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Chapter Text

The first thing James sees when he comes back home after his Quidditch training is Sirius lying on his bed, which in and of itself is not an unusual thing at all, seeing as Sirius has spent the better part of every single summer holiday so far at Potter Manor. What is very unusual, however, are the words with which Sirius greets him.

“Hey Prongs, have you ever considered taking my brother out on a date?”

James, who just dropped his sports bag, promptly trips over it, too busy gaping at Sirius and the question he just asked, so absurd and out of the blue it nearly forms into a visible, huge red question mark above Sirius’ head, to pay any attention to where he is going.

“Uhm,” he says, trying to regain his balance and also figure out what exactly it is he is supposed to answer here. “I don’t think I have?” he says carefully. He takes the Snitch he stole in his fifth year out of his pocket to fiddle with it, to give his hands something to do, to help him focus on whatever the fuck is happening right now, entirely not sure what to make of this situation. He waits for a sign that his answer was the one Sirius wanted to hear, a lot more nervous than he feels is just for the situation. Then again, this is Sirius talking about his brother, and one could never know exactly what to expect from a conversation like that.

To James’ relief, Sirius nods with satisfaction. The relief, however, dies quickly when Sirius opens his mouth again and says the last thing James could have ever anticipated from a conversation like this. “Start considering it now, please. I want you to take Regulus out on a date.”

“Excuse me, you what?”

“I want you to take my brother out on a date,” Sirius repeats casually as if he hasn’t just said the most absurd thing ever, lying on his back on James’ bed and watching the Snitch that had escaped James’ hand the second Sirius had made the ridiculous request the first time.

James stares at his best friend in disbelief, because what?

“If you ask me to repeat myself another time I will, but my request won’t change at all,” Sirius says before James can even open his mouth. He’s good at that, expecting James’ every move. They both are. Peter always says it’s because they share one single brain cell and he’s probably right.

“You want me to date Regulus?” James asks slowly.

Sirius sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up into the air. The Snitch flies around his fingers but he doesn’t reach for it, which drives James a little bonkers. It’s right there. Just take it. “No, Prongs. I don’t want you to date my brother. I want you to take him out on a date.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Sirius sits up and gives James a very stern look. “Don’t date my brother, Prongs.”

And now he is totally lost.

“Sirius for the love of everything I’ve ever known to be good please explain yourself. Pretend I’m really dumb and go about it slowly.”

Sirius grins and James prematurely rolls his eyes at him, full well expecting the “No need for pretending, then,” that Sirius gives him a second later. “Okay. So,” he continues. “I need you to take Regulus out on a date. Which is not the same as dating him, because dating requires continued taking out on dates and I think one should be more than enough. Also dating kind of includes feelings and I’d rather you stay away from feelings in regard to my brother.”

James nods along. So far it makes sense, only, “Why the heck do you want me to take Regulus out on a date?”

Sirius halts in his movements. “Ah, yeah, I realise now I should have probably led with that.”

“Probably,” James snorts. “Do tell, I can’t wait for your explanation here.”

Sirius lets out a long breath and James sits up straighter at the stricken expression on his face. “My parents found out Remus is my boyfriend,” Sirius says quietly, none of the nonchalance from before remaining in his voice.

“Oh shit,” James breathes out and immediately moves closer to Sirius, sitting down on the bed right beside him. The Snitch is still flying around above their heads and James wishes he hadn’t let it go earlier, because it is awfully distracting and does not fit the dull mood that has suddenly blanketed itself over the room in the least. “Did it go badly?”

Sirius hesitates for a second. James can’t stand it. It terrifies him, that second of silent suspense, always carrying that moment of the worst possibility with it. “It could have gone a lot worse,” Sirius says, which would be a lot more comforting if it wasn’t coming from Sirius.

“Sirius–” James says but immediately gets interrupted again.

“No, honestly, it was surprisingly okay. I mean obviously they don’t approve of it at all but I made it very clear that I don’t much care about their opinion and will date him no matter what they say.”

“And how did that go?” James asks with a wince.

“Well–” Sirius scrunches up his nose. “They found a way to still somewhat stop me without you know, like, doing illegal stuff.”

“You mean without murdering Remus or imperioing you,” James says dryly. “Honestly I’m surprised they stick to legal hexes. Good for them. I’m so proud of them.”

Sirius barks out a humourless laugh. “Yeah, focus on the positives and all that. Anyway, don’t ask me how they did it exactly but I now physically can’t go on dates with Remus anymore–”

“What?” James shouts.

“–unless Regulus goes on dates,” Sirius finishes. He gives James two thumbs-ups and a grim smile.

“Oh, you’re fucked,” James says, “Regulus will never.”

“Why, thank you, Jamsie, how nice of you to point that out to me,” Sirius says sweetly before punching James in the arm.

“Ow,” James complains and rubs the spot. “Twat.”

“Yes, well, this twat needs your help so please help?” Sirius asks.

“You punching me doesn’t really help in convincing me, you know?”

Sirius groans, then looks at James with huge pleading eyes. “Please? Because I’m your best friend and you love me?”

“Fuck you and your puppy dog eyes, we should have never become Animagi, it just made it so much more effective,” James pouts. “Fine. So tell me the plan here.”

Sirius grins and throws himself at James, hugging him tightly. “I fucking love you, you know that?”

James hugs him back. “I haven’t quite decided yet if the feeling is mutual.”

“Oh fuck off, Prongs.” Sirius pulls back and looks at him, but he grins from ear to ear so his words lose some of their effect. “Okay. So. Plan. You go on a date with Regulus. I go out on my Moony date. My parents will realise that their stupid idea of cursing me with only getting to date once Regulus does didn’t work out because look at that, Regulus also dates! They reverse the magic, Regulus can happily go back to refusing to date anyone, I can go back happily dating Remus, and you can happily go back doing whatever you had planned to do this summer. Quidditch, I assume.”

James nods. “Quidditch indeed,” he says. “Just out of curiosity, what happens when you try to go out with Remus?”

Sirius dramatically throws himself down on the bed again, arms flailing everywhere. James only narrowly avoids getting smacked square in the face. Luckily his continued Bludger-avoidance-manoeuvre-training gives him the foresight to duck just in time. Sirius is by far a better Bludger, though, and manages to swipe James’ glasses straight off his face without even looking. They should really implement a Sirius into Quidditch games in the future.

“I can’t go out with Remus,” Sirius laments, as James tries to relocate his lost glasses. “I thought they were bluffing, because what the fuck kind of magic even is that. But I can’t physically go out with him. Like, I’m basically running against a wall.”

James’ fingers brush against the metal frame of his glasses and he picks them up and pushes them back onto his nose. “So can you still meet up with him when it’s not a date?”

His regained eyesight is rewarded with seeing a pouting Sirius nod.

“So could you just pretend that all your dates are normal friendly meetings?”

Sirius drops his hands from his face and looks at James like he just asked if Hippogriffs can fly. “You really think we haven’t tried that?”

“I mean to be fair,” James notes, “It’s you we’re talking about here. You do fail to see the obvious solution half the time.”

Sirius snorts. “True, but I am dating Remus, who carries about half of the Marauders’ combined brains.”

James nods along. “Peter has the other half,” he confirms. “Forgive me my stupid question, it seems there was no brain left for me to have a reasonable thought with.”

Sirius reaches over to pat James’ leg. “You are forgiven, Prongs. You’ll be even more forgiven if you do me this very great favour of taking my brother out on a date and tricking my parents into reversing their curse.”

“You know when you say it like that I really don’t see a reason why I should do this. I’m already forgiven, I don’t need more forgiveness....”

“Jaaaaaaames,” Sirius wails and James laughs.

“Why me, then?” James asks curiously.

“What do you mean, why you?”

“Why do you want me to go out with him? Of all the people we know, am I not kind of a terrible option for this? I mean who in their right mind would even believe we actually want to go out on dates together, there is no way your parents will be fooled by this plan.”

“You just need to be very convincing,” Sirius says with a shrug that gets a little lopsided in his lying position.

“Seriously,” James says, purposefully choosing the word to get his friends attention, which instantly works, Sirius flashing him a wide grin, “don’t you think one of Regulus’ friends would have been a better option? Like very objectively speaking?”

Sirius shakes his head. “I thought about it,” he says and raises his hand to list off names on his fingers. “Pandora would have been my preferred choice, but she’s in Sweden for the entire summer holidays apparently, so that obviously doesn’t work. There is no point in asking Dorcas, considering she only just got together with Marlene. Also she terrifies me and I do not want to even have to broach the subject with her. Evan couldn’t sell the act or keep it a secret and while I have absolutely no doubt that Barty would be all for over dramatically and very convincingly fake dating my brother he’d tell Evan and then the entire world and more importantly my parents would know again.”

“So the only option is me?” James sighs.

