Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

James’s cursor hovered over the unopened email in his inbox, “Blind Compatibility Quiz: Meet Your Perfect Mate!” It wasn't that James wasn’t curious about who the algorithm had matched him with, because he definitely was. The real source of his nerves came from realizing that his perfect match just received the same email, and not being able to gauge their reaction to his profile before he got his hopes up. Because it was too late for that. His hopes were up, stuck in his throat like the sweet bubbly burn of Lambrusco.

Running his hands through his hair, James leaned back in his desk chair, placing himself as far away from his laptop as possible without actually moving. A cheery little tune from the kitchen let him know the dishwashing cycle was complete. “Oh, thank Christ,” he mumbled and raced out of the room.

Steam fogged up his glasses as he stacked clean bowls in the cabinet without feeling their wet heat on his hands. All he could think about was taking the questionnaire and how he wished he remembered more of his answers. Out of the hundred or so survey questions, he had struggled most with the first three.

On a scale of 0 to 10, where 0 is the least true and 10 is the most true, answer the following questions:

• I am sexually and romantically attracted to alphas.

• I am sexually and romantically attracted to betas.

• I am sexually and romantically attracted to omegas.

Yes, I’m hypothetically sexually and romantically attracted to alphas, betas, and omegas. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to be with each of them. Although that’s not really fair, it’s not like their designation is their fault. Not that it’s a fault, exactly. Just a preference. In this case, my preference. Okay, so what’s my preference?

James knew what his preference was. But it wasn’t as simple as that. As soon as he’d presented, he knew bone-deep, intrinsically what he desired in a mate, what he was attracted to. It was as plain, as part of him, as true to him as the fact that he was now an alpha.

The thoughts and desires that are so obvious to you when you’re young get so easily convoluted with time. It was easy for his 14-year-old self to proclaim to his parents that one day James would be mated to an omega. But easy, innocent truths can get bastardized into becoming your shameful fantasies. The chorus of a lifetime of difficult conversations haunted him.

During a debate in class where a teenage James had been naive but honest about his desires: “An alpha/omega pairing is so basic, it’s giving nuclear family, Barbie and Ken energy. Of course, you want an omega. And I bet it doesn’t matter who it is, right? Anyone will do? Alphas only think with their knots.”

On a dating app, messaging with a match: “Why does it matter what my designation is? I need to be with someone who likes me for me. You either like me or you don’t.”

And the worst of it was in a college lecture on designation studies: “Sociologically speaking, omegas are a vulnerable population, so an alpha’s attraction to them is not just an abuse of power and coercion, but fetishization.”

James wanted an omega.

And he hated himself for it.

Chapter Text

Regulus hurried into his apartment and out of the snowstorm, wiping his boots on the mat. He methodically undressed in the entryway, peeling off layer after layer of dark fabric. Regulus unwound his cashmere scarf, plucked off his leather gloves, and hung his wool beret on the coat rack before digging his buzzing phone from his pocket.

Idiot: 🫖☕️⁉️5️⃣🙏

At this point in their lifelong friendship, Regulus didn’t even have to ask. He just reacted to the text with a thumbs up and put the kettle on.

Ten minutes later, the front door slammed. Barty exploded into their apartment, stomping the slush off his sneakers and onto their hardwood floors, shouting, “Post came for you!”

Regulus ducked his head to busy himself with the thrifted mugs. He was still hiding his smile and letting the cups steep when the human wrecking ball made his way to the kitchen.

Barty held the brown box up to the light and pretended to read the label. “Huh, looks like another pervert parcel addressed to one Regulus Black.”

“Give it here, you wanker!” Regulus screeched and lunged at Barty, attempting to snatch the package from his arms.

“Why? You don’t want this, right?” he cackled and lifted the box even higher out of his roommate’s reach. “Should we just send it back?”

“Fucking monkey arms.” He clawed at Barty’s lanky, wriggling form and considered whether he could get away with kicking him in the balls.

Barty circled the table as Regulus chased him, dodging chairs and carrying on, taunting, “Because this must be a mistake, Reg. I mean, there’s no way you ordered MORE nasty clothes off that sketchy app.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barty,” Regulus hissed, landing a punch to his arm, tugging hard when he finally got purchase on a corner of the box.

Barty stopped struggling. “Ooh, tea!” he cooed, noticing the two identical grey mugs on the table. He straightened and tossed the box over his shoulder without warning.

Regulus jumped to catch it, cradling it to his chest.

Plopping down at the table, Barty grabbed a mug and held it up to his nose. “Rooibos?” he asked as a smirk crawled across his pale face. “A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“You’re a dick,” Regulus huffed, watching the world’s most frustrating omega carefully.

“Your funeral.” Barty shrugged, taking a sip of the steamy drink. “Mmm, peppermint! My favorite, thanks, Reg.” Settling into his seat, he threw his beanie onto the table, revealing his freshly dyed pink hair.

They may have had similar backgrounds with shitty upbringings and even shittier families, but they couldn’t have turned out more differently. Aside from being the same designation, which, even that, was hard to tell at a glance. There was delicate Regulus with his petite stature, but perfect posture due to years of ballet. And Barty, whose bones creaked and cracked when he stood and stretched because of years of unexpected growth spurts.

If Barty burned and burst like a strike of lightning hitting a house, Regulus was the dark aftermath. Misleading in its quiet danger.

“Whatever.” Regulus grabbed his own drink with his free hand, still angling the parcel away from Barty as if he would reach out and take it at any time.

As he sped through the hallway to his bedroom to open his delivery in peace, there was a muffled, “And don’t come crying to me if your favorite alpha uses the spunk you wash his clothes in to frame you for murder!”

Asshole always needs to have the last word. Regulus was just glad that he’d made it back to his room before Barty caught the flush on his face.

It made sense that Barty would assume that Regulus returned the alpha’s clothes with his scent mixed in. But it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Before shipping the clothes back, Regulus sends them out for dry cleaning. It killed him every time. Separating his essence from the alpha’s went against every instinct, but it was his only option.

Regulus’s scent was unconventional at best—and that was being generous—toxic at worst. It was a source of perpetual shame for the young omega and made dating impossible.

Typically, Regulus tried to keep the clothes pure for as long as possible, sealing them tight and burying them with his nesting supplies. The sweet spot was a week in, when his scent and the alpha’s were merged perfectly, soaked into the threads of the fabric in euphoric harmony. A week or two later, and it would be all Regulus’s toxic pheromones with no trace of the alpha.

He plopped down at the edge of his bed and began changing into pajamas, pulling off socks and swapping tailored black trousers for silky emerald bottoms.  

Plugging his phone into the bedside charger, he got comfortable under the covers and opened his ScentSwap app. The shady marketplace for alphas and omegas to sell their pheromone-soaked clothes was Regulus’s guilty pleasure. Well, he also liked cigarettes. And cocktails. Doomscrolling on social media. Making out with hot betas and never seeing them again. Fucking himself for hours in expensive lingerie. Reality television.

He supposed he had a few guilty pleasures.

But his favorite was ScentSwap, specifically because of Ciervo, the alpha that Regulus started ordering clothes from almost a year ago. Originally, he’d downloaded the clothing rental app because he read online that it was supposed to be a godsend for managing heats. But since then, he’d become addicted to the alpha's scent, sleeping in his oversized sweaters, wrapping the alpha’s soft t-shirts around his hand when he stroked his cock.

Regulus opened the app to quickly confirm receipt of delivery. He clicked on the seller’s profile.

Ciervo, Alpha (M), 20

Scent profile:

• Top note: Cinnamon
• Heart note: Orange Blossom
• Base note: Cedar

After sending the message, he rated the transaction five stars, as always, although a selfish part of him didn’t want anyone else to order from his favorite seller. And it wasn’t due to jealousy. If the alpha’s profile got too popular, Regulus might start getting sent less desirable items.

Or there could be shipping delays! It would be bad for business. Horrible, really. That was all there was to it. It was better for both of them if Ciervo’s account remained under wraps.

Regulus imagined Ciervo sending him a single worn sock for his heat, and panic set in. Maybe he should start rating him four stars.

Spiraling, Regulus almost threw up when his phone vibrated.

Etoilenoire: Received, thanks!

Ciervo: Great! Hope you don’t think this is weird, but I added in something extra this time. I was going to throw them out, but it felt wasteful if they could help someone at all? But please feel free to throw them out if you want, I promise I will not be offended.

“What?” Regulus read the message three times before ripping into the box. The burst of warm, spicy cinnamon hit him first. He snatched a maroon hoodie out of the package, holding it against his face and huffing the scent. This close, he could almost taste the fresh citrus, followed by woodsy cedar that sent the feeling of rightness rushing down his veins.

Fuck. It just smelled so right.

He shifted his thighs, hoping for friction, as his cock began to harden. It’s unclear if it’s purely Ciervo’s scent that gets him aroused so quickly, or if he’s created a Pavlovian reaction to it because he’s spent so much time climaxing and leaking slick in its presence.

Tilting his head back, he moaned into the soft fabric. Ripping off his top, he pulled the hoodie over his bare chest, zipping it halfway, feeling it caress his skin like an embrace. One side hangs off his shoulder, revealing a pale shoulder, dotted with light constellations of freckles.

In his ecstasy, he almost missed the flash of crimson tucked into the corner of the package. Long pale fingers clutch the fabric and inspect the item in the light. When he finally realized what he was looking at, his eyes widened. This is a first, and Regulus isn’t great at handling firsts.

Ciervo had sent Regulus a pair of boxer briefs.

Completely frozen, Regulus ogled them for a full minute, letting an onslaught of thoughts waterfall through his mind. With shaky hands, he brought the used underwear up to his nose, trying to drown himself in the alpha’s essence. Regulus suppressed a whine as slick trickles down his crack.

The fabric held information: the last time the alpha wore them, the last time he came in them, the positively alluring smell of that release. With a moan, Regulus realizes the tiny, unintentional thrusts of his hips mean he’s humping the bed. He shoved down his pajama bottoms, knowing they would be wet with slick already. His teeth bit down harder, picturing the junction of throat and clavicle.

Your alpha wanted you to have these. No one else. Regulus’s delusional inner omega dripped with glee. Alpha wants you to think about him touching himself. Touching himself for you. He wants you to cum all over his underwear and send it back to him. Alpha wants his omega to be good for him, to scent them too.

Some part of him knew that it may not be true. This is a business after all, and Regulus pays for his clothes. But that doesn’t stop Regulus from gripping his hard cock at the thought.

A base instinct had Regulus parting the lush, rosy line of his lips and stuffing the briefs in his mouth. Saliva pooled on his tongue, coating the fabric with hot wetness. He imagined the faceless alpha pinning him down. Imagined his alpha’s fingers stuffing him as he bent him over to ravage him.

As soon as the ghost of Ciervo’s spunk reached Regulus’s tongue, the sensation was instantaneous. He didn’t even have time to reach around to play with his hole or cup his balls. A gasp gets stuck in his throat. His stomach clenches.

The delicious roughness of the fabric’s texture burned his tongue in an obscene way. Regulus sucked every last molecule of musky taste from the underwear, hollowing his cheeks, until he was shaking with need and tension.

It took just three hard, dirty strokes of his shaft until he shuddered, milky cum spilling from his erection and down his long fingers.

Once he’d drained the last of it and settled through the aftershocks, he lay back on the pillow, carefully pulling the wet briefs out of his mouth. “Bloody hell. What am I supposed to say back to him now?”

Under the threat of torture, Regulus could never let the alpha figure out what had just happened between him and the underwear. Staring blankly at their messages, Regulus tried to draft a response that didn’t allude to how depraved his reaction was or how much he had enjoyed the gift, his phone buzzed again.

This time, the notification comes from his email, not ScentSwap. Subject line: “Blind Compatibility Quiz: Meet Your Perfect Mate!”

Regulus is screwed.

Chapter Text

“Cheers,” Barty said solemnly, clanking his shot glass against Regulus’s and the bartender’s. Lukewarm tequila overflowed from the rim and down Regulus’s fingers. Regulus grimaced as the drink burned his throat and reached for his cold can of sour beer.

“Thanks, Pandora. You’re a saint,” Barty said. Regulus stacked them, then pushed the empty glasses back across the bar to the bartender. With a salute, the blonde collected them and wiped off the wooden bar top with a rag before going to help other customers.

For the millionth time since they sat down at the pub, Barty ran his hands up and down his face and through his hair. “I just don’t know what to fuckin’ say. How the hell am I supposed to carry on with a stranger over chat for ages until I can convince them to meet up?”

“The offer stands. You can dictate aloud, and I’ll type it out for you, like when we were doing applications,” Regulus said, remembering how frustrated Barty had been last year filling out the paperwork for the Salazar Dance Conservatory.

“Yeah. Thanks, Reg.” Barty sighed, taking a long swig.

Regulus put a hand on Barty’s knee. “Hey. If they’re really your soulmate,” he said, making a mockery of the last word, “they’ll understand. You don’t like to text, it’s not a big deal. I mean, if they’re anything except a complete asshole, they’ll understand.”

Barty interlocked his hands and stretched his long arms up to the ceiling. “Whatever. I might be dumb, but at least I’m hot.”

“Oh, shut up,” Regulus said, halfheartedly trying to push Barty off the stool.

He had always hated it when Barty implied that having dyslexia made him dumb. It was a less common practice now than when they were growing up, but he knew it would always be a sore spot for his friend. There were fonts that made Barty’s life easier, but he still preferred phone calls or sending emojis. Moving out of his parents' house had also made his life and managing the learning difference easier. Regardless, he didn’t like talking about it.

“You’re not dumb, but you’re certainly delusional. I don’t know who lied and said that you were hot. You’re mid at best.”

“Well, I never!’ Barty gasped and pressed a palm to his chest in mock offense.

Regulus pushed down the creeping anxiety about his own unopened email. It wasn’t uncommon to use scent blockers and scent-blocking products every day, like Regulus did. But his match would eventually ask him about his scent. He would have to be vague. Dark? Moody? Bitter? Dangerous? Those weren’t lies, exactly. But not the full truth either. Not as clear as fruity or floral.

