Chapter Text
Regulus keeps on finding little presents on his pillow before he goes to bed, or next to his cauldron in the morning. It’s spring flowers at first, yellow daffodils and purple crocuses, but then he finds an old key, polished until it shines in Regulus’s hands. It symbolises the fact that James’s heart now belongs to him. He knows that; he was brought up to be a perfect pure-blood wizard, conscious of all the family traditions he would have to follow.
Regulus holds the key tight against his chest while he remembers his mother listing all the presents he was supposed to give his soon-to-be fiancée when he turned eighteen, before he managed to persuade her to let the war finish before she found him a witch to marry. He was hoping to be dead by then. He would have never thought he would see the day when he would be the one to be courted. He never thought James would be the one to care about old wizarding traditions.
He knows he’s not supposed to mention the gifts until James makes a move and asks about them, but it’s so hard to feign ignorance when his heart expands with every day that goes by, threatening to spill with all the love he feels for James.
He finds a pair of gloves, soft and worn out, probably belonging to James’s father or his grandfather, a token to welcome him to the family. A handmade scarf, all wonky and with bits of thread sticking out, but so carefully folded and in Regulus’s favourite shade of blue. He doesn’t even know when James found the time to knit it for him; when he learnt how to.
Some of the presents are old-fashioned, like an embroidered handkerchief with the Potter family crest, or a small pendant with their initials engraved at the front and containing a lock of James’s hair inside.
Regulus smiles when he finds a tin mug next to his cauldron one morning, symbolising the ten years they’ve known each other. He remembers the first time he saw James, on Platform 9¾ when he went to collect Sirius at the start of his first Christmas break. He was so excited to have his brother back, and he couldn’t believe his eyes when Sirius got out of the train, hand in hand with a scrawny boy wearing glasses and the most atrociously messy hair Regulus had ever laid eyes on.
“I—” James starts, appearing by the kitchen door with his hands buried in the front pocket of his Muggle jumper, the one with the hood that Regulus likes to steal because it smells like him and feels like a warm hug. James’s cheeks are flushed, his freckles so lovely and eyes shining as he seems to look for the right words to say. “I—I hope you like the mug. It’s tin, you see…”
“Because it’s been ten years since the day I first asked you why your hair was such a mess,” Regulus murmurs before he leans forward to kiss James, long and sweet, feeling him quiver against his lips, his fingers trembling when they brush against Regulus’s cheekbones.
“Do you like it?” James asks when they part, his voice hesitant.
“I love every single one of your presents,” Regulus says with a smile, watching the uncertainty melt into happiness in James’s gaze when he realises Regulus is accepting his courtship.
“I love you,” James says, and it feels like a confession, like something that he’s kept hidden for so long but has now floated to the surface, unbound and free in the certainty of Regulus’s own love. “I love you so much, Reggie.”
“I love you, too,” he whispers, still too scared to say it too loud, in case it bursts in his face or burns him with the force of its intensity. Regulus was taught from a very young age that love is something fickle, to be kept hidden and restrained. Something troublesome that would get in the way of aspiration and success. It’s taken him so long to bury those conceits deep down, to burn them to the ground like the nonsense that they are.
He lets himself love James and cherish him, cuddling him in front of the fire, kissing him goodnight, holding his hand when they sleep together and welcoming him with a smile in the morning.
He finds his own ways to spoil James, too. Since he’s pants at cooking and doesn’t have a clue how to knit, he focuses on what he’s really good at.
“What are you brewing?” James asks, looking curious when Regulus starts slicing maca root and adds it to the potion already simmering in the cauldron. “Smells nice. Is that cinnamon? I love cinnamon.”
“I know,” Regulus replies with a smile, flicking his wand to lower the flame after he’s finished adding the ingredients he prepared on the chopping board. He casts a Cleaning Charm on his hands and then turns towards James, who is still standing there, curiously peeking at the cauldron as if he suspected what it contains.
Regulus runs his fingers along the perfect line of James’s jaw, tucking an unruly curl behind his ear and then leaning forward to press a kiss to his neck. He feels James exhale against his skin, catches his quickening pulse under his fingers when he presses his thumb to his neck. He loves feeling the life thrum inside James.
Regulus’s hands roam across James’s chest, slowly unbuttoning his cardigan and letting it slide down James’s arms, then sneaking his hands under his top to touch bare skin and feel James’s warmth.
“Your potion…” James mumbles before Regulus captures his lips in a heated kiss. Regulus hums in pleasure against his mouth, his fingers expertly working at unfastening James’s belt and then undoing his trousers. He feels the breath hitch in James’s throat and watches his pupils dilate when he realises that Regulus doesn’t simply want to kiss. It’s only when Regulus sinks down to his knees, raising his eyes to look at him with intent, that James looks at him, then back at the potion. “Is this…”
“Yesterday, I happened to find the instructions on how to brew a very special lube,” Regulus starts, lowering the elastic band of James’s pants and letting his erection free. He watches the bead of precome already gathered at the tip, and his mouth waters in anticipation.
