips. “Boys, it’s not supposed to take this long to clean a sitting room.”

“We’re working on it, Mum!” James called back cheerfully.

“Work faster,” she said with a pointed look at Sirius, who had stretched out on the couch to supervise the floating duster.

“James, go help Remus move the boxes back to the basement. Sirius, Regulus start reboxing the fancy glasses. Carefully,” she added, her gaze sharp as it landed on Sirius lounging on the couch.

Sirius sprang up dramatically, clutching his chest. “Me? Careless? Never.”

Euphemia raised an eyebrow. “If I catch you lying down one more time, Sirius Black—”

“I’m working, I’m working!” Sirius said, scrambling for the nearest box of glasses as James snickered as he watched.

Turning James groaned loudly as he followed her orders, trudging toward the kitchen where Remus was already sorting the stack of boxes destined for the basement.

“I swear, Moony, you’re the only one who actually listens to Mum,” James grumbled, grabbing a box.

Remus didn’t look up as he hefted a box of his own. “Someone’s got to keep this house running while the rest of you are busy slacking off.”

“Oh, shut it.”

The two descended the stairs, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The basement was cool and smelled faintly of old wood and dust. As they began placing the boxes on shelves, Remus broke the silence, his voice casual but laced with curiosity.

“So, where did you disappear to last night, huh?” Remus asked, sliding a box onto the shelf before shooting James a knowing look.

James shrugged a little too casually, setting his own box down with a loud thud. “Just to the workshop,” he said, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“The workshop, eh?” Remus leaned back against the shelf, arms crossed, smirking. “And what exactly happened there?”

James rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Oh, come on, Prongs. You have to tell me now. Sirius isn’t here to whine and complain about me prying,” Remus said, giving James a light shove.

James snorted, laughing. “Yeah, and that’s exactly why I’m not telling you. Sirius would never let me live it down if he heard.”

“So, something did happen,” Remus pressed, his tone triumphant as he resumed stacking boxes.

James rubbed the back of his neck, the faintest grin tugging at his lips. “Trust me, Moony, a lot of things happened,” he said, exaggerating the word with a dramatic flourish.

Remus raised an eyebrow, his curiosity clearly piqued. “So… you finally kissed him?”

James couldn’t help it the smile broke across his face, wide and unstoppable. He nodded.

“And?” Remus asked, smirking as James’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. “How was it?”

“Bloody brilliant, Moony. More than brilliant. He’s… he’s something else,” James said, shaking his head as though still in disbelief.

Remus chuckled softly, “I believe it. But there’s more, isn’t there? You’re far too smug for my liking today.”

James laughed, leaning back against the shelf. “Alright, yes, there’s more. But you don’t need to know everything, do you?”

“Trust me, I don’t want to know everything,” Remus said, wagging a finger. “But I do need more than what you’re giving me.”

James shuffled a few boxes around aimlessly, his grin turning sheepish. “Well… we kissed, and it was… intense. Nothing like I’ve ever felt before. Reggie just…” He gestured vaguely with his hands, searching for the right words. “Gods, Moony. He just melted.”

Remus’s expression softened into something more understanding, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew that look, that feeling. “I get it,” he said simply. “Sirius is the same way.”

James groaned dramatically, covering his face with both hands. “Oh, ew, stop! Don’t compare them!”

Remus laughed, nudging James with his elbow. “They’re literally brothers, Prongs. They share a lot of the same traits.”

“Don’t—don’t even go there!” James said, covering his ears.

Remus ignored him, continuing with a sly grin. “Not to mention they look—”

“Nope! Moony, stop!” James cut him off, covering his eyes now. “That’s my best mate you’re talking about. I cannot think about him when I’m thinking about Reggie. My brain might actually explode.”

Remus chuckled, clearly amused. “Well, you’re the one who chose this, mate. You’ve got to deal with the consequences.”

James groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’ll never be able to look at Sirius the same way again. Not after seeing Reggie—” He cut himself off, biting the inside of his cheek and looking away, suddenly busying himself with another box. The words echoing in his mind. 

Wrecked and dripping in my cum. 

Remus leaned forward, eyebrows raised in interest. “After seeing Reggie like what?” he pressed, his voice dripping with curiosity.

James’s face flushed an even deeper red as his mind betrayed him, flashing to last night. Reggie flushed and utterly undone. He shoved the thought away, shaking his head. “After seeing Reggie all—” He waved his hand vaguely, his voice faltering. “You know… disheveled.”

Remus’s laugh echoed through the room. “That is so not what you were going to say.”

“Trust me, Moony,” James said, straightening up and shoving his hands in his pockets, “you don’t want to know what I was going to say.”

“For once, I think you’re right, Prongs,” Remus said, still laughing as he moved to stack another box.

James smirked, leaning casually against the shelf again, the flush still faintly visible on his face. “You know,” he started, his voice lighter now, “I didn’t think he’d make it easy, but Merlin—he’s going to be the death of me I think.”

Remus smiled knowingly. “They’re alike in that way too, then. Sirius and Regulus.”

“Moony!” James groaned, dragging his hands through his hair, but he wasn’t about to let the conversation end without turning the tables.

“Hope my being banished from my own bed last night was worth your while,” he quipped, raising an eyebrow as he hefted another box onto the shelf.

“Oh, Prongs, you have no idea,” Remus replied, his voice a touch too casual.

James made a show of groaning and pretending to gag, clutching his stomach dramatically. “Merlin, I’m seriously going to have to sanitize everything.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Remus said, rolling his eyes as he nudged a box into place with his foot.

But James wasn’t done yet. A wicked grin spread across his face, one that Remus immediately clocked as trouble. “So, was I right?”

“Right about what?” Remus asked dryly, not even bothering to look up. Not liking the tone of James’s voice one bit.

“Sirius being the bottom,” James said, his smirk growing impossibly wider.

That got a reaction. Remus barked out a laugh, snapping upright and kicking lightly at James’s ankle. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, come on, Moony, tell me!” James pressed, leaning in like he wouldn’t rest until he got his answer.

Remus shot him a sharp look, one eyebrow raised. “You tell me first, out of you and Reggie.”

James straightened up, giving Remus the most unimpressed droll stare imaginable. “Seriously? What do you think?”

Remus stared at him for half a second before dissolving into laughter, “Well, looks like submission runs in the Black family genes, doesn’t it?”

James threw his head back, laughing so hard he nearly toppled over the box he was leaning on. “Oh, this is gold! I knew it! I mean, Sirius is literally a dog—” He was laughing too hard to finish his sentence at first, but he managed to gasp out, “It’s in his nature to follow commands!”

“You’re horrible, you know that?” Remus said, shaking his head as he adjusted his robes.

“Oh, but I’m right, though, aren’t I?” James pressed, wiping at his eyes as if there were actual tears of laughter.

Remus sighed heavily, his silence answering the question for him.

“I’m never letting him live this down,” James declared, grinning ear to ear. “I always knew you could handle him, Moony.”

Remus scoffed, shaking his head. “Just as well as you can handle Regulus, I reckon.”

James laughed, though his grin softened slightly as he leaned against the shelf. “Reggie’s a bit different though, isn’t he? I mean, Sirius is… Sirius. But Reggie’s got that quiet intensity. You never quite know what he’s going to do next.”

Remus tilted his head, considering James for a moment. “True. Sirius is… louder about everything. Reggie’s always been more subtle, but I think that’s part of what makes him dangerous.”

James smirked. “Dangerous? Please, he’s harmless, Moony. A pretty little kitten, mind you, but—”

“You sure about that?” Remus cut in, his tone teasing. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like he’s got you completely wrapped around his finger.”

“Finger? Try his whole hand,” James admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But in my defense, have you seen him?”

“You’re hopeless, Prongs.”

“And you’re one to talk!” James shot back, pointing at him. “How many times has Sirius turned you into a pile of goo just by looking at you?”

Remus gave a faint smirk but said nothing, his silence doing all the talking.

James grinned, crossing his arms. “Exactly. Guess we’re both doomed, huh?”

“Completely,” Remus agreed, still smiling.

For a moment, they both returned to their work in comfortable silence, but James couldn’t resist breaking it one last time. “Hey, Moony?”

“Hm?”

“If Sirius ever gets too loud, feel free to borrow the workshop. It’s got great acoustics for, uh… private conversations.”

Remus groaned, grabbing the nearest book and chucking it at James, who dodged it with a laugh.

                  *   ~   *   ~   *

“So, did you enjoy the party?” Sirius asked, not looking up from the glass he was packing.

Regulus didn’t miss a beat, his focus fixed on his task. “I rather enjoyed my evening, actually. You’d be surprised how fascinating the broom business is.”

Sirius snorted, smirking. “You’re serious?” he teased, looking at his younger brother with an incredulous grin.

Regulus glanced at him, his expression blank. “Of course. I find many things interesting, Sirius—more than just petty pranks and bad jokes.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, groaning theatrically. “You’re boring, Reg. Truly. How did you get none of my fun spirit?”

“One of us had to actually be intelligent,” Regulus replied smoothly, his lips twitching as though he might actually smile.

Sirius gasped dramatically, “Are you calling me stupid?”

“Can’t you figure that one out on your own?”

Sirius playfully bumped his shoulder, grinning. “You’re unmerciful, Reggie. Poor James—I wish him all the luck in the world.”

At that, Regulus stilled for a fraction of a second, heat creeping up his neck at the mention of James. His thoughts betrayed him, flashing to the night before: James’s hands, commanding voice, the way he’d taken control so effortlessly. He quickly ducked his head, returning to his work.

Sirius caught the look instantly. “What’s the blush for, Reg? Huh?” he teased, nudging him with his elbow.

“Shove off, Sirius,” Regulus said dryly, meticulously wrapping another glass.

But Sirius wasn’t letting it go. “Does James have you more in place than I thought?” he joked, laughing when Regulus turned to him indignantly.

“Don’t even go there, Sirius.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius said, laughing harder now. “You should see your face! Only proves my point!”

Regulus’s cool facade cracked, but his smirk sharp as he retaliated. “Says you.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. “What’s that supposed to mean, Reg?”

“You and Lupin,” Regulus said smoothly. “One look from him and you’re practically done for.”

Sirius scoffed, trying to mask his embarrassment. “That’s different.”

“Is it?” Regulus quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius waved a hand dismissively, deflecting with a topic change. “With the way you stared after James this morning, I’d say you have no room to talk.”

“I wasn’t staring after him,” Regulus said flatly, though the tips of his ears betrayed him by turning pink.

“Oh, you so were,” Sirius said, grinning wickedly. “Whatever happened last night has you reduced to nothing but a blushing mess.”

Regulus’s face flamed as memories of the previous night flashed in his mind, James pulling him apart and putting him back together all at once. He focused on the glass in his hands, praying Sirius would drop it.

But Sirius was relentless. “See! Look at you, all red-faced! What was it, huh?” Sirius leaned closer, wagging his eyebrows. “He finally mustered up the courage to kiss you?”

Regulus snapped his head toward Sirius, his expression cool and calculated as he decided to shut him up in the most effective way possible.

“Much more than that, dear brother,” he said smoothly, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Sirius immediately recoiled groaning loudly. “Merlin, Reg! I’m going to be sick!” He clapped his hands over his ears.

Regulus rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Don’t overreact. It’s not like we don’t all know what you and Remus were up to last night, with all those wards you put up.”

Sirius’s indignation was immediate. “Excuse me?”

Regulus arched a brow, leaning into his work with deliberate calm. “You think no one notices when you two disappear and the room is suddenly impenetrable? Please.”

Sirius sputtered, pointing at him accusingly. “That is not the same thing!”

“Oh, it’s exactly the same thing,”

“Moony and I are subtle!” Sirius shot back.

Regulus laughed, a rare sound and shook his head. “Subtle? You? Don’t kid yourself.”

Sirius groaned again, but he was grinning despite himself. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable,” Regulus countered, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he packed the glasses into a box.

Sirius shoved him lightly, grinning. “Maybe. But at least I’m not the one blushing like a schoolboy over James Potter.”

Regulus gave him a withering glare, though the flush hadn’t quite left his face. “Pack the last box, Sirius, before I hex you.”

Sirius laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender as they fell into silence again, the warmth of their banter lingering between them.

Once the last of the boxes was packed and the glassware safely secured, the silence deepened. 

Sirius and Remus had disappeared into the house, likely retreating to their own corners for a break. Regulus, though, found his feet carrying him toward the garden.

It didn’t take long for him to find James. He was perched on the low wall near the flowerbeds, his broom balanced on his knees as he absentmindedly wiped the handle with a cloth. The sun cast a soft glow over him, making his hair seem almost golden and his glasses glinting in the light. The image was effortless, easy, and it made Regulus pause for a moment, caught by how natural it seemed.

“Look who decided to grace me with his presence,” James teased. “I thought Sirius might’ve locked you up to avoid losing his favorite brother to me entirely.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he came to stand nearby. “He’d have to try harder than that. Besides, I doubt you’d miss me for long.”

James smirked, setting the broom aside. “You sell yourself short, Reg. Trust me, I’d notice.”

Regulus didn’t reply, instead fixing his gaze on the neat rows of flowers lining the garden.

“So,” James began, his voice casual but carrying an edge to it, “about last night.”

Regulus stiffened slightly, though he didn’t look away from the flowers. “What about it?”

James leaned back, stretching his legs out as his grin widened. “I just wanted to know what you thought. Was I everything you imagined?”

Regulus scoffed, brushing off the question. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but I’m right,” James said, tilting his head toward Regulus. “I mean, you’re still blushing.”

“I am not blushing,” Regulus shot back, though the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him.

James hummed thoughtfully, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees now. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Regulus huffed, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not so bad yourself, Potter.”

“That’s all I get? ‘Not bad’?” James crossed his arms over his chest, pretending to be affronted. “You seemed to think much more of me last night, if I recall correctly.”

Regulus’s smirk faded as he quickly glanced away. “I’m afriad you’re mistaken.”

James’s smile turned into something softer, more knowing, as he leaned closer. His voice dropped, his tone playful but laced with heat. “I’m afraid I’ll never forget the way you begged for me, Reggie. All needy and desperate.”

Regulus’s breath caught, and his eyes snapped to James, wide with surprise. “James—”

Before he could say another word, James closed the gap, his lips brushing against Regulus’s in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and entirely captivating. It wasn’t rushed or frantic; it was steady, meaningful, as though James was determined to leave an imprint on Regulus’s very soul. When he pulled back, his lips curled into a smug, satisfied smile.

“You’re the worst,” Regulus muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as his heart raced.

James didn’t miss the way Regulus’s fingers twitched at his sides, as though resisting the urge to reach out. He reached for Regulus instead, his hand cupping his cheek with a tenderness that made Regulus’s stomach twist. James’s thumb traced along his jaw, and his voice was soft, reverent. “Those eyes of yours—gods, Reg, they kill me.”

Regulus’s breath caught in his chest at the words, and his gaze dropped briefly to James’s lips before returning to his eyes. There was something about the way James spoke, something that made Regulus’s heart race in a way that unsettled him. But it wasn’t just the words. It was the tenderness in James’s voice, the sincerity, the look in his eyes.

It was too much, too real.

James caressed his cheek tenderly. Regulus froze, a sharp breath escaping him as James’s thumb brushed along his jawline, his touch lingering in a way that made Regulus feel like he was being pulled underwater. 

James’s fingers slid down, tracing his chin with the same tenderness. It felt like more than just a touch. It was intimate, it was soft, and there was an undeniable affection in the way his hand lingered. Regulus felt his pulse quicken, the weight of the moment crashing down on him. He couldn’t breathe.

He was drowning in the intensity of James’s gaze, in the warmth of his touch, in the words that seemed to echo in his mind.

For a moment, everything seemed to still, and the world around them faded. But then, panic hit him. Regulus’ chest tightened painfully, and without another word, he jerked back, pulling away from James’s touch. His heart was pounding in his ears, his mind a mess of swirling emotions.

James blinked, his hand slowly falling away from Regulus’s face. He looked confused, even slightly hurt. “Reg?”

Regulus hadn’t meant to fall apart.

Not here. Not now. Not when everything was so good it felt like a lie.

James’s touch had been soft, too soft. Like he was handling something precious. Like Regulus was something worthy of that care, that reverence. The pad of his thumb brushing along Regulus’s jaw, his palm warm against his cheek, and that look in his eyes…

It should’ve made him feel safe. Cherished. But instead, it cracked something wide open inside him.

Regulus felt the tremor start in his fingertips first, a subtle trembling he tried to still by curling his hands into fists. But it spread fast, up his arms, into his chest, his throat. He couldn’t breathe. His ribcage ached with how tight it felt, like his lungs had shrunk to nothing.

Regulus didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His chest was too tight, his body too restless. Without looking back he pushed himself up, turned and hurried toward the house, each step feeling like it took him further away from his own mind.

James was too steady. Too good. Too warm and whole and golden.

And Regulus… wasn’t.

He’d let James in. He’d let him in, the night before, let James touch him, worship him, whisper to him like he was something soft and not a boy carved out of cold marble and guilt and old family rot. James had kissed every scar, every sharp edge, and hadn’t flinched. Had looked at him like he was worth choosing.

It was unbearable.

Because what if it broke?

What if James woke up and realized what Regulus had always known?

That he wasn’t enough. That he’d never been.

He didn’t stop until he was in his room, the door shut behind him.

Only then did he collapse.

At his desk, Regulus buried his head in his arms, trying to disappear into the silence. The panic still clung to him, prickling at the back of his neck and coiling tight in his stomach. His throat burned. His chest hurt. And worst of all… he felt ashamed.

James sat still, his hand hovering in the space where Regulus had been, his fingers barely grazing the air where Regulus’s cheek had been. His heart sank, a strange emptiness filling him. Confusion clouded his thoughts. He stared after Regulus, watching his retreating form vanish into the house. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so far, so fast.

James raked a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. Regulus wasn’t like anyone he’d ever known. He wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, to voice what he was feeling or what he wanted. Everything about Regulus required time, patience, and care.

He pushed himself to his feet, determination steeling his nerves. He wasn’t going to let Regulus pull back, not this time. He was going to be there, steady and grounding, even if Regulus didn’t know how to ask for it.

The walk to his room felt longer than it should have, but when he reached the door, James hesitated, his hand hovering just above the wood. He could feel his heart pounding, could hear the rush of his own breath. What if I make it worse?

James shook his head, forcing the doubts aside. This wasn’t about him. It was about Regulus.

He knocked softly, the sound barely audible. There was a faint grumble from inside, a noise so quiet James almost missed it. Taking it as permission, he opened the door slowly and stepped inside.

Regulus was at his desk, head down on his folded arms, utterly still. The sight made James’s heart clench. Regulus didn’t move as James crossed the room, his footsteps careful, almost hesitant. When he reached him, James placed his hands on Regulus’s shoulders, light and steady.

He began to rub slow, gentle circles, his thumbs pressing lightly into the knots of tension he found there. At first, there was no response, but then he felt it, a small shift, the way Regulus’s rigid posture softened just a little, leaning into his touch.

James worked in silence, his movements deliberate and soothing. He let his hands move down the length of Regulus’s arms, brushing softly against his sleeves before sliding back up to his shoulders.

Regulus hated how steady James was, how constant. It was this care, this gentleness, that shook him to his core. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it. He did, more than anything, but that was the problem. James was all in, and Regulus wasn’t sure he knew how to be the same.

When James leaned down, his voice low and tender, Regulus stiffened. “Reggie…”

The sound of his name made something inside Regulus twist. His fingers tightened around his arms, his jaw clenching as he fought the urge to flee again. He wanted this. He wanted James. But he was a mess of fear, his mind still haunted by the shadows of his family, his past, and the future he wasn’t sure he could escape. Not even now. Not even here.