The pub around the corner from their apartment was quiet. Just how the two young men liked it.

Their beer and shot combo was cheap and lethal. Which was also how they liked it.

When the roommates had both received the stupid Blind Compatibility Quiz results a few hours ago, it had simultaneously felt like flying and drowning. Regulus had shrieked and thrown his phone before carefully stuffing Ciervo’s package away in his closet. Barty decided he was going to need a few drinks in him before opening the email.

Historically, omegas had more rights than ever. All different types of safe suppressants and birth controls were available at the local pharmacies. People were giving birth later, prioritizing education and financial independence over starting a family young.

And that meant national birth rates were low.

So Regulus understood why the government was getting involved in matchmaking, forcing unmated alphas and omegas between ages 18 and 25 to register for their bloody compatibility test. But pretending that this combination of eugenics, data breaches, and marketing jargon had anything to do with “soulmates” was a joke.

“I'll open yours if you open mine,” Barty said, holding his phone out to Regulus.

“Fine.” Regulus dug his phone out of his pocket, navigated to the email app, and handed it over.

Barty stared at the screen for a moment before gasping. “They said they couldn’t find anyone for you. Better luck next time,” he teased.

“Oh fuck off, I’ll go first.” Regulus rolled his eyes, opened Barty’s email, and read aloud. “Meet your soulmate...” he scoffed, “Alright, he’s an alpha, age 19. His initials are ESR, and he’s a small business owner.”

“That’s it?”

Regulus scrolled through the message. “Pretty much. He’s offline and currently located thirty miles from here. At least he’s our age.”

“Useless information,” Barty huffed, waving a hand, and chugged the rest of his beer.

“Well, what else do you want to know?”

“I can chat with him?” Barty asked.

Regulus nodded and clicked on the chat feature. It launched a text message to ESR19A with the pre-written copy: “Hey Soulmate! I’d love to get to know you a little better. Tell me about yourself.* [We know it can be hard to send the first message! Start off with an icebreaker, like ‘Tacos or pizza?’ or try asking about their hobbies!] *NOTE: Do not share any personal information with strangers, including your full name. Blind Compatibility Quiz cannot and will not be held accountable for any criminal activity or inappropriate behavior.” Hypocrites. Regulus immediately deleted the prompt, imagining how horrible his first conversation was going to go with whoever was unlucky enough to match with him. “What should I write?”

“Ask for a photo of his knot,” Barty said, dead serious.

“BARTY, NO!” Regulus cried, stuffing the phone back into Barty’s hand. “Ugh, I’m not doing that. Give me this stupid thing.” He took his own phone back. A text from his brother came in, and he immediately swiped it away.

“Okay, I’m just going to look, I’m never going to message them,” Regulus said, more to himself than to Barty. Nerves crawled up his throat like scratching claws. His thumb pressed down a little too hard on the screen as the message opened.

“Hey, 20, that’s not bad,” Barty said, leaning over Regulus’s shoulder. Anxiety mixed with anticipation and a curious softening of his heart all hit Regulus in an instant.

Meet your soulmate: JFP, 20, Alpha (M), Online Now!

The world faded away beyond the screen. He read the words over and over as his heart paused its beating.

It was not enough information and entirely too much at the same time.

A prickling awareness in his temples brought him back to his body when he realized he had been staring at the screen, unmoving, for too long. Forcing himself to swallow, breathe, and come back to his surroundings, he turned to Barty, who was sporting a smug look.“What?” Regulus asked, suddenly feeling naked.

Barty flashed his screen to Regulus, pride dripping from his voice. “Figure I’ve got it sorted.” While Regulus had been sucked into the vortex that was JFP, 20, Alpha (M), Barty had already sent a message to his own alpha: the words, “Call me!” followed by Barty’s phone number.

“Simple. That’s perfect.” And brave, Regulus thought with a little envy and a lot of longing. He pressed “Chat” and deleted the pre-written prompt. The blank screen mocked him, feeling more like a battleground minutes before an attack than anything else.

Why hadn’t his match messaged him yet?

The site said he was online. So why? Was he already in a loving relationship, but unmated? Was he straight? Could he somehow—from those few words alone, his age, his designation—tell there was something fundamentally wrong with Regulus?

There was no way Regulus would give in and message JFP first. That would be pathetic. No, Regulus would wait. And if the first message he received was up to his standards, only then would he consider replying. JFP meant nothing to him. And Regulus was petty enough to wait forever.

Chapter Text

James crouched down in the corner of the spacious dance studio. The morning sun was bright enough that he didn’t need to bring any external lighting. He pulled the battery pack off of the charging port and slipped it in his pocket, then angled the tall tripod to face the center of the room where Remus worked through a series of complicated floor stretches.

James rolled his neck, simultaneously grateful and envious that his major wasn’t dance. The closest he got to doing a split was warming up for his daily workouts in his building’s luxury gym.

Loud buzzing broke through their peaceful setup.

“That’ll be Lily,” Remus said, gliding to the door to let his dance partner into the building.

James offered a small smile, silently reassuring Remus that he was fine and perfectly happy to assist them today, regardless of his past sexual history with her.

Over a year had passed since Lily told James that they couldn’t keep hooking up because she wanted to spend the summer exploring her attraction to women. And he had taken it as a courtesy when she called him in the fall, explaining that she was a lesbian, and wouldn’t be reaching out for any more late night booty calls.

“Darling, so lovely to see you.” Lily strut into the studio, a flash of ginger hair and alpha star power. She dropped a handful of bags and opened her arms for Remus, who double kissed her cheeks. Her floral patchouli scent completely overwhelmed any subtle scents coming from the beta.

“Jamie,” she said warmly and cocked her head, signaling him to come over. “Thanks again for doing this for us.”

He gave her a light hug, careful to keep his scent off of her. “Hey Lils,” he said, fixing his glasses. “It’s no problem. I can use the raw footage for my advanced video editing assignments, so it helps me too.”

As they caught up and Lily began stretching, Remus connected his phone to the speakers and fiddled with the music.

“For today’s run through, we’ll have to rehearse like this,” Remus said, gesturing to his casual leggings and cut off tank top. “Pads will be by the studio a bit later. I think there are a few directions he’s deciding between, but he wants to see the dance before pulling samples. Did you see his text earlier?”

“Yeah, the punk option was alright but a little too literal? I preferred the vintage mood board he sent over,” Lily replied to Remus, making eye contact through the mirrored wall.

“It works better for the song,” Remus agreed, reaching down to help her stand up. “Not sure it makes sense for lyrical, acid daydream as it were,” he added under his breath.

Swinging up into his arms in a fluid motion, James could practically hear Lily rolling her eyes as she replied, “It’s Pucci.”

“Right.”

The two practiced lifts for a few minutes and went over steps before signaling to James they were ready to record.

“Are you filming on your phone too?” Lily asked, getting into position with Remus and clasping hands.

James nodded. “I’ll get two angles.” He pointed at the tripod, “one vertical with my phone,” and held up a silver digicam, “and I’ll follow you with this to get a closer look.”

She thanked him as Remus mumbled something that had a flush climbing her neck. “Why? Do you need me to send you a copy for your socials?” James asked.

Her green eyes widened. “Yep! Exactly.” 

Remus chucked, raising a brow, “Are you sure it’s not for PSR?”

“Oh, shut it,” she said, whacking her partner’s shoulder and moving to starting position, kneeling on the floor.

“I thought you said your soulmate wanted to see how talented a dancer her alpha is?” Remus teased. Lily glanced at James but didn’t say anything.

James pushed through the uncomfortable knot in his throat. He tried to sound casual when he asked, “You too, huh?”

She nodded and offered a sympathetic smile. “How about you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Well, actually, we haven’t messaged yet.”

At that, Lily gave James an incredulous look. “Hold on. James, do you mean you matched with an omega through the Blind Compatibility Quiz and haven’t messaged them yet?”

Avoiding eye contact, he messed with his phone, hopefully checking for a message from an omega he already knew he wanted to get to know. Still nothing. He hid the disappointment from his face when he replied, “Uh, yeah?” 

She groaned. James had the good sense to be embarrassed but attempted to defend himself. “RAB hasn’t…He hasn’t messaged me first either.”

“What?” Remus asked, no longer even pretending to not be listening to their conversation. The question earned him a sharp look from both alphas.

“Look, I know you have a thing…hang ups…about omegas,” she started with a more sympathetic tone.

James swallowed and looked at his sneakers. No one said it was easy being friends with someone who had intimate knowledge of the issues in your love life.

“But they’re omegas. They shouldn’t have to message the alpha first. I know you think you’d be pressuring him by reaching out first, but he probably feels rejected right now. It’s just their biology.”

James hated biology. Lily knew James was worried about infantilizing omegas by reducing them to their biology. She knew how deep that guilt ran, that he had volunteered for omega charities in the past. Thankfully, she didn’t know about the more unconventional support methods he had gotten interested in after they had stopped hooking up.

“Just message him first to open the door. That gives him the option to walk through it and message you back, or not. It’s more presumptuous for you to assume that he’s embarrassed of his designation’s biology and wants to reject it.”

James forced himself to breathe steadily, not allowing himself to succumb to the anxiety this conversation was causing.

“We only have the room booked for another hour,” Remus interrupted. Without waiting for confirmation, he started the song. Confirming the video settings, James began recording on his phone before getting back into position. 

“Swingin Party” by The Replacements filled the room as Remus followed Lily. They moved, flowing and swishing against each other like oil chasing water, getting as close as possible, molding and melding to each other’s shapes. Muscle flexed under Remus’s scarred tan skin as he moved.

James knows that Remus choreographed the song with Sirius in mind. Not because Remus had admitted it, but because he knew it was their song. Sirius and James had been roommates their first year at Godric School of Visual Arts.

James had suffered through Sirius drunkenly playing the song over and over in their dorm, pining over Remus, who at the time was a quiet upperclassman who barely knew Sirius existed. Remus was a dance major and Sirius was in fashion design, so they didn’t have classes together. When they ran into each other at parties or in the halls, it felt fated. The slow song was on the first playlist he’d made for Remus after confessing his feelings.

“If being wrong's a crime, I'm serving forever / If being strong is what you want, then I need help here with this feather.

If being afraid is a crime, we hang side by side / At the swingin' party down the line.”

Over the past school year, James watched them from the sidelines. They’d tumbled into deep friendship before falling into even deeper, satisfying love and was proud to call the couple his closest friends. But a tiny voice in the back of his mind couldn’t help but be jealous.

James wanted that. To be loved. To be understood so completely still accepted with open arms.

But life was simple between two betas.

Simple in a way that didn’t seem possible for an alpha.

No heats. No ruts. No government interference.

Light on his feet, James followed Lily and Remus with the camera. The alpha forced his focus into his videography and out of his feelings to capture their lifts and twists and turns across the studio floor.

The dance acted out the song, Remus chasing Lily around imaginary obstacles as she teased him forward without letting him catch her. Remus contorted himself into irregular shapes to mirror her movements and become whatever his character believed she desired.

At some point during the sweeping choreo, James heard the door open behind them and bags being set on the ground, aware that Sirius had entered the room, but too wrapped up in the dance to look.

Lily and Remus exploded in a final, dramatic pose, chests heaving with their labored breathing.

From the back of the room, Sirius clapped, sticking his fingers between his teeth to whistle. James whooped from behind the camera as the dancers grinned and broke apart.

“That was fucking gorgeous, darling,” Sirius praised, planting a kiss on Remus’s glistening shoulder.

“You think so?” Remus asked, leaning in for a proper kiss. Sirius grunted in affirmation. “How’s Reg?”

“Not bad,” Sirius started. “He lent me the bodysuit and tights I’m considering for Lily’s costume.”

As Lily chugged from her reusable water bottle, James walked over to the couple to greet Sirius.

James greeted him, wrapping an arm around Sirius’s black and red motorcycle jacket. Leaning in close, he was met with Sirius’s familiar subtle scent, but below that, there was something new clinging to his skin. Something fucking delicious. And utterly omega.

Chapter Text

Nights when the bar around the corner from their apartment was empty were pure comfort. Usually. Tonight, Regulus and Barty had been sitting there for about thirty seconds before Pandora popped up from behind the counter, phone in hand.

“You two are ballerinas, right?” she asked.

“Pretty much,” Barty said after choking on a laugh.

“Ballet dancers,” Regulus mumbled and ducked his head, trying to hide in his scarf.

She spoke so quickly, her words all blended together, “Okay, perf, cuz I need you to watch this video of my soulmate Lily dancing and tell me what I can reply that makes it sound like I understand dance!” Without taking a breath, Pandora stuck the phone in their faces, pushed the long blonde hair behind her small ears, and started the playback.

Two figures danced with another traipsing behind them, getting a closer shot. They were clearly professionals, their smooth movements honed by years of practice. The ginger had more star power, more of that captivating leadership quality. But Regulus was drawn towards the man’s clean, precise style.

Regulus drew in a sharp breath that startled his friends.

“Wait, your soulmate sent you this video? I know him,” Regulus gasped, pointing at Pandora’s phone and leaning in.

She paused the video. “Who? The other dancer?”

“Yeah,” he tapped the screen, “can you zoom in?”

Pandora laid the phone on the bar-top, letting Regulus pinch to expand on the man’s face. 

“Who is he?” Barty asked, squinting and leaning forward on his stool.

Regulus whipped his own phone from the pocket of his pinstripe trousers and opened his brother’s sparse social media profile, navigating to tagged photos. “I think that’s my brother’s boyfriend? To be honest, I don’t even know the guy's real name, Sirius just calls him Moony. Idiot. I’ve only met him a few times in passing.” He found a picture of the couple and compared the screens.

Barty’s whistle was loud and low, “With those scars? That’s definitely the same bloke.” He grinned at Pandora. “Guess she really is your soulmate, you two already have a connection in common.”