“Oh,” James murmurs, his hands reaching for Regulus’s hair, sliding through it with a sigh when Regulus nuzzles at his cock, placing a soft kiss at the base and then kissing his way up, slowly.
“It’s a special recipe,” Regulus continues, “because it adapts to the specific needs of the people who are using it. Sort of a bespoke lube, if you like.”
“Hmm,” James moans when Regulus suckles at the tip of his cock, then lowers his mouth to swallow him whole, keeping his eyes on him to watch the spectacle that is his boyfriend falling apart, his eyebrows creasing and lips quivering when Regulus gives him a particularly hard suck.
“In order for it to work,” Regulus continues, letting go of James’s cock and pulling a disgruntled whimper from him.
“Darling, I love it when you get so passionate about potions,” James says, threading his fingers through Regulus’s hair and tugging gently, “but please don’t tease. I need you, Reggie…”
Regulus gives his cock a hard stroke, gathering James’s foreskin at the tip and twisting his wrist several times in that way that never ceases to make James moan out loud.
“As I was saying,” Regulus continues, “in order for it to work, the potion requires something from the people who are going to use it.”
“Something?” James asks, looking momentarily confused in his evident state of arousal.
“Fluids,” Regulus replies, wiggling his eyebrows at him. “Like saliva,” he says, flicking his tongue out to tease the slit, “or semen.”
“Oh,” James blurts out, but then his eyes drift shut, his mouth opening on a debauched sound when Regulus takes him back in his mouth and starts bobbing his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks to wring as much pleasure out of James as he can before he comes. “I love you. Love you so much, Reggie…”
“Hmm,” Regulus hums, since his mouth is too busy to reply. He drinks in the sight of James, lingering on the edge of his orgasm for a long moment, calling out his name and professing his love with a desperate tone, until he tips over the edge with a shuddered gasp, filling Regulus’s mouth with his release.
Regulus is careful not to swallow. He waits for James to come down from his high, and then he lets the still hard cock slide out of his mouth and stands up on wobbly knees. He leans over the cauldron and lets his lips part, watching the white semen drip into the pearlescent potion and making it become clear, almost shiny after he gives it a stir with his wand.
“Fuck, that was intense,” James mutters, placing his hand on Regulus’s hip and pressing his chest against Regulus’s back. His hand slowly moves down, to cup the evident erection that is straining Regulus’s trousers. “I thought you said the potion required something from both of us,” James says, his voice husky.
“My saliva should be enough,” Regulus replies, turning to capture his mouth in a languid kiss and gasping when James unbuttons his trousers with avid hands and gets his hard cock out, giving it a lazy stroke.
“Wouldn’t want to risk it not being enough,” James mumbles against his skin, peppering his neck with open-mouthed kisses that leave Regulus lightheaded and craving more. “I think we should make sure there’s a good sample of your—how did you put it?”
“Ah—” Regulus moans when James lowers his trousers and gives his buttocks a squeeze, massaging them until Regulus spreads his legs a little further and James has full access to touch him wherever he pleases.
“Fluids. Yes, I think we shouldn’t leave anything to chance,” James murmurs, his breath hot and voice low, heavy with want. “You’re a professional, after all.”
Regulus can’t even reply, all the words gone from his brain as he moans and pants while James carefully slides his finger against his entrance, teasing his rim while he strokes Regulus’s cock until he comes with a startled gasp inside the cauldron, making the potion sizzle and then change again. He watches it become translucent while he catches his breath, mesmerised once again in his life by the utter beauty of potions, fascinated by how they transform.
James says that he’s a swot, but with such a sweet smile and fond expression that Regulus feels it’s more like a compliment; something that James cherishes, instead of the insult his classmates used to throw at him every time Regulus got full marks in a test.
“My beautiful swot,” James repeats much later, after they’ve both experienced how utterly divine the lube makes them feel, James’s cock sliding inside him with the most perfect drag and his fingers dancing on Regulus’s cock, making him fall apart on his hands and knees. Regulus screams his release, the orgasm shaking him to the core, and then he feels James moaning against his skin as he tips over the edge a heartbeat later. After James has laid Regulus on his bed, limbs heavy and head featherlight, he cleans him up with his magic and then pulls the soft duvet over them both.
“Good lube,” Regulus mumbles, and James chuckles, wrapping his arms around him.
“Utter perfection, darling.”
The following morning Regulus wakes up to find another present on his pillow. He blinks a couple of times in the dim light of the morning, a single ray of sunshine filtering through the blinds and illuminating the tiny token of James’s love.