James let his hands slide down Regulus’s arms again, slow and deliberate, before moving around to kneel at the side of the chair. He placed a hand lightly on Regulus’s thigh, his thumb brushing over the fabric of his trousers in soothing strokes.

“You can talk to me, Reg. I’ll always be here to listen,” James said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He watched as Regulus’s breathing hitched, the rise and fall of his chest quickening slightly. Still, Regulus didn’t speak, didn’t move.

James leaned forward, resting his forehead against Regulus’s upper arm. “Look at me, Reggie. Please?”

Regulus didn’t want to look, didn’t want to give in, but the emotion in James’s voice, the soft pleading tone was enough to break through the walls he’d built around himself. Slowly, Regulus lifted his head and turned to meet James’s gaze.

James smiled softly, his hand moving to rest on the armrest of the chair as he gently turned it to face him fully. Now eye level with Regulus, James let his hands settle on his knees, his thumbs brushing over them lightly.

“There we go,” he murmured, his voice warm and steady, even as his heart pounded in his chest.

Regulus swallowed hard, his eyes flickering down to where James’s hands rested, feeling their warmth seep through his trousers. For once, he didn’t pull away.

James’s hands tightened on Regulus’s knees, his voice was soft, coaxing. “Tell me what’s wrong, Reg. We can work it out together.”

That word together latched onto something deep in Regulus’s chest, pulling it tight. It was the way James said it, like a promise.

Regulus’s chest ached. He stared down at James, at his strong, steady hands, his steady gaze, his steady everything. James Potter was much too good for him. Too pure. He wasn’t tarnished by the same darkness that haunted Regulus. James was unwavering, loyal to the bone, and Regulus… Regulus was fractured, broken in ways he didn’t even know how to begin mending.

What could he possibly offer James in return?

His gaze flicked to James’s lips. Memories from the night before rushed forward unbidden. James whispering praises against his skin, holding him as though he were something divine. The way James had looked at him, like he was the most beautiful thing in the world.

He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve him.

The emotions swirled like a storm in his head, and Regulus, who had never been good at talking about his feelings, did the only thing he could think of.

He grabbed James by the front of his shirt and yanked him forward into a kiss, rough and desperate.

The force of it surprised James, but he didn’t pull back. Regulus kissed him fiercely, it wasn’t neat or careful, it was raw, bruising, and filled with an urgency that stole the breath from both of them.

Regulus made a broken noise deep in his throat, his hands tightening in James’s shirt, keeping him close. He licked into James’s mouth, deep and unrelenting, as if trying to ground himself in this moment, in him. He kissed James like he needed him to survive, like he could lose himself completely in him and it still wouldn’t be enough.

James’s hands were steady, one coming up to cradle the side of Regulus’s jaw, the other pressing gently against his thigh. James kissed him back, but just as Regulus tried to deepen it further, James pulled back slightly.

“Reggie…” James’s voice was breathless but soft, full of care as his forehead rested against Regulus’s. “Talk to me.”

Regulus shook his head sharply, his hands clutching at James’s shirt as though letting go would be a mistake. His eyes, wide and full of turmoil, met James’s. 

“Don’t wanna talk, James.” His voice was raw, almost pleading. He leaned forward, closing the small distance between them, his lips brushing James’s again. 

James hesitated. He could see it, the emotion in Regulus’s eyes, the cracks in his walls. He wanted to press him, to urge him to talk, to trust him with the weight of whatever was crushing him. But before he could speak, Regulus kissed him again.

This time, Regulus pulled back just enough to whisper, his voice barely audible, “Please, Jamie.”

It was that soft, desperate plea that broke through James’s restraint.

He didn’t fight it anymore. He surrendered to Regulus entirely, leaning back into the kiss with a fervor that matched the desperation in Regulus’s movements. This kiss was different. Deeper, hungrier, more consuming. James kissed him like he was claiming him, like he wanted to erase every doubt and fear in Regulus’s mind.

Regulus made a noise that was almost a whine, his body taut with need as he tugged at James’s hair, his fingers tangling in the messy strands. He nipped at James’s lips sharply, before pulling him closer, his knees parting to make room for James to slot between them.

James’s hands roamed, sliding from Regulus’s thighs to his hips, his waist, gripping him firmly as though to anchor him. He poured himself into the kiss, tasting Regulus like he couldn’t get enough, like he never would.

Regulus arched into him, his body wound tight. “James,” he breathed against his mouth.

James didn’t stop, didn’t hold back. His grip on Regulus tightened as he kissed him harder, deeper, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of his neck, the other gripping his hip. He wanted Regulus to feel it—to know that he was all in, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

For a fleeting moment, the thoughts raging in Regulus’s mind quieted, leaving nothing but the heat of James’s touch, the steady weight of his presence. It was overwhelming, consuming exactly what he needed.

Without thinking, Regulus rolled his hips forward, pressing against James’s abdomen. His breath hitched audibly at the sensation, a gasp that cut through the silence.

He wanted James. All of him. He wanted to surrender completely, to offer every fractured, broken piece of himself to the one person who might somehow make him whole again.

James’s fingers tightened on Regulus’s hip, firm and grounding, halting his movements. His jaw clenched as he battled with himself internally. Regulus might want this now, but was it what he needed?

He wanted to stop, to pull back and coax Regulus into talking to him, into sharing the weight of whatever he was carrying. But then Regulus whimpered against his mouth, a desperate, broken sound that cut through James’s resolve like a blade. Regulus tried to rock his hips again, pressing forward as if he couldn’t bear the space between them, and James’s body responded instinctively, heat pooling low in his stomach.

Still, he forced himself to pull back, just enough to break the kiss. “Reggie, baby” James murmured, his voice soft but steady. “Let me in. You can talk to me—”

But Regulus didn’t let him finish. He tugged at James’s hair with trembling fingers, a whine spilling from his lips as he pressed forward again, straining against James’s hold. His voice cracked as he pleaded, raw and vulnerable. 

“Please, Jamie. Please—need you to touch me. Talk later. Want you so bad, don’t make me wait anymore, please.”

James groaned low in his throat, the sound escaping before he could stop it. He wanted to be stronger than this, to hold his ground and keep his resolve. But when it came to Regulus when Regulus looked at him like this, lips swollen and cheeks flushed, need etched into every line of his face. James was a weak, weak man.

He tried to steady himself, but then Regulus surged forward again, his hips rocking against James’s abdomen with a desperation that made James’s grip falter. The second James’s hold slackened, Regulus took advantage, pressing forward like he needed it, his jaw falling slack as a low moan tore from his throat.

“Merlin, Regulus,” James breathed, his voice thick as he watched, entranced. Every devastating, deliberate circle of Regulus’s hips, every tragically beautiful sound that escaped him, was intoxicating. James’s hands slid to rest against Regulus’s thighs, his thumbs brushing over the fabric in a soothing motion.

“Not so fast, yeah?” James murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze stayed fixed on Regulus, taking in every detail. The flush spreading across his skin, the way his lashes fluttered as he lost himself in the moment.

Regulus moaned softly, his head tipping back slightly as his movements slowed, but the need in his eyes didn’t waver.

James leaned forward, his movements slower now, measured, deliberate. His hand cradled Regulus’s jaw, controlling the kiss as if to remind him exactly who was in charge. Regulus still moved against him, grinding helplessly, but James kept him tethered to his pace, forcing him to feel every moment, every stroke of his tongue, every press of his lips.

James knew Regulus wanted a distraction from whatever was going on in that mind of his. Wanted James to make him forget, make him feel good. And who was James to deny him?

When James pulled back, it wasn’t far. His eyes burned with something commanding as his hands moved to grip Regulus’s hips, pinning them tightly against the chair.

“As much as I love watching you rub yourself on me like the desperate little thing you are, baby” James murmured, his voice rough, “I don't want you forgetting whose in charge here.”

He punctuated the statement by biting down on Regulus’s lower lip, tugging just enough to make him gasp. Then, with a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, James shifted his focus, trailing kisses down the line of Regulus’s jaw and throat. His teeth scraped lightly over sensitive skin as he went, drawing shivers and soft noises from Regulus.

James reached for his wand, casting a quick spell on the room and to remove the concealment charm hiding the marks he’d left on him the night before. One by one, the bruises and bites reappeared, scattered like a constellation across Regulus’s pale skin. 

“Much better,” he murmured, lowering his head to lap at the marks with his tongue. He traced each one deliberately, soothing and teasing in equal measure, while adding fresh ones wanting him covered. Regulus squirmed beneath him, his breathing uneven, his hips bucking despite James’s firm grip.

“Be still,” James said, his voice a low rumble. He slid his hands down the length of Regulus’s body, grazing over his bulge with maddeningly light pressure. Regulus gasped sharply, his hips jerking up reflexively as the teasing touch sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

“Look at you,” James continued, “so needy for me. Love it when you’re a messy, desperate little thing.” His hands moved to the fastening of Regulus’s trousers, undoing them slowly. He dragged the fabric down inch by inch, pressing open-mouthed kisses to every sliver of skin he revealed, carefully avoiding his cock.

“James, if you don’t stop teasing—” Regulus started, only to be cut off by a sharp cry as James bit down on the inside of his thigh.

“You’ll do what, exactly?” James asked, his voice darkly amused as he glanced up at Regulus. “Beg? Plead in that sweet little wrecked voice i love so much?” He leaned in closer, his breath fanning over Regulus’s clothed cock, and smirked as it twitched in response. Regulus let out a choked sound, his head falling back as he fought to keep control.

James pressed his lips against the fabric, mouthing at Regulus’s erection with just enough pressure to drive him mad. The noises that spilled from his lips were wrecked, unrestrained, each one sending a fresh jolt of heat coursing through James.

“Go on, love,” James whispered against him. “Beg for it, and maybe I’ll consider giving you what you want.”

Regulus let out a frustrated mewl, his hands tangling in James’s hair. He tugged sharply, trying to press James down further as he lifted his hips in a desperate bid for more contact. But James’s hands tightened on his hips, his grip nearly bruising as he forced him back down.

“Keep those hips still, Reggie,” James ordered, his voice like steel. “Move them again, and I swear I’ll get myself off right here in front of you and leave you with nothing.”

The threat sent a shudder through Regulus, his breaths coming in shallow pants as he tried to obey, his body trembling with the effort to stay still. His gaze flicked down to James, who looked utterly in control, utterly devastating.

Regulus swallowed hard, his lips parting as he whispered, “Please, Jamie.”

“That’s a good start, love,” James murmured. “Let’s see if you can do better.”

Regulus’s breaths came fast and shallow, his chest heaving as James dragged his tongue languidly along his inner thigh. “Merlin, James… please. Gods, please—want it so bad.” 

James let out a quiet chuckle, the sound vibrating against Regulus’s skin as he leaned in to mouth at him through the thin fabric of his boxers. Regulus’s entire body jolted, a throaty moan escaping him as his fingers tightened their grip on James’s shoulders. 

“Please, Jamie,” Regulus begged, voice shaking with desperation. “You’ve been making me wait all day.”

James lifted his head just enough to meet Regulus’s gaze, a wicked smile curving his lips. His hands splayed possessively over Regulus’s hips as his thumbs dipped beneath the waistband, but he didn’t pull them down. Instead, he licked over the straining length beneath, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the drawing it out.

“You gonna be good for me, love?” James asked, his voice soft but commanding.

Regulus bit his lip hard, his jaw flexing as he nodded, trying to ground himself. But James’s hand tightened, a firm pinch to his thigh making him jolt.

“Hmm?” James prompted, his voice edged with warning. “I need to hear you, baby.”

“Yes—fuck, James. I’ll be good for you,” Regulus finally managed, his voice strained but sincere.

James’s grin softened, though his gaze burned with intent as he slowly hooked his fingers into the waistband of Regulus’s boxers. His lips brushed against the sharp jut of Regulus’s hipbone as he murmured, “Lift your hips for me.”

Regulus didn’t hesitate, his body obeying instinctively as he arched up to help James ease the fabric down. A sharp gasp tore from his throat as the cool air hit his exposed skin, making him twitch under James’s heated gaze.

“Merlin, you’re gorgeous,” James murmured, as his tongue darted out to trace the sharp edge of a hipbone. His hands slid under the hem of Regulus’s shirt, pushing it up to reveal more pale, flawless skin, which he lavished with open-mouthed kisses.

Regulus whimpered, his body arching toward every touch, his fingers fisting tightly on the arm rests beneath his hands as James took his time, unhurried and methodical. He wasn’t just teasing, he was worshiping.

“More,” Regulus choked out, his voice cracking with need as he tried to shift his hips, trying to reach for anything. “Please.”

He nipped at Regulus’s thigh again, earning a breathless moan, before lifting his head to lock eyes with him.

“So noisy, baby,” James said, his tone teasing. 

Regulus’s entire body trembled, his cock aching and leaking steadily, desperate for relief. James’ teasing was merciless. Every time Regulus’s hips twitched, threatening to buck up on their own accord, James’s fingers flexed against his thighs in silent warning, holding him down.

Then, torturously slow, James leaned in and pressed the lightest kiss to the swollen tip of Regulus’s cock. The sensation was maddening, fleeting, as James trailed a series of feather-light kisses down his length, all the way to the base. Regulus let out a broken moan when James’s lips found the sensitive skin where his prick met his balls, sucking there gently, his tongue tracing lazy circles.

Regulus mewled, his eyes fluttering shut as his thighs clenched involuntarily beneath James’s firm grip. “More, more—fucking please,” he choked out, his voice trembling with need. “Need it so bad, Jamie, need you—”

James smirked against his skin, unhurried as he kissed his way back up, his tongue flicking across the tip with devastating precision. Regulus cried out, the sound raw and wrecked, his chest heaving with the effort to keep himself in check.

“Patience, baby,” James murmured, his voice soft yet commanding. His thumbs pressed soothing circles into Regulus’s hips, a stark contrast to the heat pooling between them. “I’m not done enjoying you, yet.”

Regulus made a frustrated, pathetic noise, his hands twitching where they gripped the arm rests. “C-can’t you go faster than this?”

James’s response was swift and deliberate. He pulled away from Regulus’s cock entirely, only to sink his teeth into the delicate skin of his hip. It drew a startled yelp from Regulus.

“What did I just say?” James reprimanded, his voice low and steady as he looked up at Regulus. His expression was firm, though his gaze softened slightly as he took in the sight before him.

Regulus looked utterly undone. His wide, glassy eyes shone with unshed tears, his lips parted as he gasped for breath. He stared down at James like he wanted to offer him the world, like he’d already surrendered every piece of himself.

Regulus bit his lip hard, stifling the needy little whines climbing up his throat, but James wasn’t having it.

“You know I want you to answer me, love,” James said, his voice dipping into a rasp that sent shivers down Regulus’s spine. “What did I say?”

“Patience,” Regulus breathed, his voice barely audible, but obedient.

James nodded, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “That’s right, baby.” He dipped his head back down, deliberately exhaling warm breaths over Regulus’s leaking cock. The sheer proximity made him shudder, a moan escaping his lips despite his best efforts.

“Now,” James continued, his tone soft but authoritative, “keep your promise. Be a good boy and stop complaining. Understand?”

Regulus hissed sharply as James circled the head of his cock with his tongue, pausing deliberately, waiting for a response.

“Yes.”

“That’s it,” James murmured, his voice dripping with praise as he finally gave in. “So good.”

James flattened his tongue and dragged it down the entire length of him, slow and deliberate, savoring every inch. He licked all the way to the base, pausing to lave attention to the sensitive skin there before trailing back up. This time, he wrapped his lips around the head, drawing him into the heat of his mouth.

Regulus couldn’t stop the noises spilling from him, his restraint crumbling entirely. He felt as though he could drown in James—would let himself sink without resistance.

When James suddenly took him down to the hilt, Regulus arched off the chair with a cry, his trembling hands burying themselves in James’s hair.

As he pulled back up, he flicked his tongue in a way that had Regulus gasping, the sound catching in his throat. Then James swirled his tongue over the slit, tasting him, and Regulus’s head tipped back, eyes fluttering, as a wrecked groan escaped him.

“Uhh…uhh—holy shit, James, that feels so good,” Regulus babbled, his voice unrestrained, a steady stream of broken, desperate sounds spilling from him.

James smirked, increasing his pace, moving feverishly now. He took Regulus deep, the head of his cock brushing the back of James’s throat, and Regulus lost control for a fleeting moment, his hips bucking instinctively.

James immediately pressed them back down with firm hands, his grip a warning, and Regulus gasped, his whole body trembling as he forced himself to hold still.

But then James began to pull away, slow and deliberate, and panic surged through Regulus’s chest.

“Fuck—Jamie,” he pleaded, his voice desperate, trembling. “Please—don’t stop. I’m sorry, I’ll be so good, I swear. Please.” His words cracked, a sob catching at the edges as he begged.

But James pulled off entirely, his lips curling into a soft, teasing smile as Regulus whimpered helplessly, his body squirming beneath him.

“It’s alright, baby,” James murmured, his voice soothing as he leaned up to press a gentle, lingering kiss to Regulus’s lips.

When he pulled back, his eyes roamed over Regulus, “Look at you,” he praised, his voice thick with admiration. “Trembling under me. So flushed and pretty.”

Regulus let out a shaky moan at the words, his cheeks burning with heat as James’s hand wrapped around the base of his cock. James gave him one slow tug and Regulus cried out.

“You sound so perfect, love,” James murmured, his grip tightening just enough to draw another wrecked moan from Regulus. “Let me hear you, yeah? Let me take care of you.”

“Please, I was so close,” Regulus pleaded, his head falling back. The marks James had left on him the night before stood out vividly against his pale skin. “So close, Jamie—“

Possessiveness coiled in James like a tightly wound spring. No one else could see Regulus like this, hear him like this. This was his and his alone.

He growled low in his throat, leaning closer. “What do you want, baby?”

As he spoke, he twisted his wrist in a calculated motion, sliding up Regulus’s cock with deliberate pressure. A choked, desperate noise tore from Regulus’s throat, his thighs trembling violently as he fought the urge to move.

“Your mouth—please, James,” Regulus panted, his messy hair falling into his eyes as he gazed down at him, his pupils blown wide with desire. “Felt so good around me—please.” 

James’s lips curved into a smirk. He couldn’t argue with that, could he?

Without another word, he dipped his head, taking Regulus in again without hesitation. Regulus keened, his body arching, his fingers tightening their grip in James’s hair.

Regulus was unraveling beneath him, and James could feel it. The way his hips twitched uncontrollably now, the way his breaths came in uneven, shallow gasps. His moans grew longer, more drawn out, tipping into incoherent babbling as he teetered on the edge.

And just as that final wave was about to crash, James pulled off.

The response was visceral, Regulus sobbed, his whole body jerking, thrashing against James as though he could force him back down.

“Fuck—please, let me cum,” he rasped, his voice cracking. “Please, Jamie. I’ve been so good. So good for you, right?” He clung to James desperately, trying to pull him closer. “Wanna cum so bad, so fucking bad.”

“Do you know how much I love seeing you like this?” James murmured, a wicked smile curling his lips. “All on edge and fucking desperate. Such a desperate little slut for me, aren’t you?”

He let his fingers trail lightly over Regulus’s cock, barely touching him, the teasing contact making it jump under his touch.

Regulus nodded frantically, as he let out a string of broken pleas. “Yes—yes, I am,” he babbled, his hips rolling forward in search of more, the teasing only making the ache worse. “Just for you.”

James watched him with hunger in his eyes, savoring the sight of Regulus so completely lost in pleasure. His composure, his sharpness, his usual guarded demeanor. All of it was gone. He was shaking, pliant, and utterly wrecked, reduced to nothing but a mess.

And James loved every second of it.