Dutifully ignoring the jealous tinge in his gut, his mind couldn’t help but wander back to his own alpha “soulmate” and the email in his inbox.

At this point, enough time had passed that Regulus was surprised his match hadn’t initiated contact.

Maybe he wants nothing to do with me because he can sense that I’m fucked up, Regulus thought, not for the first time, absentmindedly twirling the silver rings on his long fingers.

How could an alpha and an omega even be soulmates? It’s not like they would ever be able to understand one another.

He thought of his deceased alpha mother with disdain and the way his spineless father had obliged her every toxic whim.

He didn’t let himself think of a certain alpha who smelled of warm, fall spice, who hadn’t responded to his last message on the clothing swap app.

Lately, it felt like everyone he knew was going crazy over their results. All the conversations he overheard in rehearsals and the hottest topic on social media were about this idiotic test.

It was inescapable and, frankly, starting to give him a headache.

But what was really so wrong with him? Fine, he had an off-putting scent. Fine.

Some leftover trauma from growing up in a shit household. Fair.

A weird relationship with his brother, who he had just recently reconnected with. Basically irrelevant.

Aside from that?

Regulus felt he was somewhat normal. He was, for the most part, clever, objectively attractive, and typically well dressed. His friends cherished him and he was a damn good dancer.

Pandora’s eyes sparkled with a far-off look. “Mm,” she made an approving sound before pressing play again. “She’s a dance major at GSVA. Your brother goes there too, right?”

“Yeah, for fashion design.”

They watched as the dancers glided and dipped through the bright studio. The videographer, a blur in the mirror of tan skin and dark hair chased them, artfully angling the camera to complement the choreo.

“She’s just ethereal, isn’t she?”

“Good form,” Barty said as his pointer followed the line of Lily’s raised arm down to her hand.

“Both of them,” Regulus confirmed, taking a sip of his sour beer. Today’s featured draft was tart and stone fruit-forward. He loved the tingly burn on his tongue from the acid.

A new customer came in, and the winter wind shot through the bar with an icy chill. Pandora muttered, “Be right back,” and left to take her order.

⭐️☁️💫

On Friday evening, the honk of a car on the street woke Regulus from a nap. All the lights were off in his apartment. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep on the couch with reruns of Real Omegawives playing in the background, but on nights like this, when it was freezing outside and got dark early, naps were par for the course.

He and Barty had danced for hours together in the morning, reserving time at a practiced studio space on campus. There was a citywide performing arts showcase coming up and they both planned to audition for pieces.

Regulus had sweat so much that his scent-blocking spray had worn off, and he rushed to get home before a stranger could scent him and give him a dirty look, or worse, hold their nose. Even worse? Look at him with faux-understanding and pity.

Once they’d gotten back to their apartment, Barty had run around in a frenzied panic, destroying Regulus’s neatly organized closet, searching for something suitable to wear on his date.

You only have once chance to make a good first impression on your soulmate, Regulus chided bitterly in his head. It wasn’t jealousy. He could be happy for his friend and still skeptical of the whole compatibility test thing.

Though he had to admit it was nice that Barty and Evan (ESR had shared his name last week) were willing to give up a perfectly good Friday to meet. Typically, Regulus felt weekends were sacred, and therefore to be spent with friends. He didn’t date often, but when he did, he wasn’t going to waste a Friday and Saturday on someone who could end up being a dud.

If you really liked someone, he thought, you wouldn’t mind giving up a weekend night.

A microhit of endorphins rushed through him as a notification lit up Regulus’s phone screen on the coffee table.

He wasn’t quick enough to stop himself from hoping it was a message from Ciervo on ScentSwap.

That’s why he wasn’t prepared to stop the drain of disappointment when it wasn’t him.

Subject: Your Perfect Match is Waiting

Body: Don’t miss out on true love! Our systems show you and your match have not yet made contact. These alpha/omega pairings have taken preferences, practicalities, and the ineffable feeling that is love into account. We use an advanced AI algorithm and expert, human matchmakers to ensure you’ve found your person. Click the link to start a conversation now. Your soulmate is waiting.

Fuck that and fuck JFP for not messaging him first.

Regulus angrily closed out of the app and opened his messages.

Nothing.

He had been asleep for hours and no one had texted him.

The pang of loneliness was both empty and sinking. An awareness that he needed to take action if he wanted to see his friends.

Barty would be out for hours, maybe the night if the date went well. Dorcas usually worked Friday nights. Pandora usually didn’t, but were they close enough yet to hang out outside of the bar? Even Sirius hadn’t texted him, his annoying older brother who normally jumped on every occasion to see Regulus, as if he was making up for the time they lost not speaking.

Whatever. It was fine. He had been single his whole life. Now wasn’t the time to start getting emotional about it.

Regulus plugged his phone into the charger so it lay face down on the rug, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep.

⭐️☁️💫

BLIND COMPATIBILITY MESSENGER

Tuesday, 10 a.m.

JFP: Nice to meet you, RAB! How’s your day going?

Tuesday, 1 p.m.

JFP: It says here that you work as a dancer. What kind of dance?

Wednesday, 8 p.m.

JFP: I guess you don’t want to talk, that’s totally fine. I know this is pretty awkward, but let me know if you ever want to meet up.

JFP: Not in a weird way, just as friends or if you ever need someone to talk to.

JFP: Really, I’ll be here if you ever need anything.

Friday, 12 a.m.

RAB: If I ever need anything???

RAB: What kind of meaningless claim is that? Arrogant of you to presume you’d be able to give me what I need.

Friday, 8 a.m.

JFP: Hi, RAB. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was an honest offer.

Saturday, 2 a.m.

RAB: u didn’t offend me

RAB: I don’t expect anything from you so it would be impossible for u to offend me

JFP: Okay. I’m glad I didn’t offend you.

RAB: ha

JFP: So what should I call you?

RAB: i don't care

JFP: Ok...

RAB: what r u offering anyway

JFP: Depends. What do you want?

RAB: that’s cheating. Shouldn’t my soulmate know exactly what to get me?

JFP: I’m open to getting to know each other if that’s what you want to do. No pressure.

JFP: It looks like you’re only a few from me. So, you’re in the city too, I’m guessing? We could grab a coffee.

RAB: My soulmate would know that my time is worth more than just buying me a coffee

JFP: Right. Lunch?

JFP: Dinner?

Sunday, 11 a.m.

RAB: Yawn

JFP: Morning. Is that yawn referencing our late-night texting, or do you not like my idea?

RAB: What do you think

JFP: Hmmm… I’m going to go with our chat in order to not completely put myself at a disadvantage here

JFP: How’s dinner and drinks? My treat, obviously.

RAB: Is that your final offer?

JFP: And a show? If you like dance, I could get us tickets to the theater? Or we could see a film?

RAB: I’ll think about it but don’t get your hopes up

Chapter Text

Barty Crouch Jr. had two modes of being: Chaos and scheming. And on days like today, he vacillated between both. His playlist of liked songs blared throughout their apartment on shuffle, rap switching to hyperpop in a jolting manner that was entirely Barty.

Packing a backpack for his upcoming heat, the omega had started finding hidden lost treasures in his room. That was how he ended up wearing a green Christmas elf hat, digging through their medicine cabinet.

“Somehow, I don’t think you’re going to need the costume,” Regulus said and turned the overhead fan on to get the preheat musk out of their apartment.

“Don’t kink-shame me,” Barty said, bell jingling merrily as his head moved. He stuffed a bottle of ibuprofen into his bag. “You never know what you’re going to need when the haze kicks in. Plus, I’ve never been to Evan’s apartment. What if it’s horrifically ugly and uncomfortable and I regret going the moment I walk in?”

Regulus flops down on the couch and watches his friend dig through piles of blankets. “You liked his scent, right? His apartment is obviously going to smell like him.”

A scratchy sound comes from Barty’s throat, “He smells like mint, Reg. Mint. Do you have any idea how hot that is?”

Regulus grunted. He could imagine. Mint was one of the more coveted alpha scents. His mind drifted to his favorite alpha scent: Ciervo on ScentSwap’s warm, woodsy cinnamony-orange blossom goodness.

His eyes shut as he rubbed his temples. Ciervo hadn’t messaged him in over two weeks. That was unusual for him. Regulus typically didn’t go a week without subtly flirting with the mysterious alpha on the app. He opened the app to torture himself, already aware there wouldn’t be any new messages from the alpha.

The three unanswered messages in their chat mocked Regulus.

Barty peeked over his shoulder. “Still no answer?”

“Still no answer,” he confirmed.

“Maybe he’s on vacation or busy with school. You said he’s our age, right?”

Regulus sighed and played with his rings, “Maybe. But the account isn’t paused. Last summer, when he went on vacation with his family, he paused his profile so you couldn’t order clothes when he wasn’t home to send them.”

“So you can still order from him?” Barty asked, scratching his faded pink head and stretching his long limbs.

“Yeah, but that’s mortifying,” Regulus scoffed. Triple-texting Ciervo was bad enough. Usually, even a double-text would show too much vulnerability.

Barty shrugged and threw a bag of sour candy into his bag. “Uh, who cares? It’s a business. It’s childish for him to ignore you, so you’re allowed to act childish back. Order some shit from him so he literally has to pay attention to you.”

“Huh.” Regulus froze. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Mhm, that’s why they pay me the big bucks,” Barty said with a dramatic flick of the green hat’s bell.

Regulus held back an eye-roll, but Barty’s comment had his brain spinning. Embarrassment, anger, and shame swirled within him, but he had always been prone to biting back.

What else was the inheritance he got from his awful parents good for anyway? He was on a merit-based ballet scholarship, and he preferred to live with Barty rather than alone. Sure, Regulus had a penchant for the nicer things in life, luxury apparel and homeware in rich fabrics, and candlelit, aesthetic dinners. But he had more than enough money to pay for his comfortable lifestyle and to rent a few measly sweaters from Ciervo.

He checked the app. The alpha had ten items that were still available to rent on his storefront.

No one got away with ignoring Regulus Black.

With a smirk, Regulus ordered them all.

⭐️☁️💫

Sirius was perched on the fitting room’s velvet couch like a king on his throne. He scanned Regulus’s form and gestured to the salesperson waiting in the corner, hands behind their back. “Can you bring out the navy, please?” He took a sip from his flute of champagne before turning his attention back to his brother. “You’re so pale that the greige is washing you out.”

“Thanks.” Regulus stripped off the suede jacket and handed it to another attendant. The worker promptly disappeared behind a curtain, leaving Sirius and Regulus momentarily alone.

“Shall we address the elephant in the room, Reggie?” Sirius asked, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

Regulus tutted and tilted his head, shiny black curls brushing his ear, “Psh, just because you gained a few pounds doesn’t mean you should start calling yourself names.”

Sirius’s smile was sickly sweet. His long pointer finger traced a line of condensation trailing down his chilled glass. “Thanks for your concern, dear brother. But I was, of course, referring to the Blind Compatibility Quiz. I’m sure you simply forgot to tell me. It’s all I’ve been hearing about for the last month, but my favorite omega hasn’t mentioned it at all.”

“What about it?” Regulus asked, pulling the bottle from the ice bucket to fill his own flute.

The salesperson announced their presence before hanging navy and black options on the clothing rack. “Did you need anything else, sir?”

Sirius shook his head. “No, this is perfect for now. Thank you.”

When they were alone again, Regulus pulled on a supple black jacket. He stood before the mirror, posing to observe the different angles. The brothers made eye contact in the mirror and communicated silently. Should I buy this jacket?

Sirius tilted his chin and narrowed his eyes. Regulus hummed, pulling it off and placing it neatly in the reject pile.

“Well? Tell me everything,” Sirius asked, resting back on his elbows. “Did you find your soulmate?”

“Ha.” Regulus pulled the navy jacket off the rack. “Not likely.”

“Have you met?”

“We’ve barely spoken,” Regulus said as if that should be obvious.

The pleading eye contact Sirius made was authentic, even if his pout was practiced. This was the side of his brother he couldn’t resist. Behind the false, hardened shells they’d grown as children, there was a real connection between them.

“He’s a 20-year old alpha student who lives in the city and seems basic,” Regulus offered. He cocked his head in the mirror and Sirius pursed his lips, studying the shape of the jacket. Regulus spun slowly. Sirius nodded and Regulus added it to the large purchase pile.

“Is that why you don’t sound interested? It’s your soulmate.”

Regulus shrugged and took a seat on the couch. “I don’t really know,” he said quietly.

“Basic is easy enough to deal with. When I first met Moony, he always wore the saddest clothes. Just big sleep shirts and sweatpants, like he was coming from the gym.”

“He’s a dancer, he probably was coming from practice,” Regulus snorted. “Oh! Wait.”

Pulling out his phone, Regulus scrolled to his conversation with Pandora and the video she had shared. “This is him right?”

Oh, my Moony! How did you get this?” Sirius asked and took the phone, the dopiest, lovesick expression transforming his face.

“The redheaded dancer sent it to my friend. They got matched through that stupid test.”

“No way,” Sirius said, letting the video play. “I know her. That’s Lily. As a matter of fact, I’m costuming this performance for them.”

“Small world,” Regulus said quietly. Feeling too aware that there was a lot of Sirius’s world that he wasn’t part of.

The video ended with a close up of the videographer’s face as he ended the recording. He was exactly Regulus’s type. Regulus had never gotten this far into the video before. The man was a striking combination of messy dark brown waves,  deeply tan skin, and dusky, full lips. Out of nowhere, Regulus was struck with the thought that they looked obscenely kissable.

Perhaps he would ask Pandora if she could connect them. His eyes lingered on the videographer’s face, cataloguing his dimple, the freckle above his lip, his pierced ear. Yes, one night with him would fix Regulus right up.

“And there’s James, of course.”

Regulus almost choked on his champagne. “James?”

“Yeah, he’s a video major.”

“James Potter?”