It’s a ring.
It’s silver, with an intricate pattern of vines on the outside. Regulus reaches for it with his fingers and realises straight away that it’s a poesy ring. He looks for the quotation inscribed on the inner surface of the ring, wondering what James has picked for this very particular courting gift.
I long to have but blush to crave.
Regulus’s heart beats faster as he holds the precious gift in his trembling fingers. This is not an engagement ring; he knows it very well, but he still knows how important it is. How it will make him feel like he belongs to James once he wears it and James sees him. James longs to make him his. He craves.
Regulus slides the cold metal over the ring finger of his left hand, like a promise, watching the way it perfectly fits and makes him feel giddy with happiness and love. He almost pushes the duvet to the floor in a haste to put some pants on and go find James. He quickly pops to the loo to wash his face and mouth and relieve his bladder, and then he runs downstairs, still barefoot despite the cold floor. His cheeks must be flushed and smile radiant when he opens the kitchen door, but he freezes when he realises that James is not alone.
Remus is sitting there, cradling a mug between his hands and a solemn expression on his face. James’s eyes meet Regulus’s, then dart down to look for the ring, a smile blooming on his face when he notices that Regulus is wearing it. But James’s happiness is gone as soon as Remus clears his throat and fishes a small, black envelope out of the pocket of his trousers.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, then bites on his bottom lip and shakes his head before he hands the letter to Regulus.
He knows what it is. He’s seen it before, in his mother’s hands when her parents died; in his own when his father passed away only a few months back. It’s a family tradition to have those letters delivered when someone dies; he assumes Kreacher took care of it since there’s no one left in the Black household.
“Is it my mother?” Regulus asks, running his thumb over the wax and tracing the family crest. His voice shakes, despite his desire to appear indifferent, to be indifferent, because she was an awful woman with terrible beliefs. Because she spent her days making him feel so wrong about what he felt and who he really was. Because her portrait would probably condemn him to the worst punishments if she discovered that he wants to spend the rest of his life with James.
“Sirius got both letters this morning, since he’s the firstborn,” Remus explains. “Apparently, her heart stopped in her sleep. She died peacefully.”
Regulus doesn’t know how to feel. His own heart is doing something mad in his chest, beating faster and hurting, even though it’s not supposed to.
He nods, because the words seem to be lost, stuck somewhere he can’t reach. He feels James’s hand in his, interlacing their fingers and keeping him grounded.
“How did Padfoot take it?” James asks, letting his arm wrap around Regulus’s back, pulling him closer, into the comfort of his warm body. Regulus realises he’s only wearing a pair of boxers. James’s boxers, red and gold and so flashy that they scream Gryffindor.
“He—” Remus seems to hesitate before he shrugs and rolls his eyes. “Padfoot opened a bottle of bubbly and got himself sloshed before breakfast.”
James shakes his head, but Regulus makes a noise, something indistinctive at the back of his throat, upset at the thought of his brother celebrating their mother’s death. She was undoubtedly vile to Sirius. She said the worst things a parent could ever say about her own son. Regulus knows she was a dreadful person, but there’s a part of him that still aches in a way that takes his breath away.
“Hey,” James murmurs, kissing his temple in a careless display of affection that makes Regulus blush. They’ve never been intimate in front of someone else.
“There’s something else,” Remus adds, making an odd grimace before he motions at the kitchen window and the garden outside. “Greyback has been spotted in this area. The reports are confusing, but several wixen in Godric’s Hollow have reported seeing a massive werewolf roaming the woods. Dumbledore wants you to be extra careful.”
“Moony, are you sure—” James starts, but Remus gives him a knowing look.
“Prongs, if Greyback’s out there, he can smell you,” he adds. “I know because I can. Animagi have a different scent; it’s not the same as an animal. And maybe he wouldn’t be able to recognise your specific scent because he’s never met you, but he would definitely spot Regulus from miles away, even in his Animagus form, because he knows him.”
Regulus freezes and stares at Remus.
“How do you even know Reggie is an Animagus?” James asks before Regulus can voice his disbelief.
“It smells of cat in here,” Remus replies, wrinkling his nose. “And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you would most likely teach your boyfriend how to transform into an Animagus to follow you outside.”
James doesn’t point out that he actually taught Regulus years ago, but he still looks displeased at their secret being unearthed so easily by Remus’s werewolf nose.
Regulus looks at the letter in his hand, still unopened and most likely containing a list of the things his parents have left him. He wonders what’s going to happen to Kreacher, and his heart clenches painfully in his chest at the thought of his trusted house-elf, who risked his own life to save him.