James pressed his palm against his own aching cock, seeking some relief from the building pressure. His eyes remained fixed on Regulus, who followed the motion with parted lips, a small, needy whine escaping him.

“Please—I need more,” Regulus begged, his nails digging into James’s shoulders with a desperate urgency. “I promise, I’ll listen, I’ll be so good. Such a good boy, Jamie.” 

James chuckled softly, low and indulgent. “But I’m enjoying this far too much, sweetheart. You truly are a vision.” His voice was velvet as his free hand rubbed slow, deliberate circles into Regulus’s hip and thigh, refusing to grant him the touch he craved.

Regulus groaned in frustration as he tugged at his own hair, the muscles in his abdomen clenching while his cock throbbed and leaked on his stomach. James leaned forward, licking away a bead of precum that slid down Regulus, earning the prettiest noise from his beautiful wrecked baby. 

“I don’t want you to cum until I say so, alright?” James whispered, his breath hot against Regulus’s sensitive skin. “Think you can do that for me?”

Regulus shook his head, trembling. “I—I can’t hold on, James.”

James smirked, his voice soft but commanding. “Try for me.”

The teasing ended there. James resumed with renewed fervor, his tongue working in perfect rhythm—swirling, flicking, flattening against the sensitive flesh. He hollowed his cheeks, taking Regulus deeper with every stroke.

Regulus shook uncontrollably, his legs tightening around James, nails digging into his skin, almost to the point of pain. But James didn’t care. Not when Regulus sounded like this. Not when every broken sob and moan spilled from him like music, raw and intoxicating.

James groaned around him, the vibration driving Regulus even closer to the edge. His voice broke into desperate sobs, “J-James, I can’t—” He gasped, his words dissolving into a trembling cry. “I’m gonna cum—please, let me. I’m so fucking close—I need—”

James started to move slower, unbearably slow. The teasing dragged out every ounce of desperation in him, and Regulus couldn’t help the loud, needy whines spilling from his lips like he had no control.

He babbled, words tumbling out in a frantic rush, “Fuck—please, James. I need to move, I can’t—please, let me. Just want—just need—”

But Regulus didn’t wait for James’s permission. He couldn’t. His hips jerked upward, canting into James’s mouth, thrusting deep enough to hit the back of James’s throat. The broken moans leaving him were wrecked and shameless as he sought his release.

James allowed it—briefly. He let Regulus get in a few desperate, wild thrusts before pulling off just as Regulus was about to tip over the edge for what had to be the third time.

The denial hit like a curse. Tears finally spilled, rolling down Regulus’s flushed cheeks. James had been teasing him all day, bringing him so close to release only to snatch it away, over and over. The frustration, the need, it was awful.

Regulus sobbed, his voice breaking as he begged. “James, please—please, I can’t anymore—” The words tumbled out, frantic and incoherent, but James cut him off, wiping at his mouth with deliberate slowness.

“Remember what I told you would happen if you weren’t good for me, baby?” James’s voice was dark, tinged with amusement.

Regulus whimpered, tears still glistening in his eyes, and nodded weakly.

“Can you tell me what it was?”

Regulus made a broken noise, squeezing his eyes shut, his fingers gripping the armrests of the chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Please…” he whispered, voice cracking.

James grabbed his jaw forcing Regulus to meet his gaze. “Try again.”

When Regulus spoke, his voice was wrecked, trembling with effort. “Said I’d get…n-nothing.” Another tear slipped down his cheek.

“Mmm, very good,” James rumbled, brushing his thumb over the tear, smearing it gently across Regulus’s cheek. His lips curled into a grin. “You look so pretty when you cry for me, Reg. So beautiful.”

He leaned in, capturing Regulus’s lips in a messy, claiming kiss. His tongue slid into Regulus’s mouth, massaging against his own, dominating the kiss with a fervor that left Regulus breathless. Then, without warning, James pulled back and began to stand.

Regulus’s hands shot out, trembling, desperate to hold onto him, to keep him close. “James, don’t—please, don’t,” he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation.

James smirked, stepping out of Regulus’s grasp with maddening ease.

“I warned you, Reg. You didn’t listen,” James said, his voice low and dangerous. “Now you get to watch me cum while you sit there and think about how you’re going to make it up to me. Yeah?”

He unfastened his trousers, freeing his cock. He wrapped a firm hand around himself, tugging slowly at first, relieving some of the ache. His half-lidded eyes never left Regulus, watching every reaction with predatory intent.

Regulus’s cock twitched against his stomach, almost painfully, as though it had a mind of its own. His hips jerked upward into the empty air, a pitiful, broken whine spilling from his lips. His hands twitched in his lap, the overwhelming urge to touch himself nearly unbearable.

James moaned softly, swiping his thumb across the head of his cock, collecting the slick precum. He stepped closer to Regulus, lifting his thumb to Regulus’s parted lips without a word.

Regulus’s mouth opened immediately, obediently. When James pressed the pad of his thumb to his tongue, a low, helpless moan escaped Regulus. He closed his lips around it, savoring the taste, eyes fluttering shut as he sucked lightly.

James pulled his thumb back with a smirk, tilting Regulus’s chin downward. “Spit, baby,” he murmured.

Regulus obeyed without hesitation, saliva pooling on his tongue before he let it drip onto James’s waiting hand. James smiled at him, something darkly adoring in the gesture, as he used the slickness to stroke himself. His movements quickened, his eyes never leaving Regulus’s flushed, trembling body.

Regulus couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop himself. The pleading came in waves, a mix of apologies and desperation. “Please, James—please, I’m sorry, I’ll be so good. Just let me—”

James knew better. Reggie wouldn’t be good. He couldn’t be good. Not now. Not when he was this far gone, this needy. James’s lips curled into a smirk at the thought, heat pooling low in his stomach. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice rough and uneven. “Wish i could take a fucking picture—fuck, Reg, you have no idea.”

Regulus gasped in response, his wide, glassy eyes fixed on James’s hand as it worked over his cock. He watched every movement like he was entranced, his breathing shallow, his lips parted. The heat radiating off his body was unbearable, and James could feel it even from where he stood, like it was drawing him in.

James tightened his grip, stroking himself faster as he leaned in just slightly, his gaze locked on Regulus. “Keep begging, sweetheart,” he murmured. His eyes darkened, his chest heaving as another low moan escaped his throat. “I fuckin’ love it.” 

“Please,” Regulus gasped, his voice breaking. “Please, James—uhh, I can’t—I need… I’ll be a good boy, I swear, I’ll do anything, Jamie—” His words dissolved into a choked sob, his body trembling harder as tears welled up in his eyes, spilling over in slow streaks. He squirmed, trying to find some relief, but the ache in his body only worsened. “Whatever you want—everything you want—“

James’s lips curled into a wicked grin, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at the sight of Regulus unraveling before him. “That’s it, baby,” he said, his voice low and rich with approval. “Tell me how much you want me.” He moaned again, louder this time, tilting his head back as his hand worked over himself.

“James, I’m so sorry, I can’t take it, I need you, I need—please.” His voice broke into a sob.

Almost without thinking, Regulus’s hand moved, grasping himself in a desperate attempt to find even a moment of relief. He barely managed a single stroke before James’s hand shot out, snatching his wrist away.

“Ah-ah,” James chided, his tone sharp but still teasing. With a flick of his wand, ropes coiled tightly around Regulus’s hands, binding them to the arms of the chair. Regulus gasped, his wide, tear-filled eyes snapping to James in shock.

James set his wand down on the table beside them, his grin smug and self-satisfied. “You don’t get to touch yourself, baby. You get to watch me.”

James resumed stroking himself, his pace quickening his head falling back in pleasure. His free hand dragged down his chest, teasing his own skin, his body taut with tension as he gave Regulus a show.

“You’ve been acting like a brat,” James chastised, his voice deep and commanding. “And brats don’t get what they want, do they?”

Regulus let out a broken, desperate noise, shaking his head weakly. “No… no, they don’t,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he sobbed quietly, his head falling back against the chair.

He squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed. Every sound James made, every movement, every teasing glance was too much. He groaned softly, his body trembling with frustration and need.

A rough hand tangled in his hair, tugging sharply, and his eyes flew open. James was right in front of him now, his dark gaze boring into Regulus’s with an intensity that stole his breath.

“Take your eyes off me again, and you won’t like what happens,” James threatened, his voice sharp as he tugged Regulus forward by his hair. The head of James’s cock traced across Regulus’s swollen lips, and without hesitation, Regulus stuck out his tongue, licking tentatively, drawing a breathless stutter from James’s hips.

“Keep going,” James ordered, his tone rough, almost desperate. His hand continued to work himself as Regulus sucked the tip into his mouth, tongue lapping eagerly, a low moan vibrating against James.

“Fuck, that mouth, Reggie. So perfect.” James’s voice broke slightly, his pleasure building rapidly as Regulus swirled his tongue with practiced precision. He could feel the edge rushing toward him, unstoppable.

“Open your mouth,” James growled, pulling back just in time to let the first rope of cum spill across Regulus’s face and tongue. He groaned deeply, watching each spurt land on Regulus’s eyelids, cheeks, lips, and chin, the sight somehow intensifying everything. James felt himself throb even harder, burying himself shallowly into Regulus’s open mouth to ride out the last of it.

When he finally pulled away, his chest heaving, he stared down at Regulus, who was now utterly wrecked. His face glistened with evidence of James’s release, his lips slightly parted, his chest rising and falling as he panted.

“You destroy me, Reg,” James murmured, his voice softer now but no less intense. He grabbed Regulus’s jaw, tilting his face up. “So beautiful like this. I wish you looked like this all the fucking time,” he breathed, his eyes roving over Regulus hungrily.

James pushed him back into the chair with a satisfied smirk, admiring the sight before him. Regulus’s wrists were still bound tightly, his body trembling, his cock aching painfully against his stomach.

Regulus couldn’t stop himself, he begged, loud and unrestrained, his voice thick with desperation. “Please, please, James. It hurts so bad. Please let me cum. I’ll do anything you want—fuck. Just do something.” 

James’s smirk deepened. He grabbed his wand, undoing the bindings in one fluid motion. He held out a hand, and Regulus took it shakily, allowing James to pull him to his feet. Without hesitation, James kissed him, hard and possessive, uncaring of the mess still streaked across Regulus’s face. Their tongues slid together in a messy tangle before James pulled away abruptly, his grip firm as he spun Regulus around and bent him over the bed.

James pressed a hand to Regulus’s back, pinning him in place, and brought his other hand down with a  smack against his arse. Regulus cried out, the sound high-pitched and utterly wrecked, sending a jolt of heat through James.

“You don’t deserve it, do you, Reg?” James asked, his hand rubbing over the tender, heated skin. “Bad little boys don’t get to cum, do they?”

Regulus moaned, his voice breaking. “No—James—fuck.”

“Mmm,” James hummed approvingly. His hand landed another smack, eliciting a sharp, garbled cry from Regulus.

“Wanna know how you’ll make it up to me, baby?” James asked, his tone both teasing and commanding.

Regulus nodded weakly, his body trembling, entirely at James’s mercy.

“You’re gonna get on the bed properly, face and chest down, knees as wide as they’ll go. And you’re gonna fuck yourself open for me, yeah?” James’s voice was low.

Regulus choked on a moan, trembling at the weight of those words. He hated how much he loved this, how much he wanted to please James, how badly the sheer humiliation made him ache.

“Yes—yes,” Regulus sobbed, moving shakily to position himself on the bed. His face pressed against the mattress, and he spread his knees, his back arching naturally in submission.

“That’s it, baby, wider,” James urged, his voice husky with approval. His hands followed the curve of Regulus’s trembling body, brushing over every inch of bare skin. The warmth of James’s touch set Regulus on fire, and he complied without hesitation, shifting until his hips ached and his thighs strained.

James smirked at the sight, his gaze dark with hunger. “That's it, perfect,” he murmured, reaching into the bedside drawer for the lube. “Hold out your hand.”

Regulus obeyed immediately, his hand trembling as James squeezed a generous amount of the cool liquid onto his palm. He whimpered softly, the anticipation alone enough to make him dizzy.

With shaking fingers, he reached back, circling his hole tentatively. The moment his finger breached, his hips bucked involuntarily, pressing back for more.

“Fuck, look at those beautiful fingers, Regulus,” James breathed, his voice filled with awe and lust. He stood back, watching intently as Regulus worked himself open. The way Regulus’s chest heaved against the mattress, his moans muffled into the sheets, and his thighs quivered—it was addicting. “Hope this helps you learn your lesson, yeah? How to listen.”

Regulus inhaled sharply, nodding as he slipped another finger inside, stretching himself slowly, his face burning with both embarrassment and arousal. His hips pressed back against his hand, desperate for more.

“Good boy,” James praised, his tone soft but commanding. “Take your time for me, baby.”

Regulus moaned at the words, his breath hitching as he scissored his fingers inside himself. “James, please,” he whimpered, his voice cracking. “Need you so bad—”

James leaned forward, his lips brushing along Regulus’ spine. “You’ll get me when I say you’re ready, Reg. Not a moment sooner.”

Regulus sobbed softly into the mattress, his fingers moving faster, his entire body writhing. His desperation only seemed to spur James on.

“You’re doing so well, love,” James murmured, his hands trailing down Regulus’s sides, applying just enough pressure to keep him steady. “I could watch you like this all day.”

Regulus cried out his fingers spreading, the stretch sending shocks of pleasure through him as he desperately tried to reach his prostate. He was so close to unraveling, his body shaking uncontrollably as he pleaded, “James, please—can’t—need you now—”

James smirked, his hand gripping the back of Regulus’s neck gently but firmly, holding him in place. “Not yet, baby. Keep going. Show me how bad you want it.”

Regulus whimpered but obeyed, his fingers slick and trembling as he continued stretching himself, his body practically vibrating with need. James’s praise, his touch, and his dominant tone made every nerve in Regulus’s body feel alive, heightening his desperation.

Finally, when Regulus was shaking and utterly wrecked, James’s voice cut through his haze like a lifeline. “Alright, baby. That’s enough. Let me take over now.”

James reached for him, his hands gentle but firm as he pulled Regulus’s fingers away. “You did so good for me,” he murmured, kissing the back of Regulus’s neck tenderly. “Now let me show you how proud I am.”

James immediately slid two fingers deep inside Regulus, twisting and spreading them as he thrust relentlessly. His fingers curled, pressing against the spot that had Regulus crying out, wailing as his hips bucked, desperate for more.

“Please let me touch myself—can’t cum untouched, please,” Regulus begged, his voice trembling.

“Uh-uh, baby. You’re making this up to me, remember? You’re going to cum exactly how I want you to. Now, hands on the bed where I can see them.”

A pitiful whimper escaped Regulus, but he obeyed, planting his trembling hands on the sheets. He let James take control, surrendering completely. His cock throbbed painfully, begging for release as James worked him faster, urging him closer to the edge.

“You really don’t deserve this,” James murmured, his voice low and teasing as he pulled away entirely.

Regulus let out a frustrated noise of disapproval, but before he could protest further, James grabbed him firmly by the waist and flipped him over, dragging him to the edge of the bed with ease.

“Bend your knees for me,” James commanded, his gaze raking over Regulus’s trembling, flushed body.

Regulus complied, his breath hitching as pressed his feet flat on the mattress.

“Spread ‘em, baby. I wanna see you.”

A shiver ran through Regulus as he let his legs fall open, baring himself completely.

James dropped to his knees, pulling Regulus even closer without hesitation he took Regulus’ cock as deep as it could go and Regulus threw his head back, his hips rocking up into James’s mouth in desperate rhythm.

“So close, Jamie—uhh… uh—oh fuck—” Regulus stuttered, his words breaking into incoherent cries as James slid a finger back inside him thrusting deeply.

Regulus’s entire body seized as he released with a loud, guttural moan. His climax hit hard, spilling into James’s mouth. His body shook violently, trembling as he rode out the waves of pleasure, his voice failing him entirely.

James leaned back slightly, his lips brushing against Regulus’s skin as he whispered soft praises. “That’s it, baby. So good. Gods, you’re so perfect.” He kissed every inch of skin he could reach, his voice reverent. “Beautiful. So devastatingly gorgeous, Reg.”

Regulus made soft, breathless noises, his body spent and his mind hazy with afterglow. He met James’s gaze with a lazy, satisfied smile that tugged at James’s heart.

“You’re unreal,” James murmured, his voice shaky, almost pleading. “I’m ruined, utterly ruined for you, Reg. You’re mine, yeah?”

Regulus nodded, his voice soft but sure. “Yours, James.”

James whispered a cleaning charm over them before crawling into bed beside him, pulling him close. He kissed Regulus’s forehead, cheeks, and nose, his words tender. “I’ll worship you until the day I die, Regulus. I swear it.”

Regulus sank deeper into James, the warmth and safety wrapping around him, and for the first time, he realized it wasn’t as terrifying as he’d imagined. But doubt still lingered at the edges of his mind. Could it really be this simple? This easy?

His heart stuttered at the weight of it all, but he pushed the thoughts away, burying his face in James’s chest, breathing in his scent.

“I want to take you on a proper date,” James said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Regulus lifted his head, looking at him. James’s gaze softened, a smile tugging at his lips. In that moment, Regulus felt like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“What?” Regulus asked, his mind still dazed. 

“Can I take you on a date tomorrow?” James asked, his face flushing, looking almost embarrassed, a stark contrast to the intimacy they’d just shared.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, amused by the shift. “Yeah, I’ll allow it.”

“Allow it? Well, lucky me.” James leaned in, kissing him slow and tender, and Regulus allowed himself to let everything else slip away.

                  *    ~    *   ~   *

After dinner that night, James found Euphemia sitting comfortably by the fireplace, a book in her lap, the flickering flames casting a warm glow across the room. He hesitated for a moment, his thoughts swirling. He had been feeling a mix of excitement and nerves all evening, and now, with his heart racing, he wasn’t sure how to start the conversation.

“Hey, Mum… Can we talk for a minute?” James’s voice came out a little quieter than he intended, and Euphemia looked up from her book with a soft smile, always so welcoming.

“What’s wrong, love?” she asked gently, sensing something was on his mind.

James shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck as he moved to sit. He gave her a sheepish smile, trying to gather his thoughts. “Well… I wanted to let you know that I asked Reggie to…” He trailed off, looking away from her, unsure of how she might react. “…Go on a date with me, tomorrow.”

He could feel his face heating up, and his eyes stayed averted, unwilling to meet her gaze. The thought of his mum’s reaction made him nervous. What if she thought it was too soon? Or worse, what if she didn’t approve?

“Did he agree?” Euphemia asked lightly, her voice soft but curious, as if she was already anticipating the answer.

James smiled, his cheeks flushing even more as he nodded. “Yeah. He said yes.”

Euphemia’s eyes brightened, and her smile grew wider. She reached out to pat his knee lovingly. “That’s great, James.”

“Really?” James asked, surprise in his voice. “You’re okay with it?”

Euphemia tilted her head, her eyes filled with fondness. “Of course, dear. I’ve been waiting for you to come to your senses.”

James blinked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

Euphemia let out a soft, knowing laugh, the corners of her lips curling playfully. “Oh, honey, you’ve been smitten for weeks.”

James’s jaw dropped, and he felt the heat in his face intensify. “What?” He could barely comprehend what she was saying. “You’ve noticed?”

She chuckled again, “James, darling, it’s written all over your face. I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’m not blind, you know.”

James let out a nervous laugh, his fingers running through his hair. “I didn’t think it was that obvious.”

Euphemia smiled warmly at him, her voice tender. “It is, love. But don’t worry, I think it’s wonderful.” She paused for a moment, her gaze softening as she looked at her son. “I’ve been hoping you’d tell him how you felt for a while now.”