Sirius nodded, beginning to look confused. The salesperson came back in through the curtains, and Sirius directed them to take the pile of clothes Regulus wanted. Regulus couldn’t drop it as they walked to the register at the front of the store.

“James Potter as in your surrogate “brother,” can’t-go-five-minutes-without-bringing-him-up, so-far-up-your-ass-he’s-basically-your-prostate, James Potter?” Regulus asked, unable to avoid the jealousy he’d associated with the boy since they had become school roommates.

“Holy shit, I’m telling him you said that,” Sirius cackled. “Why the hell is that so shocking to you?”

Regulus sounded outraged when he said, “Everything you droned on about him, and you neglected to mention he looks like THAT?”

"Oh, va te faire foutre!" Sirius’s smile dropped like a brick. He swatted Regulus's arm. “Don’t even think about it.”

Regulus grinned, tapping his phone on the card reader as the workers stuffed tissue paper in his bags. “I want him.”

“What? Where’s this coming from? I thought you hated him. You’ve always said no every time I’ve invited you to hang out with us.”

Regulus’s shrug was more calculating than nonchalant. “I‘ve changed my mind. He’s delicious.”

“No way. There’s no way in hell.”

“Why not? Is he in a serious relationship?” Regulus asked. Sirius grimaced and shook his head.

“Straight?” Regulus asked.

“Pan.” Sirius shook his head again.

“Then what? Would he not be interested in me specifically?” Regulus asked, cold seeping into his tone.

“Oh, that’s definitely not it. I mean, he wouldn’t know what to do with you, but I’m sure he would be more than interested,” Sirius scoffed, helping Regulus collect the large paper shopping bags from the countertop.

“Then, what’s the problem?” Regulus asked as they left the store, walking on dark cobblestone streets.

“The problem is that you would absolutely destroy him, Regulus.”

Before Regulus could respond, his phone pinged loudly. There was only one app he had set the notifications to alert him so obnoxiously.

He quickly opened the ScentSwap app and navigated to his inbox to a message that almost had him falling to his knees.

ScentSwap Order Status: SELLER REJECTED ORDER

Chapter Text

ScentSwap: You have unread messages from Etoilenoire!

Etoilenoire: Received, thanks!

Ciervo: Great! Hope you don’t think this is weird, but I added in something extra this time. I was going to throw them out, but it felt wasteful if they could help someone at all? But please feel free to throw them out if you want, I promise I will not be offended.

Etoilenoire: fuckkkkkk alpha

Sorry I didn’t respond last night. I loved your gift.

I don’t think I’ve ever finished so quickly in my life.

🎥👓🍊

Etoilenoire: hello?

🎥👓🍊

Etoilenoire: sorry if that was TMI, blame it on the omega hormones!

🎥👓🍊

*ETOILENOIRE PLACED AN ORDER*

*YOU CANCELED AN ORDER*

Etoilenoire: ??

you canceled my order?

????

Ciervo: Hey, yeah. Sorry about that.

I’m deactivating my account. I didn’t realize that I still had those old listings up.

Etoilenoire: oh

everything okay?

Ciervo: Yeah

Etoilenoire: ok…

Ciervo: I don’t really know how to say this.

It’s just not appropriate anymore.

Etoilenoire: is this about the underwear?

Ciervo: what?

Etoilenoire: are you deactivating because of what I said when you sent me those underwear? Did I cross a boundary?

Because I thought you knew what omegas were doing with the clothes they rent from you on this app. So if that was too inappropriate for you…

Ciervo: oh

OH

NO

Sorry, no! That’s not it at all.

I am so sorry I don’t ever want you to feel like you did something wrong.

It has nothing to do with you at all.

Of course I want you to use the clothes in whatever way helps you the most. That’s why I do this.

Etoilenoire: and I really really appreciate that. So why are you deactivating your account?

Ciervo: I met someone.

Etoilenoire: Ah.

Congratulations.

I completely understand why your partner wouldn’t want to share your scent.

I wouldn’t either.

Good luck to you both.

Ciervo: Well, it’s not exactly that.

To be honest, I don’t know how they’d feel about it.

Etoilenoire: What does that mean?

Ciervo: you know the blind compatibility thing alphas and omegas in a certain age range had to take?

Etoilenoire: I’m familiar with it.

Ciervo: I have a “perfect match” with an omega.

Etoilenoire: ……….

You know they all say that right?

Ciervo: what?

Etoilenoire: All those emails say “perfect match” ??

It’s not like you two had a higher score than anyone else, it’s just how they phrase the couplings.

Ciervo: …is that true?

Suddenly I feel like an idiot.

Etoilenoire: Um, yeah. Hate to break it to you.

But either way, I’m glad (and envious) you found someone you like. You deserve someone special.

Ciervo: Thanks for saying that. It really means a lot.

You don’t get along with the alpha that you matched with?

Etoilenoire: Ha. I hate him.

Ciervo: Shit. I’m so sorry to hear that.

You deserve someone special too.

I actually haven’t met the omega yet.

Etoilenoire: wait… you haven’t met them?

Ciervo: not yet, we’re still planning.

Etoilenoire: oh, but you talk a lot?

Ciervo: not really

Etoilenoire: Not really?

Ciervo: tbh, we’ve only talked a couple of times over messenger.

Etoilenoire: ??????

Ciervo: ?

Etoilenoire: you’ve only talked a couple of times over messenger?

Ciervo: yes?

Etoilenoire: But you really like them? Romantically, obviously

Ciervo: I honestly don’t know them at all yet but I hope that I will like them when we can actually have a real conversation.

Etoilenoire: and you’re deleting your account?

Ciervo: deactivating, but yes.

Etoilenoire: because they asked you to?

Ciervo: well, no. They have no idea that I do this. No one in my life does.

Etoilenoire: then why…

Ciervo: it just felt wrong, I guess

Etoilenoire: I’m sorry if this is too pushy, I’m just trying to understand.

Ciervo: I want to do the right thing by them… it’s like you said, no omega wants their alpha’s scent on another omega.

Etoilenoire: right… but they’re not your omega?

It’s not like you’re entitled to them just because you matched.

Not to be rude.

You know that, right?

Ciervo: of course I know that

I don’t feel entitled to him at all, I just wanted to be respectful.

Etoilenoire: so you don’t believe that he’ll be reasonable enough to understand that you have this account to help other omegas who haven’t been lucky enough to find an alpha for their heats?

Because you believe he will be a victim of his designation and will be irrationally jealous and possessive … just because he’s an omega?

Ciervo: NO

not at all!!

I’m just trying to be respectful of any possible situation that comes up.

Etoilenoire: Because you yourself are jealous?

If he has an alpha he orders clothes from now to help him through his heats, you want him to stop immediately, and suffer through his next heat alone. Just because he’s become aware of your existence?

It can be very painful without the right scents around your nest, you know.

So that’s not very nice.

Ciervo: I don’t want him to suffer at all!

I don’t mind if he orders clothes from someone. I want him to have whatever makes him happy, whatever he needs to feel safe!

Etoilenoire: but you’re assuming that you know what he wants and needs. A stranger…. Who might not even be single?? Who may just want to be friends??? Or less?

Ciervo: I never want to do that.

This conversation is giving me deja vu in the most embarrassing way.

Etoilenoire: then the respectful thing to do is to carry on with your life exactly how you were living it, without assuming he will be a jealous, pheromone-obsessed mess because of his designation.

Ciervo: you’re right

You’re so right

I’m sorry

Etoilenoire: why did you send me that underwear? Be honest.

Ciervo: you’re my favorite customer and I like talking to you

Etoilenoire: is that all?

Ciervo: we’re friends right?

Etoilenoire: do you send your used underwear to all your omega friends to help them through their heats?

Ciervo: can you imagine?

Etoilenoire: please tell me if I’m misreading the situation here but i thought you sent them because you were flirting with me

Ciervo: direct shot through the heart

But yes, I didn’t think it through all the way, or do it intentionally, but I was probably trying to flirt with you

I’m sorry for mucking everything up

And being confusing

Leading you on

And going back and forth

And for flirting with you and then disappearing

Etoilenoire: you wanna make it up to me?

Ciervo: desperately

Etoilenoire: then keep flirting with me, alpha

*ETOILENOIRE PLACED AN ORDER*

Etoilenoire: I want free next day shipping. I’m already in goddamn preheat and someone canceled my other order.

Let’s call it a fair trade for the “how to be an ally to an omega” therapy session.

🎥👓🍊

Ciervo: Shipped the package last night, so be on the lookout for it today.

I’m sorry again for being a dumbass…

Thank you for explaining everything to me yesterday.

I hope your heat is manageable.

Etoilenoire: mmmmmm

I got it

More underwear???

Naughty boy

Ciervo: haha, yeah well… I figured I owed you. Is that okay or does it make me a hypocrite?

Etoilenoire: smells rly goooood

Ciervo: yeah?

Etoilenoire: want them in my mouth

Ciervo: fuck

You’re in heat

Etoilenoire: ya almost

Ciervo: alone?

Shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed that.

None of my business

Etoilenoire: I’m not alone

Ciervo: oh my god

SORRY

SORRY

SORRY

Etoilenoire: spend every heat with you

Ciervo: What?

Etoilenoire: All ur clothes around me

Ur scent around me

can I tell you a secret

Ciervo: oh wow. yes

Etoilenoire: I kept some of the stuff u sent 

And never returned it

Ciervo: uh, that’s not a secret, love

Etoilenoire: you knew?????

Ciervo: Of course I knew??

Etoilenoire: but u didn’t say anything 

Ciervo: I don’t mind

I want you to have that stuff if you want it

Etoilenoire: even though you know what I’m doing with it?

Ciervo: I mean, I don’t really know what you’re doing with it, but I can assume

Etoilenoire: take whatever you’re assuming rn and double it

Ciervo: oh fuck

Etoilenoire: Want me to explain in detail?

Ciervo: we shouldn’t do this

Etoilenoire: bc of yesterday?

Ciervo: yeah

Etoilenoire: Why not? Because of your stranger????

I have a stranger too

It doesn’t matter

“Of course I want you to use the clothes in whatever way helps you the most”

That’s what u said. Was it a lie?

You don’t wanna help me feel better, alpha??

Ciervo: NO, I do want you to feel better

You’re right 

They’re a stranger

And you’re not. Sorry I’m not great with omegas.

Etoilenoire: pls don’t lead me on again. This omega needs u rn.

it only feels okay with your clothes around me

Only thing missing in my nest is u

Best thing I’ve ever smelled

Ciervo: really?

Etoilenoire: yes alpha

Ciervo: fuckk, I bet you smell amazing

Etoilenoire: don’t say that

Ciervo: why?

Etoilenoire: just don’t

it’s not true

Ciervo: can I tell you a secret?

Etoilenoire: pls

Ciervo: every single time you send me back my clothes

I smell them, hoping there’s even the tiniest hint of your scent left on them

Fucking huff them

Every damn time

But there never is

Etoilenoire: dry cleaning

Ciervo: as much as I appreciate that,

I would much rather be able to scent you

Etoilenoire: why

Ciervo: curiosity

Etoilenoire: oh

Ciervo: and it would make my ruts easier

I need to know

It would be so much easier to help me picture the person I always think about

Etoilenoire: omgf

Omfg*

Sorry hard to type

With one hand

Ciervo: ! are we really doing this?

Etoilenoire: need you

Ciervo: you don’t know how badly I want to see what you’re doing right now

Wish I was there taking care of you

Etoilenoire: me too

Ciervo: are you wet?

Etoilenoire: yeahhhh

Ciervo: tell me

Etoilenoire: I made so much slick for you 

All over everything

Soaking ur clothes

Touch myself thinking about you

Wanting you

Ciervo: I would make you feel so good if i was there

Etoilenoire: starting to hurt without u

Empty

Ciervo: how many times have you come already? do you use toys or your fingers?

Etoilenoire: 3 both 

Ciervo: that’s so hot

I want you to make yourself come for me

Etoilenoire: help

Ciervo: do you have a knotting dildo

Etoilenoire: yeah

Ciervo: go get it, that’s my cock baby

Okay?

Are you touching yours?

Etoilenoire: mhm feels good

Ciervo: so good for me, omega

I want you to tilt the phone up so you can see my messages

You’re gonna need both hands

Get on your knees

And spread your legs

Is that okay?

Etoilenoire: yes alpha

Spreading my legs as wide as I can for u

Presenting for u

Dripping wet and ready for u

Ciervo: fuck

As you’re jerking off

Line the dildo up underneath you

But don’t sit down on it yet

Just rest against it

So it’s teasing your hole

Use your thigh muscles to stay upright

But let the very tip of the dildo go in and out of you just the tiniest bit as you’re fucking into your hand, okay?

Etoilenoire: wanna sit on it 

Ciervo: I know but can you please do this for me

Because if I was there with you, I wouldn’t be able to resist teasing you

Etoilenoire: mean alpha

Ciervo: the moment you’re about to come, when it feels so good that you can’t hold it back anymore

I want you to plunge down on it and take my cock all the way

Etoilenoire: mmm nice alpha okay

*ETOILENOIRE SENT A PHOTO*

Ciervo: fuckkkkkkkkkkk

That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen

My briefs sliding up against that pretty dripping cock of yours

It’s funny but I remember them being a different color… which means you made all that slick for me love?

Etoilenoire: u like?

Ciervo: oh I love it more than you can ever know

I want to lick it up your thighs

Suck it out of your hole

Eat you out for days until I forget any taste but yours

Etoilenoire: feels too good

Ciervo: You’re gonna come baby? Come for me. Sit down on my fucking cock when you come and take me in one go. Tell me how it feels around you when it knots

Etoilenoire: fuck yes sooooooo goooooood

Ciervo: good fucking omega

Let that shit fill you up. I want to drink your come. Need to taste it more than I’ve ever wanted anything rn. I’ve almost asked you for a selfie so many times

SO many times

I was picturing your face but I can already tell you’re fucking beautiful from that insane body

More beautiful than I could have ever imagined

Your body is the perfect size

I could pick you up with both hands around your slutty little waist

Drop you right on my dick

Just lift you and lower you forever

Until you were a satisfied mess of my come and your slick and fucked out and perfectly exhausted from orgasming

I would give anything to have you that way

Etoilenoire: hi

Ciervo: hi love

Did you finish?