A wave of sorrow envelops him, and the familiar prickling feeling of tears threatening to spill from his eyes makes him abruptly move and reach for the kitchen door. He looks at his own hand, the ring so beautiful as it catches the light, in stark contrast with the dark and stiff texture of the envelope underneath it.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he says, and he ignores Remus’s empty words of condolences and James calling his name. He quickly climbs the stairs and enters James’s bedroom instead of his own. He climbs on the bed, sinking his face in James’s pillow, inhaling the essence of him, and then he lets his body shrink, as tiny as it can get, wrapping his tail around himself and closing his eyes as he lets out a soft meow. It’s so much easier to bear all his grief in such a small body, as if there weren’t enough space to hold it all.
He doesn’t know how much time has gone by when James finds him, his fingers tender and warm when they start stroking his fur, making Regulus purr and tilt his head up, automatically reaching for his touch.
“I’m sorry about your mum,” James says, sitting down next to him in bed and lifting him up after a moment. He lets Regulus’s little paws dangle in the air before he tentatively places him in his lap. James has never done this before, and Regulus stills for a moment, unsure if he can have this; if he can be this vulnerable with him, so utterly defenceless in James’s arms. “Would you like me to put you down? Meow for yes.”
Regulus remains quiet, and after a few seconds his silence is rewarded by James’s big hand stroking his fur, so comforting and warm that Regulus purrs louder than ever. He suddenly remembers why he’s in his cat form, and he stills for a moment, letting out a little whine and closing his eyes.
“I know, my love. It’s okay to be upset,” James murmurs, lifting him up as if he weighed absolutely nothing and kissing the top of his head. “I know Sirius hated her, and she was probably not that nice to you either, but she was still your mum. I cried for weeks when mine died, so I just wanted to say—it’s okay to be heartbroken. You don’t have to act strong with me.”
Regulus doesn’t say anything, but he just lets his eyes drift shut and focuses on the grounding feeling of James’s fingers stroking his fur and talking softly to him. He seems to hesitate after a moment, scratching that perfect spot behind Regulus’s ears and making him let out a little whimper.
“Would you like me to continue touching you and talking? Meow for no.” Reggie is quiet, so James lies down and places him on his chest and talks to him. About losing his parents; about how devastating it was since he was here on his own.
“I keep on thinking that I should have asked them more about their childhood,” James says softly, his fingers tender on Regulus’s tiny body. “One day, I realised I didn’t know what was the best spell to get rid of oil stains, and my immediate thought was to Owl my mum, but I couldn’t, and it—it’s just so heart-breaking to think that I’ll never get to speak to her or to my dad again. And I know you weren’t that close to your parents, and that your mum would have probably been against you being in the Order, or—or with me, but…she was still your mum.”
Regulus rubs his nose against James’s hand, licking his skin and pulling a soft giggle from him.
“Tickles,” James mumbles affectionately, and then he makes a noise at the back of his throat. “Sorry, I need a wee. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Regulus lets out a loud meow of protest when James lifts him up to move him, and his boyfriend stills, holding him up to his face to kiss the top of Regulus’s head.
“Are you trying to tell me you’d like me to put you in my pocket and take you with me to the loo?” James asks, his tone clearly playful, but Regulus meows once, as loud as he can. James’s dark eyebrows go up in surprise. “Really?” Regulus meows again.
James shrugs, then he carefully places him in the front pocket of his Muggle hoodie. It feels soft and warm and smells distinctively like James, which is so comforting that Regulus starts purring, without meaning to, and he feels James tenderly patting the outside of the pocket as he walks to the toilet.
“I’m going to make myself a cup of tea and some toast,” James says afterwards, and Regulus just snuggles up and dozes off for a moment, content like he hasn’t been in a while, safe in the warmth and comfort that only James can provide, his voice soothing while he speaks to Regulus about this and that and carries him around the house while he makes himself breakfast and then tidies up the kitchen.
There’s a part of his mind that knows he will eventually have to open that letter and face the fact that he’s an orphan now, but for the time being, Regulus decides to just let James take care of him, placing him on the kitchen table for a saucer of milk and some tuna and then carrying him around in his pocket for the rest of the day.
His thoughts feel syrupy-slow and inconsequential after so many hours spent in his Animagus form, and when the day draws to a close, night falling and James’s touch turning featherlight on the sofa, Regulus stretches and looks up at the love of his life. James has been speaking to him all day, confessing things he probably never told anyone, weaknesses that made him blush and falter as he continued stroking Regulus’s fur. Regulus gets it—this terrifying need to bare every corner of his faulty heart to James, to let him see all the broken parts of him so that he can change his mind before it’s too late. But he absolutely adores all the things James considers as flaws about himself, every single weakness and embarrassing confession.
When he finally transforms, his body stretching back to its long lines and slender figure, he finds himself straddling James’s lap, still wearing his underwear from when he left the warmth of their bed in the morning. James blinks at him, clearly surprised as his hands automatically reach for Regulus’s waist, holding him there and making him feel safe. Cherished.