James’s heart swelled at her words, and he felt a sense of relief he hadn’t realized he was carrying. “I didn’t want to make things weird. I’ve been waiting to see if he…felt the same.”

Euphemia’s expression softened even more, and she leaned closer to him, her voice gentle but firm. “James, you’re one of the most genuine people I know. Don’t worry about making things weird. Just be yourself. And trust me, Regulus isn’t as hard to read as he thinks.”

James nodded slowly, trying to absorb her words. Her steady assurance was exactly what he needed. “You really think so?”

“I do,” she said simply, her hand squeezing his affectionately. “You’ve been kind and patient with him, and I think Regulus has noticed that. He’s lucky to have someone like you in his life.”

James’s chest tightened at her words, “Thanks, Mum,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I just… I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You won’t, darling,” Euphemia said softly, her eyes filled with warmth. “You’ve already done the hard part.”

James swallowed thickly, feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time. He glanced down at his hands, his thoughts swirling. “What if I’m just… pushing him?”

Euphemia gave him a soft, reassuring smile, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “Then you give him time. If it’s meant to be, James, it will be. But you can’t hold yourself back because of fear. You’ve been honest with him, and that’s all anyone can ask for.”

James let out a shaky breath, finally meeting her gaze. “Thanks, Mum. I really needed to hear that.”

She smiled warmly, her voice tender. “Anytime, hun. I’m always here for you, no matter what.”

James nodded, “I’ll let you know how the date goes,” he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You’d better,” she teased lightly. “I’m expecting all the details.”

James chuckled, feeling the tension finally leave his shoulders. “I will, I promise.”

With one last smile, he stood up, ready to face whatever tomorrow might bring.

That feeling didn’t last quite so long though. 

Later that night James tossed and turned in his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs as his mind raced a mile a minute. Every little detail of the date played in his head over and over again, each scenario unfolding in his mind like some sort of plan that he needed to perfect. He couldn’t stop thinking about it—how he wanted everything to go right, how he wanted Reggie to have a good time, how he wanted Regulus to know that James was serious about this. About him.

He had spent the entire evening with a fluttering chest, and now, lying in the dark, it wasn’t any better. Every time he closed his eyes, another thought popped into his head: What if Reggie didn’t like the date? What is Reggie was unhappy with what James had planned?

James rolled over, pulling the pillow under his head in a way that didn’t help at all. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been planning this in his head for weeks, but now that it was actually happening, tomorrow, of all days, he couldn’t calm down. It was like his nerves had taken over completely. He was restless, tossing back and forth in bed like a caged animal.

Sirius, still awake in the bed next to him, groaned and grabbed a pillow, throwing it across the room with a bit more force than necessary. “For Merlin’s sake, James, go to sleep. It’s literally just Reggie, you know.”

James groaned and grabbed the pillow, chucking it back at him. “Shut up, Sirius.”

Sirius just chuckled, unbothered, mushing the pillow under his head. “Seriously, Prongs, don’t be nervous. I’m sure Reggie will be more than happy with what you’ve got planned.”

“Thanks, Pads,” James mumbled, the irritation in his voice giving way to a bit of exhaustion.

Sirius gave a half-hearted “hmm” before letting out a yawn and closing his eyes, trying to get back to sleep. James stayed awake, staring at the ceiling. The thoughts of Regulus kept swirling in his mind. How he had looked at him earlier, outside, the way his eyes had been wide, unsure. Like he was scared. Scared of what, exactly? Was it him? Was it what James was offering? Was Regulus afraid of something real, of what James wanted to give him?

And then there was the memory of how Regulus had begged him to talk later. Was James pushing too hard? Was he rushing things? It had only been four weeks. Four weeks since Reggie had come into their lives, so fresh, so fragile. James could hardly blame him for being guarded. 

He hadn’t talked much about his past, about what he’d gone through. James couldn’t imagine what that must have been like, and he didn’t want to force him to open up if he wasn’t ready. He could feel Regulus pulling away at times, especially when James tried to ask about his life before. It wasn’t that Reggie didn’t trust him… it was just that it was hard, wasn’t it? To open up to someone when you hadn’t even figured out how to trust yourself.

But despite everything, James was in it. He wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to let Regulus go. Not ever. He wanted him to know that. That James was steady. Constant. That no matter what came, James was there for him. He wanted to be the one Regulus could turn to, even if it meant giving him space to figure it all out.

James ran a hand through his hair, the frustration and uncertainty bubbling up again.

But, no. He wasn’t going to overthink it. Not anymore. Tomorrow was a new day, and whatever happened, he was going to make sure Regulus had the best time. All he wanted was to see him happy.

With a sigh, James finally let his eyelids grow heavy. He could feel sleep creeping up on him, the exhaustion from the night starting to win out over the racing thoughts. His hand fell loosely beside him, and just before he drifted off, he thought about Reggie one last time. He felt his heart settle in his chest, a quiet resolve blooming there.

And with that, he finally fell asleep.

Chapter Text

August 11th

The sun had barely risen, but James was already up, bounding down the stairs with an energy that had Euphemia raising an eyebrow from the kitchen. He looked flustered, his hair messier than usual, his socks mismatched, and his face lit with nervous excitement.

“You’re up early,” she remarked, handing him a steaming mug of tea.

“Big day,” James said, taking a sip and pacing around the kitchen. “Reggie deserves it to be perfect. Do you think he wants strawberries? I was thinking of adding them to the picnic basket, but maybe he prefers something else. What about sandwiches? Should I go simple or fancy?”

Euphemia chuckled softly, turning back to the counter where she was slicing bread. “Relax, James. He’s going to enjoy himself no matter what you pack.”

James huffed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, but what if he doesn’t? What if he thinks it’s boring? Or I talk too much, or not enough and he regrets agreeing to come?”

“Prongs,” Sirius’s voice drawled from the doorway. “You’re spiraling. It’s cute, really.”

James groaned as Sirius strolled into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with an obnoxious grin. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“And miss this?” Sirius gestured at James, “I mean, look at you. It’s like watching a first-year plan their first Hogsmeade trip. Except you’re twenty times worse.”

Euphemia hid a laugh behind her hand as James shot Sirius a glare.

“I’m serious—”

“No, I’m Sirius,” he interrupted with a smirk, dodging the half-hearted slap James aimed at him.

“Not funny.”

“Absolutely hilarious.”

Euphemia set down a plate of fresh bread and began pulling out fruit from the fridge. “James, focus. Strawberries are a good idea. So are some light sandwiches, maybe some biscuits. And if you’re planning a picnic, don’t forget a blanket.”

James perked up at the suggestion. “Right! A blanket! Do we have one that’s not, you know… too flowery?”

“I’ll find something,” Euphemia assured him.

Sirius, meanwhile, grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and took a loud bite. “So, where are you taking him, lover boy? Some grand romantic spot? Sweeping him off his feet with poetry and declarations of undying love?”

James flushed. “We’re going flying first. Then to the bookshop and maybe the apothecary. And, yeah, the picnic after. Something… casual.”

“Casual,” Sirius repeated, shaking his head with a grin. “You’re adorable, Prongs. Truly. Makes me almost sick with cuteness.” 

James rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the nervous grin creeping onto his face. “I just want him to have a good time.”

“Of course, you do,” Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder. “And you will, because you’re James Potter, and you’re annoyingly good at making people happy. Even Reggie.”

James swatted him off, muttering, “Thanks, I think.”

Euphemia handed him a packed basket, smiling warmly. “It’ll be perfect, James.”

“Yeah,” James said, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. I’ve got this.”

“Not with that hair you don’t,” Sirius quipped, earning another glare as James darted upstairs to fix it.

Sirius snickered, turning to Euphemia. “Think I should tell him Regulus already adores him?”

She grinned, shaking her head. “Let him work for it a little. It’s good for him.”

James stood outside Regulus’s door, smoothing his hair for the third time and trying to calm the nervous flutter in his chest. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, then gently knocked and pushed the door open without waiting for an answer.

The sight before him nearly stopped his heart.

Regulus was perched on the windowsill, calm as ever, a book balanced delicately in his hand, sunlight spilling over his sharp features. He looked beautiful—perfect, as always.

James’s chest tightened painfully, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and plastered on a big grin. “Good morning, Reggie.”

Regulus glanced up, his expression softening ever so slightly. “Good morning.”

Without a second thought, James strode over and leaned in to kiss him tenderly. His lips lingered, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“Be ready in thirty minutes,” James said against his lips, his voice warm but firm. “No exceptions.”

As he pulled back, Regulus caught his shirt and tugged him back into a deeper kiss, his hand sliding into James’s hair. James let out a soft, surprised noise, his resolve faltering as the kiss deepened. He felt himself sinking, his hands gripping Regulus’s waist, his knees nearly buckling.

For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them, and James seriously considered canceling the entire date to stay here, wrapped up in Regulus all day.

But with monumental effort, James pulled back, his forehead resting against Regulus’s. His breath was uneven, his cheeks flushed. “You’re making this very difficult, you know.”

Regulus smirked faintly, his lips still tingling. “Am I?”

James groaned, unable to resist the pull of Regulus’s lips, and kissed him again, deeper, rougher. He tangled his fingers in Regulus’s perfect hair, pulling him closer. When he finally pulled back, he nipped at Regulus’s bottom lip playfully.

“Thirty minutes, alright, baby?” James whispered, his voice low and tender as he caressed Regulus’s cheek.

Regulus leaned forward instinctively as James pulled back, chasing his lips. James just smiled and shook his head, a soft laugh escaping him as he stepped away.

“Be ready,” James said with a grin, his heart still racing, before leaving the room, his eyes lingering on Regulus for a moment longer as he shut the door behind him. Going to make final preparations.

Nearly the entire thirty minutes went by and James rubbed his hands through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time, his fingers tugging at the strands in frustration as he tried to make himself look presentable. It wasn’t working. 

His hair was sticking out in every direction, no matter how many times he tried to tame it. With a sigh, he turned back to the basket on the bed, adjusting the blankets and food inside again. Everything had to be perfect. It was their first date. He wanted everything to be just right.

Sirius appeared in the doorway, still in his pajamas, leaning against the frame with a mischievous grin on his face. “You know, you’re going to be late at this rate. Did you forget how to pack a basket or something?”

James shot him a look. “Very funny, Pads. Just… help me with this, will you?” He was trying to get everything just right, every detail accounted for. It was important to him. This wasn’t just some casual outing. It was the date. The one that had been building for weeks, whether either of them realized it or not. He needed it to be perfect.

Sirius stepped into the room, still smiling, and began fiddling with the contents of the basket, casually tossing things in like it was no big deal. “You know, you’re probably making this way more complicated than it needs to be. It’s just Reggie, mate. He’s not going to care if the napkins match the picnic blanket.”

James grumbled under his breath but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “I just want it to go well.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his voice suddenly more serious, though still laced with teasing. “You’re utterly hopeless mate, you know that? You like him way too much.” 

James froze for a moment, unsure of how to answer. Instead, he picked up a stray napkin and shoved it into the basket a little too forcefully. “Yeah, well… that’s the problem, isn’t it? What if he doesn’t—”

“James,” Sirius interrupted, his tone gentler now. He slung an arm around James’s shoulder and pulled him into a quick, one-armed hug. “You’ve got this. We already know he’s head over heels for you and your dumb charm. Merlin knows why.”

James nodded, “Yeah, alright. Thanks, Pads.”

“Anytime,” Sirius said with a wink, shoving James back toward the door. “Now, stop fumbling with all this shit before you make it too perfect and ruin the whole thing.”

James let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re the worst,” he muttered, but there was warmth in his tone. He grabbed the basket, his heart racing again with anticipation. He just hoped he wasn’t overthinking it.

                  *    ~    *    ~    * 

Regulus finished buttoning his shirt, smoothing out the fabric with practiced ease before glancing toward the door. Nearly time. A soft exhale escaped him. He wasn’t nervous, not really, but there was something restless in his chest, something that made his fingers still against the last button.

A knock interrupted his thoughts, followed by the door creaking open without invitation. Sirius leaned against the frame, arms crossed, still clad in his ridiculous pajama pants and a threadbare band tee.

“Well, well, look at you,” Sirius drawled, giving Regulus a once-over. “All dressed up for your big date.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Grow up.”

Sirius smirked, stepping further into the room. “Oh, I have. And I’ve never seen James act like this before.” He perched himself on the edge of Regulus’s bed, shaking his head dramatically. “I swear to Merlin, he’s running around like a spastic mess. I walked in on him agonizing over a bloody basket, muttering to himself like a lunatic.” Sirius huffed a laugh. “You’d think he was preparing for a marriage proposal, not a date.”

Something warm settled in Regulus’s chest. He looked down briefly, as if smoothing his sleeve, before responding in that dry, cool tone Sirius knew too well. “That’s ridiculous.” A beat. “…Endearing, though.”

Sirius grinned. “I know, right? He’s pathetic.”

Regulus hummed in amusement. Silence stretched between them for a moment, comfortable, before Sirius’s grin faded into something softer. “So,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “How do you feel about all this?”

Regulus didn’t answer right away. He smoothed his sleeve again, gaze flickering toward the window, toward the sunlight spilling onto the floor. “I’m… slightly nervous,” he admitted finally. “Though I know I shouldn’t be. James is sweet. I know we’ll have a good time.”

Sirius’s expression shifted into something unreadable, fond, maybe. He nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he murmured, “he is sweet. You picked a good one.”

Regulus scoffed. “Hardly. He picked me.”

Sirius snorted. “I still can’t believe my baby brother went for my best friend.” He shook his head, mock offense written all over his face. “Of all the people, Reg, you had to go for James Bloody Potter.”

Regulus shot him a flat look. “Yes, because clearly it was a personal attack against you.”

Sirius smirked. “Obviously.”

Regulus huffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Sirius grinned, nudging his foot lightly. “And you are about to go on your first real date with someone who adores you. So don’t overthink it, yeah?”

Regulus hesitated, then nodded once. “Yeah.”

Sirius hopped up from the bed, stretching. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it. But if James screws this up—”

“He won’t.”

Sirius paused, studying him, then grinned. “Yeah. I know he won’t.” With that, he turned, heading for the door before pausing one last time. “Try to have fun, Reggie.”

Regulus just rolled his eyes again, but Sirius caught the small, barely-there smile before he slipped out the door.

                  *    ~    *    ~    *

James paced by the front door, basket and blanket shrunk into his pocket. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gone out with Regulus before, it wasn’t like they hadn’t already been… together. 

Twice. 

James was pulled out of his thoughts when eyes fell on Regulus, who had just come to the stairs. The moment he saw him, James was utterly gone.

Dressed in a fitted dark navy button-up with the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, exposing his forearms in a way that made James’s throat go dry. The color was rich, a shade that brought out the sharp silver of his eyes, making them look almost stormy.

The fabric clung just right, not tight, but tailored, smooth against the lean lines of his torso. Paired with well-fitted black trousers that hugged his legs in ways that James couldn’t look at. He just couldn’t. 

James couldn’t help but stare. Did he know what he was doing? The easy confidence in the way Regulus carried himself suggested he might, but there was nothing performative about it. He was just like this. 

James bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself not to let out the ridiculous sound that was threatening to escape him. His fingers twitched at his sides, desperate to reach out, to trace the elegant line of Regulus’s wrist, to tuck a stray curl behind his ear just for an excuse to touch him.

Merlin, he’s unreal.

Then Regulus’s eyes met his, a quiet knowing flickering in their depths, and a small, amused smile curved his perfect lips that just begged and pleaded to be kissed. Tasted. 

James’s heart stuttered.

“Gonna tell me the plan or keep it to yourself?” Regulus asked when he reached James.

James grinned, “keeping it to myself, obviously.”

The moment James finally got to touch him, it nearly knocked the air from his lungs.

His fingers wrapped around Regulus’s hand, warm and solid, and the simple contact sent something electric shooting through him. It was so easy, so natural, like they’d done this a hundred times before. But they hadn’t, and that was what made it impossible to ignore. The way Regulus’s cool fingers fit so effortlessly between his, like they belonged there. Like James had been waiting for this exact moment without even realizing it.

James swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep walking instead of giving in to the overwhelming urge to devour him. 

“Alright, lovebirds,” Sirius drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Behave yourselves, yeah? And don’t traumatize the locals. Wouldn’t want the whole village gossiping about you two.”

James smirked, unable to resist. “Don’t worry, Pads. I’ll keep the public displays of affection to a minimum… unless Regulus insists, of course.” He shot Sirius a playful wink.

Sirius groaned dramatically, throwing his hands over his ears. “Merlin, why did I say anything? I’m regretting it already. Spare me the details, Prongs.”

Both James and Regulus laughed, Sirius mock-glared at his younger brother. “And you! Don’t let him corrupt you.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, his tone dry. “If you’re referring to James, I think it’s too late for both of us.”

Sirius shook his head in exaggerated defeat, waving them off as James tugged Regulus outside, grabbing their brooms and tucking them under their arms. “Go on, then. I can’t stand to look at you a moment longer.”

James laughed again, leaning close to Regulus as they walked toward the field. “He’s just jealous I like you more.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint blush dusting his cheeks. Moments later, they mounted their brooms and soared into the sky, the crisp air rushing past them. James flew ahead, his energy boundless as he looped and spun, showing off with little dives and barrel rolls.

“You’re going to make yourself dizzy,” Regulus called out, his tone even, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

James slowed his broom to glide alongside Regulus, his grin widening. “You’re just mad you don’t look as good as I do while doing it.”

Regulus quirked an eyebrow. “Confidence like yours is exhausting to witness, truly.”

James chuckled, leaning closer as they flew. “You look pretty stunning yourself, actually.” His voice dropped slightly, turning softer. “I could watch you forever.”

Regulus stiffened slightly, his composure faltering as a faint blush crept up his neck. He quickly turned his face away, pretending to scan the horizon. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Potter.”

“Oh, it’ll get me everywhere,” James teased, flying a little closer. “Trust me.”

Regulus huffed, but the corners of his lips betrayed a small smile. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going, or is this a test of my patience?”

James grinned, shaking his head. “Nope. Just keep following me.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but complied, letting James lead the way. They flew for a while longer, the landscape changing as the village came into view. Finally, James descended, landing in front of a quaint bookshop tucked away on a quiet street.

Regulus dismounted, taking in the charming storefront, his reserved demeanor cracking as his eyes lit up in surprise and genuine excitement. “I haven’t been here before,” he admitted, his voice quieter but laced with curiosity.

James watched him, his chest tightening at the sight of Regulus’s rare, unguarded smile. He felt like he’d won some unspoken battle just seeing it. “Well, I figured you’d like it,” he said softly, stepping closer. “Shall we?”

Regulus gave him a small nod, brushing past James to approach the door. James followed, his heart swelling at the thought that maybe, just maybe, this date would be even better than he’d imagined.

The tiny bell above the shop door jingled as they entered, and James held the door open with a flourishing bow. “After you, highness,” he said dramatically, earning an eye roll from Regulus.

“Always with the theatrics.” Regulus muttered, stepping inside.

The bookshop smelled of parchment, ink, and something faintly floral. Dust motes floated in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and the air was thick with a quiet sort of magic that made the place feel timeless. Regulus’s eyes immediately darted to the shelves, his fingers twitching at his sides.

James, however, was watching him. The way Regulus’s posture eased ever so slightly as he scanned the rows, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It all made James’s chest feel warm and tight.

“You look like a kid in Honeydukes,” James said softly, unable to keep the grin off his face.

Regulus paused, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, “Books are much better than sweets, Potter.” 

James blinked in mock disbelief. “Better than sweets? Are you sure about that? Because I think you might be underestimating the charm of a good chocolate frog.”