Is my knot in you?

Does it feel good? Are you full?

Etoilenoire: ya so full

Wishhh u were here

Ciervo: me too

More than anything.

You did such an amazing job. Such a good omega.

Can you drink some water for me please?

Etoilenoire: ok

Ciervo: thank you, sweetheart

Etoilenoire: will u talk to me my whole heat

Pls

Ciervo: yes

I’m here

Chapter Text

Waiting outside of his advisor's office, James’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Again. And again. And again.

Just the reminder of the messages he was getting on the ScentSwap app had his cheeks heating. He shoved his phone deep into his messenger bag so as not to risk getting a boner during his advisor meeting. God, he couldn’t even let his mind drift to that conversation without feeling it in his groin.

He’d been hard for what felt like ages, and his bedspread had seen unspeakable things over the last day. The anonymous omega who had been ordering scented clothes from him all year was in heat. And James didn’t need to know what the omega’s face looked like to know he was criminally hot.

It was embedded in the way he wrote, thanking James so sweetly after every purchase.

It was in the way he wasn’t ashamed to demand that James give him attention, despite his initial hesitance toward getting to know the man.

And it was definitely in the way he sent James selfies so dirty that James had been picturing that lean body flushed and writhing on his cock for the last 24 hours.

James wanted to lick the slick from his thighs and pound into that hot fucking man until he was a pleading mess.

Well, at least he could dream.

The hallway of the film department was busy at 9 a.m. as students, professors, and administrative staff rushed by with stacks of paperwork. The bright lights above mixed with the bustling crowd were overwhelming, and James couldn’t wait to go home and get back in his bed.

It had crossed his mind to cancel his meeting today and spend all day in bed messaging the omega. Leaving an omega who was in heat alone was a shitty thing to do. It just felt wrong.

In the back of James’s primal brain, his alpha instincts were rioting. Protecting, sating, and soothing his omega was all he wanted to do. But that in itself was the problem. His alpha didn’t understand that this wasn’t their omega.

As much as he’d wanted to spend the entirety of his heat talking to Etoilenoire, it was a bad idea. A recipe for disaster, really, James thought. His own feelings and misplaced hopes were irrelevant. This was about making an omega happy.

They weren’t dating. This wasn’t even a situationship; it was barely a talking stage. And James needed to do his best to remember that before either one of them got attached. This was just two horny people with mutual interests—satisfying a natural urge. Etoilenoire knew that. Knew James was planning on meeting up with his soulmate from the Blind Compatibility Quiz anyway, so this couldn’t be a real thing.

The other night, James recognized that the omega was arguing over ScentSwap with one goal in mind: Get James to talk him through his heat. And James was happy to oblige. Even when he felt he was being played by the omega during their talk, any doubts he’d had were swallowed by the overwhelming intoxication of being wanted so badly by someone.

James wasn’t under the false impression that the omega wanted him outside of this. They were playing house. Etoilenoire had made it clear that omegas didn’t need alphas. And certainly no omega needed an alpha like James, even his soulmate didn’t want him.

The door in front of him swung open. “Mr. Potter?”

James scrambled to his feet, grabbing his bag. “Hi, Professor Slughorn.”

He ducked into the dark office. That was standard in the film department. James spent a lot of time in the dark, color-grading his videos. The walls were lined with degrees, entertainment industry awards, and red carpet photos of the professor posed with past students.

“Come take a seat here,” Slughorn said, patting the stool next to the dual curved monitors. The footage James had submitted of Remus and Lily’s rehearsal was already pulled up on the screen.  James murmured his thanks and took a seat, feeling too large for the chair.

“It’s nice to see you. How’s your semester going? Hopefully stress-free?” Slughorn asked.

I’m drowning in work, James thought. “Oh, yes! Semester’s going great so far,” James said.

Slughorn patted James on the back too hard. “Good work. That’s what I like to hear. Are you planning to submit your work to any festivals last year?”

“Do you think I should?” James asked, pushing his glasses up further on his nose.

Please say no, Jesus Christ. There’s no way I can go through that much rejection again.

“Most definitely. In this industry, professional accolades matter more than grades,” Slughorn said. “If I recall correctly, you had some trouble last year, but you’ve made strides since then. How many festivals did you apply to? Six, was it?”

“Seven.”

“Right, well, perhaps this year, try eight?” he suggested with a smile. “Are you active on social media?”

James tried to keep the helplessness he felt out of his shrug. “Sort of.”

“Well, that’s the way in today. One viral video can make a career for anyone, even someone who doesn’t have family connections,” Slughorn said, pleased at the excellent advice he had given James. He pressed the spacebar, and the video began to play. “You know my former student has over two million followers…”

Why are my parents paying for me to go to college if I can only be successful by posting online?

James nodded and forced a smile, turning his head to the screen, aware he had neither connections nor social media followers.

Maybe he could ask Lily for tips. Even though it would be mortifying. It had been awkward enough being in the same room as her when he filmed this rehearsal.

The dancing content James had filmed for Lily when they were together had gotten a lot of attention. Since then, she’d started getting brand deals and invitations to dance industry influencer events.

The problem was that James just couldn’t seem to get any views on his own videos. Truthfully, James was a little envious. Even though he knew logically that Lily having followers didn’t take away from his potential to have followers. Plus, James’s pride was still a bit wounded from the breakup, not that you could even call it a breakup. More than that, James knew that he needed to be ambitious enough to get over those emotions to find success. Dancing apps were big right now; it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t do a pirouette.

“…but dance is key!”

James only caught the end of the old man’s words. He nodded vigorously, offering a practiced grin, “Oh, I agree, sir!”

“Excellent! So you’ll need to focus on capturing the dance majors for the rest of the year. I believe there’s a competition in a few months with some of the other schools in the area. Will your final project be this couple? Or do you have someone else in mind?” He pointed to Remus and Lily, paused in each other’s arms.

Shit.

“Um? I’m not sure yet.”

Kill me now.

Fifteen minutes later, James stumbled out of Professor Slughorn’s office still grinning and nodding, agreeing with every braggadocious comment the man made. All James knew at that point was that somehow his advisor had convinced him to spend his junior year capturing dance content in order to have his thesis project go viral. So basically, James would have to do the impossible. And that started off with finding a dancer who actually wanted to spend time with him.

Classes had begun for the day, and the hallway had calmed down significantly in the last half hour. James wandered out of the administrative building and paused under the awning. The snow hadn’t let up in days, blanketing the world in pure white. He leaned against the wall, covered from the icy weather.

His mind flashed to his soulmate’s sparse profile on the Blind Compatibility Quiz. Perhaps there was one other dancer he knew. Someone who might want to spend time with him.

James withdrew his phone from his bag. The screen was a wall of notifications from the ScentSwap app. James pushed down the sharp claws of guilt that were slashing the walls of his stomach. He ignored the pulsing, whining alpha instinct in the back of his brain that an omega (who wasn’t even going to be his for more than a few days) wanted him.

He pulled up his email and navigated to RAB’s contact. He suppressed a sigh at the thought of the other omega who made him feel pathetically unworthy.

BLIND COMPATIBILITY MESSENGER

JFP: New date idea. You’re a dancer, right? I have a proposition for you.

Chapter Text

Regulus woke up crusted to the sheets of his nest. With a shiver, he raised himself up on his arms. His hips cracked as he sat up, body aching and head foggy in post-heat delirium.

He grabbed the bottle from his windowsill and chugged. Water sluiced down his chin to where he wore Ciervo’s rented t-shirt around his neck and through one arm. That easy access meant it stayed close to his nose when his other hand was preoccupied.

Loud clanging from the kitchen caught his attention and the scent of toast wafted in.

Barty must have come home at some point when Regulus was out of it. The only thing Regulus missed from his childhood was their family butler’s cooking. Regulus felt he would actually murder someone in cold blood for a bowl of Mr. Kreacher’s soupe à l'oignon gratinée today.

Regulus searched under the stained sheets, crumpled apparel, and blankets until he found his phone. Dead.

He could relate. His thighs burned. There was a crick in his neck. Every inch of his body was sore and a sharp pain reminded him how he had abused his bottom with every movement. 

Maybe it was a good thing that his phone had died. Regulus vaguely remembered convincing, and perhaps lightly bullying, Ciervo into keeping him company during his heat. He knew that the alpha had texted him pretty consistently. Not as much as the needy omega he was in his heat desired, but consistently enough that he didn’t feel abandoned.

He took care of me.

Regulus remembered the last conversation they’d had when he was mostly lucid. Ciervo had mentioned another omega. Multiple times. Regulus’s chest burned with the thought.

Yes, he took care of me, but it’s not like he really wanted to.

“I’m an asshole,” Regulus murmured and resisted falling back into bed and staying there for the rest of the day.

Whatever. Whether or not Ciervo had initially wanted to sext with him was none of Regulus’s business. The fact of the matter was that in the end, they had. Repeatedly. On and off for two and a half days. And it was fucking hot.

Deciding if he should feel guilty about whatever happened with Ciervo could wait until he’d eaten.

Reality blurred as he stepped out of bed. Regulus paused, steadying his hand on his bed and focusing on breathing until the nausea subsided. He carefully pulled Ciervo’s shirt off and tucked it into a plastic bag in his closet to preserve whatever was left of the alpha’s scent. He would have to inspect it later when he had more energy.

Regulus chose pajamas out of his closet, a matching black silk set with shorts and a collared sleep shirt. He nudged on a pair of fuzzy slippers and followed the breakfast smells.

“Well, look who it is,” Barty said, leaning against the kitchen counter. He was shirtless in navy track pants with bare feet. His spiky pink hair was a mess and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Can I have one of those?” Regulus croaked, throat rusty from disuse.

Barty grabbed another mug and started on Regulus’s tea. “How are you feeling? How was the heat?”

“Bad,” Regulus grumbled and slumped into a seat at the table. “What about yours? How’s Evan?”

“Insane.” Barty handed him the mug with a dopey grin. “I’m in love.”

“His dick was that good?” Regulus took a sip and then leaned into the tea, closing his eyes and letting the steamy heat soothe his tired face.

“Well, yeah. But it’s not just his dick, although I'm in love with that too.” Barty ignored the open chairs and hopped onto the countertop with his own drink. “Dude, do you even know how much easier it is to get through a fucking heat with a real knot?”

“You know I don’t.” He ignored the irrational tick of anger in the back of his mind that question caused. He took a sip of his tea. Soothing, spiced Rooibos. Barty was perpetually annoying but at least he made a good cup of tea.

Regulus didn’t have to look up to picture Barty’s smug expression when he said, “I don’t even think it’s fair to tell you, to be honest. Because you can’t miss what you’ve never had and after the real thing, it’d be impossible to go back to silicone. The alpha body heat soothes the cramps like nothing else. I feel right as rain today, in fighting shape.”

“So, what? Are you exclusive now? You’re dating?” Regulus asked, praying he sounded tired enough that it masked any other emotions in his voice.

But apparently, it didn’t.

Barty cooed, hopping off the counter to wrap his long arms around Regulus. “Aw, Reg. Are you worried I won’t be around to get you off during your heat anymore? Are you gonna miss me?”

“Oh, fuck off, that was one time,” Regulus said, pushing his arms away. “I’m just asking.”

Regulus popped another slice of bread in the toaster, then pulled a can of vegetable soup out of the cabinet and poured it into a pot on the stove. Mr. Kreacher would keel over if he knew Regulus was resorting to eating canned goods, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“One time?” Barty laughed. “Does spending your heat alone affect your memory now?”

Regulus ignored him. He set the heat to medium, grabbed a wooden spoon, and stirred.

“I wouldn’t know. Because I have an alpha to spend it with,” Barty teased.

“Congratulations. I’m very happy for you. Stir this, I’ll be right back.” With a sigh, Regulus went back into his room to see if his phone had turned on. A barrage of notifications filled the screen, white box after white box. He clicked on the first one.

BLIND COMPATIBILITY MESSENGER

JFP: New date idea. You’re a dancer, right? I have a proposition for you.

Pathetic. Another misguided attempt to get to know him and pique his interest. The alpha was probably going to request a lap dance or private performance, or something else that was equally annoying. Regulus wasn’t going to risk asking. He swiped out of the app without replying, ignoring the chill that sped up his spine.

He checked the ScentSwap app but there was nothing there. The lack of response from Ciervo made Regulus feel like he’d swallowed a brick.

The last nine messages were all sent from a heat-high Regulus in the middle of the night. Ciervo was definitely asleep. He checked if he could unsend them if they hadn’t been seen yet, but there wasn’t an opinion.

Oh god, when did he send Ciervo this photo of his stomach covered in streaks of come?

Regulus was so mortified that he immediately dropped his phone on the covers. He held back a whine and covered his eyes with the palms of his hands.

He hates me. If he didn’t before, he does now.

I’m so embarrassing.

This is not the way to get your crush to like you.

Should I deactivate my account? Is that worse? Never talking to him again seems like a good punishment.

“Reg, soup’s ready!” Barty called from the kitchen.

“Fuck, okay,” Regulus said too quietly for Barty to hear, and risked another glance at the offending screen.

Heart racing, Regulus quickly went into his settings and deactivated the ScentSwap app.

There, now he’ll never see those messages. I can just forget about him and he can be with the omega he matched with through the Blind Compatibility Quiz, like he wanted in the first place.

Regulus already had the return labels to send Ciervo these clothes back. He would just get them dry cleaned once they stopped smelling like the alpha and send them back without contacting him.

His breathing felt too heavy for his chest. Everything would be fine. It’s not like they would ever meet.