“I love you,” Regulus murmurs, leaning in for a long, languid kiss that pulls a little gasp from James and leaves him panting and desperate by the time they part, clinging to Regulus and gently rocking against him, already hard and needy. “I love you so much,” Regulus repeats, his body warm and mind still slow and mellow, pure need guiding him when he places the palm of his left hand against James’s cheek and kisses him deep, rubbing his cock against James’s and making him whine, low in his throat.
When they part again, James hums and covers Regulus’s hand with his, then brings it to his lips, kissing his palm and his fingers, one by one, pausing for a moment when he reaches the ring Regulus has been wearing since morning.
“Do you—” James starts, hesitant.
“I love it,” Regulus immediately replies, and James hums again, softly and with flushed cheeks, before he starts kissing his way down Regulus’s wrist, pressing his lips to the Dark Mark and making Regulus shiver when he kisses him there. “You don’t have to…”
“I love everything about you,” James confesses hotly, as if that thought was burning him from the inside. As if he were consumed by it. “Everything.”
“I want you inside me,” Regulus murmurs, reaching for James’s wand on the sofa and casting a spell to get rid of their clothes. James moans at the sudden contact of bare skin, pulling him even closer.
“I fucking love it when you use my wand,” he confesses, letting his hand move lower, between them, to wrap his fingers around their cocks and stroke them together. Regulus moans, tipping his head back at the sudden wave of pleasure that envelops him, and James starts kissing his neck, hot and open-mouth kisses that leave him light-headed and whimpering, already begging for more.
Regulus has a feeling that spending the whole day in his Animagus form has lowered his inhibitions and made him more open about what he wants, but he can’t help it as he wraps his hands around James’s neck and claims his lips for another heated kiss.
“I want you,” Regulus says, his voice already husky and needy. “James, please…I want to be so full of you. I want your come inside me.”
“Yes,” James replies, his voice a mere whisper when he takes the wand from Regulus’s slack fingers and Summons a vial of the lube Regulus has brewed. “I’m going to fuck you slow and deep, darling. I want to hear you begging for more.”
“Want you to fill me up,” Regulus chants, his eyes closed and lips parted when James presses a lubed-up finger against his entrance and just strokes him for a moment, teasing him when all Regulus wants is to be taken. “Please, love, please. I need you so badly.”
The breath hitches in his throat when James finally pushes inside him, his finger sinking in smoothly but at a maddeningly slow pace.
“You feel so hot and tight,” James says before he starts sucking a bruise on his neck, his lips so warm and wet and possessive that they pull a whine from Regulus.
“Want another finger,” Regulus says, conscious of how utterly wrecked he already sounds. “I need to feel so full of you, James, please…”
“Fuck,” James curses, fingering him for a little longer before he adds a second one, watching Regulus with bright eyes, as if he were drinking in the sight of Regulus coming undone on his lap, rocking against him to get some delicious friction from their cocks rubbing against each other. “Look at you—so gorgeous, darling.”
“I’m yours,” Regulus murmurs, his mind swimming, drowning in love and want and need. “All yours, my love.”
“Reggie,” James whines, closing his eyes for an instant.
“I want you to fill me up with your come,” Regulus says again, then softly, “Want you to breed me, James, please...”
James’s hazel eyes open wide, and for a moment, Regulus is seized by panic at the thought that he’s said too much; that it was wrong of him to voice a desire he’s kept hidden in the depths of his heart for so long. But then James groans, pushing his fingers all the way inside him and making Regulus gasp. Then, James uses his other hand to thread his fingers through Regulus’s hair and tugs at it to tilt his head back and kiss him, hard and indecent, meaningful in a way that makes Regulus burn from the inside out.
“I’m going to fuck you,” James says when they part, sliding his fingers out of Regulus and making him whimper at the loss. He knows that James was planning to finger him for ages, to tease and make him beg; to ensure Regulus was loose and ready for him.
Instead, James quickly covers his cock in lube and makes Regulus lift his hips so that he can sink inside him, as if he can’t hold back any longer and needs to be buried balls deep in Regulus’s tight heat. James moans long and desperate when Regulus takes him inside, his voice failing when he bottoms out. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”
“James…”
“I’m going to put my baby in you,” James whispers against his ear, his words indecent as he fucks into Regulus and makes him quickly lose control. “Going to keep my come inside you afterwards. You’re going to be so fucking full of me, darling.”
“Fuck, Jamie—”
“Merlin, I love it when you call me that,” James replies, his thrusts picking up pace, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Regulus’s waist as their movements become more urgent and graceless.