Regulus smirked, moving down the aisle, his fingers brushing over the leather covers. “Sweets are fleeting. Books—” He paused, as if searching for the right words, “—books offer more. More to learn, more to experience. Sweets are… transient.”

James trailed after him, leaning casually against the shelf as he watched Regulus with a mixture of amusement and admiration. “Fair enough.“

Regulus turned back to the shelves, his expression smoothing into something thoughtful as his eyes skimmed the titles. He plucked one from the shelf, his fingers brushing the soft leather binding as he flipped it open.

“There’s something about the binding,” Regulus murmured, almost to himself. “The texture, the craftsmanship—it’s comforting. And the smell…” He lifted the book slightly, breathing in the faint scent of old parchment and ink. “It’s one of my favorite things about coming to places like this.”

James crossed his arms, watching him with open fondness. “You’re poetic when it comes to books, you know that?”

Regulus huffed a soft laugh, closing the book with a gentle snap. “Someone has to be, considering your idea of quality literature includes titles like Quidditch Through the Ages.”

“Hey,” James protested, feigning offense. “That’s a classic. And for the record, I like books with pictures.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Regulus said smoothly, sliding the book back into its place. “Just that fine literature is wasted on you.”

James grinned, trailing after him as they wandered deeper into the shop. “You’re mean, Reg, truly.” He paused, reaching to push a stray book back in place, “You should read something fun for once, you know.”

Regulus snorted softly, pausing to tilt his head at a collection of magical history texts. “What I read is fun, James. Just not to you, since you clearly struggle to comprehend it.” 

James gasped, “My, you’re all bite today I see.” He bumped Regulus’ shoulder, “Why don’t you read a mystery or something?”

Regulus arched an eyebrow, sliding a thick tome back onto the shelf. “A mystery?”

“Yeah, something, you know…interesting,” James said, shrugging.

Regulus hummed, turning to face him fully now. “Mystery books are for amateurs. Besides, I prefer something that challenges me.” He paused, almost as if he were measuring James up before speaking again. “You’d probably get bored after a few chapters.”

James felt his stomach flip at Regulus’s sharp tone, a smug challenge threaded through his words. He really liked it when Regulus was like this, snarky, cool, and cutting. He shouldn’t be turned on by someone insulting him. But it wasn’t just someone was it? 

No. It was Regulus. Infuriatingly intelligent and unbelievably attractive, and the way he was looking at James now, like he knew he had James bloody falling at his knees for him. 

“Me?” James exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest. “I can handle anything. Maybe you’re the one who’d get bored. You know, with all that ‘deep thinking’ you’re so fond of.”

Regulus smirked. “If I wanted to read something shallow, Potter, I’d read one of your Quidditch magazines.”

James burst out laughing, pushing off from the shelf. “Ouch, that was a low blow.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” Regulus said, a sly grin playing on his lips. “Don’t think you can keep up.”

James grinned wider. “You’re on, Black. But I’ll warn you now, I don’t lose. Ever.”

Regulus gave a small, almost imperceptible smile as he reached for another book. “I seem to recall quite a few times you lost to me, Potter.” 

“Only because I let you win.”

Regulus raised a brow, his eyes narrowing as his lips curved into a challenging smirk. “Hm, if that’s what you have to tell yourself, fine. But we both know the truth.” His gaze flicked over James slowly, deliberately, the intensity of it making James’s chest tighten.

James held his ground, refusing to let Regulus fluster him this time. They both knew how this game went Regulus loved taking the upper hand when he saw an opening, but James wasn’t about to let him win that easily. 

James leaned against the edge of the bookshelf, his smile sharp and teasing as he tilted his head. His voice dropped, low and playful, as he said, “You know, Reg, if you’re going to stare at me like that, the least you could do is make it worth my while. Looking up at me with those big, pretty eyes from your knees.”

Regulus blinked, his smirk faltering for the briefest moment before he rolled his eyes, pretending to be unimpressed. “You’re ridiculous, James,” he said smoothly, turning his attention back to the shelf. 

But as he scanned the spines, his face ducked slightly, and James caught the faintest hint of pink blooming on his cheeks.

James couldn’t help but smirk, watching as Regulus busied himself with the books, his usual cool demeanor slipping ever so slightly.

He didn’t say anything more, just stuffed his hands into his pockets and let his gaze linger, the image of Regulus graceful, deliberate, and just a little flustered burning itself into his mind.

For the next ten minutes, Regulus led the way, weaving through the aisles with quiet efficiency. Occasionally, he’d pause to tilt his head and pluck a book from the shelf, flipping through the pages with an expression James couldn’t quite read. Each time, James waited, expecting Regulus to set the book aside to take with him, but every single time, he slid it neatly back into place before moving on.

Eventually, James couldn’t take it anymore.

“Reg,” he said, stepping up beside him as Regulus ran his fingers along the leather-bound spines of a particularly beautiful collection of potion tomes.

“Hm?” Regulus didn’t look up.

“You’ve been looking at books for ages, but you haven’t kept a single one.”

Regulus blinked, tilting his head as though James had said something absurd. “I thought we were just looking?”

James stared at him, mouth slightly open. Then he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Reggie, do you think I’m gonna bring you to a bookshop and let you leave empty-handed? Absolutely not.”

Regulus frowned slightly, like he wasn’t sure how to respond. “I don’t—”

“Nope,” James cut him off, grabbing his wrist and tugging him back toward the front of the shop. “We’re starting over. This time, you’re going to pick out whatever you want.”

“James—”

“No arguing,” James said firmly, flashing him a cheeky grin. “Or I’ll start picking books for you, and I have terrible taste as you so nicely informed me.”

Regulus sighed, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks as James pulled him back to the first shelf they’d visited.

“Now,” James said, gesturing grandly, “pick. Anything you want. No limits.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but complied, reaching for the first book he’d looked at earlier. As he did, James swooped in, plucking it from his hands.

“I can carry my own books, you know,” Regulus said, arching a brow.

“Not today, you can’t,” James shot back. “Wouldn’t want you straining those pretty, delicate hands, would we?”

Regulus muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Ridiculous Gryffindor,” but the faint smile playing on his lips gave him away.

The process repeated itself as they moved through the shop. Regulus would reach for a book, and James would immediately take it from him, ignoring the annoyed glances Regulus threw his way.

At one point, Regulus paused, eyeing a book on the top shelf. He stood on his toes, stretching to reach it, but it was just out of his grasp.

James smirked, stepping up behind him. “Need a hand, love?”

“I’m fine,” Regulus said stiffly, though his fingers were still a good inch away from the book.

“Sure you are.” James reached over him, plucking the book effortlessly from the shelf. He held it just out of Regulus’s reach for a moment, grinning when Regulus shot him an unimpressed glare.

“Very mature,” Regulus said dryly, snatching the book from James’s hand.

“You love it,” James teased, leaning in just enough to brush their shoulders together.

Regulus didn’t answer, but James caught the faintest smile he tried to hide. 

By the time they reached the counter, James was holding a stack of five books, each carefully chosen by Regulus. Unbeknownst to Regulus though, James had bought three other books he’d looked at earlier. He had grabbed them and brought them up to pay when Regulus was focused on flipping through another title. 

As the shopkeeper began ringing them up, Regulus turned to James, his expression unreadable.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said quietly.

James shrugged, his grin softening. “I want to. You deserve the world, Reggie. Figured each book was a new one to explore.” 

Regulus looked away, but not before James caught the smallest, most genuine smile he’d ever seen grace his face. It was enough to make every second of teasing and armfuls of books worth it.

The soft jingle of the bell marked their exit from the bookshop, James holding the door open once again with a dramatic flourish. “Your chariot awaits.” he said with a teasing smile.

Regulus snorted but didn’t bother hiding the faint curve of his lips as he stepped past him.

James followed close behind, quickly remounting his broom and waiting for Regulus to do the same. Once they were both airborne, Regulus cast him a sidelong glance. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going next, or is this part of the mystery?”

“Part of the mystery,” James said with a wink. “But trust me, you’ll like it.”

Regulus didn’t press him, and they flew side by side in comfortable silence for a while before James broke it.

“So,” he began, tilting his broom slightly to look at him, “which book are you going to read first?”

Regulus hummed thoughtfully, his hand tightening slightly on his broom handle as he considered. “Probably Practical Theories on Arithmancy. I’ve been meaning to dive deeper into non-linear spell matrices.”

James blinked, the words mostly flying over his head, but he grinned nonetheless. “Non-linear spell matrices, huh? Sounds… complicated.”

“It’s fascinating,” Regulus said, his eyes lighting up as he launched into an explanation. “It’s essentially about the way spells interact with each other in complex layers, particularly in charms and wards. Most people assume magic works in straight lines, but it’s more like… overlapping threads in a tapestry.”

As Regulus spoke, his voice grew more animated, and James couldn’t help but watch him. The way his eyes glimmered, the soft curve of his lips as he explained something clearly important to him. It was mesmerizing.

James asked questions, not because he understood much of what Regulus was saying, but because he wanted to keep hearing his voice. “So, is that why some wards are harder to break? Because of the… tapestry thing?”

Regulus nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Exactly. The more intricate the weave, the harder it is to unravel. It’s like solving a puzzle, but with infinite possibilities.”

James let out a low whistle, impressed more by Regulus than the explanation. “You’re bloody brilliant, you know that?”

Regulus glanced at him, startled by the sincerity in James’s voice. His cheeks flushed faintly, and he quickly looked away, focusing on the horizon.

The sunlight caught Regulus’s face just then, turning his pale skin golden and making his eyes gleam like polished silver. James’s broom wobbled slightly as his chest constricted, nearly sending him into a nosedive. How could anyone be so beautiful?

Thankfully, they reached their destination before James could embarrass himself further.

Regulus landed gracefully, his boots crunching softly against the cobblestones in front of another shop. He raised a brow, his expression softening with fondness as he took in the familiar sign above the door.

“An apothecary?” he said, turning to James with a hint of a smile.

“I thought you’d like it,” James said, scratching the back of his neck. “I figured you might need some more new ingredients.”

Regulus didn’t answer, but the way his smile grew was enough to make James feel like he’d won the Quidditch Cup.

Inside, Regulus moved through the aisles with a quiet sort of reverence, his fingers grazing labels and lids as he inspected the stock.

James followed a step behind, watching him intently.

“What are you looking for?” James asked after a while, his voice low as though not to disturb the atmosphere.

“There’s a potion I’ve been meaning to try,” Regulus said, his tone distracted as he examined a jar of dried asphodel root. “It’s complex, but the theory behind it is fascinating. It’s supposed to amplify magical focus without disrupting natural equilibrium.”

James’s brow furrowed. “Natural equilibrium?”

Regulus glanced at him, the smallest smirk on his lips. “It means it won’t fry your brain like most focus potions do.”

“Ah,” James said with a chuckle. “Good to know. So, what do you need for it?”

Regulus began listing off ingredients, gesturing to various jars and bottles as he spoke. James nodded along, even if he didn’t entirely understand, asking questions here and there to keep him talking.

James decided he wanted to listen to Regulus’s voice for the rest of all eternity. 

“What’s that one for?” James asked as Regulus inspected a small vial of shimmering powder.

“Stabilization,” Regulus replied, holding it up to the light. “Without it, the potion would collapse halfway through brewing.”

“And this one?” James asked, pointing to a bundle of dried purple flowers.

“Calming properties,” Regulus said. “It balances out the amplifying effect of the other ingredients.”

As Regulus explained, James couldn’t take his eyes off him. The way his hands moved with such precision, his delicate fingers so careful with every bottle and bag, was mesmerizing. His voice was soft but sure, and James found himself leaning in closer just to catch every word.

At one point, Regulus glanced up and caught James staring. His breath hitched, as he realized James’s attention hadn’t wavered once. Those hazel eyes were fixed on him, intense as though he were the only thing in the room.

For a moment, Regulus faltered, his chest tightening with a feeling he couldn’t quite name. But he quickly recovered, continuing his explanation as though nothing had happened.

James didn’t let up, though. He nodded, asked another question, and made a quiet comment about how clever Regulus was, his voice dripping with admiration. Taking everything Regulus picked up out of his hands to hold for him. 

“Are you always this stubborn?” Regulus asked dryly as James balanced the lot in his arms.

“Only when it comes to you,” James said with a wink, earning an exasperated sigh from Regulus, though the twitch in his lip betrayed him.

James’s grin only widened as he trailed behind him, hands loaded with items, but his eyes were on Regulus more than the apothecary.

James nudged his shoulder playfully. “Alright, genius, tell me more. What makes it so complex?”

Regulus paused, his hand hovering over a small vial of silvery powder. “The balance,” he explained, his voice taking on a softer, almost lecturing tone. “You need to amplify the mind’s clarity without overstimulating it. Most focus potions rely on aggressive magical boosts, but this one uses subtler, complementary ingredients to maintain balance.”

James blinked, only half following, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “Your brilliance makes me feel daft in comparison.”

Regulus glanced at him briefly, his expression guarded, though the corner of his mouth curled upward. He quickly turned back to the shelf, picking up the vial and inspecting it closely.

“So, when are you going to start brewing it?” James asked, leaning casually against the shelf.

“When I have everything I need,” Regulus replied, setting the vial down and moving to the next shelf. “And when I’ve double-checked the process in my notes. Precision is key.”

James nodded, trailing after him. “Do any of the books you just picked out have anything about it?”

“A couple,” Regulus admitted. “One of them has a section on stabilization techniques that might be useful.”

James tilted his head. “Like… keeping the potion from exploding?”

Regulus arched a brow at him. “Not quite. It ensures the ingredients blend seamlessly without disrupting the potion’s magical structure.”

“Right,” James said, pretending to understand. He grinned. “Exploding sounded cooler, though.”

Regulus huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head as he reached for another jar on a higher shelf. James stepped in quickly, brushing past him to grab it first.

“Let me,” he said, flashing Regulus a smile as he handed him the jar.

Regulus took it, his fingers brushing James’s briefly. “Chivalry suits you,” he said dryly, though his tone was lighter than usual.

“Doesn’t it just?”

Regulus crouched in front of a lower shelf, inspecting a row of small, dark bottles. James stood behind him, arms crossed but entirely focused on the curve of Regulus’s back as he worked.

Needing a distraction James picked up a small jar filled with shimmering, amber-colored liquid and gave it a small shake, watching the contents swirl.

“Don’t shake that.” Regulus said sharply, glancing at him with a warning look.

“Why not?” James asked, grinning as he tilted the jar slightly, just to test Regulus’s reaction.

Regulus let out a soft sigh, plucking the jar from James’s hand. He held it up between them, his fingers brushing against James’s for a moment. “Because if you shake it too much, it releases some of the essence into the jar itself, making it less potent. And considering how rare and expensive this is, I’d rather not have to explain to the shopkeeper why we’re buying a ruined ingredient.”

James tilted his head, pretending to focus on the jar, but his attention was entirely on Regulus. The way he held the jar delicately, his pale fingers brushing the glass, and how his silver eyes sparkled with annoyance and focus. It was captivating. And Merlin, he was so close, the faint scent of him lingering in the air between them, making James’s heart race.

When Regulus turned to look at him, his brow furrowed as if expecting some kind of response, James couldn’t stop himself. He leaned forward, stealing the smallest, softest kiss.

Regulus blinked, clearly taken off guard. “Were you listening at all?” he asked, raising a perfectly arched brow.

“Mm, of course I was, baby,” James replied smoothly, his voice low and teasing.

Regulus’s grip on the jar tightened for a brief second, his throat working as he swallowed. The nickname, one he usually only heard when they were alone, caught him off guard, but he quickly composed himself, glancing away as if James hadn’t just kissed him.

Regulus reached for another jar, this one filled with shimmering green powder, and inspected it closely. 

James leaned casually against the nearest shelf. “You know, for someone who claims I’m insufferable, you’re awfully patient with me.”

Regulus smirked faintly, still focused on the jar. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m patient because I know you’d break half the store without supervision.”

James laughed, the sound warm and soft. “Fair point. But admit it, you’d miss me if I didn’t come along.”

Regulus replaced the jar grabbing a new one and turned to face James, his expression unreadable. “Maybe,” he said quietly, his voice just above a whisper. 

James smiled, leaning closer. “What’s it called?” He nodded towards the jar is Regulus’s hand. 

“Essence of lavender,” Regulus said, holding it out for him to smell.

James took a deep breath, the floral scent washing over him. “Not bad,” he said. “Not as good as you, though.”

Regulus’s cheeks turned pink, but he ignored the comment, setting the bottle aside.

James smirked, picking up a small vial filled with a murky green liquid. He held it up between his fingers and raised an eyebrow at Regulus. “Alright, potion master, what’s this one? No peeking at the label.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but leaned in slightly, his expression thoughtful as he studied the vial. “It’s too opaque for gillywater… likely wormwood essence. Strong base for sleeping draughts.”

James tilted the vial to glance at the label and grinned. “Wormwood essence. Nailed it. Alright, next one.”

He grabbed a small jar filled with bright orange powder, holding it closer to Regulus with a mischievous look. “Bet you don’t know this one.”

Regulus took the jar, unscrewed the lid, and waved it gently under his nose, his lips curling into a knowing smile. “Ashwinder eggs, ground fine. Used in love potions and enhancing fire spells.”

“Alright, now you’re just showing off,” James teased, grabbing a small satchel of dried leaves and holding it behind his back. “Now, for the ultimate test—you don’t get to see it this time. Just smell.”

Regulus sighed but leaned forward as James held the satchel under his nose. He inhaled deeply, his brow furrowing before his expression cleared. “Dried dittany leaves. Mostly used for healing.”

James groaned in defeat, letting his arm fall. “You’re impossible. How do you know everything?”

Regulus shrugged, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I read. You should try it sometime.”

“Alright, fine. I concede. You win. Again.”

Regulus smirked triumphantly, but there was a soft glint in his eyes as he watched James start gathering the ingredients.

By the time Regulus had everything he needed, James was carrying the stack of bottles and jars, refusing to let Regulus hold even one.

As they made their way to the counter, James couldn’t help but think that he’d happily spend every day like this. Watching Regulus, learning about him, and falling even harder than he already had.

By the time they left the apothecary, the sun had climbed higher, casting a golden light over the streets. James carried all of Regulus’s purchases, despite his mock protests, and led the way toward a quiet clearing near the outskirts of the village where they had left their brooms.

Once they took off, the wind whipped past them, tugging at their hair and clothes. Regulus soared gracefully alongside James, his posture relaxed as he glanced over, his hair tousled by the breeze.

“You look amazing like that,” James called out, his voice carrying over the wind.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching. “Like what?”

“With your hair all windswept,” James said, grinning. “You look—”

“Ridiculous?” Regulus suggested, cutting him off.

“—like a dream,” James finished without missing a beat, his grin widening.

Regulus glanced at him, his brows raising in disbelief. “Shove off, Potter,” he said, though there was no real heat behind his words.

James grinned, unfazed. “It’s true, Reggie. You’re beautiful.”

Regulus didn’t respond immediately, biting back the small smile tugging at his lips. Instead, after a moment, he narrowed his eyes, a spark of heat lighting them.

Regulus dragged his gaze slowly down James’s body, he let his lips curl into a smirk before licking them deliberately.

“Not looking too bad yourself, Jamie,” he purred, his eyes flicked back up to meet James’s, dark and full of intent. “But I much prefer how you look when your jaw’s slack and you’re staring down at me with those half-lidded eyes I love so much.”

James froze, the words hitting him like a Bludger to the chest. Fire shot down his spine, and he nearly lost grip of his broom for half a second.

Regulus smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

But James wasn’t having it. He recovered quickly, a chuckle rumbling low in his throat as he leaned forward on his broom. His gaze locked on Regulus, dark and smoldering.