Sirius mirrors his sigh. “So the only option is you. Plus I legitimately think if anyone can convince Regulus to do something as fun and casual as going on a date it’s you. You’re like the most annoyingly persistent person I know.”

James grins. “Ah, it’s always nice to hear how wonderful you think I am.”

Sirius sticks his tongue out at him and James’ grin only widens.

“You can look at it as some secretive prank on my parents,” Sirius suggests, immediately jumping back onto the topic at hand.

“I do like pranks,” James states the obvious, considering pranking is all they’ve been doing since their first year at Hogwarts. “I’m also very much interested in getting back at your parents.”

“So are you in?” Sirius asks, which makes James snort. Are you in. As if this is some kind of elaborate scheme to steal Something Important from Somewhere Important, and not a one-off thing, which, on top of everything, is doing some nice activity with a smaller, albeit snappier version of Sirius.

“Sure,” James confirms with a casual shrug and finally reaches up to pluck the Snitch out of the air, stuffing it securely back into his jeans pocket. “I’m in.”

Chapter Text

1 - I hate the way you tell me no just to disagree

Sirius is very insistent that James asks Regulus out as soon as possible. Really, if it had been up to Sirius, James would have instantly jumped into the living room fireplace and flooed over to Grimmauld Place and asked for a date in the same minute. But James is exhausted from his training and literally only just got the information that he is going to take Regulus Black out on a date like five minutes ago and Sirius, for Merlin’s sake, can you at least give me until tomorrow to think about how to do this?

In the end it’s the fact that James’ father calls them to dinner that gives him at least a bit of an out for now.

James is nearly halfway out of his room when Sirius pulls him back by his shirt. “No word to your parents,” he says urgently. “You can’t tell them.”

James looks at his best friend startled. “You want me to lie to them?” he asks confused.

“Not lie,” Sirius says. “Just don’t tell them at all. Please.”

“But I tell them everything,” James says stumped. He had already somewhat counted on his mother giving him advice on how to convince Regulus that fake dating him was a great idea. He had also already somewhat prepared to have to convince her that it was a good idea, because surely she’d tell him how utterly ridiculous the entire matter was.

“Did you tell them about the whole Animagus thing?” Sirius asks and that just isn’t fair, because he knows the answer to that. Of course James hasn’t told them. Not just because it was very much a highly illegal thing they did and could have easily gotten them all into lifelong physical problems (if not actually left them for dead, had they properly messed up), but it also was not his secret to tell. While Remus isn’t an Animagus, the rest of the Marauders becoming ones was solely for him and could barely be explained away without telling of his furry little problem.

Sirius of course recognises the thoughts going through James’ head and with an easy shrug says, “See, you don’t tell them everything, so don’t tell them this.”

“So how am I going to explain to them why I’m going on dates with your brother?” James asks frowning.

Sirius shrugs again. “Don’t let them find out about that in the first place?” he suggests. “I mean it’s not like you have to bring him to any dates in your parents’ living room. Besides, it’s only one date. Not dates. And it’s a fake date. It can’t be that hard to keep quiet about that...”

James scrunches up his face. It still feels like lying to him, somehow. But it’s Sirius’ problem and Sirius’ solution to his problem and if it’s for his friends, James will keep the truth to himself, even from his parents.

Sirius has to go back home after dinner, but before he leaves he makes James promise to come by his house in London the next day and get the plan going. There is no saying that Regulus has time for a date the very same day, but at least they can agree on a time to go out. Sirius even has hope that the mere prospect of Regulus agreeing is enough to have his parents reverse the curse, in which case the date doesn’t even have to happen at all.

James is a lot less hopeful about this, and really, he knows all of Sirius’ hope on the matter is nothing more than wishful thinking because his parents would never give up that easily. The fact that they cursed Sirius in the first place should have made that clear enough.

Sirius leaves with a tight hug for James and a broad smile on his face.

James stays behind with a tight hug for Sirius and a convincing smile hiding his uncertainty.

The longer the day goes on the more unsure he becomes of the whole plan.

Or rather, not the plan itself, because as far as pranks go this one is quite solid. The problem, rather, is Regulus Black.

Of course James knows that going on a date with Regulus is a one-off thing. On top of that, it’s a one-off thing that is fake. He knows it’s fake. Sirius knows it’s fake, because otherwise there is no way he would just let James date his brother without at least a lot of complaints. Regulus knows it’s fake so he should be alright with agreeing to this plan. But, and here is the but of the matter, it’s Regulus.

There must be a reason after all, why Sirius needs James to convince Regulus of this plan, because apparently Sirius proposing it to his brother had not been enough. And James knows for a fact that he can be a lot more convincing (probably just because he is a lot more annoying and a lot more more (too much, really) than Sirius so people tend to want to give him what he wants), but he also knows that Regulus is a lot more resilient to James’ charms (Yeah, James corrects himself with a little nod, his charms is what it is that convinces people usually).

Sure, Regulus is inclined to tell people off, but it seems to be James specifically he likes to contradict and turn away. So while Sirius’ plan of implementing James’ impeccable convincing abilities to get back at his parents is brilliant, really, it bears the one single flaw of including Regulus as a crucial factor.

How on earth is James supposed to convince Regulus that fake dating him for a day to help out Sirius is a good idea? What could James possibly point out to be in this for him that Sirius hasn’t already mentioned?

‘Helping Sirius’ is obviously not enough, otherwise Sirius wouldn’t need James to convince Regulus. No point in trying that then.

As much as James thinks about it, the only other thing he can think of is simply offering Regulus a good enough (fake) date that he can’t possibly decline.

So, next problem, figuring out what Regulus likes.

“Hey, Sirius,” James whispers into his half of their two-way mirror.

Silence.

“Padfoot,” he tries again.

Still no answer.

James tries calling variations of Sirius’ name for a solid ten minutes before he gives up. What was the point of having a best friend when he couldn’t even answer a bloody mirror call at two in the morning?

Dejectedly, James puts the mirror back onto his bedside table. He’d been trying to fall asleep for the better half of the night now with no luck. The prospect of having to ask out Regulus in a couple of hours, completely unprepared, intimidates him.

Maybe it’s just Regulus who intimidates him.

He had hoped that Sirius could tell him a bit about his little brother – things James doesn’t yet know about him – so that James could maybe come up with the best strategy to go about the entire plan. Considering this whole thing is Sirius’ idea and also serves the sole purpose of helping out Sirius (and maybe Remus as well, on closer inspection), one could think that Sirius, and not James, should be the one despairing over this at ungodly hours of the night.

Then again, it is Sirius’ happiness that depends on this, which instantly makes it James’ problem. Had it been merely a thing for himself (although in what context James would want to ask anyone, let alone Regulus, out on a fake date is beyond his imagination) James could have easily shrugged it off.

Things usually go his way if he really needs them to, and if he doesn’t, well, then he isn’t his own main priority anyway and there is no point in getting hung up on something.

Once it is about his friends (especially Sirius), however, then it’s of utmost importance that everything goes as it has to. Nothing is more important to him than ensuring his friends’ happiness. Which means that, despite Sirius being of absolutely no help whatsoever (Yes, James loves him and would do anything ever for Sirius. That doesn’t mean he can’t also be a little miffed about him not being up at two in the morning to help James scheme), James has to try to find a way to make a date an appealing past time activity for Regulus.

So the question is, what is it that Regulus finds appealing?

Being left alone, is the first thing James’ brain provides.

Not much of a help considering him being in James’ company is the essence of the plan.

Books, he thinks next.

That is certainly better than the first point. James is fairly certain people have dates that involve books all the time. The question is just how, because sitting still with a book he doesn’t already know he is invested in is not something James knows how to do. And also, does sitting together in quiet, not interacting with one another and only reading one’s respective book even count as a date? James somewhat doubts it. (Although Regulus might disagree with him on this. He probably would, regardless of his true opinion. Regulus simply likes disagreeing with James.)

So.

Disagreeing with James.

Also not exactly a great basis for a date. Although probably quite amusing, now that James thinks about it. Just the image of inviting Regulus over to have him listen to a presentation James prepared just so he would get some good counterarguments? He could get behind that.

“Fucking hell,” James mutters to himself. This shouldn’t be this difficult. This shouldn’t be keeping him up all night. He is getting progressively more frustrated with himself so as a last resort he decides, fuck it all, he’ll just revert back to what he’s best at – improvising. Tomorrow after his training he’ll pop over to Sirius and talk to Regulus and just see what happens. Hope for the best. He genuinely doesn’t know what else to do because how in the world does one ask out someone anyway?

Honestly, is the last thing that goes through James’ head before he falls asleep, Sirius’ plan is so very flawed all over.

James tells him just that the next day when he meets Sirius outside the Leaky Cauldron. It would have been so much easier to just floo directly into the Black family estate, but Sirius’ parents are strictly against visitors arriving in their home. And since James hasn’t passed his Apparition test yet and both his parents are out that day he has no other option than to floo into the pub between Muggle and wizarding London and then make the long way to Islington by foot. (The foot part is a decision on their end. They could very well take a bus for at least part of the way, but that just lacks the adventurous aspect of the journey.)