Regulus lets his eyes drift shut, focusing on the feeling of James’s hot breath against his mouth, their parted lips touching as James pushes into him with a groan, letting his fingers slide down and trace Regulus’s rim, pulling a loud moan from him.
“Ah—” Regulus gasps, feeling his orgasm getting closer and closer, little sparks of his magic making the air crackle between them in a way that he knows James loves.
“Like that, love,” James murmurs low in his ear. “Hold on for a little longer. I want you to come after I’ve filled you up with my come, darling.”
“Fuck, Jamie…”
James moans, his thrusts stuttering as he stills for a second and then gasps, his grip tightening on Regulus’s waist as he comes with a whimper, burying his face in Regulus’s neck. Regulus feels it, the wetness between his legs, and then James’s hand wrapping around his cock and stroking Regulus once, twice, until he comes with a shuddered moan all over himself, his eyes squeezed shut and lips parted.
“I love you so much,” he hears James whisper against his heated skin, then again and again, “Love you, Reggie. You have no idea what you do to me.”
“James…” he mumbles feebly, his eyes still closed as James keeps him there, peppering his face with kisses and brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead. He’s still inside him, and Regulus can feel his come slowly trickling out of his hole when James pushes back in, shallow thrusts that send waves of pleasure through them both and that make James moan with his mouth pressed to Regulus’s heated skin.
Regulus feels like his body is loose and heavy but his mind so light it could float like a feather. James pulls out of him after a long moment, making Regulus lie down on the sofa and watching him with an intense look before he eventually casts a Cleaning Charm on them both.
Regulus doesn’t say much that evening, content with the feeling of James helping him into clean clothes and then tucking him into bed next to him with a sweet kiss.
He tries not to think about the embarrassing things he’s said while they were having sex the following day, even when James confesses that it was the most intense sex he’s ever had and he can’t stop thinking about it. He reckons maybe James thinks they’ve simply stumbled upon a common kink, and he doesn’t confess that yes, saying and hearing those things turned him on like nothing else, but he also meant it. He wants to be bred.
Instead, he opens the black letter that has become all crinkled, and he finds out he has been left absolutely nothing.
“Nothing?” James asks with a frown, taking the envelope from his limp hands.
“I think Sirius inherited everything since he’s the firstborn,” Regulus replies, confused. “My mother—she said he had been disowned when he left, but then I reckon she disowned me, too. And by law, since Sirius is the first in line, he probably still inherited everything.”
“I doubt he wants that old house,” James points out.
“I don’t want it either,” Regulus confesses, surprising himself with the admission. “I hate it. Hated every single minute I spent there, especially after Sirius left. I only—I just want to make sure Kreacher is fine…”
“Don’t worry, my love,” James says with a warm smile, kissing his cheek and resting his head on Regulus’s shoulder. “Let’s write to Sirius. I’m sure he’ll make sure Kreacher is alright.”
Regulus does, and he manages to convince his brother to go check on their old house-elf, who apparently refuses to leave the house but seems perfectly fine on his own, especially after he finds out that Regulus is still alive.
“Any news on Greyback?” James asks, looking nervous as he taps a pencil against his scruffy notes about some obscure bone-mending spell that he’s been trying to learn all day.
“Sirius doesn’t mention him,” Regulus replies with a sympathetic look. He knows James is going mad indoors; that he misses running in the woods and getting some fresh air, but they can’t risk it. “Hopefully next week,” he says reassuringly, and James sighs deeply.
But Remus keeps on bringing words of caution, and Regulus suddenly seems to feel too unwell to leave the house anyway. He’s been feeling nauseous, lately, struggling to brew some of the potions that never used to bother him in the past. He can’t stomach the sight of raw meat when James prepares it for himself, and everything seems to smell more pungent, almost to the point of being unbearable.
“Let me cast another diagnostic spell,” James says, looking worried as he pointlessly tries to find out what’s wrong with him and comes up with no answer once again. “Maybe we should take you to a Healer.”
“James, you are a Healer,” Regulus points out.
“Trainee,” James specifies. “I could ask someone from St Mungo’s to meet up in a safe house.”
“Too risky,” Regulus replies, shaking his head. “It’s probably just exhaustion catching up with me. Don’t worry, Jamie.”
But James seems to worry a lot, checking his blood pressure and saying it’s too low, telling him to rest and to eat fresh fruit and vegetables. He makes him freshly squeezed orange juice every day and spends hours poring over his books in search for an answer for Regulus’s mysterious malady.
Regulus keeps on telling him not to fuss over him; that he’s fine, but at the same time, he can’t help but secretly love how James cares for him, in that sweet and determined way of his. And during the long days spent indoors, trying to keep the nausea at bay and longingly looking outside the window, Regulus starts thinking about the future, for the first time in so long.