“Easy there, love,” James murmured, his voice smooth. “You wouldn’t want me to put you on your knees, where you belong before the days up, would you?”

Regulus’s smirk deepened, but his cheeks flushed a faint pink. “Belong, huh?” he drawled, his tone dripping with feigned indifference.

James’s grin widened, his confidence flaring. He ran his tongue across his teeth, letting the pause stretch just long enough to make Regulus’s heartbeat quicken.

“That’s right,” he said, his voice softer but no less commanding. “Looking up at me like I’m the only thing that matters—because I am, aren’t I?”

For a moment, Regulus faltered. He hated the way his stomach fluttered at James’s words, but he refused to let James win so easily. With an arched brow and a smirk that screamed defiance, he shot back, “I suppose I’ll let you think that… for now.”

James barked a laugh, his warm, golden eyes alight with amusement and something deeper. “Reggie,” he said, his tone laced with a teasing affection, “Trust me, I don't think. I know.” 

Regulus gave him one last playful look before darting ahead on his broom, his smirk still firmly in place. James was quick to follow, the chase igniting the playful tension between them as they wove through the open sky, their laughter mingling with the wind.

Regulus’s laughter echoed in the air as he glanced back over his shoulder, catching the determined glint in James’s eyes. “Come on, Potter, is that the best you’ve got?” he taunted, his voice carried by the wind.

James grinned, narrowing his eyes. “You’re going to regret saying that!” He leaned forward, urging his broom faster as he closed the gap between them.

The thrill of the chase coursed through both of them, the tension melting into exhilaration. For a few moments, the world was nothing but the vast sky, the rush of air against their faces, and the challenge between them.

James finally drew level with Regulus, nudging his broom playfully against his. Regulus responded by veering just enough to make James adjust, a pleased smile spreading across his lips.

“Alright, alright,” James called, laughing as he raised a hand in mock surrender. “You win this round, Reggie.”

Regulus slowed his pace, his cheeks flushed from the adrenaline. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

James shook his head, his gaze softening as he looked at Regulus. “Only because I let you, be glad i’m such a caring date.” He teased.

Regulus snorted but didn’t argue, allowing the playful silence to settle between them as they began their descent. The ground below opening into a serene field dotted with trees and bordered by a small lake.

Regulus took in the empty space, his lips twitching upward. “Planning to kill me and hide the body, are you?”

James rolled his eyes as he landed beside him. “You’ve discovered my master plan. Damn.”

Regulus smirked but didn’t reply as they dismounted. He paused, glancing around again, as James leaned his broom against a nearby tree.

“Alright, what’s next?” Regulus asked, folding his arms, though his tone was more curious than skeptical.

James stepped closer, casually taking Regulus’s broom from his hands and setting it down beside his own. Regulus raised a brow, tilting his head slightly.

“James?”

But before Regulus could question him further, James closed the gap between them, his hands brushing Regulus’s arms as he leaned in and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed or demanding, just soft, tender, and unhurried. Regulus stilled at first, but then he melted into it, his fingers curling into the front of James’s shirt. When James finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against Regulus’s and whispered, “You look much too good right now, Reg.”

Regulus smirked, though his voice was softer than usual. “I know, Potter.”

James chuckled, his hands brushing against Regulus’s before stepping back. “Back to Potter, are we?”

“For now,” Regulus said with a sly look.

James grinned, pulling the shrunken picnic basket and blanket from his pocket. With a flick of his wand, they expanded to full size, the blanket spreading itself out on the soft grass. He also enlarged the books he’d shrunk earlier, stacking them neatly at the edge of the blanket. 

Regulus stared, uncharacteristically speechless.

“Well?” James said, plopping down on the blanket and gesturing for Regulus to join him. “Coming?”

Regulus slowly lowered himself to sit beside James, his gaze sweeping over the spread. As James began unpacking, laying out sandwiches, fruit, and sweets.

Regulus murmured, “You packed all my favorites.”

James glanced up, his expression softening. “I pay attention, you know.”

Regulus swallowed hard, hit by a rush of emotion. A few weeks ago, he’d been teetering on the edge, broken and lost. Now he was here, with James Potter, who looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

He couldn’t find the words, so he didn’t try. Instead, he reached out, grabbing James’s jaw and pulling him into a kiss that was anything but soft. It was fierce, needy, and full of everything he couldn’t say.

James dropped the biscuit he’d been holding, his hands flying to Regulus’s waist as he groaned into the kiss, surrendering completely.

When they finally pulled apart, James’s gaze was filled with unguarded adoration. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re testing my restraint, Reggie.”

Regulus’s chest tightened, warmth spreading through him in a way that felt both terrifying and good. He smirked faintly, trying to hide how undone he felt. “You talk too much.”

James laughed, brushing a strand of hair from Regulus’s face. “Good thing you don’t seem to mind.”

Regulus huffed, though his lips curved upward as he settled beside James, letting the warmth of the moment wash over him. For now, everything else could wait.

James stole another glance at Regulus, who was poking at a strawberry on his plate. He looked relaxed, but James could see the faint furrow in his brow, the tension in his shoulders that never quite went away.

“You’re quiet,” James said softly, setting his plate aside and leaning back on one hand.

Regulus glanced at him, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Am I not allowed to enjoy a moment of silence?”

James shook his head. “Not when you’re in your head like this. What’s up?”

Regulus hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the lake. “It’s nothing.”

James frowned, his brow furrowing. “Reg, it’s me. Don’t give me that.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he studied him. “I’ve seen you when it’s nothing. This isn’t it.”

Regulus’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, James thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, with a quiet sigh, Regulus set his plate down and looked at his hands.

“It’s just… this,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the picnic spread, the field, the lake. “It feels… strange. Being here. With you. Happy.” His voice dropped at the last word, almost like he was afraid to say it aloud.

James felt a pang in his chest. “Strange how?”

Regulus shrugged, still not meeting his gaze. “Like I don’t deserve it. Like it could all disappear if I’m not careful.”

James’s heart ached. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Regulus’s hand. “It’s not going anywhere,” he said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere. You deserve this, Reg. All of it.”

Regulus finally looked at him, his gray eyes guarded but searching. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you,” James said simply. “I’ve spent the last four weeks watching you rebuild yourself from the ground up. You’ve been through hell, Reg, and you’re still here. That’s not nothing.”

Regulus swallowed hard, his gaze dropping again. James shifted closer, tilting his head to catch his eye.

“And because I care about you,” James added, his voice softer. “A lot. I just want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

Regulus’s breath hitched, and he blinked rapidly, clearly trying to compose himself. James gave him space, waiting until he was ready.

Finally, Regulus managed a faint smirk, though his voice was rough around the edges. “You’re too much, you know that?”

James grinned, relief washing over him. “That’s what they tell me.”

Regulus huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

James took the opportunity to lighten the mood. “So,” he said, leaning back on his hands again, “are you finally going to tell me what kind of music you like?”

Regulus raised a brow at him. “Why do you care so much about my taste in music?”

“Because it’s you,” James said with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I want to know everything about you.”

Regulus stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he sighed, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. But if you make fun of me, I’m hexing you.”

James held up his hands in mock surrender. “I solemnly swear I will only tease you a little bit.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but indulged him, rattling off a few bands and composers. James listened intently, nodding along and asking questions.

“Wait,” James said suddenly, his eyes lighting up. “You like The Cauldron Choir? Sirius hates them!”

Regulus chuckled softly. “I know. That’s half the reason I started listening to them.”

James laughed, the sound bright and warm, and Regulus couldn’t help but smile, the tension in his chest easing just a little.

James reached for another powdered-sugar-dusted pastry, took a bite, and groaned in satisfaction. “You’re missing out if you don’t eat one,” he teased, holding one out to Regulus.

Regulus hesitated before leaning forward to take a small bite. The sugary sweetness melted on his tongue, and he couldn’t help but nod slightly. “It’s good,” he admitted, albeit reluctantly.

James tilted his head, his eyes softening as they caught on the faint dusting of powdered sugar clinging to Regulus’s bottom lip. Without thinking, he leaned in, his hand lightly brushing Regulus’s chin. Instead of using his thumb to swipe the sugar away, he pressed his lips to Regulus’s in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasn’t just a peck gentle, but undeniably more.

When James pulled back, a playful smile curved his lips. “You had sugar on your lip,” he murmured, his voice low.

Regulus blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He rolled his eyes after a moment, though the faint flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “Thoughtful of you to get it off.”

“Isn’t it?” James teased, leaning back with a grin.

Regulus gave him a sidelong glance, his tone laced with sarcasm. “You’re certainly something, Potter. I’ll give you that much.”

James raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little closer. “Something good, I hope.”

Everything good, Regulus thought but didn’t say. Instead he huffed softly, turning his attention to the snacks as if James wasn’t trying to inch into his personal space.

“Something loud. Something relentless. Like a stray dog that refuses to leave.”

James grinned, unabashed, and popped a grape into his mouth. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he said, nudging Regulus’s thigh lightly with his own. The touch lingered, casual but deliberate, as James moved in, “Come on, Reg. You have to admit, I’m at least entertaining.”

Regulus glanced at him sideways, his expression one of practiced indifference, though the faint flush on his cheeks hadn’t disappeared. “If by entertaining, you mean relentless and mildly annoying, then yes, you’re quite good at it.”

James laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Mildly annoying? You’re going soft on me.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t move away, instead reaching for another pastry. “Someone has to keep your ego in check.”

“Ah, but you like my ego,” James teased, his grin widening. “It’s part of my charm.”

Regulus snorted softly, brushing crumbs from his fingers. “You’re lucky you’re decent at Quidditch. Otherwise, there’d be no good qualities at all.”

James feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “Decent? I’ll have you know I’m the best Seeker Gryffindor’s ever seen.”

Regulus smirked, finally meeting his gaze. “If you say so, Potter. Though I seem to recall a match last year where you missed the Snitch entirely because you were too busy showboating.”

James leaned back, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Showboating? Or giving the crowd what they came to see? Can’t blame me for being the star of the match.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the faintest twitch of amusement. “Of course not,” he replied smoothly, picking up a grape and holding it between his fingers as if inspecting it. “Though I suppose it’s… amusing. Watching you fly.”

James caught the slight hesitation, his grin softening. “Amusing, huh?” His voice was lower now, and his knee pressed a bit more firmly against Regulus’s. “I think you just like the way I look on a broom.” 

Regulus let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You think very highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” James said, his tone teasing as he leaned in just a touch more. “But it’s hard not to when you look at me like that.”

Regulus met his gaze, narrowing his eyes slightly as James flashed his signature grin. “With mild irritation?”

“Like you think I’m irresistible,” James replied, waggling his brows dramatically.

Regulus gave James a light shove, enough to create some space but not enough to sever their playful connection. “Keep dreaming.”

James chuckled, leaning back but still keeping his knee against Regulus’s. “Quidditch dreams, Reg. That’s all I have, you know. Well, that and winning you over someday. Though I’m pretty sure I’ve already done that.”

Regulus let out a soft scoff, but his lips twitched. Not offering a response, or rather he just didn’t have one. 

James shifted then, reaching for a few blades of grass checking they were roughly the same length before he started weaving them together with quiet determination. His brows furrowed slightly as he worked, his tongue poking out in concentration. Regulus watched out of the corner of his eye, trying not to look too interested.

“What are you doing?”

James didn’t look up, his fingers continuing to twist and loop the grass. “You’ll see,” he said simply, his tone light but focused.

Regulus huffed softly, leaning back against the tree. “You’re being cryptic, Potter. That’s never a good sign.”

James chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

Silence settled between them for a moment, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves above and the distant sound of a few birds passing by. James’s fingers worked deftly, his movements smooth and practiced as if this wasn’t the first time he’d attempted something like this. He plucked a small white flower from the grass nearby, carefully tucking it into the braid he was creating.

Regulus tilted his head slightly, his curiosity deepening. “You’re surprisingly skilled at… whatever this is. Should I be concerned?”

James smirked, glancing up briefly. “You should be flattered. I don’t do this for just anyone.” He added another flower to the braid, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement.

Regulus rolled his eyes, his voice dry. “Lucky me.”

James ignored the sarcasm, his tone softening as he asked, “Did you ever make these as a kid?”

“Make what?” Regulus asked, glancing down at James’s hands.

“These.” James held up his partially woven creation for a moment before resuming his work. “Grass braids, flower crowns, silly little things like that.”

Regulus snorted lightly. “Do I look like someone who made flower crowns as a child?”

James grinned. “No, but I can picture it now. You, sitting in a perfectly pressed shirt, carefully braiding daisies into a crown, looking annoyed the whole time but secretly enjoying it.”

Regulus gave him a flat look. “You’re delusional.”

“Maybe,” James said easily, his voice warm, “but I bet you would’ve been good at it.”

Regulus looked away, “I didn’t have time for things like that.”

James glanced up at him, his hands momentarily pausing. “You should’ve.” His tone was quieter now, the teasing edge replaced by something softer.

Regulus shifted under his gaze, clearing his throat. “And what about you, Potter? Were you the king of flower crowns?”

James grinned, resuming his weaving. “Nah, not flower crowns. But I used to make these little bracelets for Mum. She loved them, even though they’d fall apart in like a day.”

The admission made Regulus’s chest tighten unexpectedly, though he quickly masked it with a scoff. “Sentimental fool.”

“Guilty as charged,” James said with a wink.

Finally, James tied off the ends of the braid with a satisfied hum, holding it up to inspect his work. He turned to Regulus, his eyes gleaming with boyish excitement. “Alright. Hold out your hand.”

Regulus raised a skeptical brow. “Why?”

“Just trust me,” James said, his grin widening.

Regulus hesitated for a moment, his gaze flicking between James and his creation. Then, with a sigh that sounded far more exasperated than he actually felt, he held out his hand.

James’s grin softened into something warmer, more genuine, as he carefully slid the bracelet over Regulus’s wrist. His fingers brushed lightly over the delicate skin there, lingering for just a second longer than necessary. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid to press too hard and break the moment.

Regulus’s eyes flicked down to the bracelet as it settled snugly around his wrist. The woven blades of grass and tiny white flowers looked almost fragile, like they might fall apart with the slightest tug.

James reached for his wand, his movements deliberate but unhurried, as though he was savoring every second. He murmured a soft spell, the tip of his wand glowing faintly as he passed it over the bracelet. A subtle shimmer spread across the delicate weave, like sunlight glinting off morning dew.

“There,” James said, his voice quieter now. “It won’t wither or fall apart. Not unless you want it to.” His fingers lingering on Regulus’s wrist for a moment longer. 

Regulus looked down at the bracelet, his fingers brushing over the delicate grass and flowers. His chest tightened, emotions swirling up unexpectedly. He swallowed thickly before glancing up at James.

“Thank you,” he said, the words coming out quieter than intended, but no less sincere.

James’s grin softened into something gentler, his thumb brushing over Regulus’s wrist briefly before he pulled back. “Anything for you, Reggie.”

The moment hung between them, charged and tender, until James broke it with a playful grin. “Right then. Fancy a game of chess? Or are you going to let me win just because you’re so smitten with me?”

Regulus scoffed, his lips curving into a smirk. “If anyone’s smitten here, it’s you, James.”

“Maybe,” James said easily, “But we’ll see who comes out victorious.”

“You’re going to regret saying that.”

James snorted, reaching into his bag to pull out the chessboard. “Big words for someone who’s about to get crushed.”

“You’re far too confident for someone who’s never beaten me,” Regulus shot back, watching as James set the board up between them. The polished pieces gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, their intricate carvings catching the light as James placed each one with exaggerated precision.

“Just setting the stage for my victory,” James quipped, leaning back on his hands once everything was in place.

“Delusional,” Regulus murmured again, but there was a soft tug at his lips.

After a few turns, the chessboard lay between them, the game steadily building. Regulus rested his chin on one hand, his other absently fiddling with the bracelet James had made for him. His fingers traced the soft blades of enchanted grass and the small white flowers nestled among them.

James’s gaze flickered to Regulus’s hand, a faint warmth blooming in his chest at the sight. He leaned forward slightly, his brow furrowing as he studied the board. “Don’t think I don’t notice you stalling, Reg,” he said, his tone teasing.

Regulus arched a brow without looking up. “It’s called thinking. Something you clearly aren’t doing.”

James grinned, shaking his head. “We’ll see who’s really thinking when you’re down a knight.”

James, leaning back on one arm, watched him. His chest tightened, that familiar pull tugging at him again. Drawing him closer to Regulus like they were attached by a tether. 

“You’re going to lose,” Regulus said, his voice cool but edged with amusement as he moved his bishop.

James tapped his chin theatrically as he considered the board. “Big words, Black. Don’t count me out just yet.”

Regulus arched a brow. “You’re too reckless to win. It’s your fatal flaw, Potter.”

“Reckless?” James scoffed, moving a knight into position. “I prefer ‘bold.’”

“Bold gets you killed in chess,” Regulus countered, lips twitching into a faint smirk.

James leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and met Regulus’s gaze. “Or it wins me the game.”

Regulus didn’t falter under his intense stare, though his fingers tightened slightly around the bracelet. James’s eyes flicked to the movement, and for a moment, his heart did something ridiculous, like stumble over itself.

“Your move, Jamie,” Regulus reminded him, his voice quieter now but no less confident.

James dragged his gaze back to the board, shaking his head with a laugh. “Merlin, you’re distracting.”

Regulus tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eye. “Is that your excuse when I inevitably beat you?”

“Oh, you wish.” James said, his grin widening.

Regulus played with quiet precision, his every move calculated. James, on the other hand, relied on audacity and instinct, occasionally shooting teasing comments across the board to try to throw Regulus off his game.

“You’re scowling,” James said at one point, his tone light. “Doesn’t suit you, you know. You’re much prettier when you’re smirking at me.”

“Focus on the board, Potter.”

“Trust me, I am plenty focused,” James said, making his next move with exaggerated confidence.

Regulus narrowed his eyes, studying the board. He was close to cornering James’s king, and James knew it. But just when Regulus thought he had the upper hand, James moved his rook with a triumphant flourish.

“Checkmate,” James announced, leaning back with a self-satisfied grin.

Regulus blinked, his eyes darting over the board in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all,” James said, crossing his arms behind his head. “What can I say? Bold wins the day.”

Regulus shook his head, though the faintest smile tugged at his lips. “You’re unbearable.”

“Admit it,” James said, leaning forward slightly. “You love it.”

Regulus snorted, his dry humor returning. “Love is a strong word, Potter.”

“Then at least admit you’re impressed,” James pressed, his grin impossible to ignore.

Regulus carefully reset the board, his movements deliberate and precise. “I’m impressed you managed to stumble your way into a victory.”

James chuckled, watching him closely. “I’ll take it. I mean, you’re already wearing my bracelet. It’s only fair I win the first game, don’t you think?”

Regulus glanced at the bracelet, his fingers brushing over it again, and for a moment, his expression softened. “I suppose I’ll allow it. This time.”

James felt that tug in his chest again, stronger now. He reached out, briefly brushing his fingers against Regulus’s wrist before pulling back. “Next round’s yours, then.”

Regulus looked up, their gazes locking. “You sound awfully confident for someone who barely escaped defeat.”

James winked, resetting his pawns with a flourish. “What can I say? I’m a Gryffindor. We thrive on confidence.”

Regulus just smirked, settling in for the next round. “Let’s see how far that gets you this time.” He flicked his wand getting the board back in order. 

“It’s gotten me pretty far as of now, hasn’t it?” James shot back, his grin widening.

Regulus rolled his eyes, adjusting one of his bishops. “Dumb luck and confidence don’t mix well with chess, Potter. It’s a strategy game.” Regulus said, his tone as sharp as his moves. He directed a knight to slide across the board, the piece landing with a decisive click. “Something I doubt you’ve mastered, considering your Gryffindorish tendencies.”