“You do realise that I have no idea how to ask people out and get a positive answer, right?” James asks, balancing on a little wall along the footpath. “The last ten or so times I tried that Lily told me to fuck off.”

“Yes, but Regulus isn’t Lily,” Sirius notes.

James snorts. “Yeah, true, but I don’t think he has any more interest in me than she did or is any less stubborn than she is. Why again did you think that I’d be the solution to your problem here?”

“’Cause you’re James,” Sirius shrugs easily. “You’re my best friend and you’ll find a way. I’ve yet to encounter a problem you can’t fix.”

James would never admit it, but that right there just feels a bit too much like a burden on him. Never having failed yet in that regard, for several years, only means that he’s never allowed to fail ever, because when he inevitably does Sirius is just going to be all the more disappointed in him.

But disappointing Sirius is simply not an option. And so James sends Sirius a flashing grin and two peace signs and jumps off the end of the wall to loop his arm with him as they walk. “Any tips on how to not get turned down by your brother?”

“Don’t piss him off?”

“You say that as if that’s easy.”

“Ahh, Prongs my deer, just be your charming self and I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Sirius reassures him, before tightening his grip on James and straight up pulls him into a little alley off the main street they’re walking on. “I need to celebrate soon being free of my curse. Help me pick out a good album I can give Moony for our next date?”

They both know that James is absolutely useless when it comes to picking out music. If he has to pick a record, he’ll go off of the picture on the front because he knows about as much about musicians as he does about astronomy, which is to say, nothing at all and Sirius would be better off trusting his own excessive knowledge on the matter. But nonetheless he lets himself be dragged into the tiny record shop, happy to give Sirius his very important opinions on his very made-up facts about every single record he inspects. Sirius did ask for advice, after all, but no one said his advice actually had to be useful.

They get to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place two and a half hours later, now packed with three new records, a bar of chocolate, and a stomach full of ice cream.

James has only been to Sirius’ home twice before. Friends are generally not allowed over, which is usually not a problem because Sirius doesn’t want his friends over where he lives. He doesn’t like the house and James gets it. Everything about it sure is grim and old and creepy and cold and not a nice place to hang out at and Sirius’ parents really don’t help to lift that unwelcoming atmosphere. The only reason James has been over at all is because Walburga and Orion Black are both very important and very influential people in many parts of the wizarding community and therefore leave the house often enough to their two sons.

The first time James came over he had been exited to finally see this piece of Sirius’ life that he only ever heard about in grim stories. That excitement settled quite quickly into something else entirely when he realised the stories hadn’t managed to paint even half the picture.

The next time James visited it was rather filled with dread and was solely because Sirius had been sick with something that refused to go away quickly with the usual medical spells and James had wanted to see his best friend again. The visit had been cut very short by Sirius’ parents coming home and literally throwing him out. That has now been a year ago, and James can’t exactly say he is looking forward to revisiting Sirius’ family home.

“You sure your parents aren’t home?” he asks.

Sirius nods. “My father is in Paris trying to negotiate with the French ministry on some new international magical security bill and my mother is at a charity event.” The way his voice drips with revulsion at the end makes it obvious he is in no way supportive of whatever charitable things his mother is doing. Which, fair, considering the kind of woman she is. “Reggie should be home already, I think he went to see Evan this morning.”

When they get into the house Sirius immediately calls his brother’s name. James waits for the affirmative reply but everything stays silent.

“Doesn’t mean he isn’t here, though,” Sirius explains. “Regulus usually doesn’t call through the house. My parents managed to raise him up proper.” He grins. “They kind of failed on my part, though. Come on, let’s go,” and he skips up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, his feet thudding loudly against the wooden planks as if to make a statement that he won’t bend to the quietness of the halls. The portraits on either side of the huge stairway give him judging looks and shush him, but Sirius merely raises his middle finger at them. James grins in approval and hurries to follow.

Regulus’ room is on the same floor as Sirius’, right across the hall. The previous two times being here James hadn’t paid it any attention, but as they now walk straight towards it he scrutinises it. It’s the same dark wooden door as Sirius’, only on Regulus’ there is a sign, neatly written in perfect letters, reading:

Do Not Enter
Without the Express Permission of
Regulus Arcturus Black

Of course Sirius straight up ignores it and simply barges into the room with a loud “Hello, Reggie!”

“I put the sign outside up for a reason,” comes an annoyed voice back from the inside of the room. “You could at least knock!”

“It’s not like I’d ever catch you doing anything interesting in here anyway, all you do is read,” Sirius replies unbothered.

James takes a tentative step forward. He doesn’t go into the room, that seems a bit much tempting his luck of staying on Regulus’ good side, instead he leans against the door frame to peek inside. Regulus is lying on his bed, a thick book he was obviously reading when Sirius interrupted him lying in front of him. At James’ “Hi” he turns his glare away from Sirius and onto James instead. “What is he doing here?” he asks coldly. Well, this was already going great.

“I invited him over,” Sirius explains simply. “And you should be a bit kinder, what would our parents say if they found out that’s how you treat a guest?”

“What would our parents say if they found out our guest was your blood traitor friend?”

“Touché,” Sirius laughs. “Luckily you love me and won’t tell them though.”

“Are you sure about that?” Regulus asks.

“Yep,” Sirius says, “you’d never snitch on me to them.”

“I didn’t question you on that part.”

It takes a second, but then Sirius gasps in mock dismay. “Reggie! Take that back right now, tell me you love me!”

“No,” Regulus says simply which makes Sirius pout and James laugh lightly. “There’s a letter from your boyfriend in the top drawer of my desk,” he continues to say, which makes Sirius’ eyes light up. “It came just after you left, I thought I’d hide it from mother, just in case.”

“Aww, Reggie,” Sirius coos, “I knew it, you do love me!”

“Shut up,” Regulus says with a roll of his eyes and turns back to his book. Sirius makes his way over towards Regulus’ desk in two adorable hops, and pulls out the letter from the top drawer, beaming widely. James recognises Moony’s messy handwriting on the front. He only now realises that, since the two can’t meet up with date intentions anymore that probably means all their loving sweetness and less sweet lovings are confined to only the written word.

Sirius presses the letter to his chest. “I’m gonna quickly go read and reply to this in my room,” he announces, already pushing past James, “I’ll be back in a bit!”

“Padfoot,” James complains, realising Sirius is quite literally abandoning him here, but to no avail.

“Have fun!” Sirius calls as he disappears into his own room, locking the door behind him.

James gapes at the door in disbelief. A heck of a best friend that was. What a prick. Unfortunately still his favourite prick, though. Defeated he turns back to Regulus. “So,” he says casually. “The A in R.A.B stands for Arcturus then? And Sirius always told me it was Aginolf. That is after he admitted he lied when he insisted your legal second name was Annoying.”

Regulus closes his eyes for a second before looking up at James, a murderous expression on his face. James grins back at him. When Regulus doesn’t answer, James tries again, “Do I have the–” he looks pointedly at the door “–express permission of Regulus Arcturus Black to enter your room?”

“What do you want, Potter,” he says coldly. Which isn’t a no per se, but it certainly isn’t an express permission either, so James sighs and makes himself more comfortable against the door frame. “Aw, I think we’re way past calling each other by our last names, don’t you, Reggie?”

“No,” Regulus says flatly.

“Hmm, well then I think we should change that quickly, considering you have a date with me this week,” James says easily.

If Regulus had been drinking something, James is sure he would have choked on his drink and coughed it up in that comical way people always do in those Muggle films Peter dragged the Marauders to last summer. “What?” he splutters instead, his cheeks pink.

“I heard we were going out together,” James repeats with a grin. “I’m flexible on the what but I thought you might like to join me for a regional Quidditch match, Ilkley is playing the Tornados on Saturday.”

“You can’t be serious,” Regulus says, a little more composed, although his cheeks are still darker than usual.

“You’re right,” James nods, “I’m James. Sirius is my best friend, which is why I’m asking you out.”

Regulus stares at him for several seconds, an unreadable expression on his face. Finally he looks away and turns his attention back to his book. “No,” he says again, his eyes fixed on the page in front of him.

James isn’t exactly surprised by this answer. Not only is it the only answer he has ever gotten when asking people out, but it also comes from Regulus, who has never once agreed to anything James has said before. On top of that, Sirius had made it pretty clear that Regulus wasn’t convinced by the idea in the first place, at least not when Sirius asked for this favour, which is why James has to be the convincing one at all. So really, James expected Regulus’ refusal. Still it isn’t a nice feeling to get turned down, even when it’s just for a fake date.

“Come on, Reg, please?” James tries again.

“Close my door, would you?” is all Regulus replies without lifting his eyes from his book, which leaves James with no option but to do just that.