Regulus went back into the kitchen where Barty had already poured his soup into a bowl on the table. Chunks of green beans, carrots, and potatoes floated in a deep red broth.

A muffled conversation from Barty’s room let Regulus know he was on the phone. Probably with Evan. His perfect alpha.

Ugh.

Regulus started eating but his mind was elsewhere, painfully honed in on a certain less-perfect alpha.

Ciervo obviously didn’t think of omegas as equals anyway. He wasn’t a good match for someone like Regulus. Someone who felt like such a bad omega. He needed someone more understanding, someone more patient, who already liked him for who he was before they found out about his designation—and his scent.

That was the main thing.

After his parents passed away, Regulus was ashamed to say he had mixed feelings on the matter.

It was complicated. They treated him and his brother horribly, just like they treated everyone else. Family wasn’t an exception to that rule. But he’d still mourned them in a way, mourned the loss of a future, fixed relationship he could never have. Mourned the loss of the possibility that things would eventually get better.

Not that it had ever been a realistic outcome, but children can’t help but dream.

It was the same way he’d dreamed of a happier family when they were alive. Before Sirius had left, deciding there was no hope, he was over it all, including Regulus.

Their mother was worse to Sirius than Regulus, because Sirius was older. But Sirius was a beta. He had a healthier, steadier constitution.

It wasn’t until Regulus had first presented as an omega that she turned her aggression equally to Regulus. Because there was something wrong with him. His scent was wrong, a toxic note of something noxious and bitter.

He distinctly remembered the way she would scream that no respectable alpha would ever want to be with him because he was defective. Reminded him until he believed it. She’d lock him in his room and force him to write “I am a bad omega” hundreds of times on lined paper, then hand it in to her like an essay once his hands went from cramped to numb.

He shook the memories away and put his bowl, spoon, and pot in the dishwasher. Regulus was always emotional after his heats. He felt raw, like a nerve exposed to cold wind.

Thankfully, Regulus had come up with coping mechanisms. Even though ballet had originally been Walburga’s idea, it was all his own now. She had tried to sculpt him into a stereotype, but in doing so, unknowingly gave him a safe haven to release unhealthy feelings and turn them into an endorphin release.

The studio was waiting. The studio would fix him.

The citywide dance competition was coming up and he hadn’t rehearsed yet. His professors had approved it because he was consistent and reliable.

All he’d decided on was that he was doing a solo to a classical piece. Maybe Tchaikovsky. It was enmeshed in his joints and muscles to move to music like that: Strict and regimented.

The type of ballet he’d been dancing his entire young life.

The type of piece that would convince the audience he was a picture-perfect ideal omega.

The type of music that would definitely help him place in the competition.

The type of performance that, unfortunately, his mother would have been proud of.

Chapter Text

“A little to the left,” Sirius said, lazily waving a hand from the couch. James lowered one side of the heavy painting as Remus raised the other. They looked back at Sirius, who tilted his head. Knitting needles held his messy bun together. “That’s perfect.”

James couldn’t help but notice how the muscles under Remus’s armpit rippled with the movement. He had no doubt Sirius picked out Remus’s outfit today, knowing the long openings of his cutoff tank would offer a generous view.

James took a few steps back and wiped his sweaty hands on his black jeans. Remus was already halfway to the mountain of cardboard boxes in the hallway.

“James, you’re probably good to go,” Sirius said as Remus carried a lamp into the living room. “The rest is mostly clothes.”

“Thanks for your help,” Remus said and handed him a glass of water.

“You guys sure?” James asked, plopping down in an armchair. His muscles ached from moving Sirius into Remus’s three-story walkup all morning. “I don’t have anything going on for the rest of the day.”

His apartment was going to feel lonely without Sirius there. He didn’t know what he would do with the extra bedroom, maybe turn it into a guest room for when his parents visited? They owned the apartment, so it made sense, but they didn’t come to the city that often anymore.

“You’re volunteering for more manual labor? If I knew you wanted to spend this much time together, maybe I would have reconsidered moving out,” Sirius teased.

Remus made a disapproving sound, and Sirius dragged him down to the couch. “Wait, let me finish this first and then shower. I shouldn’t sit, I’m too sweaty,” Remus protested.

“Mmm. Yes, you are, daddy,” Sirius purred, licking a stripe from Remus’s glistening arm to shoulder. Sirius tightened his grip and raised a suggestive eyebrow, bringing a smirk to Remus’s mouth.

"Oh, christ." James shot up. He would find something else to do today. A happy couple was the last thing he wanted to see today. “Nevermind. I’m so happy you moved out. I’ll be on my way.”

Sirius laughed. “We’ll see you tomorrow anyway, come around nine.”

“I don’t know if I’m really up for a party right now,” James said, slipping on his red puffer jacket. He pulled thick wool gloves and a beanie out of the pockets. “Um, but I’ll try to make it.”

“Is it because Lily’s coming?” Remus asked.

James shook his head, “No, no. We’re totally fine.”

Not that it was exactly a selling point.

“Don’t tell me you’re having more omega problems,” Sirius said. “Is it that compatibility thing again?”

Remus choked on his water. They looked over. He raised a hand, croaking, “I’m fine.”

“It’s not him,” James admitted. “It’s someone else. A different guy.”

“But still another omega?” Sirius asked.

He nodded. Sirius gave him a look. “For someone who hasn't even dated an omega, this is getting ridiculous. Have you ever considered thinking beyond your designation?”

James pulled on his hat and repositioned his glasses. He already knew the minute he stepped out of this warm apartment into the icy street, they would fog up.

“It’s not that simple,” he said, aware that it was a weak argument.

This morning, James realized that Etoilenoire had blocked him on ScentSwap. Or deleted his account. Whatever it was, it had put him in a pissy mood he hadn’t been able to get out of all day. He felt like a scumbag. Part of him was relieved that Etoilenoire was mad at him and realized James was a bad alpha.

It would have felt worse if James had broken things off with someone so innocent that they didn’t realize that James was unavailable. James never should have led him on, but at his core, he knew he was selfish. And if given the same opportunity? James would make the same decision.

Etoilenoire was gracious enough to end whatever they were without a fight, and James was grateful to avoid the confrontation.

Maybe he did deserve to be alone. An omega finally wanted him, and he couldn’t commit. Why? Because he felt some strange sense of chivalrous duty to RAB? Someone who a compatibility algorithm determined would be his perfect match? Someone who obviously didn’t want anything to do with him? James felt his face heat in embarrassment, remembering the unanswered message he’d last sent him asking the omega about his dance career.

Sirius hopped off the couch and wrapped his arms around James. James collapsed into the hug. Sirius always gave the best hugs.

“Look, just come to the housewarming party tomorrow. You clearly need to let loose and get out of your head. We already decided everyone coming has to wear scent blockers because I’m not risking two alphas getting into a fist fight like at my birthday. We ordered a ton of dampening spray in case you don’t have any at home. This is your opportunity to make connections with new people without your hormones getting involved.”

James straightened out of the hug. “Alright, alright. I’ll come.”

Sirius grinned. “You won’t regret it.”

🎥👓🍊

James should never have agreed to go to Sirius’s housewarming party. He gripped the handle of his tote, heavy with a massive bottle of silver tequila, and stared up at their apartment building.

The blistering cold wind bit the tip of his nose, but it was less uncomfortable than going inside. White left his mouth as he let out a breath. The shots he’d taken at home before leaving did nothing to warm him or to quell his anxiety about the party.

He didn’t feel like putting on a performance for his acquaintances tonight. Everyone was expecting James Potter: likable, easygoing, and a friend to all.

And the people who actually knew him? Sirius and Remus would be busy hosting. There was Lily. But after Lily had really gotten to know him, she didn’t want him anymore, which felt worse.

James pulled the aerosol can of scent-dampening spray out of the bag and gave himself another once-over. That was the fourth time. Surely the warm, spicy orange blossom scent of his pheromones was hidden by now. It felt odd that something he so intimately associated with his designation was missing. In a way, he felt disconnected from his identity, but it wasn’t freeing. One of the biggest pieces of evidence that he used to rationalize to himself that he was alpha enough was gone.

Without his scent, strangers wouldn’t respect his dominance.

James shook away the stupid thought. It appeared his alpha hindbrain wasn’t happy with the lack of scent either.

James steeled himself, buzzed their apartment number, and headed inside.

Remus opened the door, face flushed red. He pulled James into a hug. He spoke loudly over the bumping music. “Hey. Glad you made it.”

“Hey,” James said, thrusting the tequila at him. “This is for you guys.”

He took it. “Thanks. You can put your coat on this rack. Cans of scent spray are in this bucket.” He gestured to a wire trash can full of products. “Afraid it’s mandatory. Padfoot's orders.”

James shrugged off his coat, hat, gloves, and scarf before spraying himself down for the fifth time. “How’s that?”

Remus gave him a silent thumbs-up and held the door open for James. Their apartment was darker than the last time he’d seen it, and they were fully moved in. The living room was packed with people dancing. Through an open bedroom door, he noticed mood lighting and candles lit corners where people talked.

James looked around, surprised he didn’t recognize a single person, and followed Remus into the crowded kitchen. “Are these all GSVA students?”

“Some, but not all.” Remus put the tequila in the freezer and gestured to the bar, which held plastic cups and ice. “A few dancers I’ve done competitions with from Salazar, random friends of Pads or mine from going out in the city...”

“Oh,” James poured a drink, not quite believing that Sirius supposedly had so many friends James didn’t know. He winced at his first sip of the strong drink and scanned the room until he found Sirius, sitting on the arm of the sofa, talking to one of the prettiest men James had ever seen.

James knew he was staring, but he couldn’t look away from the young man. Dark, shiny curls contrasted pale skin. His face was angular but delicate, like a prince. A structured, expensive-looking jacket hung off his petite form like a model. He must have been one of Sirius’s friends from the fashion design major. They had the same tasteful aesthetic that had always eluded James. Something money couldn't buy.

“Thanks again for coming,” Remus said, snapping James out of his trance. Remus held up two frosty shot glasses with clear alcohol.

“Cheers.” James grabbed one and threw it back, enjoying the burn in his throat.

“Are we taking shots?” a familiar voice asked from behind him. He spun around to ginger curls.

“Oh, hey,” James said, forcing a tight smile to loosen.

Lily pulled him into a hug. He braced for her scent, but relaxed when he realized it wasn’t coming. Maybe there was something to this dampening idea.

“Pandora, this is Remus and James. Remus and James, this is Pandora,” Lily said, gesturing to the short blonde next to her.

“Hi,” Pandora said with a little wave. “Nice to meet you both.”

“You too, thanks for coming,” Remus said as he and Lily started preparing four more shots.

James waited for a jealous feeling to stir in his chest, but none came. Her placid expression was calming and nonjudgmental. He felt his shoulders lower. “Hi, Pandora. Nice to meet you, too.”

“Here, love. This one’s for you.” More gently than he had ever seen, Lily pushed a half-poured shot glass into Pandora’s hand, caressing her skin with her thumb.

Pandora leaned, kissed her on the cheek, and whispered, “Thanks.”

“Cheers!” When James raised the shot glass to his mouth, his eyes darted to the corner of the room where Sirius and the mystery man were sitting. His heart sped up when he saw they were still there. Good.

This was exactly what he needed. To meet someone who didn’t know him, didn’t know who he was, or his reputation. Uncomplicated flirting for one night sounded perfect.

Without taking his gaze off them, he threw back the tequila. Simultaneously, the stranger caught his eye and fucking winked. The liquid got stuck in his throat, and James choked it down, coughing and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

James risked a glance back over, silently praying he’d stopped watching before James choked.

The stranger was listening to Sirius but still watching James with a mocking smile.

That was an invitation if he’d ever seen one. And James would do anything for a closer look. He made his way through the crowd, following an invisible pull.

“Hey, Pads,” James said when he reached the duo. His fingers tightened around his plastic cup.

“Hey!” Sirius slid off the couch’s arm to pull James into a hug. With an easy grin, he said, “I’m so glad you made it.”

The stranger’s already perfect posture straightened at James’s arrival. Hm, he wasn't as unaffected as his aloof expression implied. That was promising. It helped settle James’s stomach for a moment, but he liked that it still burned with interest. He enjoyed the thrilling intensity of knowing he was about to enter a risky situation.

Now, only a few inches away, James noticed the dusty blue of the stranger's jacket complemented his eyes. They were wide and grey, framed with a flurry of dark lashes and looking anywhere but at James. James was embarrassed that he even noticed something like that.

When was the last time he’d noticed someone’s eye color? Possibly never. But it was also possible he had never seen such a beautiful person in real life before.

“Of course,” James said, turning his attention toward the stranger. He stuck out his hand, privately thrilled at the prospect of being touched by this man. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m…”

Ignoring James’s extended hand, the man crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back. He tilted his head, observing James like a cat watching a mouse. James’s gaze hopelessly followed the curve of his neck up to a small dimple as the man smirked and said, “You’re James Potter.”

“Oh, yeah,” James’s arm dropped like a lead anchor. He expertly kept the disappointment out of his voice and the wobble out of his fake smile when he asked, “Have we met?”

Sirius threw one arm around James’s shoulder and the other around the stranger’s. “No, you haven’t. James, I’d like you to finally meet my little brother Regulus.”

Shit.

Chapter Text

“Your—brother? Oh!” James choked. “So pleased to meet you.”

Before James realized what was happening, Regulus had swept James into a French greeting, lightly kissing both of his cheeks and leaving them with a flush.

“Well, don’t sound so surprised or you’ll hurt my feelings.” Regulus cocked a hip and gestured to his brother. “Don’t tell me Sirius never talks about me. He can’t seem to shut up about you.”

“Of course not! That’s not it in the least,” James protested, shifting his weight between his legs, wishing he had brought the bottle of tequila with him from the kitchen. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Sirius rested a hand on James’s chest and leveled Regulus an unimpressed look.