James scoffed, moving a pawn forward with exaggerated confidence. “I’ll have you know I’m a fantastic strategist. Ever heard of Quidditch?”

Regulus arched an eyebrow, finally glancing up at him. “Flying around trying to catch a shiny ball isn’t strategy—it’s blind luck. And arrogance.”

James grinned, leaning forward as he studied the board. “Arrogance? That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Hmm.” Regulus’s smirk deepened as he moved his queen, setting up a subtle trap James didn’t notice. “At least I have the skill to back it up.”

James pretended to scrutinize the board while sneaking a glance at Regulus instead. “You know, this whole ‘intimidating chess prodigy’ act is just an excuse to stare at me longer.”

Regulus didn’t even blink, capturing James’s bishop in one smooth motion. “And yet, you’re the one losing.”

James groaned, sitting back dramatically. “You don’t let up, do you?”

Regulus shrugged, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Not when I’m winning.”

James’ eyes flicked between the board and Regulus, who seemed more focused than ever, his fingers drumming lightly on the edge of the board as he considered his next move.

He couldn’t help but notice the way Regulus shifted, propping himself up on one elbow, his lean frame stretching out as if he were perfectly at ease. James’s gaze flicked downward for a fraction of a second the hem of Regulus’s shirt had ridden up ever so slightly, revealing a sliver of pale, smooth skin.

James swallowed hard, his brain swirling for a moment. He quickly looked back at the board, but his concentration was shot. His next move was clumsy, and he knew it the second the piece slid into place. 

Regulus tilted his head, his eyes sharp as they darted from the board to James. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “You’re distracted.”

James cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. “Am not.”

Regulus’s smirk deepened, and he shifted again, deliberately letting his shirt ride up just a little more. “Focus, James. Wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself.”

James’s eyes snapped to him, and the look Regulus saw there made his breath catch for a moment. It was warm, intent, and utterly captivated. “I can’t help it,” James said, his voice quieter now. “You’re mesmerizing, Reg.”

Regulus blinked, thrown off guard for just a moment. But he recovered quickly, his smirk returning. “That’s not going to stop me from winning.”

James chuckled, leaning back. “At least let me go down with some dignity.”

“You lost your dignity the second you sat down.”

A few moves later, it was over. Regulus leaned back with a satisfied expression, gesturing to the board. “Checkmate.”

James stared at the board for a moment, then sighed dramatically. “You know, I let you win.”

“Did you?” Regulus drawled, his smirk firmly in place. “I thought your attention was just divided.”

“Cruel,” James said, shaking his head but smiling all the same.

“Honest,” Regulus corrected.

James laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’m a gracious loser. Go ahead and gloat.”

Regulus tapped his fingers lightly against the bracelet on his wrist, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful. “Winning’s enough. For now.”

Regulus glanced up at him, his silver eyes catching James’s warm hazel ones, and James couldn’t stop himself from grinning.

Regulus’s heart stuttered in his chest. For a brief moment, the world seemed to slow, and all he could see was James. His easy smile, his earnestness, his warmth. And just like that, Regulus knew he was done for. Falling, quickly. Terrifying as it was, it didn’t feel so bad. Not with James.

But instead of letting the thought consume him, Regulus pulled himself together, his expression cool and composed as he began resetting the board. “Let’s see if you can do better this time.”

James leaned forward, his grin still in place. “You’re on, Reg.”

Regulus was, unsurprisingly, the winner a second time in a row, leaving James to loudly declare the game rigged.

“Clearly, this board is cursed,” he muttered, snatching a handful of crisps from the basket and stuffing them into his mouth with mock indignation.

Regulus didn’t bother hiding his smirk as he began cleaning up the chess pieces, meticulously placing each one back into its velvet-lined compartment. “Or maybe you’re just terrible at chess,” he said lightly, snapping the box shut.

James gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. “Terrible? Me? I’ll have you know, Reg, that I—”

“—lost twice in a row,” Regulus interrupted smoothly, sliding the chessboard back into the basket.

“Technicalities,” James muttered, tossing another crisp into his mouth as he lounged back on the blanket. “I still think it’s cursed.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, settling himself back onto the blanket beside James. The sun had begun its slow descent, casting golden dappled light through the trees around them. For a moment, everything felt still, peaceful.

Regulus reached for one of the books James had bought for him, its elegant leather cover gleaming softly in the sunlight. He ran his fingers over the embossed title, a rare flicker of something almost shy crossing his face.

“You don’t mind if I start this now, do you?” Regulus asked, glancing at James.

James shook his head with a grin. “Not at all. I figured you’d be itching to dive into it. Go ahead.”

Regulus opened the book, the crisp sound of pages turning filling the air. He tucked one leg beneath him and began reading, his brows furrowing in concentration as he lost himself in the words. James, meanwhile, leaned back on and simply watched him, utterly taken.

Regulus was focused, his fingers trailing down the page, occasionally pausing to read something twice. James smiled softly, enjoying the quiet contentment of the moment.

“Read it to me,” James said suddenly, his voice cutting through the stillness.

Regulus glanced up, startled. “What?”

“Read it to me,” James repeated, his tone casual but his gaze intent. “I want to hear it in your voice. Please?”

Regulus hesitated for a moment, his fingers curling around the edge of the page. But then, something in James’s expression open, curious, and full of quiet affection made him relent. He cleared his throat softly and began reading aloud.

James settled in, his eyes fixed on Regulus as he listened. Regulus’s voice was low and smooth, each word flowing effortlessly. He didn’t stumble over a single phrase, his tone steady and precise, like he’d done this a thousand times before.

James found himself entranced, not so much by the story as by Regulus himself. He admired the way he spoke, how intelligent and composed he sounded. Regulus had a way of making every word feel deliberate, like it mattered. And to James, everything about Regulus mattered.

After a few passages, though, James noticed a subtle shift. Regulus began fidgeting, his posture stiffening as though he was suddenly aware of himself. 

Without a word, James shifted, moving behind Regulus. He stretched his legs out on either side of him and gently tugged Regulus to lean back against his chest as he pressed his back against the tree for support. 

“What are you doing?” Regulus asked, glancing back at him with a faint scowl, though he didn’t resist.

“Making you more comfortable,” James replied easily, wrapping his arms loosely around Regulus’s middle. “Continue.”

Regulus gave him a look but didn’t argue. He settled against James, his back pressing against his chest, and resumed reading. James let his chin rest lightly on Regulus’s shoulder, his eyes flicking to the page but mostly staying on Regulus’s profile.

James’s hands began to move absentmindedly, running up and down Regulus’s arms. His fingers traced over the soft fabric of Regulus’s sleeves, then skimmed lightly along his forearms, savoring the feeling of his skin.

Toying gently with the bracelet, twirling it around on his wrist. Regulus’s voice faltered slightly, but he kept reading, his words steady despite the distraction.

James couldn’t help himself. He dipped his head, pressing a featherlight kiss to the curve of Regulus’s neck.

Regulus stiffened briefly, his voice hitching, but he kept going, his tone slightly less steady now. James grinned against his skin, pressing another kiss, then another, trailing them along the line of his throat.

“James,” Regulus said softly, his voice trailing off as his focus wavered.

“Keep reading,” James murmured, his lips brushing against Regulus’s skin as he spoke.

Regulus let out a quiet breath, his grip tightening slightly on the book. He complied, picking up where he left off, though his words were slower now, his tone less assured. James didn’t make it any easier, his hands continuing their lazy path down Regulus’s arms, his lips grazing along the sensitive skin just below his ear.

“You’re distracting,” Regulus finally muttered, his voice edged with exasperation but softened by something else.

James chuckled, his breath warm against Regulus’s skin. “You seem to be managing just fine.”

Regulus sighed but didn’t push him away. He kept reading, though his words occasionally faltered.

“I like this,” James murmured after a while, his voice low.

“Like what?” Regulus asked, glancing back at him.

“This,” James said, his arms tightening around him briefly. “Hearing you. Being close to you.”

Regulus’s expression softened, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through his stormy eyes. He turned his attention back to the page, forcing his voice steady as he continued to read aloud.

“To achieve a potion’s full potential, one must understand the delicate interplay between its core ingredients.”

James didn’t relent. His lips ghosted over Regulus’s shoulder, trailing light, teasing kisses up to the back of his neck. The deliberate slowness of each touch sent a shiver rippling down Regulus’s spine.

Regulus’s grip on the book tightened, his knuckles pale. “You’re a menace,” he muttered, though his voice had lost its usual sharpness, replaced with something softer—almost breathless.

“I know,” James said, his voice a low hum of satisfaction. “But you love it. Now let me hear you. I like your voice.” His hands slid down, brushing along the curve of Regulus’s arms, his lips grazing lower as his movements became more confident, more deliberate.

Regulus hesitated, his composure fraying under James’s touch. He drew in a shaky breath, his eyes darting over the words as though they might anchor him. 

“Each element serves not only its purpose but also reacts symbiotically with others—” His voice broke briefly as James pressed a open mouthed kiss to the sensitive junction where his neck met his shoulder. Regulus swallowed hard and continued, though his tone was uneven now, betraying the rapid beat of his heart. “—creating a balance that is both chemical and magical in nature.”

James hummed, low and approving, the sound vibrating against Regulus. His lips dragged lazily over the base of Regulus’s neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. “Good boy,” he murmured, his voice rich and teasing.

Regulus froze, his breath catching, before melting into the contact. His shoulders loosened, but his hands still clung to the book, as though it were his last defense.

“Merlin… James,” he began, his voice faltering as James’s fingers slid into his hair, tugging just enough to coax a soft gasp from his lips.

“Keep going,” James urged, the words a gentle command wrapped in a playful tone. His lips hovered just behind Regulus’s ear, his breath warm and enticing.

Regulus’s throat bobbed as he forced himself to focus on the page, the letters blurring slightly. “The cauldron is not merely a vessel…” His voice was quieter now, the words slipping out in fragments as James’s hands moved lower, one splaying across his chest while the other curved firmly around his waist, drawing him impossibly closer. “It—it’s a crucible of creation…”

James let his teeth graze lightly over the tender skin, just enough to make Regulus suck in a sharp breath. His hands shifted again, one thumb brushing over the sharp lines of Regulus’s collarbone while the other trailed down, his fingers curling gently into the dip of his hip.

“I can’t, James,” Regulus tried again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You can.” James murmured against his skin, his voice thick with affection, desire, and that maddening confidence that made Regulus weak. “You’re beautiful like this, Reg.”

Regulus’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his fingers trembling slightly on the edges of the book. He tilted his head back instinctively, giving James full access as his cheeks burned a deep crimson.

“Don’t stop,” James whispered, his breath brushing against Regulus’s ear like a spell, drawing him further under. “Please, baby.”

Regulus let out a shaky breath, his voice trembling as he tried to pick up where he’d left off. But every soft kiss, every teasing touch of James’s hands chipped away at his concentration, the words on the page blurring together.

James’s hands traveled lower, his fingers skimming over Regulus’s hips, deliberately slow, before venturing further. When James brushed against his cock, Regulus broke into a needy moan, his composure crumbling. 

His eyes darted nervously to the empty expanse around them. “James,” he hissed, though his voice was more a plea than a reprimand. “We’re outside.”

James shrugged, entirely unbothered. His lips curved into a smirk as his hands continued their lazy exploration. He pressed a firm kiss to the side of Regulus’s neck, his teeth dragging against the skin before running his tongue across it. 

“Read for me, Reg.”

His fingers deftly unbuttoned Regulus’s trousers, sliding beneath the fabric with a confidence that left no room for protest. When his hand wrapped around him with a torturously slow grip, Regulus’s head tipped back, a broken gasp escaping his lips.

Regulus clutched the book like a lifeline, trying desperately to focus. “True alchemy…begins not with the…uh…transmutation of base metals…” His voice wavered, the syllables stumbling over one another as James gave a deliberate, teasing tug that sent his back arching.

“Come on,” James prompted, his lips brushing over the shell of Regulus’s ear, the heat of his breath making him shiver in James’s arms. 

“…But with the refinement of the alchemist’s own soul,” Regulus forced out, his voice cracking as his hips jerked forward in response to the slow twist of James’s wrist. “To go on—” His words disintegrated into a desperate moan, his entire body trembling under the weight of James’s touch.

“To go on, what?” James teased, his voice laced with playful cruelty, though his actions were anything but. His hand slowed just enough to keep Regulus teetering on the edge, and the absence of movement made Regulus whimper softly in frustration.

Regulus’s head fell back against James’s shoulder, his breath coming in uneven, ragged bursts. The book slipped from his trembling hands, landing in his lap with a dull thud. 

James immediately stilled, a quiet hum of disapproval vibrating against Regulus’s neck.

“If you don’t keep reading, baby,” James whispered, his lips brushing against Regulus’s ear in a way that sent a fresh wave of heat down his spine, “you’ll get nothing else.” His voice was light, teasing, but the promise beneath it was unmistakable.

A desperate, wrecked sound escaped Regulus, and his trembling hands scrambled to pick the book back up, his fingers fumbling clumsily to find the lost page. He swallowed hard, forcing his voice to steady, though it trembled uncontrollably with every word.

“To go on to wield the Philosopher’s Stone is to understand the unity of all elements,” Regulus stammered, his voice faltering with every shaky breath. “…Fire and water, earth and air—fuck—” The curse slipped unbidden from his lips as his hips bucked instinctively at the resumed glide of James’s hand. “To see their reflection within oneself…”

The words came out fragmented, each syllable punctuated by the sounds of his unraveling. 

James’s lips grazed the curve of Regulus’s neck, pressing a kiss just below his ear. “That’s it,” he murmured approvingly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Never heard anything prettier, so perfect.”

Regulus trembled in James’s arms, his voice wavering and heavy with arousal. “To summon…uhh…the essence of fire without…consuming the flesh requires a delicate—” His words broke into a sharp whimper as James’s thumb swept over his tip, spreading the slickness with unhurried precision.

“Delicate…?” James prompted, his voice a low, teasing purr as he rolled the sensitive head between his fingers, savoring every reaction he drew from Regulus.

Regulus let out a broken sound, his hips twitching involuntarily, the book trembling in his hands. “A d-delicate hand and an unwavering will,” he managed to force out, though his breath came in shallow bursts. He pressed back against James, his body taut and trembling, silently pleading for more.

But James stilled, his free hand moving to hold Regulus firmly in place. His lips brushed against Regulus’s temple as he murmured, “Go on, baby. Don’t stop now.” His tone was soft, but the command was clear.

A small, frustrated groan escaped Regulus, but he relented, swallowing hard as he struggled to continue. “The Elixir of Eternal Ember…a substance sought by…ahh…battle-worn wizards and pyromancers alike—” His voice hitched, breaking into a moan as James tightened his grip, “—burns endlessly…uhhh…without fuel, providing both…light and protection.”

James hummed, the sound vibrating against Regulus’s skin as his lips trailed to the other side of his neck. He kissed and nibbled lightly, leaving a warm path of sensitivity in his wake, his movements slow and deliberate, designed to push Regulus to the brink.

James took quiet pride in how, in just a matter of minutes, he had unraveled Regulus, stripping away his composed façade until he was nothing more than a trembling, gasping mess against him.

When James twisted his wrist, the pressure precise as he swiped across the tip, Regulus let out a strangled moan. His chest heaved as his hands tightened uselessly around the book.

“Wait—uh—do…do that again,” Regulus begged, his voice barely a whisper, trembling with need as his composure crumbled. “Please.”

James grinned against Regulus’s throat, satisfaction curling through him. “I will,” he murmured, maddeningly calm, his tone like silk and steel, “but only if you read, baby.”

“Jamie—fuck. I can’t—I can’t focus,” Regulus whimpered, his entire body trembling as James slowed his motions, drawing out the tension with a deliberate cruelty that made Regulus shudder.

“Try,” James whispered, his voice steady and coaxing, his affection woven into every word. “Come on, baby. For me, yeah?”

Regulus whimpered again, helpless beneath James’s touch, his breath hitching as James’s free hand slipped beneath his shirt. Fingertips glided over his skin, teasing higher until they brushed a sensitive nipple. Regulus gasped sharply, his back arching as a broken moan tore from his throat.

“Fuck, James,” he pleaded, his voice cracking, raw and desperate, the sound wrapping around James like a tether, tugging at something deep in his chest.

James adored him like this. Yielding, shaking, so completely his. Every gasping breath, every shiver, every desperate plea felt like a gift, and James accepted it reverently. He pressed his lips to the curve of Regulus’s throat, lingering over the frantic pulse beneath the surface, savoring the way it quickened beneath his touch.

“Be good for me, baby,” James whispered, his voice tender but commanding, his lips ghosting over Regulus’s ear. “Just a little more. You can take it.”

Then, with deliberate cruelty, James pulled his hand away entirely. The sudden withdrawal earned a high-pitched whine from Regulus. The sound sent a thrill racing through James, and he bit back a smirk as he reached for his wand.

He muttered a quiet spell, conjuring a slick warmth into his palm before he coaxed Regulus’s chin, turning his head just enough for their eyes to meet.

“Pick the book back up,” James said, his voice soft, teasing. “Just a bit longer, yeah? I'll take such good care of you, baby. Promise”. 

Regulus trembled but obeyed, lifting the book with shaky hands. His voice quivered as he resumed reading, though it broke into louder whimpers when James’s hand returned, slick and warm, moving effortlessly over him now.

Desperate noises spilled from Regulus as he struggled to form coherent words. “This a-alloy is—is prized—oh fuck—for its ability…uhhh…uh…to repel dark magic…and…ah—” His voice cracked, his body jerking helplessly as his thoughts dissolved into haze.

James hummed softly in encouragement, his lips grazing the shell of Regulus’s ear, savoring every second. The sounds Regulus made sweet, desperate flooded him with a sense of possession. Every noise that fell from that pretty fucking mouth was filthy, and it was all for him.

“Oh gods, James,” Regulus whimpered, a shaky sob threading through his words. “I’m—uh—close, so close…” His entire body quaked, teetering on the edge, but James slowed again, his strokes deliberate and excruciating. Regulus let out a needy cry, knowing exactly what James wanted. Obedience.

James couldn’t help but smile, savoring the wrecked sound. He loved this. Loved hearing Regulus break for him.

“Protective charms…” Regulus gasped, forcing the words out even as his breath hitched. “Oh fuck—often used in the crafting of…uhhh…enchanted a-armor…”

James grinned wickedly, utterly entranced. The way Regulus kept reading, so desperate and pliant, even as his body betrayed him it was intoxicating. The soft gasps, the broken moans, the way Regulus trembled in his arms. James could hardly think straight.

“You’re so fucking good, baby,” James whispered, his voice low and full of praise. His hand quickened its pace, sensing that Regulus was seconds from coming undone. “Unreal. Come on—I wanna see you fall apart for me.”

Regulus let out a loud, desperate moan as the book slipped from his trembling hands, forgotten. He bucked into James’s grip, his hips moving involuntarily, chasing the pleasure that overwhelmed him.

“Please—James—fuck, please—oh gods, I’m gonna—” His words dissolved into a strangled cry as his orgasm overtook him. His body arched, pressing back against James as the tension shattered, wave after wave crashing through him.

James held him tightly, his hand steady as he worked him through the aftershocks. Soft praises spilled from his lips, reverent and full of affection. 

“That’s it, Reggie,” he murmured, pressing kisses to Regulus’s damp hair. “Gods, you have no idea what you do to me. You’re incredible, you know? So perfect.”

Regulus sagged bonelessly against him, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His flushed face tucked into the crook of James’s neck, seeking warmth and solace. The book lay forgotten, sprawled open on the blanket beneath them.