Dejectedly James goes across the hall to knock on Sirius’ door instead. “Padfoot?” he calls. “Can I come in?”

“Give me a minute,” Sirius calls back.

Luckily it really is only a minute before the lock clicks and James can open the door, because standing in the corridor between the closed rooms of two Black brothers really isn’t how he likes to spend his time.

When James enters, Sirius is hastily shoving Remus’ letter underneath a stack of parchment strewn across his desk. James can only imagine what Remus wrote to him that he feels the need to hide the words from James. “Don’t worry, I won’t read it, I’d like to keep my innocence,” James says, flumping down on Sirius’ bed. It’s a lot less comfortable than the beds in their dorm at Hogwarts or even James’ bed at home.

Sirius snorts. “What innocence exactly is it you want to keep?”

James shrugs. “Regulus said no,” he changes the subject.

“Huh?” Sirius asks, before his brain catches up with the new topic. “Oh. That sucks.”

James nods. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“No, don’t say it as if you’re giving up!” Sirius complains. “You can’t just give up!”

“But he said no...”

“Uh huh, yes, but that’s Regulus. You need to catch him in the right mood and be a bit persistent. Don’t give up please?”

“You want me to go back to his room and ask again? Don’t you think that’ll just make him less likely to agree?” James questions.

“Yeah maybe don’t try again today,” Sirius hums. “But don’t just give up. I need to see Moony again.” He longingly looks at the letter hiding underneath the stack of scribbles and abandoned essays.

James gives him a pitying look. “Alright,” he says. “But how do I go about this best? I need your help with this, I don’t think I can convince your brother to go on a fake date with me without your insight.”

Sirius nods. “Yeah, fair enough. No more asking him out today, he’ll end up saying no just out of spite otherwise. I’ll– okay, I’m actually not entirely sure, but I’ll let you know when the next best opportunity is, alright? I think the next couple days at least one of my parents is most likely home at some point so I don’t know if you can come back to ask him, but I’ll figure something out. I just really really need you to help me here, Prongs. I miss Remus so much.”

James presses his lips together in sympathy. “Yeah, mate, I get it. We got this, it’ll work out somehow, I’m sure.”

James leaves soon after that, partly because it’s getting late and partly because he can tell that Sirius is really desperate to get back to his letter to Remus. Sirius promises to let James know through the mirror when he comes up with a new strategy, which means James can outsource his worrying about Sirius’ problem at least a little.

A couple hours later, after dinner, James floos over to Peter to stay the night at his. He used to do it a lot more frequently when they were younger, what with Peter being the only other one of the Marauders who had parents who were okay with sleepovers. But over the years, especially once Sirius had figured out a way to let his parents allow him to stay at James’, their sleepovers have become a lot less frequent. Luckily it was a mutual thing; James couldn’t have handled it if Peter missed their sleepovers a lot more than James did. They still love each other just as much, of course, but in the end they do have sleepovers practically every single day of the year considering they share a dorm at Hogwarts.

Peter once told James, both of them drunk on lack of sleep and the Chocolate Cauldrons Peter had nicked from his parents (that honestly tasted absolutely disgusting – whoever decided to put alcohol into chocolate should go straight to Azkaban), that he was rather glad to have a break from the Marauders over the holidays. Sleeping was a lot nicer when it wasn’t interrupted by James getting up at (according to Peter) illegal hours of the night for his morning run or the occasional night of Sirius and Remus forgetting to use a silencing charm. James couldn’t argue much with that.

“And you?” Peter asks, wrapped in a very fluffy blanket, after he is done proudly telling James about the two Muggle chess competitions he won in the past week. “How’s it going? Are you doing that Quidditch program again?”

James nods into his hot chocolate, the steam fogging up his glasses. “Fucking love that program. We’re mostly the same thirty people as last year, I guess there’s only so many people who want to play Quidditch over the summer. Matz, you know, that one dude from the German team that I told you about, the one who switched jerseys with me last year, he keeps trying to make me say squirrel in German, just because I asked him to say it in English once and he couldn’t properly pronounce it.”

“Britain, Germany, France and Denmark take part there, right?” Peter asks.

James shakes his head. “Sweden, not Denmark.”

“Why is it in England? Isn’t that geographically kind of a stupid place with the three other countries being in Europe?”

James laughs. “Peter, we are literally wizards. Distance doesn’t matter,” he says. “We have a collection of Portkeys to get everyone there. I think they’re just doing England because the people who founded it are from here. Plus it’s the language we’re doing the program in, so it makes sense I guess.”

Peter hums contemplatively. “Guess so... So everyone speaks English? And you really just play Quidditch all morning?”

“More or less,” James says. “Not everyone is great at English but there’s always someone to translate if there’s language problems so it’s fine. At least it looks like that to me. And there’s not just playing, really most of it is training. Kind of like what I do for Quidditch practice at school only a bit more intense. Kind of glad there’s a three-day break now though, today killed me.”

Peter laughs at that. “If James Potter, the most sport obsessed person ever thinks the training was too exhausting I don’t want to know how everyone else is doing.”

“Oh shut it,” James says, “I’m not that bad.”

“No, you’re even worse, who are you trying to kid here, Prongs,” Peter grins.

James rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it. In truth he rather likes this to be the thing he’s known for. At least his athletic abilities are something he works for and is proud of himself.

“What else have I missed? You saw Sirius earlier, right?”

James nods. For a second he debates whether or not he should tell Peter about the fake date he is supposed to go on. But Remus presumably knows about it, and Sirius does too, obviously, so only leaving Peter in the dark seems like a betrayal of the Marauders’ code. Plus, Peter is as great at keeping secrets as he is at finding them out, so there is no point in hiding it from him anyway. “I asked out Regulus when I was at Padfoot’s,” he says, shrugging it off as if it isn’t the most ridiculous sentence he has ever uttered.

Peter is less fortunate than Regulus was this morning and does choke on the gulp of hot chocolate he just took in. As he coughs violently, James can’t help but laugh at the comedic irony, but does lean over to clap his friend’s back in the attempt of clearing his windpipes.

“You did what?” Peter wheezes.

“I asked Regulus out on a date,” James repeats. Might as well play this up a little more. “But he turned me down.”

“What the fuck, James.” Peter is staring at him completely aghast and honestly, James can’t blame him for that. It would have been less weird had James announced he proposed to Dumbledore. “You asked out Regulus? In Sirius’ home? While Sirius was there?”

James nods affirmative.

“How are you still alive?”

James can’t help himself. He was trying so hard to pretend this was a serious thing, but at the shock written plainly across Peter’s face he bursts into laughter.

“No, please explain this, I mean you’re lucky enough Regulus didn’t, like, stab you or something, which honestly I would have expected from you asking him out. But Sirius? How did he just let you live after you asked out his brother?”

“Oh, it was actually his idea,” James explains and watches in delight as Peter’s confusion only deepens.

“Prongs, please, by Merlin’s jiggling butt cheeks, explain what the ever-loving fuck is going on.”

James snorts, but takes pity on poor Peter. “So, you know how Sirius can’t go out with Remus at the moment?”

At Peter’s furrowed eyebrows and slow shake of his head, James explains the entire situation. When he ends, Peter looks absolutely done with his life. “And you two thought the only reasonable solution to this was for you to take Regulus out on dates?” he asks incredulously.

“Fake dates,” James corrects. “And only one.”

“This is the worst plan I have ever heard. And Sirius literally proposed we become Animagi to spend one night a month with a real, actual werewolf.”

James points his finger at Peter excitedly. “Yes, and see, that plan worked out perfectly!”

“Oh Merlin,” Peter sighs and hides his face in his pillow. James thinks he might be trying to suffocate himself to escape the glorious ideas of his friends. “You’re ridiculous.” He re-emerges from the pillow, still alive, and looks back up at James. “This plan is ridiculous. In no way will it work out. No way on earth will Sirius’ Lethifolds of parents just lift their curse because Regulus goes on one date with you!”

James looks at him a little offended. “There’s nothing wrong with going on a date with me.”

“Yeah, I know that, but I’m sure the nobler generation of the Blacks would disagree with that.”

James shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out. Just you wait, I’ll prove you wrong.”

Peter huffs out a laugh. “First get Regulus to agree to this stupid plan and then we can talk, mate.”

It takes two days before Sirius’ voice comes through the two-way mirror. “Prongs. James. Mr Potter. Jamsieeee! Jamesjamesjamesjamesja–”

James fishes the mirror out of his shorts pocket. “What?”

“Are you free right now?”

He gives Sirius a pointed look, then looks at the spatula in his hand that he had been using to stir the onion in the pan on the stove, then back at Sirius.

“I take that as a yes,” Sirius grins. “I’ve the perfect opportunity for you to work on Operation Save the Hottest Couple in the World.”

“That’s a shit name for an operation, I’ll give you a T for that. Maybe a D for how much of a self-absorbed dick you had to be to come up with this incredibly uncreative name.”