He had stopped after his life had taken a wrong turn; after he realised he could be dead the following day when he was trying to kill the Dark Lord. But now—now hope blooms in his heart like the forget-me-nots that pepper the grass of their garden. And Regulus desperately wants all the things he’s never allowed himself to want. A warm home where he feels safe. James by his side. A family with him. He wants all these things with every fibre of his being. He craves them.
He wonders if he can stretch his fingers and be bold enough to grasp them.
“Have you ever considered marrying my brother?” he asks Remus one morning, while James is in his bedroom—their bedroom, now—looking for an old photo of Sirius and them together.
“I beg your pardon?” Remus asks, almost spilling his tea all over his patched up jumper.
“Do you want to marry Sirius?” Regulus repeats, his cheeks flushing when he notices how embarrassed Remus suddenly looks.
“I—I…well,” Remus replies, then he clears his throat and covers his face with his hands. “I don’t—there’s nothing I would like more than to spend my life with Sirius, but…”
“But?” Regulus prods him, hearing James swear loudly upstairs and the crashing noise of a box being unceremoniously dropped on the floor.
“But…” Remus continues, then sighs and tilts his head, finally meeting his eyes again. “But I don’t want to sentence him to a miserable life, married to an outcast—to a man and a-a-a werewolf. Can you imagine that?” Remus’s eyebrows knit, and he stares at his fingers, tracing his own scars with his thumb while he chews his lips. “Sirius deserves better,” he mumbles softly.
“You’re a fool if you think that,” Regulus replies, knowing full well that his brother wouldn’t survive without his Remus; that there’s a ring in his sock drawer that Sirius is going to use to propose this weekend, and Remus will probably cry and say yes, like the sap that he secretly is. But he doesn’t say that; he simply smiles and watches the man in front of him shuffle on his chair and pick at a scab on his cheek.
“Since we’re getting personal,” Remus says, looking extremely awkward and staring at the kitchen door, as if worried James is going to burst through it any minute now, “I don’t know how to say this without it sounding too weird, but—your scent has changed a lot lately.”
“My scent?” Regulus asks, instinctively lifting the collar of his robes to give it a preoccupied sniff.
“It’s much sweeter, more…” Remus inhales deeply, flaring his nostrils, “Hormonal. There’s no other way to describe it. I mean…I don’t know if you—”
“Found it!” James exclaims, barging into the kitchen and making them both jump.
“Oh, great!” Remus exclaims, clearly still looking embarrassed and quickly accepting the photo from James before he finds an excuse to Disapparate with a clumsy attempt to hug them both at the same time.
“What was that about?” James asks, but an idea suddenly strikes Regulus.
It can’t be possible, he thinks.
Surely not.
He tries to turn into an Animagus but realises that he can’t.
Fuck.
His lips part in realisation, and he shakes his head, still in disbelief.
“I need to brew something,” he says, his fingers trembling as he assembles the ingredients required for the potion, telling James to go upstairs and sort out the mess he’s probably made of the bedroom while he was searching for the photo. James begrudgingly agrees, and Regulus is left on his own, hands shaking as he adds pomegranate seeds and raspberry leaf to the cauldron, thinking that the chances of his assumptions being correct are so utterly slim that he will feel like a complete fool when the potion turns clear.
But then he thinks about all the times James has come inside him, about his open desire to have a baby. To breed him. He remembers reading about this, ages ago. Male pregnancies are rare, but possible. Intentions count.
And then, he recalls brewing the special lube.
“Shit, I used maca root,” he mumbles to himself, realising he added a fertility enhancer to the lubricant he’s been using to have unprotected sex with his boyfriend. “Merlin, fuck…”
A wave of panic rises in his chest as he bites on his bottom lip and waits for the potion to be ready. Clear for not pregnant, colourful for a child in his belly. Regulus doesn’t know what to hope for. He hasn’t even discussed it with James yet. Yes, James has been courting him, but Regulus doesn’t know what James actually wants. He’s a man, after all. An ex-Death Eater. Maybe Remus was right. If Sirius can do better than marrying a man and an outcast, then James is definitely better off without the likes of him.
The potion starts simmering, and Regulus grabs his knife, using the very tip to draw blood, a single drop that falls from his finger right into the cauldron, making it sizzle and smoke and then slowly stop bubbling.
Regulus peers into the cauldron, his breath stuck in his throat.
The potion turns murky, then thickens and shines a pure yellow.
He’s pregnant.
“Reggie?” James asks, suddenly appearing by his side and placing a hand on the small of his back. “Hey, love. Are you okay? You’re shaking; is everything alright?”
“I…” he starts, eyes still glued to the potion, that is slowly changing colour, but is most definitely not clear.
He’s pregnant.
Fuck, he has James’s baby growing inside him.