James’s arms wrapped securely around Regulus, holding him close, grounding him. “I’ve got you,” James whispered, his voice tender as his lips brushed Regulus’s temple. “Always.”

Regulus let out a soft hum of acknowledgment, too spent to reply. His limbs felt heavy, his body warm and content as he melted into James. 

For a long moment, all he could do was breathe. His hands shakily rose to cover his face, his embarrassment catching up to him now that the haze of pleasure was fading.

“I can’t believe I just let you do that,” Regulus mumbled, his voice muffled behind his hands. His cheeks burned crimson, a stark contrast to his usual composure.

James chuckled softly, the sound warm and teasing. “It’s alright, love. I put up privacy charms. No one but me will ever see or hear you like that.” His voice dropped into a low, possessive tone. “You’re mine, Reggie. Only mine.”

Regulus lowered his hands slightly, peeking at James through his lashes, his heart skipping a beat at the way James looked at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. Swallowing hard, he reached for his wand with a trembling hand, casting a quick cleaning charm over them both.

James smiled as he helped Regulus straighten up, then turned him gently to face him. “Come here,” he murmured, his hands guiding Regulus closer.

The kiss James pressed to his lips was deep and unhurried, tender in a way that made Regulus’s chest ache. He felt himself melt into it, the tension in his body dissolving as James cradled him like something precious. When James finally pulled back, his smile was soft, his thumb brushing against Regulus’s jaw.

“Up for a butterbeer?” James teased, his tone light, though his eyes shone with affection.

Regulus let out a genuine laugh, the sound rare and unguarded. “You’re the worst,” he said, shoving James’s shoulder weakly. But even as he pushed him away, he leaned back in, his lips finding James’s in a kiss that was deeper, needier, desperate to convey everything he couldn’t say aloud.

James let himself be pulled into it, his hands settling on Regulus’s waist, steadying him. But Regulus didn’t let go. Instead, he shifted, climbing onto James, pinning him against the tree with surprising strength despite his exhaustion.

Their lips moved together, unrestrained and fervent, and Regulus gave in completely, letting himself drown in the kiss. He felt the solid weight of James beneath him, the warmth of his chest radiating through his shirt, and pressed his palms flat against it, feeling the rythmic beat of his heart. 

James was so real, so steady, and Regulus clung to that. To him.

His thoughts threatened to creep in uncertainties about the future, the war, the precariousness of this fragile happiness, but James’s warmth pulled him back, anchoring him in the moment. Here, with James’s hands splayed across his back, his kisses unyielding yet gentle, Regulus let himself let go.

Regulus swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten, pouring everything he had into the kiss. James made him feel whole, and though that thought terrified him, it also warmed him in a way he didn’t fully understand.

For now, he allowed himself to lose himself in James. The warmth, the solidity, the love. He pressed closer, letting the beat of James’s heart under his palms soothe the uncertainties swirling in his mind.

Their lips finally parted, the urgency fading into a quiet intimacy as they lay together in the grass. Regulus shifted, resting his head on James’s chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. James’s fingers traced light patterns along Regulus’s back, a soothing rhythm that helped silence the darker thoughts clawing at the edges of his mind.

For a while, they stayed like that, the world around them fading into a distant hum. The occasional chirp of crickets filled the silence, mingling with the rustle of leaves in the summer breeze.

“Hey, Reggie,” James finally said, his voice soft, breaking the quiet. “Can I ask you something?”

Regulus’s body tensed almost imperceptibly, but he made a quiet sound of acknowledgment.

James hesitated for a moment, his fingers never pausing their gentle tracing. “What freaked you out yesterday?”

Regulus shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbow to avoid James’s gaze. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, brushing it off with a shrug. “You’re imagining things.”

James tilted his head, his brows knitting together. “I’m not imagining things,” he said gently. “You completely shut down when we were sitting in the garden.” He hesitated, his voice softening even more. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, but I don’t want you to think you have to deal with it on your own.”

Regulus exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “It’s not worth talking about.”

“It is if it’s bothering you,” James said, his voice steady but soft. He shifted slightly, his hand moving to cup the back of Regulus’s neck. “You don’t have to tell me everything, but I hate seeing you like that, Reg. You don’t have to carry it all alone anymore.”

Regulus glanced at him, his throat tightening at the sincerity in James’s voice. The words chipped away at his defenses, and he looked away again, his gaze falling to the grass. He picked at a stray blade, twisting it between his fingers.

“I…” Regulus began, his voice barely above a whisper. He paused, struggling to put his thoughts into words. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start wherever you want,” James encouraged, his thumb brushing lightly against the nape of Regulus’s neck. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Regulus hesitated again, but James’s quiet patience made it impossible for him to brush it off this time. With a deep breath, he finally spoke.

“I’ve never had a future that was mine to decide,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “Everything’s always been mapped out for me—what they wanted, what they expected. Even at school, I wasn’t free. I knew that once I left, my life wasn’t my own. I was just… a vessel for my parents’ desires.” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat, his fingers tightening around the blade of grass. “I’ve never had the option to choose what comes next for me.”

James’s hand stilled on his neck, sliding down to rest gently on Regulus’s shoulder. “But you have that now,” James said softly. “You do, Reg.”

Regulus scoffed lightly, though there was no humor in it. “Do I? Going back to school—it’s not going to be easy. My friends… They’re all…” he trailed off like he couldn’t bring himself to say it, “…Most of them are already halfway to the other side of the war. They’re just kids, but still… What are they going to think about me? About what I’ve done?”

James shifted, pulling Regulus up slightly so they were eye to eye. “Whatever happens back at school, you’re not alone anymore. You’ve got me. You’ve got Sirius, Remus, and my parents. And I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to you.” His voice was firm, his eyes burning with sincerity.

Regulus swallowed hard, the weight of James’s words pressing against the knot in his chest. For a moment, he thought about brushing it off with a sarcastic comment, but the tenderness in James’s expression stopped him.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Regulus admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Any of it. Relationships. Trust. I’ve had… meaningless flings before. Empty, hollow interactions just to stop thinking. To stop feeling. But this…” His voice faltered as his gaze dropped to James’s chest. “You’re not like them, James.”

James reached up, tilting Regulus’s chin so their eyes met again. “You don’t have to know everything right now,” James said gently. “I don’t want to push you, Reg. I just want you to know I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got time to figure out what you want, what you need. And I’ll be here, waiting.” His thumb brushed against Regulus’s jaw. “I think you’re… it for me, Regulus.”

The words hit Regulus like a Bludger to the chest. His lips parted slightly, his breath catching as he stared at James. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to respond. The idea of someone, of James, caring about him so deeply was overwhelming. Terrifying, even. But as he looked at James, at the unshakable certainty in his eyes, something inside him cracked open.

“I…” Regulus started, his voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that.” James’s voice was firm, but his touch remained gentle. “You deserve everything good in the world, Reg. And I’m going to make sure you get it.”

Regulus closed his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale as he rested his forehead against James’s. “You make it hard to stay cynical, you know.”

James laughed softly, the sound vibrating through Regulus’s chest. “Good. Someone’s got to keep you hopeful.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. The conversation lingered in Regulus’s mind, even as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the field. The darkness was still there, creeping at the edges, but for now, James’s steady heartbeat drowned it out.

James sat quietly for a moment, watching Regulus as the silence stretched between them. Then, with a sudden spark of determination, he sat up straighter, his face lighting up with a grin. “Alright, enough with the heavy stuff,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up.”

Regulus turned his head, brow quirking slightly in curiosity. James reached into his bag and pulled out a book, holding it out to him. Regulus’s eyes widened as he immediately recognized the cover. His hand shot out to grab it, a soft, genuine smile tugging at his lips as he cradled the book carefully.

“When did you grab this?” Regulus asked, his voice touched with surprise.

James leaned back on his hands, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “When you had your nose shoved in another book,” he said, his grin widening. “But wait—there’s more.”

Regulus blinked as James reached into the bag again and pulled out a second book, handing it over. Regulus took it, his chest tightening as he traced the spine with his fingers.

“You didn’t have to, James,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.

“I wanted to,” James said softly, leaning closer. “Seeing you happy is all that matters to me, Reg.”

Before Regulus could respond, James reached into the bag one last time and pulled out the third book. “I grabbed all the ones you looked at but didn’t get.”

Regulus stared at the three books in his lap, flipping through the pages carefully. His chest felt tight, the weight of James’s thoughtfulness pressing against his heart. He didn’t know what love was supposed to feel like, but he was starting to think it might feel exactly like this.

“You’re a sap, Potter,” he said finally, his voice betraying the emotion he was trying to hide.

James shrugged, still grinning. “Maybe,” he said easily, his heart fluttering as he took in the way Regulus looked at him. Soft and vulnerable in a way that made James feel like the luckiest person alive.

Regulus shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Is this all, or did you purchase the shop to go with it?”

James laughed, the sound warm and full of affection. “Maybe one day I’ll buy you a whole bookstore, Reggie.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, though there was no hiding the warmth in them. “I’ll hold you to that.”

James leaned in, his hand brushing Regulus’s cheek as he kissed him gently. It wasn’t rushed or urgent, it was soft and steady, full of everything he couldn’t put into words.

When he pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against Regulus’s, he smiled. “Wanna walk by the water for a bit?”

Regulus glanced down at the books in his lap before nodding, carefully stacking them in a neat pile. “Alright,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less warm.

James stood and held out his hand. Regulus took it without hesitation, letting James pull him to his feet. 

As they walked along the water’s edge, James veered off to the side, his eyes scanning the grass with a determined expression. Regulus stopped in his tracks, watching with raised eyebrows as James crouched down to pluck a small cluster of wildflowers from the ground.

“What are you doing?” Regulus asked.

James straightened, spinning around to face him with a grin. “What does it look like? I’m picking flowers,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Regulus blinked, utterly baffled. “And…why, exactly?”

James stepped closer, holding out the delicate yellow flowers to Regulus, who hesitated for a moment before taking them. “Because I think they suit you,” James said matter-of-factly, his grin widening when Regulus stared at him in disbelief.

“They suit me?” Regulus repeated, eyeing the flowers in his hand like they might explode.

“Obviously,” James replied, already scanning the grass for more. “But wait, I’m not done. These ones are just the start.”

Before Regulus could protest, James darted a few steps ahead and plucked another flower, a tiny white one this time. He spun around and walked back, placing it on top of the others in Regulus’s hand.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Regulus muttered, though his lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smile.

“Ridiculously charming,” James corrected, his tone teasing.

Regulus rolled his eyes, but his chest felt warm in a way that was becoming increasingly familiar when James was around. He tried to focus on the flowers instead, but James wasn’t done.

Over the next several minutes, James picked flower after flower, handing each one to Regulus with a cheeky comment or a dramatic flourish. “This one’s for your eyes,” he said as he handed over a deep purple bloom. “And this one? Definitely for that scowl of yours—balance things out a bit.”

Regulus snorted, but he couldn’t hide the way his lips quirked up at the corners. “You’re something else.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” James shot back, smirking as he tucked a tiny blue flower behind Regulus’s ear.

Regulus froze at the gesture, his heart doing an odd flip in his chest. He looked down at the small bouquet in his hands, his fingers tightening around the stems. “Why are you like this?” he asked softly, his voice barely audible.

James tilted his head, his grin softening into something warmer. “Like what?”

“So… kind. And romantic.” Regulus glanced up at him, his expression a mix of wonder and disbelief. “I don’t get it.”

James shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked backward, keeping his eyes on Regulus. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I like you, Reg.” He smiled, his voice dropping slightly as he added, “A lot.”

Regulus felt his throat tighten, and he looked down at the flowers again, his fingers brushing over the soft petals. “I’m not used to this,” he admitted quietly. “To someone being this… thoughtful.”

“Well, get used to it,” James said, his voice light but sincere. “Because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

Regulus glanced up, meeting James’s gaze, and something inside him shifted. He still felt like he was free-falling, but for the first time, he didn’t feel quite so afraid of where he might land.

“Merlin,” Regulus muttered, shaking his head with a small, incredulous smile. “You’re an idiot.”

James grinned, taking it as the compliment it was. “Maybe, but you’re holding my flowers,” he shot back. He reached forward to brush his wrist, “and wearing my bracelet.” 

Regulus huffed out a laugh, unable to help himself. “I’ll hold you to that bookstore, Potter,” he said, tucking the bouquet carefully against his chest.

James stepped closer, reaching out to gently tug at the flower behind Regulus’s ear. “Deal,” he said softly. Then, with a teasing smirk, he added, “Now, come on, Reg. Let’s see if I can find a flower as perfect as you.”

                  *   ~   *   ~   *

The sky was painted in hues of pink and gold as James and Regulus landed in the garden behind the house, the last rays of the setting sun casting a warm glow over them.

Their cheeks were flushed from the wind, their hair windswept. James hefted the basket filled with books, flowers, and potions supplies, refusing to let Regulus carry it, despite his protests.

As they walked toward the house, James glanced sideways at Regulus, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “So, did you have a good time?”

Regulus, ever composed, gave a dramatic sigh. “I had an awful time, Potter. Truly, one of the worst days of my life.”

James barked out a laugh, nudging Regulus playfully with his shoulder. “Oh, come off it, Reg.”

Regulus let his mask slip just enough to flash a soft smile. “It was lovely, James. No one’s ever done anything like that for me.”

James’s grin widened as he reached into the basket, pulling out the makeshift bouquet he’d crafted during their walk. He handed it back to Regulus with a flourish. “Well, I aim to please.”

Regulus took the flowers, his fingers brushing James’s for a brief moment. His cheeks flushed faintly as he muttered, “Thank you.”

“Always,” James replied, his tone warm and sincere.

When they reached the door, James shifted the basket to one arm and leaned in, pressing a small, featherlight kiss to Regulus’s lips. It was soft, gentle, and over almost before it began, but it left Regulus breathless. James pulled back and smiled at him, opening the door and stepping aside to let Regulus in first.

Inside, James headed to the sitting room to put down the basket, while Regulus entered the kitchen quietly, the flowers clutched in his hands. Euphemia was at the counter, humming softly as she prepared tea. She glanced up when she saw him, her face lighting up with a warm smile.

“Well, don’t you look windswept and rosy,” she teased gently, her eyes flicking to the flowers in his hands. “Did you two have a good time?”

Regulus hesitated, his fingers tightening around the stems. He wasn’t used to this kind of question? not one that was lighthearted, genuine, but Euphemia’s gaze was so kind, so patient, that he found himself nodding.

“We did,” he said softly. “James is… thoughtful.”

Euphemia let out a warm chuckle, moving to set two teacups on the counter. “That’s one way of putting it. He’s always been the romantic type, even when he was little. Used to pick me dandelions from the garden and tell me they were ‘golden roses.’”

Regulus’s lips twitched at the image, though he tried to hide it. “That sounds about right.”

She gestured to the bouquet in his hands. “Are those from him?”

He nodded, holding them out a little. “He picked them during our walk. I didn’t realize what he was doing until I had a whole handful.”

Euphemia stepped closer, admiring the flowers with a soft smile. “He’s got a good eye for beauty.” Her gaze flicked up to his face, and Regulus felt his cheeks heat.

“He didn’t have to do any of it,” Regulus murmured, looking down at the flowers. “But he did. I’m not… I’m not used to that.”

Euphemia’s smile softened, and she reached out, brushing a strand of his hair back. “You deserve to have someone do nice things for you, Regulus. It’s as simple as that.”

He swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. The sincerity in her voice left him feeling exposed, raw in a way that was both unsettling and strangely comforting.

“What else did he do?” she asked, her tone light again as she stepped back to pour the tea.

Regulus glanced at the bracelet on his wrist, lifting his hand slightly to show it to her. “He wove me this, and got a few books I liked but didn’t grab.”

She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling as she inspected the bracelet. “That’s lovely. He’s always been a thoughtful gift-giver, though I think he’s outdone himself this time.”

Regulus let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “He’s ridiculous.”

Euphemia smiled knowingly. “Ridiculous in all the best ways. And you must’ve enjoyed it, seeing as you’re smiling.”

He blinked, startled by the observation, then cleared his throat and looked away. “Maybe.”

Euphemia stepped closer suddenly, wrapping her arms around him in a warm, steady embrace. Regulus stiffened for a moment, completely caught off guard, but then his body relaxed as he let himself sink into the hug.

“I’m glad you found your way to us,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

Something broke in him at her words, and he clutched the flowers a little tighter as his arms slowly came up to return the hug. His chest tightened painfully, his throat burning as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

When they pulled back, Euphemia cupped his cheek gently, her thumb brushing just below his eye. “You’re always welcome here, love. Always.”

Regulus nodded, blinking quickly to clear the sheen in his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Go get cleaned up,” she said, stepping back and giving him a kind smile. “I’ll find you a vase for those flowers.”

Regulus nodded again, handing her the flowers lingering for a moment before he turned and left. The warmth of her embrace lingered long after, filling a part of him he hadn’t realized was so empty.

The day had been so much. Almost too much, but for once, it was in a way that felt good. He made his way upstairs, his footsteps light on the carpeted stairs as his mind drifted.

As he passed James and Sirius’s door, the sound of their voices caught his attention. Sirius’s loud, teasing tone was unmistakable.

“You’re such a sap, James! A blushing mess. Honestly, I’m shocked you didn’t swoon right there.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” James shot back, his voice playful but exasperated. “You’re unbearable.”

Their banter was warm in a way that made Regulus stop for a moment, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. It wasn’t just the words, it was the ease of it. The laughter, the love, the way they teased each other without malice. It was a sharp contrast to what he’d known for so long, but it was a contrast he was starting to appreciate.

Shaking his head slightly, he moved on, pushing open the bathroom door. The warmth of the shower offered a welcome escape, the steam clearing his mind and soothing the tension in his shoulders. By the time he was done, he felt a little more centered, though his emotions still lingered close to the surface.

When he returned to his room, he set his things down by the desk and paused. His books from earlier were stacked neatly, their spines aligned in a careful row. Beside them, the bouquet of flowers James had picked was arranged in a simple glass vase. For a moment, Regulus thought Euphemia must have done it. It seemed like something she would do.

But then his eyes landed on the small piece of parchment resting against the vase. His name was scrawled on the front in James’s handwriting.

Frowning softly, he reached for the note, unfolding it with careful fingers. The words inside were simple, but they hit him like a tidal wave:

“I put a charm on them so you’ll remember today always. –♡ Your Jamie♡”

Regulus stared at the note in his trembling hands, the words blurring together as his chest tightened. James’s handwriting was scrawled with its usual carelessness, but there was something about it that struck him, something about the thought behind it that hit harder than he could handle. The little hearts surrounding his name was almost too much, making his heart ache in a way he wasn’t familiar with. 

The tears came before he even realized it, unbidden and unstoppable, streaking silently down his cheeks. He wasn’t one to cry, he’d trained himself not to years ago. Tears were useless, and weakness was unacceptable. But now, as the weight of the last four weeks and his entire past collided, he couldn’t stop them.

His gaze drifted to the desk. The books James had bought for him were stacked in a neat row, their covers polished and aligned. The vase of flowers beside them was simple, but each stem had been arranged with care, the colors balanced and deliberate. James had taken the time to do that for him to make sure everything was perfect. And then there was the note, thoughtful and gentle, as if James knew Regulus would struggle to preserve the memory without a little push.

It was too much.

James’s gestures, these small, seemingly inconsequential acts of care, hit him harder than anything else ever had. They were so different from what he was used to. He wasn’t accustomed to people being kind for the sake of it, to someone taking the time to make him feel… loved.

Love.

The thought alone made his stomach twist painfully. He wasn’t sure what to do with it, wasn’t sure he could even accept it. He didn’t deserve this. The warmth, the care, the unwavering kindness it wasn’t for him. It couldn’t be.