“Wow, I can really tell you love me,” Sirius pouts. “Come up with a better name yourself then.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“So, you got time?” Sirius asks again.

“I mean... I’m making lunch right now, but after that I’m free, why?”

“Oh, okay, you might need to hurry up with your food. Regulus left earlier to go to his one fancy bookshop in the city, you should catch him there and try to convince him again. He’s usually a lot more pliable when he’s around books.”

James thinks back to the last time he tried asking Regulus out and the fact that in the end he got ignored for a book. It seems a lot more likely to him, that, given in a bookshop there are sure to be even more books, the possibility of James getting ignored will rise proportionally. But then again, it is Sirius’ brother, he must have some idea of what he is talking about. So James just shrugs and asks, “Where is it and how do I get there?”

To his surprise, the bookshop is in Muggle London. It’s a cosy place, walls upon walls of books with racks in the middle of the rooms to hold even more books. James expected to find himself in some orderly shop in Diagon Alley when Sirius had talked about Regulus’ fancy bookshop. There is nothing fancy about this place, and also little that says Regulus (with of course the exception of the great abundance of books). Remus would fit right into this bookshop, but Remus is also a chaotic grandfather who doesn’t know how to use a bookshelf in a way that doesn’t have all books lean at odd angles and toppling over one another.

James struts through the aisles of shelves, careful not to trip over any of the books piled up high for display around the floor. The shop isn’t exactly crowded with people, and yet it takes him a while to locate Regulus. He finally spots him in a tiny round room at the back of the shop in front of a high bookshelf with a metal sign hanging from it’s top, reading ’poetry’ in big, blocky letters. Regulus is so engrossed in the book he’s holding that, had it been anyone but Regulus, he would be hunched over, maybe sitting on the floor. As it is, he’s standing, facing the shelf, the window behind him at the far end of the room illuminating his profile.

James watches him for a while. Regulus looks lost to this world, like he’s not noticing anything at all from this reality. When he frowns and closes the book, James steps closer.

“Excuse me, Sir, can you help me perchance? I’m looking for a book I can gift my friend, I know she likes classical romance novels, maybe you can recommend something?”

Regulus’ relaxed posture stiffens ever so slightly and for a second James feels bad for him. That is, until Regulus’ grip on the book tightens in a way that makes it look like he is about to chuck it at James, and he feels a little worse for himself instead.

“James,” Regulus says tightly.

“Oh, first names! Does that mean you do want to go to the match with me tomorrow?”

The muscles in Regulus’ jaw tighten. “No.”

“What about something else? Doesn’t even have to be tomorrow, just sometime soon would be lovely.”

“Why are you here?” Regulus asks, which, again, is not a straight-out refusal to James’ proposal. However, a yes really would be nice.

“Oh, I’m looking for a book for Lily,” James repeats his little white lie. Until a minute ago he didn’t have any such plans, but he still owes her for the book of fairy tales she got him at the end of last term, so he might as well. “Sirius recommended this bookshop to me,” he says with a shrug. It’s not exactly a lie, he did recommend going to this bookshop. Only was the recommendation for acquiring a date instead of books.

“Of course he did,” Regulus sighs. He pushes the book he was reading earlier back into the shelf and turns away from James, walking to the other side of the room. James follows him, not yet willing to give up. “What’s the book you didn’t like? That you put back?” he asks.

“Poetry,” Regulus says, as if James hasn’t figured as much yet, “And I like it a lot.”

“Then why not take it home with you?”

“I already have it,” Regulus explains shortly, taking another book from the shelf he walked to.

James frowns. “You didn’t look all that happy at the book...”

“Because it’s a terrible translation,” he sighs and turns back to James. “The original French is beautiful and whoever translated the poems butchered them.” He pushes the book he’s holding into James’ hand. “For Evans,” he says, then walks out of the room and leaves a stunned James staring at the book in his hands behind.

When James finally catches his thoughts again, he hurries after Regulus.  Unfortunately he has an unfair advantage of understanding the maze of bookcases and little rooms so even after walking through every room twice (at least he thinks he does, with the overcomplicated floor plan of the shop he genuinely can’t be sure) he hasn’t found Regulus. In the end James has to admit defeat, but not without first buying the book Regulus recommended for Lily, and the one he had looked at when James first spotted him, even if the translation isn’t on par with Regulus’ standards.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Pads, but your brother is really bloody good at avoiding me and my questions of going on a fake date.”

Through the mirror James watches Sirius whine over dramatically. It’s a bit pathetic. James feels sorry for him.

“Do you think I can write him a letter? Or does that create issues with him or your parents?”

“You want to write to Regulus?” Sirius asks surprised. “I mean, sure, go ahead, I don’t think that should be a problem as long as you don’t, like, write super lewd things and praise all he blood traitorous stuff you like. My parents are probably not going to read it anyway, but you know, just in case...”

James laughs at the idea of writing Regulus letters that might be similar to the letters he knows Remus and Sirius are exchanging. “No, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it.”

When James packs the mirror away a while later, he grabs a blank sheet of parchment and his quill. He has no idea if writing to Regulus is in any way a smart idea for Operation Somehow Helping Idiotic Tossers (O SHIT for short. James is still working on the name), but to be honest, he doesn’t much care about that at the moment. The truth is, he had looked into the books he bought and now needed someone to talk to about them. Admittedly, the one for Lily isn’t really his thing; too old of a writing style and he got bored after literally the first two paragraphs. But to his surprise the other one, the poetry book that Regulus disapproved of, has a couple nice words. The fact that he likes them in English when Regulus said the translation has ruined them has him feeling a bit guilty for not knowing any French.

Hi Regulus, he writes, after you recommended those two wonderful books to me and then escaped a conversation ever so quickly I thought Id write you to talk to you about it since I never seem to manage to do that when were in the same room. that classic romance noval is a bit too classic for me, but I think lily will like it so thanks for that :) your poetry book is pretty neet tho but I need to know why you dont approve of the translation please

I cant exactly say that I get poetry, but I at least liked the sound of a couple of those I read, especially the one about wanting to do something in the world was really cool altho I dont really understood the montpernose thing.

Please enlighten me about how much nicer the poems are in the original frâncéisè?

Yours truly,

the coolest and best James youll ever know

He sends the letter without much thinking about it. The worst thing that can happen is that Regulus doesn’t reply, which isn’t all too unlikely anyway.

The best thing that can happen is that he does reply and gives James answers to all of his questions – which, to be fair, is pretty bloody close to impossible.

Well, things usually go James’ way when he really needs them to, and this time is no exception.

When James returns from the bathroom having changed into his sleeping clothes (which, really, only means he’s now wearing nothing but his boxers), his fathers’ owl waits for him, a letter tied to her leg. James excitedly leaps over to the window to let her in and unties the roll of parchment.

At first glance it’s obvious that this is Regulus’ reply. The parchment bears the same neat writing as that sign on Regulus’ door at Grimmauld Place, perfectly curled letters trailed across the page in straight lines.

How did you manage to fit that many wrong things into such a short letter? I refuse to waste my ink on trying to lecture you here but I cannot leave this as it is, so if you’re still free tomorrow, bring your book and I will explain it to you.

R.A.B.

James stares at the letter, reads it once, twice, then backwards, just in case he missed some hidden message that is actually meant to curse him, but it makes even less sense than the original message.

Can it truly be that he succeeded in asking Regulus out? By not asking him out? What in Merlin’s name...

Quickly, James scrambles for his desk to draft a reply.

Hi Reg!

So is this a date?

Do you still wanna come to the game with me? If so, Ill pick you up at half 10 at yours and we can watch the match and then talk poetry afterwards if youd like, Id love that!

lots of love, James :)

With an apology for not giving her much of a rest, James sends the barn owl out again. Anxiously he waits for her return, sitting down on the windowsill of the open window, staring out into the ever darker growing night sky.

It takes several hours before the owl returns. James gives her a pat on her little head before hastily opening the letter. The reply could have barely been shorter.

Sure.

R.A.B.

James can’t help the huge grin forming on his face.

“Padfoot,” he calls into his mirror. “Pads! Sirius my love, come pick up for Merlin’s sake!”

Sirius’ face appears, worry slowly wiping away the sleepiness from his eyes. “Huh? You okay, Prongs?”

“Oh, absolutely!” James grins and watches with delight as his next words draw absolute wonder onto his best friend’s face. “Guess who’s got a date!”

Chapter Text

2 - I hate the way you criticise my favourite poetry

What James hasn’t quite taken into consideration is the fact that he has to talk to his father about going out with Regulus. See, the thing is that going to regional matches is usually his and Fleamont’s thing. James has two tickets to the game because he had planned to go there with his father. So now, mere hours before the match, he sits with his parents on the breakfast table, not entirely sure what the best way to broach this subject is. Had Regulus agreed to the fake date a couple days ago this would be a lot easier.