“Don’t be like that,” Sirius said, sliding off the couch’s arm. “You’re gonna give him a heart attack, Jesus.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and made a show of observing where Sirius had taken a minute step in front of James, as if to shield him from the conversation.

“Shh, relax. He can take it,” Regulus said. With a tilt of his head, he let his lids drop and asked in a honeyed tone, “Can’t you, Potter?”

James took another sip and followed the corner of Regulus’s mouth as it tweaked up. He recognized the challenge although he was under the distinct impression he was being mocked. Heat spread across his chest.

“Fuck. Yes, please,” James said, wishing desperately that he could smell him, wanting to take Regulus’s scent into James’s body and memorize it. “I’ll take anything you want.”
Regulus smiled a real smile at that. It was the first one that James could tell didn’t have some kind of elusive double meaning, and James felt an invisible weight drop from his shoulders.

Regulus smirked, lightly placing a hand on James’s sleeve. “See? He’s perfectly fine, Siri. You’re such a mother hen.”

James instinctively leaned into the warmth of his touch. Be cool. Be cool. He resisted the urge to flex.

“So James, did you come alone tonight?” Regulus asked, the picture of calm.

“Yeah, I did,” James admitted.

“And would you like to leave alone tonight?” Regulus purred, gripping his bicep tighter.

“Um—” he stuttered.

Sirius huffed. “You’ve got a bit of drool there, mate.”

Like an idiot, James actually checked, quickly wiping his mouth with his sleeve before he realized both brothers were trying not to laugh at him. James chuckled in spite of himself. He didn’t care. Everything felt light and loose. It could have been because the alcohol was hitting his system, but it was probably because Regulus still hadn’t lifted his hand off James’s bicep.

“Pads, what’s with the blocker sprays anyway? It’s been kind of surreal not knowing anyone’s scent,” James said, missing Sirius’s subtle beta scent.

Regulus dropped an empty plastic cup. “Putain,” he muttered, bending over.

“Here, let me,” James said quickly, scooping it up and handing it to Regulus, noting the silver rings on his pretty hands.

“Merci.”

“Anyway, Reggie…” Sirius asked Regulus a series of questions about his roommate. James half-listened to the conversation, perfectly content to stand there and watch as Regulus’s hand returned to James’s arm.

He slowly moved his hand up and down the material of James’s jacket.

Oh god, it felt too good.

Suddenly there was a pause and Regulus gave James an incredulous look.

“Did you just flex?” Regulus cackled, throwing his head back.

James visibly cringed. “Uh…”

Then there were two more hands on his shoulders. Sirius spun him around and gave him a little push. “Moony’s looking for you, he was calling your name. Why don’t you go find him?”

A throaty sound escaped James. He prayed that it sounded more intelligent and rugged to Regulus than it did in his own ears.

“Right. Okay.” James jogged toward the bathroom, happy for the assist and completely head-fucked by Regulus. As he washed his hands at the sink, he caught himself whistling a tune.

Wow. So that was Regulus.

Regulus Black was—

What was he exactly?

All he knew for sure was that his head was reeling. James grabbed the towel, unable to shake off this dazed feeling.

Sure. He was prone to getting crushes. Everyone teased him for the way he fell fast and hard for a new person every week.

Maybe he was addicted to the all-consuming distracting limerence. Even if his obsessions faded just as quickly. It wasn’t that deep for him. It usually wasn’t necessarily about the person, they were more just because James liked the rush. If it wasn’t real, no one could get hurt.

But there was just something special about Regulus.

James wished everyone smelled right so he could figure out what was going on and why his inner alpha was screaming at him to pay attention to Sirius’s hot little brother.

He was desperate to know what Regulus’s scent would be telling him. Did he want James too or was he playing with him? Was he tired? Healthy? Happy?

Trying to understand the world without his most natural investigative tool was hopeless. If this was how betas felt, maybe life wasn’t as enviably simple for them as he’d thought.

Leaving the bathroom, the party was in full swing. James said hello to someone he knew from school in the bathroom line. Even though James knew that Remus hadn’t actually called for him, James chose to seek him out, eventually finding him alone on the balcony.

James slid the glass door closed, locking in the loud music and chatter. The fresh, brisk air felt good. Refreshing.

Remus glanced at him and softly smiled. “Hey.” He leaned against the brick wall of the building, with his phone pointed towards the sky.

“Hey. It’s nice out here,” James said, a shiver flowing through his body. “What are you doing?”

Remus tilted his phone up. “Taking pictures of the stars.”

James looked up. The sky was black with foggy dark gray clouds or smog. Between them was a light sprinkling of stars. Not an overwhelming amount, like he would sometimes see on vacation, but only a dusting. Typical for the city. “Huh. Nice.”

“Well, don’t sound too impressed.” Remus chuckled, continuing to snap photos.

Maybe it was the angle. James took the spot next to Remus and leaned against the wall at the same angle.

He cleaned his glasses on his shirt and looked back up to uncover whatever Remus had found. James sighed. They were still just stars from this angle, not dull exactly, but not especially bright either.

It was probably an astronomy thing. Or astrology. He wasn’t really sure. Maybe he would know the constellations in another life. Or another world. But not this one, where celestial bodies hung like decorations in a backdrop.

“I’m taking a picture for Pads,” Remus finally allowed with a small, fond smile.

James squinted. “Oh, right. Is one of these stars Sirius?”

“Should be, yeah,” Remus said. “It’s definitely out this time of year. But that’s not why I’m taking the picture. Don’t tell him I told you this, but I actually text him a photo of the sky every night.”

“That’s kind of sweet, Moony. He likes it?” James asked, blowing hot air into his palms and rubbing them against his arms, which had gone cold. He ignored the emptiness that panged in his chest.

Remus messed with the settings in the camera app, brightening the photos he’d taken. “You know how sometimes when you’re taking a photo of something in nature, your phone camera just can’t quite capture it? Like the lights are wrong, or the colors, some part of the image always turns out worse than in reality.”

“Right, it really depends on the lighting and you need a better lens,” James said, thinking back to a nature photography assignment from an editing class he took last year.

Remus shrugged. “All I know is that the moon never looks as grand, the sunset never looks as vivid, and the stars never look as bright through my phone.”

“Then why even bother sending the photos? Why not take him outside?” James asked as the gritty roughness of the wall grazed the tops of his hands and the bite of the wind reddened his ears, whipping them raw.

James swore there was a sparkle in Remus’s eyes when he said, “I mean, you know how he is. He’s a star, obviously. But it’s not only because of his name. He’s so fun, so charming, and full of life. People love to be around him and soak up his glow. He’s just so bright. Brighter than a star. And I don’t want to miss the opportunity to remind him. Like, look at the stars in the sky that can’t even compare to you.”

“Wow,” James breathed, white air puffing out with his breath.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

The sky felt bigger. The horizon felt impossibly far. The air felt empty, as if the space around the two of them was devoid of even gravity.

“You know, one of these stars is probably Regulus,” Remus said quietly.

James took a sip of his drink, his throat suddenly dry. “Yeah?”

“Should be.” Remus said. “Which do you think it is?”

“How should I know?” James asked, staring at the balcony’s railing.

Remus hummed. “Just guess.”

James huffed another steamy breath into his palms.

Even if James had made a fool of himself in front of Regulus tonight, he’d been listening to Sirius talk about his brother for a long time. Crying in the middle of the night about their family and his guilt about leaving him behind. Though, the man inside didn’t seem quite like the sensitive, shy boy that Sirius described. He was still petite, as described. James remembered that Regulus was an omega, but that wasn’t what it was that had made James assume that Sirius’s brother was weak. Whatever it was, it was clear that James’s assumption was wrong.

Distance from their parents’ home and time passed since their childhood made Sirius’s confidence grow exponentially. James assumed it was the same for Regulus.

James swallowed and looked back up. He tried harder this time to check, vision carefully studying each one before jumping to the next one. James didn’t know what he was searching for except that it must be something special. Something brilliant. Something that stood out and made his gut flip and gave him a sense of rightness to match the bold, bright man inside.

There were more stars than James had initially thought. He meticulously checked each one, until his pulse was slow and steady, his attention fully focused on the task. 

By the time James was sure he’d checked every star, he dropped his head, rolling his neck and rubbing his eyes.

“Well?” Remus asked, taking a drag of a cigarette. “Did you find him?”

“No,” James admitted as the smoke clouded the air. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning like an idiot. “He’s too bright.”

“Now you know what I mean,” Remus laughed before shooting James a conspiratorial look. “Fucking Black brothers.”

Remus’s tone caught James off guard and he joined in the laughter, letting it wash over him, like a cleanse. Once it hit, neither could stop, until both men were bent over, clutching their stomachs as tears wet their eyelashes. It was the kind of moment that only happened between close friends late at night when they were exhausted to the point of delirium.

A breeze brought the scent of patchouli across the balcony. They were still laughing when the glass door slid open and Lily popped her head out.

“Remus? Ah, James. You’re still here too?”

Remus wiped his eyes. “What’s up?”

“We’re playing a game and Sirius asked me to grab you. Come inside.”

Walking inside, the change in temperature fogged up James’s glasses. He’d been outside with Remus for hours. During that time, the party shrunk from a rager to a group of ten or so, sitting in a circle in the living room. Quiet music played and the lights were warm and low.

Regulus is still here, his brain helpfully provided, as if James could miss the limber figure laying with his head in Sirius’s lap.

Topping off his drink in the kitchen with Remus and Lily, he couldn’t help but watch Regulus stretch in the other room.

Regulus held his knee close to his chest before flexing his leg straight up. Then bending it back to lay flat across his chest, he did a split in the air, letting his shin kiss his face.

James knew if he hadn’t actually been drooling earlier, he was now. As he took a seat in the living room next to Peter, his gaze didn’t leave Regulus’s suggestive stretching routine. If he happened to take the seat directly across from him, it was no one’s business. The view closer up was even more impressive.

It was still so odd not being able to smell Peter’s nutty scent. At least Sirius hadn’t asked everyone to refresh the spray. James figured it couldn’t last much longer.

Lily organized different drinks and shot glasses into the circle.

“Reg, quit showing off or I’ll tie you in a knot and stuff you under the couch,” Sirius said, pushing him onto the carpet.

With practiced execution, Regulus rolled into an upright seat, back perfectly erect, chin raised. He was reminiscent of a royal lording over his dominion.

Pandora, the omega he’d met earlier with Lily was on Regulus’s left.

“That was really impressive,” James said, catching his eye. “Judging by your outfit, I thought you must be in fashion, like Sirius. But it seems I was missing a key piece of information.”

“Thank you. Yes, I study dance.” Regulus said. “Let me know if you’d like a more intimate performance later. I’ve been told I’m very flexible.”

That was something James needed to see for himself.

Sirius made a loud choking sound and sprawled between them. He slapped his hands into a fist and pleaded, “Lily, the game, please.”

Lily took her place in the center of the circle, feet wide and limbs akimbo. “Listen up!”

A few people giggled, including Pandora who was leaning into Regulus’s side. Lily playfully raised her eyebrow at her. Pandora mimed zipping her lips.

“The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven, but with new rules!” She held out an empty glass bottle. “If you don’t want to go in the closet, you have two options. The first option is: You can either kiss anyone in the group in front of everyone and take a shot of this mystery juice. The second option is: You each chug a full glass of the mystery juice and move on.”

“I tried it earlier and it is absolutely rank,” Peter whispered in James’s ear.

Lily continued. “Now, it doesn’t matter what you two do. Two couples go at a time. The only rules are that you’re not allowed to bring your phones and the door has to stay closed. You could sit there and debate politics, for all I care, but I highly recommend taking that option, because I’ve tried the drink, and it is pure poison!”

James wasn’t watching Lily. He was still watching Regulus, which was fortuitous. If not, he wouldn’t have noticed Regulus’s face drop at the mention of the drink tasting like poison.

He must really not want to drink it, James concluded. Maybe his stomach is sensitive. If it lands on him, I’ll be sure to take him to the closet.

“Youngest goes first.” Lily winked and handed the bottle to Regulus.

Regulus’s smile was saccharine as he passed it to Sirius. “Age before beauty.”

Sirius pouted dramatically but spun it hard on the carpet. It landed on Peter.

“You wanna go talk shit in the walk-in closet, Wormy?” Sirius asked.

“Yep. Couldn’t pay me to drink that shite.” Peter nodded.

They stood at the side of the circle and waited for the next couple to be chosen.

“Alright, oldest then,” Lily said and passed it to a person James had never met.

They spun it and it landed on Pandora.

Pandora introduced herself and shrugged, “Up to you.”

“Are you really okay with chugging that?”

“Yeah, I’m a bartender,” Pandora said, inspecting the bright blue liquid in her cup. “I’m sure I’ve tasted worse.”

A seven-minute timer began as Sirius and Peter walked off.

Pandora clinked the concoction against her partner’s. Her wild grin juxtaposed their grimace. “Cheers!”

It was over as soon as it started. Pandora threw it back as her partner immediately covered their mouth and ran to the kitchen. A different stranger ran after them as Remus turned up the music to cover the sound of violent retching.

Without speaking, James made an exaggerated face across the room to Regulus who quietly laughed into his sleeve. Whenever it became his turn, James needed to figure out a way to make the bottle land on him.

“Are you okay?” Lily asked, crouching down, resting her hands on Pandora’s thighs.

“Did you put curry paste in there?” Pandora asked.

“Um, maybe?” Lily admitted.

At the same time Lily said, “I’m so sorry!” Pandora said, “I thought so. It had a nice kick!”

James downed half his drink, starting to feel his buzz morph into something looser and more freeing.

A few people whooped when Sirius and Peter walked back into the room. “How was it?”

“Well? Are the rumors true? Did I rock your world, baby?” Sirius teased, flopping down next to Remus.

Peter hid his face behind his hands like a blushing virgin and pitched his voice higher. “A good girl never kisses and tells.” Picking up the bottle, he asked “So, who’s the next victim?” 

Sirius leaned over to pluck the bottle out of Peter’s grip and handed it back to Regulus. “You can’t escape this time, Reggie.”