Regulus automatically reaches for his belly, his hand trembling as he places his palm against his still flat stomach. There’s life inside him. James’s baby.
“Reggie, what is this potion?” James asks, noticing the tiny red stain that his finger is leaving on his cerulean robes and lifting Regulus’s hand to check the wound. James frowns, then his eyes wander across the table, focusing on the ingredients still scattered on the chopping board.
Regulus wonders what to say, how to say it, but then James gasps, his eyes widening as he looks inside the cauldron and lets out a little sound, almost like a sob. He’s a trainee Healer—Regulus forgot for a moment that he would probably be able to recognise a pregnancy testing potion straight away.
“James, I…” he starts, waiting for him to say something, anything, as James still stares at the cauldron, waiting for the colour to set. Orange for a boy and green for a girl. Regulus is too scared to look. “I—I don’t know i-i-if you want this, but…I can leave if you don’t. I can find a place to stay, a-a-and I can…maybe I can go back to Grimmauld Place—”
“Reggie, what are you talking about?” James asks, his eyes so bright and smile so happy when it suddenly blooms on his face. “We’re having a baby! A boy! Look, the potion’s turned orange. Merlin’s pants, we’re having a baby…gods, I need to sit down. Let’s sit down, Reggie.”
James makes him sit down on a kitchen chair, but he kneels on the floor between Regulus’s parted knees instead, letting his face rest on his thigh and timidly lifting the hem of Regulus’s robes, to touch the bare skin of his belly. Regulus threads his fingers through his thick mass of dark curls and wills his heart to stop beating like a mad tambourine in his chest.
James is not panicking, he tells himself.
James looks happy. Over the moon about the news.
“Are you…” he tentatively starts, wetting his lips before he continues. “Are you okay with this? With me being—pregnant?”
Saying the word out loud makes it feel more real. Palpable in its certainty.
“How could you possibly think that I don’t want to do this together?” James asks, pressing a sweet kiss to his stomach, making Regulus blush. “That I don’t want you, and your baby. Our baby. Reggie, I love you with all my heart, and I want to spend my life with you.”
“But…I’m a man…” Regulus points out. “You could have anyone you wanted…you could have a normal life, with a woman.”
“It’s only you that I want,” James replies with conviction, and Regulus finds the strength in his heart to finally believe him, truly and without the shadow of a doubt. “And I want a family with you. We’re having a boy, Reggie! The potion’s turned orange.”
“I know,” Regulus says, finally allowing himself to smile as he looks down at his boyfriend and cups his cheeks, leaning down for a sweet kiss.
“You may not know, but you need two things for a male pregnancy to happen,” James says softly, kissing a spot just above his belly button and gently stroking his skin there, with so much love in his eyes that Regulus can feel it overflowing. “Both parents need to want it.”
“What?” Regulus asks, his voice barely a whisper.
“All the textbooks mention is intent,” James explains, pulling him closer and holding him, “but you actually need two men who desperately wish to have a baby for the magic to happen. And I know you’re convinced that it was only you, but I really wanted it, too. Really badly, Reggie.”
Regulus bites back a sob, blinking away the tears as he covers his quivering lips with his fingers and looks at the ceiling in an attempt to prevent himself from falling apart.
“Bloody hormones,” he mutters, but James only laughs and pulls him down for another kiss, murmuring how much he loves him.
“Your brother’s not the only one with a ring hidden in his sock drawer,” James whispers, wiggling his eyebrows, and Regulus lets out a loud and undignified sob, wrapping his arms around James’s shoulders and crying against the soft mass of his unruly curls.
He finds himself tearing up later, when James tells him that everything is going to be alright as he casts the right diagnostic spells on him to check if their baby is well. Regulus cries again when he tells Remus, who already knew anyway, and when he finally gets to tell his brother in person, weeks later, Sirius bursts into tears and hugs him so tight that James threatens to cast a body-binding spell on him if he doesn’t let go of his fiancé.
Regulus finds his old suitcase, covered in dust, and wonders if he will ever use it again. Maybe for their first trip together as a family, when the world is finally safe again, like it has never been before.
“What kind of name shall we pick?” James asks, kissing his belly in bed, an enamoured look on his face. Regulus is finally starting to show, but it doesn’t scare him; not when he has James by his side.
“Nothing weird,” Regulus replies. “And no constellations. My cousin Narcissa is pregnant, and she always said she was going to call her first son Draco. Can you believe that?”
James smiles at him and tilts his head.
“So something normal, then,” he says. “Nothing pompous or old-fashioned.”
“Certainly not,” Regulus replies.
“What about Harry?” James asks, and Regulus stills, looking at him.
“I like that. Harry,” Regulus murmurs, loving the way the name rolls on his tongue. “I like it a lot.”
“Good,” James replies with a grin. “I like it, too.”