“Uh, Dad?” James asks tentatively. Fleamont looks up. “You know how we said we’d go to the match together in a bit?” His father nods. “Uhm. Would it be okay if I went with a friend instead?”

“A friend?” his father asks curiously, drawing the word out in a way that makes it obvious he’s convinced James meant a little more than just friend. Euphemia also expectantly peaks up from her toast, mustering James knowingly with her sharp eyes. Maybe James’ diction wasn’t the wisest.

“You know, a nice Black and Potter get away...” James tries.

“Since when is Sirius a friend?” his mother asks with a small chuckle. When James looks at her he realises she full well knows that he was not talking about Sirius and just wants to see how he is going to talk himself out of this.

James clears his throat and takes a sip of orange juice to buy himself some more time. In the end he tries it with the truth. Or at least part of it. “I talked with Regulus about the game and he wants to go with me and I might have kind of said I’d take him without first checking with you if that’s alright. Sorry...” he admits abashedly.

“Regulus, huh?” Fleamont hums. “I didn’t know you two were such good friends that you would abandon your own father for him...”

“We got talking when I was at Sirius’ a couple days ago,” James equivocates and tries to play it off with a shrug. “So... would it be okay if I go with him?”

His parents exchange a look, some silent communication passing between them, something James only knows how to do and understand when it’s between himself and Sirius. Finally Fleamont nods and says, “Sure thing. Next time just let me know a little bit earlier, would you?”

James nods quickly. “Don’t worry, there won’t be a next time. Sorry again, I really should have planned this out better...”

“Don’t worry about it,” his father says with a laugh. “So is this the reason then you’ve dressed up so nicely today?”

James feels himself blush. He hasn’t exactly dressed up, he simply swapped his usual rather lose fitting t-shirts for one of his a little fancier, better fitting polo shirts. If he wants to get Walburga and Orion Black to accept him as a date for their youngest son he should at least put in a tiny bit effort. “I didn’t dress up,” he mumbles half into his glass of orange juice, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“Of course not,” his mother reassures him. “You look very handsome, wee Flea,” she adds on with a very audible smirk in her tone. The use of his childhood nickname doesn’t help the fact he feels somewhat bullied by his parents right now.

James finishes his breakfast in record time, just to escape this conversation as quickly as possible. “I’m gonna go, I said I’d pick Reg up at half ten.” The second the words leave his mouth he wants to bite his tongue. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut for once?

The reaction is instant. “You’re picking him up? How lovely.”

“Do say hi to him and Sirius from us, will you?” his father adds with a chuckle.

“Ugh,” James groans and practically flees the kitchen to get the poetry book from his room. When he comes down the stairs again, backpack slung across his shoulder, both his parents are waiting for him at the bottom.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use some Sleekeazy today?” his father asks him, scrutinising his hair. He never says it but James knows that secretly Fleamont is a bit disappointed his own son doesn’t want to use his hair potion.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Monty, the unruly look is what the kids like these days. I’m sure he’ll impress Regulus enough.”

“I’m not going on a date,” James huffs. Which isn’t even a lie. “I’m not trying to impress Regulus. I’m just going to watch a Quidditch match with him.”

“You always try to impress people, wee Flea,” his mother corrects.

“Yeah, well, I’m not trying to impress him any more than anyone else.”

Fleamont cocks his head. “Maybe you should, from what I’ve seen so far the boy seems like he is rather difficult to impress.”

“Fleamont! Don’t give him even more reason to be nervous about his date!”

“Not a date, Mum!”

“Yes, of course, you’re only watching a Quidditch match together,” Euphemia says little convincing.

“Thank you,” James huffs nonetheless and pushes past his parents. “I’ll see you later.”

On his way to the fireplace, Fleamont grabs his hand and pushes a few Galleons and Pounds into it. “If it gets too late, take the Knight Bus–”

“Dad I’m not a child anymore, I know how to get home.”

“–and get your boy some ice cream or something,” he continues, ignoring James, who goes beet red at that. “For fuck’s sake, Dad, he’s not my anything! And he has enough money to get himself his own ice cream! As have I, by the way, I don’t need you to give me more.”

“Just take it, James. Make it a good day for the both of you, you owe me as much at least for ditching me today.”

Unfortunately that tactic works on James. “...Fine,” he grits out and begrudgingly accepts the money and the clap on his back from his father.

In the end, despite (or maybe because of) the painfully frustrating and admittedly embarrassing conversation with his parents, James leaves over an hour earlier than he has to. He ends up aimlessly wandering through Muggle London, vaguely in the direction of Islington. Somewhere near the Leaky Cauldron he stumbles across a flea market where he gets lost between old comic books and bicycles. When he leaves his wallet is a little lighter and his backpack a little heavier, now holding one of those Muggle cameras Mary carries around all the time, where a photograph comes out instantly. The woman selling it had been very convincing that James definitely needs it. And, to be fair, James hadn’t been all too opposed to the idea, always having been very intrigued by Mary’s camera and jealous of the endless photos of their friend group she has hanging over her bed.

When he’s at the little park in front of Grimmauld Place, he pulls out the mirror to call Sirius, just as they had discussed last night.

“Yo, Padfoot, I’m here.”

Sirius is in his room, practically vibrating from excitement. “Perfect, I’ll get ready to go down a couple minutes after you talked to them. Good luck!”

That’s all James gets, after that he’s alone, has to face whatever awaits him behind that dark door on his own.

He takes a deep breath before he walks up the steps to the main entrance and lifts the heavy door knocker. The resulting noise reverberates low and loud through the wood, the last barrier between the busy London streets and the deathly silence of high rooms and dark corridors.

The door opens and James looks down at Kreacher, old and disapproving of guests coming to this noble house unannounced. “Good morning Kreacher,” James greets him, “I’m here to pick up Regulus, could you tell him I’m here?”

As a greeting, Kreacher musters James’ appearance displeased. “I will fetch for the Master,” he says, though, which James takes as enough of a success for now and thanks him, which Kreacher doesn’t acknowledge at all. Instead he closes the door in front of James’ face and leaves him standing on the doorstep.

James patiently, if anxiously, waits for the door to open again. When it does, it’s not Regulus on the other side though, it’s Walburga Black, a sour expression on her face.

“James Potter,” she sneers. “What do you want?”

James tries to look past her into the dark house, hoping to spot Regulus, or even better, Sirius, but no one is there. He really doesn’t want to have to talk to Walburga. Even if it wasn’t for the endless stories of her verbally and at times physically abusing her sons he wouldn’t be all that fond of her. The constant expression on her face is as tight as the knot keeping her hair back and the piercing grey of her eyes carries none of the warmth but all of the judgement her sons’ eyes bare as well.

“Good morning, Mrs Black,” James tries the friendly approach. What other choice does he have? “I’m here for Regulus, I promised I’d pick him up for our date. I think I might be a couple minutes early, I apologise.”

Walburga looks at him coldly (or just normally. James doesn’t think she can give any looks that aren’t cold) and takes in his shorts and red shirt. James knows his clothes are flattering on him, but she probably doesn’t care about that much, seeing as they’re still Muggle clothes.

“Regulus,” she calls out, not even bothering to turn her head, so really she just screams it into James’ face. He tries not to wince, but her shrill voice is hurting his ears.

A patter of feet sounds from somewhere out from the depths of the house, shortly followed by Regulus hastily coming down the stairs.

“You’re not to run in this house,” Walburga lectures him sharply when he comes to a halt next to her, a little out of breath.

“I apologise, mother,” he says. He eyes James, looking him up and down just as Kreacher and Walburga had done, only he does it with a lot less displeasure. James doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger on the undone buttons of his shirt.

“Hi,” James says with a lopsided smile. “Ready to go?”

Regulus nods, but as he wants to step around Walburga, his mother reaches out her arm and holds him back. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“The Quidditch match in Tutshill, I told y–”

“You didn’t mention you were going on a date,” Walburga interrupts him. “With a Potter, might I add.”

Regulus gives James a quick panicked look, which James doesn’t quite understand. The plan had always been to let Walburga think it was a date, so Sirius could go out with Remus. James had assumed that Regulus would have dropped that information to his parents already. But then again, judging from the seething look she gives James, he can’t quite blame Regulus for not wanting to do that on his own, and maybe James should have checked with him first how they’d sell it to his parents gently (even if James prefers giving Orion and Walburga the throwing-them-into-cold-water method to hopefully give them a shock that’d leave them a little closer to death).

Luckily, Sirius chooses that exact moment to join the conversation. He doesn’t seem to give a single fuck about the no running rule, as he even does it one better and takes the last four steps in one jump, landing with a loud thud.

“Morning, Prongs!” he calls delighted.

“Morning, Padfoot,” James calls back, the grin on his face comes easy now that his best friend is here.

“Did I hear correctly, my little brother has a date?” Sirius continues and goes to ruffle Regulus’ hair, who ducks out of the way and gives him a betrayed look. Sirius gives up and turns his attention to Walburga instead. “Now, mother, don’t you think that means it’s time to lift that silly spell you put on me?”