“Don’t call me that.” Regulus rolled his eyes, but took the bottle with both hands this time. He swept dark glossy hair out of his face and leaned forward on his elbows in the circle like a cat waiting to pounce.

The bottle spun slowly. One rotation and then another.

James tracked every movement and prayed. He prayed to an imaginary diety. To his ancestors, long buried on a distant continent. He prayed to the planets and comets and stars in the sky that couldn’t quite compete with the young man in front of him.

Torturously slow, it inched past Remus.

Please.

He finished the rest of his drink to avoid the disappointment he would feel when it didn’t land on him.

“Prongs!” Peter said, slapping his back. “You’re up. Closet or poison?”

“Closet,” James replied, confident in his response. His head swung. “Right?”

James expected to see a smug, satisfied look on Regulus’s face. The cat who caught the canary. But all he saw was wide eyes on pale skin. A single nod before Regulus stood up and walked off without waiting to see who the second couple was.

James ran after him.

“Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do!” Peter said, slowly closing the door. In the last moments of light, James catalogued a few things. Regulus’s posture was rigid. The easy smiles and quips were gone. He rang his hands, standing as far away from James as possible.

Damn. He’s nervous, James realized as the small room drowned in darkness.

This was a small glimpse of the shy boy that Sirius described growing up with.

No one moved or spoke in the dark.

“Is this okay?” James asked carefully. “Are you okay?”

“What? I’m fine,” Regulus said. If James hadn’t seen the evidence with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have heard any truth in his voice.

Regulus is a good liar, but his body betrays him.

This wasn’t the first time he’d come across that brand of deceit. It was the same with Sirius. In his mind, James cursed Walburga and Orion Black for the trillionth time.

“Regulus, if you’re concerned about being stuck in a closet with an alpha, we don’t have to do this. It’s completely fine,” James said.

“No, it’s not that.”

“Well, we don’t have to do this in any case, the reason doesn’t matter. If you want to stay in here, I promise I can keep my hands to myself. Or we can totally go back out there and I’ll drink both of the mystery juices,” James said.

“You’re ridiculous,” Regulus said. “It’s fine. It’s not you.”

“Are you afraid of the dark?” James asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“No way,” Regulus huffed. The sass in his voice made James less uneasy.

Right, he was an omega. They were drawn to small dark places. James pushed the mental image of Regulus’s nest as far back into his brain as humanly possible.

There was an inhale and then a small, stilted laugh. “You kind of remind me of someone.”

“Is that a good thing? Someone handsome and charming, I hope?” James prompted.

“No and yes,” Regulus admitted.

“I hope you didn’t get the order of those answers mixed up. Because it sounds like you’re saying you think I’m handsome,” James teased. He was good at this. Making himself the butt of the joke. It was Regulus’s turn to deny him and take back the power.

But that wasn’t what happened.

“Of course I think you’re handsome,” Regulus said softly.

“Oh,” James said, hearing the surprise in his own voice.

Shuffling feet made their way closer to James. He forced himself to stay still, to let Regulus come to him.

“Sorry,” Regulus said. “It’s really not you. I’m just having a shitty week and drinking doesn’t help.”

“Thanks for telling me. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

More shuffling until he felt the phantom imprint of Regulus’s body sitting an inch away from him.

“You’re sweet.”

“To you,” James said.

“No, I know you are. I know exactly who you are, Potter,” Regulus said. “You’re a household name, or at least, you were at our house.”

“I don’t know if I want you to have that image of me,” James said.

“It’s not that bad,” Regulus said, crossing that final inch over so their thighs touched.

“Well, that’s a relief. But I’d still like you to see me for me, instead of whatever reputation you’ve heard.”

“Okay,” Regulus said simply.

“Okay?”

“You can be someone else. Just show me who you truly are. Let’s agree now. You don’t have to be The James Prongs Potter around me.”

“Regulus, thank you.” James lifted a hand up to Regulus’s back. “Is this okay?”

“Is what okay? It’s not like I can see you.”

“Uh—Sorry, right. Can I touch you? Just here,” James asked, lightly running his fingertips along Regulus’s shoulders, mirroring Regulus’s gentle movements on his arm from earlier tonight.

“Oh. That’s more than okay.”

When Regulus leaned into the touch, James was glad for the dark room, feeling especially bare. Using two hands, James added more pressure, rubbing Regulus’s shoulders in a proper massage. Neither of them spoke for a minute or so, minus small sighs from Regulus who practically melted into James’s movements. He was impossibly soft and supple and pliant under him. Pride from his inner alpha had James putting extra effort into the back rub.

Regulus gasped as a soft alpha purr rattled through James’s chest.

James froze. “Shit. Sorry. Is this weird? This is weird…”

“No. Uh. It’s okay.” Regulus touched his forearm. “Actually, it’s kind of nice. No one has done this for me in…Well, it’s been a while.”

James let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and dropped his shoulders. “You sure?”

Regulus made a small affirmative sound, nuzzling down into James’s chest. At that moment, James would have given anything to scent him, to drown him in calm, reassuring pheromones so Regulus could never question James’s intentions. Surely Regulus felt how fast his heart was beating, but fortunately didn’t comment on it.

“So, does it go both ways?”

“Does what go both ways?” Regulus asked, sounding calm and younger than he had before.

“Will you be yourself with me? Will you show me who you truly are too?” James asked.

“You mean you won’t judge me?” Regulus asked, the comfortable playfulness from earlier bleeding back into his tone. “Even based on what Sirius says?”

A confident, sure Regulus was a beautiful thing. James would have to endeavor to keep him like that.

“I won’t judge you. Especially based on what Sirius says. I can’t believe he kept you away from me for this long. It’s so unfair,” James said, sliding even closer to Regulus.

“Pfft. He told me he was scared for you.” Regulus turned to face James, wrapping his arms around James’s neck. “To be fair, I’m a little scared for you too.”

“Please, don’t worry about me, I’m definitely not worried.” James laughed, sliding his hand into Regulus’s hair, running his fingers through the waves. It was thick and mostly soft with the residue of textured product. “It’s actually quite the opposite. Believe that this is exactly where I want to be.”

“Mmm, that feels nice.” Regulus climbed onto James’s lap, straddling him. “I want more.”

“You can have anything you want.”

“Keep talking to me like that,” Regulus moaned, leaning in.

An exhale left him and he tightened his grip around Regulus’s small, firm waist. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Please,” Regulus whispered.

“I searched all the stars in the sky for you tonight, but you weren’t there,” James mumbled into his neck, hooking his arms around Regulus’s waist.

“What does that mean?” Regulus shivered and tightened the hug, so their stomachs and chests were flush, pressed hard against one another.

James willed his body not to react inappropriately to the delicious, warm, and solid weight rubbing against him. He cleared his throat, wanting to explain how he’d felt tonight without sounding too desperate. “I’m just very affected by you. It’s more than that, I’m impressed, captivated. I think you’re beautiful. I mean, obviously. That’s not news to anyone. When you were stretching out there? Jesus, Regulus, I almost lost my fucking mind. And I would—I would love to see you dance. If you’d let me. I’m sure you’re spectacular.”

A heady moan from Regulus had James’s head spinning. “Kiss me.”

James ran his hands up and down Regulus’s sides, pulse rabbiting. He gripped his shirt and brought his mouth down to Regulus’s to press a gentle kiss. Regulus’s lips were welcoming and plush, eager to accept him. James was hungry for him, trailing his hands up and down the lean muscle of Regulus’s low back. They were fully going at it, picking up the pace and intensity like they couldn’t get enough of each other and James wanted to devour him. James tasted the tart cranberry juice from his cocktail on his tongue.

Regulus was all passion and heat and his soft noises were driving James crazy. He licked into his mouth, exploring every supple inch, sucking on his lips at the end of each slurping movement with finesse, then trailing desperate kisses the corners of his mouth, down along his sharp jaw to his neck.

A fire burned in his groin as he sucked and nibbled Regulus’s slender neck, putting in the work to ensure Regulus would remember this. Would remember James’s dedication to making him feel good. Would come back for more.

“Oh, James, yes,” Regulus whined.

“Say my name again.” He trailed his fingertips across the scent glands on Regulus’s neck causing Regulus to buck in his lap where James was slowly getting hard. 

The balmy closet was only getting warmer with their heated, frantic breaths. James wanted to undress Regulus, and stuck his hand up the back of his shirt, feeling the knobs of his spine.

His eyes squeezed shut and he threw back his head, baring more of that smooth expanse of skin. “James.” When Regulus felt his arousal he moaned, grinding down, using James’s shoulders for leverage.

James tugged him down hard on his lap, letting Regulus feel all of him. “Again.”

“James, James, James. Give me more, James,” he moaned.

“You like that?” James asked, rocking Regulus back and forth, feeling Regulus’s erection growing against his stomach. He flexed his abs as it rubbed against them.

“Feels so good,” Regulus moaned, one fist in James’s hair and the other on his thigh, properly riding him now.

James picked up the speed, working up a sweat, never breaking from his hot, wet assault on Regulus’s neck and ear and collar bones. “You’re so damn sexy,” James said into his skin, biting and sucking harder. “All night, you’ve been driving me crazy.”

There was something mouthwateringly sweet and seductive in the air. Juicy and fruity and darkly complex. The scent made James’s heartbeat pick up and his own glands kick into overdrive. His cock stirred when he realized it was the omega on top of him reacting to James.

Was this his perfume? Was he doing this for James? Did this perfect little omega want James to smell him?

James rubbed the tip of his nose along the line of his jaw, then lifted his chin to scent mark Regulus.

“Mmm, you smell fucking delicious,” James said, pushing out a strong wave of his own pheromones, unbelievably grateful that the scent blocking spray had finally worn off. He let his scent cloud them.

“Wha—?” Regulus moaned, too lost in sensation to be present.

Until he wasn’t.

Regulus’s grip tightened to the point of pain on James’s skin as he stopped moving.

There was a sharp inhale.

“Regulus?” James asked. “Are you okay?”

The young man was eerily still, all sharp angles and coiled tension.

“Regulus, please what’s wrong?” James's voice cracked.

Another series of quick inhales.

A broken whine breaking in Regulus’s throat.

And then a sob.

Regulus violently ripped out of James’s arms and sprinted out of the closet, loudly gasping for breath as if he had been drowning.

“Regulus!” James called, chasing after him into the blinding light, but too slow.

The front door slammed.

Regulus was gone.

And James had never felt so cold.

Chapter Text

Missed call from unknown number.

Missed call from unknown number.

Text from unknown number:

Hey, it’s James! Sirius gave me your number. Can I call you? Or can you call me back?

I don’t know what happened tonight but… 

I just want to make sure you’re okay. It seems like you were upset.

Is your middle name Arcturus, btw? I’m pretty sure I figured something insane out tonight that you’re going to want to know.

Voice note from unknown number:

“Hi Regulus, it’s James again. I tried texting but maybe this is easier? I’m not really sure what to say. Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? I am so sorry if I upset you or if you felt taken advantage of in any way. I’m kind of worried about you, so please just let me know if you’re okay. And I have something to tell you, something big. So, um, just text or call me back. Or voice note. Even carrier pigeon? Anything? I’ll be waiting. Thanks. Bye.”

Missed call from unknown number.

Voice note from unknown number:

“Hey again. It’s me, um, me being James Potter. Sirius’s friend from last night. I don’t know if you’re getting these messages, but hopefully this is the right number. I’m just calling to say I’m worried about you. I guess you probably hate me. And I don’t blame you. God, I’m already messing this up, aren’t I? Look, I am so, so sorry if you felt taken advantage of. It wasn’t my intention. Please, believe me. An alpha should never corner an omega like that and the last thing I would ever want to do is, uh, be coercive. Or weird. Or make you uncomfortable. Um. Yeah. So you don’t owe it to me to call me back at all, obviously, but if you wanted to send me anything to let me know if you’re okay, I would really appreciate it. Even like a middle finger emoji would work. Sorry, I’m so bad at this. This whole thing just sucks and I hate that I hurt you. But I have something important to tell you. I’d prefer to do it in person but if not, that’s fine. Please give me a call when you’re feeling better. There’s something you need to know. Uh, okay, bye.”

Voicemail from unknown number:

“Hi Regulus, it’s James Potter again. Sirius let me know this actually is your number, which means you’re ignoring me. I’ll take the hint and stop bothering you for now. I’m here whenever you want to talk. Bye.”

Missed call from unknown number.

Missed call from unknown number.

Missed call from unknown number.

Voicemail from unknown number:

“Shhh, stop, no, Moony, stop. REGULUS! It’s James. No, Moony, stop, it’s okay, he won’t be mad. No! I’m not drunk, just shut up. Sorry, Regulus, hey! It’s James. Just calling to say I miss you and you’re special! So special and so pretty, oh my god. Prettiest person I’ve ever seen in real life probably. Sirius said you aren’t confident enough so that’s why I’m calling. Cuz you should have the most confidence out of everyone. Even if you don’t want to talk to me right now. You need to know. You should know how lovely you are. You deserve to be so happy, Regulus. Yeah, me and Reggieeee, we’re meant to beeeee. Oh. Wait, you don’t know how meant to be we are! REMUS, shut up! Regulus, I reallyyyy need to talk to you about something important. It’s so important. But you don’t want to talk to me. If I was someone else would you want me? I can pretend! I can be whoever you want. Whoever, whenever, wherever you want. Hey! Stop—he doesn’t even know we’re—”

Missed call from unknown number.

Voicemail from unknown number:

“Um, Regulus, hi. It’s James. Again. I’m so sorry about last night. I just saw the video of me calling you and…yeah, it’s pretty bad. Anyway, I think I’ve humiliated myself enough, so this will be my last call. You clearly don’t want to talk to me and I’m just stupid, I guess. Um, anyway, I wish you the best. I truly believe you deserve all the happiness in the world. So, yeah. I’ll leave you alone for good now. Bye.”