“Why would it be?” she replies. “I see no reason to. This can hardly be a date, I might expect it from you, but I raised Regulus better than to go out with a Potter.”

“I guess there is only one way to find out,” Sirius sighs, “have fun, Reggie. James, you better take care of my brother.” He pushes past Walburga, who only doesn’t manage to hold him back as well because her arm is still barring Regulus from moving. To her inquisitorial “And what do you think you’re doing?” he shrugs, grins, and says “I’m going on a date. You know, with my boyfriend. Remus.”

On his way out he high fives James and whispers him a quick thank you, before walking down the street so fast it only can’t be considered running because of the very bouncy skip to his steps.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Black,” James says, “but we really need to get going or we will be late to the match.”

James can see the muscles in her jaw tightening ever so slightly. It’s the only indication of how angry she must be about this situation.

“Please, mother,” Regulus says quietly. “It’s just a Quidditch match.” James doesn’t miss the irony in how he said the exact same thing to his own mother not even two hours ago, only, where Walburga looks like she wishes the statement were true, Euphemia had happily ignored that it might be so.

“We will talk about this later,” Walburga hisses, but thankfully pulls her arm back and lets Regulus pass.

Even after the door falls shut behind him Regulus doesn’t move. He just stands there, looking extremely unsure of himself as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt.

“Hey,” James says again. A new greeting now that they are alone. “You look lovely.”

“Thanks,” Regulus mumbles back in return.

“And thank you for agreeing to do this with me,” James says, “I didn’t tell you yesterday, but it really means a lot.”

A feint blush creeps onto Regulus’ cheeks as he shrugs in response.

“Alright,” James moves to the more pressing subject at hand, looking at his watch. “Our Portkey leaves in nine minutes, so we have to hurry a bit. Do you know a place where we can disappear unseen?”

Regulus nods and finally moves, pointing across the square. “Back there is a small alley with a telephone booth, it’s off the main roads so no one is ever there.”

“Lead the way,” James grins, “I’ll follow wherever you go.”

They get to the phone booth with three minutes to spare. It’s very little space inside for two people, but it’s only for three minutes and James has been stuck in tighter spaces with more people in his years of playing pranks on the school with his best friends, so he doesn’t mind. He pulls out the tickets for the match that serve as the Portkey to the stadium and holds them out for Regulus to touch as well. They stand there awkwardly, holding onto the paper, and James starts humming the Hogwarts hymn just to fill the silence stretching out between them and uncomfortably filling the cramped space of the telephone booth.

“Why did you just tell her it was a date?” Regulus asks with a minute of waiting left.

James stops humming and looks at him. “I thought she already knew,” he admits dumbfounded. “What with Sirius also wanting to go on a date with Moony today and all...” There is a small frown appearing on Regulus’ forehead. James suppresses the urge to press his fingers against it to smooth it out again. “Sorry, I probably should have talked this over with you first, how to tell her and all. You’ll be alright?”

Regulus nods jerkily. “It’ll be fine,” he says. “I just would have preferred if this could have been a–” the last words James doesn’t hear anymore over the wooshing in his ears when the Portkey activates.

James doesn’t like travelling by Portkey. Despite having done it numerous times over the holidays already, James doesn’t think he will ever get used to the tugging feeling on his guts as he’s pulled through space. It is nothing like the soaring feeling of freedom when he is flying, or even the very still whirlwind that happens when he travels by Floo powder. It feels like all of his organs are pulled into his finger connected to the tickets while he is simultaneously dragged forward and down. Luckily it’s over quickly enough and they land at the Portkey collection point near the stadium in Tutshill.

“Potter, twelve to eleven,” their arrival is commented.

The walk to the stadium is a short one and James finds them their seats on the upper ranks of the stand quickly enough. It’s not an important game in any way. Quidditch might have originated in Ilkley, but the team hasn’t qualified for the upper league since its formation in the 17th century, despite trying out every year. Which means that the outcome of this match is pretty obvious before the starting whistle is even blown. The stadium is still packed, though, especially since it is a home game for the Tornados who don’t have many, but very devoted fans.

The Tornados go into a lead fairly early on, and James uses the opportunity to criticise their play style a bit. “What the heck was that? You can’t tell me that feint wasn’t absolutely obvious to everyone. It was so clear he wasn’t going to catch the Quaffle.”

“Are you criticising professional Quidditch players, James?” Regulus asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Obviously.”

“Of course you are,” Regulus huffs. “I bet you also think you could have done that feint so much better.”

“Obviously,” James repeats and grins. “Just you wait, in a couple years I’ll show you. Just not here, because I won’t be playing with the Tornados. I’ll get into an actually good team.”

“Merlin, keep it down, James,” Regulus hisses, sending worried looks to the side. “You can’t say stuff like that when we are literally surrounded by hardcore Tornados fans, in their town. You’re going to get us killed.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it, if any of them ever actually paid attention to what anyone had to say they wouldn’t be Tornados fans anymore. They’re far too invested in Benson’s awful play to listen to me.”

Regulus lets out a shocked laugh. “You’re awful,” he says. “I’m not joking, one of them is going to hear you and I promise I won’t jump to your aid when they hex you.”

“I’m willing to take that chance. Bet I can shout the Tornados suck and no one will even look at me?”

“Oh, no, absolutely not! Don’t you dare,” Regulus warns him, grabbing James’ arm tightly and trying to pull him back down when he jumps up in preparation to fulfil his half of the unagreed bet. Luckily (or sadly, who knows) the Tornados choose that exact moment to score, which means James is now surrounded by even more people jumping out of their seats and his booing gets drowned out by loud cheers and the very unimaginative chant of “Tutshill Tornados! Sweep them off their brooms!”

James lowers his hand he had cupped around his mouth to amplify his hackling and grins at Regulus. Through the shouting he mouths a “told you so” at him and Regulus rolls his eyes. When it’s quiet again, he says, “That barely counts, no one could hear you– No, that’s not a dare for you to do it again, for fuck’s sake, James!”

James laughs but sinks back into his seat when Regulus’ fingernails dig a little too deep into his arm. “Then you should admit defeat and give me my winnings of our bet,” he states smugly.

“I never agreed to this bet,” Regulus huffs. “Your winnings are that you get to keep your pretty face unharmed.”

“Aww, you think my face is pretty?” James coos.

Regulus pulls his hand back, crossing his arms in front of his chest and stares intently at the pitch. “No.”

“Uh huh, I think you do, you think I’m absolutely stunning. You’re dazzled by my mere presence. It’s okay, I’m used to people fawning over me, I know I’m handsome. And my father thought you’d be difficult to impress, but here you are absolutely swooning over me, worried I’ll hurt my pretty face.”

“Piss off, Potter,” Regulus snaps, his face flushed deep red.

“I’ll wait with that until after you told me all about your poetry later,” James promises. “Oh! By the way! I brought something, hold up...” he grabs his backpack, rummaging through until he locates the Muggle camera. Luckily Mary explained to him in detail how to operate it so it takes no effort to snap a quick photo of Regulus, who is watching him with a confused frown. When the camera clicks and starts dispersing the photograph the frown only deepens. “What was that for?” he asks flatly.

James waves the photo a little until the picture starts taking form, then hands it over to Regulus. “For you, so you can prove to your mother that it was just a Quidditch match,” he grins, then he leans close into Regulus, and, smiling brightly at him, turns the camera around to snap another photo. “And this one you can give to her to convince her otherwise,” he says with a wink.

Regulus is wearing a beautiful deer in the headlights look, which, as a deer himself, James appreciates all the more. The Regulus in the photo looks equally taken by surprise, his cheeks still flushed as he looks at the grinning photo-James.

“Aww, you should have smiled as well,” James pouts a little, but hands the photo to Regulus regardless, who just holds it, not knowing what to do with it. “That’s alright, we can take another photo later if you want. I know you have a very beautiful smile. I’d quite like to capture that so it looks like you actually enjoyed going out with me.”

Regulus shakes his head slowly. “Sorry,” he says and clears his throat. “Yes, sure.” He carefully tugs the photographs into the shirt pocket right over his heart and turns back to watch the game.

James does too, even though he’s paid little enough attention in the last couple minutes to even know what the current score is. He keeps making little jabs at the players flying abilities, most of which he doesn’t even disapprove of. He only plays his criticism up for Regulus’ entertainment, or rather, to watch Regulus roll his eyes and call him a smart-arse who is too full of himself for his own good.

When the Tutshill Tornados eventually very predictively catch the Snitch, Regulus presses his lips together tightly as the crowd goes wild.

“Go on, say it,” James encourages. He knows what Regulus so badly wants to say but refuses to because that would mean he has to agree with James.

Regulus struggles for another couple seconds, but finally gives in. “That was an awful catch,” he says. “Yoran only caught that Snitch because it literally flew into his hand and he still nearly missed it. How are they still making it into the League.”

James laughs. “Careful there, Reg, someone might hear you and hex your beautiful face!”

“Oh fuck off, they’re all too full of themselves to realise how stupid they are, they couldn’t hex me if I showed them how.”

“Told you so,” James says complacent.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not a Tornados fan, you would fit right in with the bunch.”

James throws a hand to his heart, clutching his shirt in a mocking display of pain. “Ohhh, low blow, Reg, really low blow.”

For the umpteenth time that day, Regulus rolls his eyes at him, but James doesn’t miss the smile playing in the corner of his lips.

James takes Regulus to the bank of the nearby river soon after. They find a sunny spot on the grass near the water where they sit down. Or rather, Regulus sits down whereas James throws himself at the ground, spreading arms and legs out around him to properly take in the sun. “Man, sunshine is just the best,” he sighs, tilting his head towards said, his eyes closed. 

“The ants are already starting to crawl all over you,” Regulus says. “Are you sure you want to lie there?” 

“Eh, let them be. Can’t blame them, everyone wants to snuggle up to me.” He cracks one eye open to squint at Regulus, throwing him a blinding smile. Just to disprove his point Regulus leans further away from him, which makes James laugh. “I feel like if I told you you’d never cuddle me you would instantly lie down on top of me just so you wouldn’t have to let me be right for once.”

“I wouldn’t,” Regulus says dignified.

“Wanna bet?”

“...No.”

James grins and sits up slightly, resting his weight on his forearms. “Good enough for me,” he decides. “So, wanna tell me about poetry?”

Regulus sighs. “Where do I even start?”

“Tell me what was wrong with my letter!”

To James’ surprise, Regulus actually pulls the folded-up piece of paper James had sent him out of his pocket. When he unfolds it he frowns at it.

“Come on, there can’t possibly be that much wrong with it,” James pouts.

“All of it is wrong,” Regulus says. “All of it. And it’s only a couple of lines, how do you manage to do so many things wrong in such few lines? I’m surprised you managed to pass any of your classes so far if this is how you use your words.”

“Hey!” James complains, “I don’t just pass my classes, I’m top of the year in most of them! Well, with Sirius, obviously...”

“Pure luck,” Regulus says, then points at the letter. “Your spelling is atrocious. Not a single apostrophe in there. Not one! Half the punctuation marks you used went into that smiley face you drew.”

“Did you like it? I liked my smiley face.”

Regulus gives him a long look, but when he looks back at the letter he mumbles a quiet “It was endearing.”, which makes James happy. “The fact that you said the classic was too classic for you? What did you expect, James?”

“I don’t know, honestly not much, I stopped reading after a couple sentences I got too distracted almost instantly.”

Regulus huffs. “Of course you did. I’ll find you a better book. Something with lots of pictures, maybe, I’m sure the bookshop also has books for three-year-olds.”

“Much appreciated,” James says. “What else?”

“You called my poetry book neat. Oh, no, wait, neet. N-e-e-t.”

James shrugs. “I mean it was. I enjoyed it.”

“It’s barely a compliment, even less so because you misspelled it.”

“If you say so. Continue,” James demands with a grin, enjoying this take down of his letter a lot more than Regulus probably intended.

“You misspelled français so badly I don’t even know how to pronounce it.”

“Oh,” James sighs, “But it sounds lovely when you pronounce it properly. You should read me one of your poems in French later.”

“No,” Regulus says shortly, which is a tragedy that James decides will be short lived, because he will find a way to make Regulus read to him in French. When Regulus looks back at the letter again, his eyes linger somewhere at the bottom for a while longer than anywhere else, before he says. “You’re not the coolest or best James I know.”

“Excuse me?” James sniffs, properly sitting up at that. “You know a cooler James? Who?”

“There is a James in the year below me,” Regulus says.

“And he is cool?”

“No,” Regulus says. “Not at all. I don’t like him.”

“You wound me, Regulus,” James declares as seriously as he can make himself. “You’re killing my poor, very cool heart. Wait. Warm heart. It’s a very warm and loving heart but it’s wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket or something.”

“Your heart is Sirius?” Regulus asks, raising an eyebrow.

James gives this a second thought before coming to the conclusion that he likes Regulus’ inference. “Sirius is my heart and my entire world,” he agrees nodding.

Regulus gives him a pitying look. “That’s pathetic,” he says.

James sticks his tongue out at him. “Don’t insult the love of my life, Reg, that’s mean.”

“Why again are you not on a date with my brother right now?”

James sighs dramatically. “A very good question. He breaks my heart every day, leaving me for another man, so I’ve decided I just have to do with the next best Sirius-y person...”

For a second Regulus actually looks hurt at that but he hides his emotion quickly. Not quick enough for James to miss it, though, and so he leans forward, to bump his fist against Regulus’ knee. “I’m just joking,” he says gently. “I wouldn’t exchange Sirius for anything, which also means I don’t hang around you to get a Sirius replacement. I do think you’re pretty neat all by yourself.”

“Neat,” Regulus repeats indignantly, but his face does relax again.

“Is there anything else wrong with the letter? Or was that it? In which case I’d say I did fairly well overall.”

Regulus looks back down at the parchment in his hand and scans it for a moment, before saying, his voice filled with something akin disgust, “Montpernose.”

“I didn’t make that word up,” James defends himself. “It was in that poem I liked!”

“I still can’t believe that one was the poem you liked the most. I mean, of course it was, you’re such a walking Gryffindor cliché...”

“Thank you!”

“That was not a compliment, James. And it’s Montparnasse. It’s a quartier in Paris–” he pronounced it very French and James finds he enjoys the sound of it a lot “–and holds one of the biggest cemeteries of Paris, which is referenced in this poem.”

“They should have clarified that, I didn’t understand that part at all.”

“Poetry isn’t there to clarify things for you. You need to be able to read between the lines. The point is that it uses metaphors and rhythm and sound to explain a feeling or thing that cannot be explained with a simple description you’d use to talk to my idiot brother.”

“I guess that makes sense,” James says slowly.

“Well, it would make sense, if the translations in your poetry book weren’t absolutely awful. Half the meaning got lost because they didn’t bother to choose the correct words to translate it, they were too fixed on making it rhyme.”

“I still think it sounds lovely in English,” James says with a little smirk. “I really enjoyed it, I doubt the French sounds any better.”

Regulus huffs angrily and pulls out his own miniature copy of the poetry book from his pocket and leafs through it until he finds the page he is looking for. When he starts reading he still sounds a little angry, but James thinks that fits the poem, which is passionate and angry at the world and the injustice in it and calls for action, promises reaction. James doesn’t understand a single word of what Regulus is reading, despite knowing what the poem is generally about. Yet he is still absolutely transfixed onto every syllable coming out of his mouth.

When the poem is over, James just continues staring at Regulus’ lips, willing for him to continue. He is in awe, but mostly he is disappointed the poem is already over.

“Do you–” James clears his throat. “Do you want to read it again? I think I got a little lost halfway through...”

“You’re making fun of me,” Regulus notes.

“No!” James protests, “But I would quite like to hear it again.”

“I don’t want to,” Regulus says. “I don’t like this one. It’s too idealistic in my opinion. Yes, it points out how terrible the world is, but this poem is a hundred years old and the world is still terrible, despite the promises of doing something to change that. I don’t like it.”

“A hundred years isn’t much for change,” James disagrees. “And anyway, change is happening all the time. A lot has changed in the past hundred years, and a lot is still changing. And even if it wasn’t, the fact alone that people feel the need to do something to make the world better means a lot. I mean look at that poem! Someone so long ago wanted to do the same exact thing as I want to do today, isn’t that beautiful? That people have always believed there is something good worth fighting for, that with effort things can get better?”

“It’s sad,” Regulus says, “That’s all. Just sad, and maybe a little delusional.”

“It’s sad that you think that way. What’s your favourite poem then?” James asks curiously.

Regulus easily flips to another page but instead of reading as James had hoped he holds it out to him.

“I can’t read that,” James says, staring blankly at the page.

“Give it a go,” Regulus demands.

“You just want me to embarrass myself.”

“Yes,” Regulus admits easily.

James sighs and begrudgingly takes the book from him. “La meur s enne fish,” he starts reading slowly. He has no idea what it is he is reading or how to pronounce any of the words and by the way Regulus is laughing silently it’s obvious he is doing a terrible job of it. He gets about halfway through the very long poem before Regulus can’t take it anymore and stops him.

“That was terrible,” he says.

“I agree. I don’t know why you thought that was a good idea, I don’t know French.”

“You made that very obvious,” he says and gently takes the book from his hands. “Do you want to know what it’s supposed to sound like?”

James nods eagerly. “Yes, please.”

Regulus tugs a stray curl that had fallen into his forehead behind his ear before he starts reading. His voice is a lot softer reading this poem, and while James still doesn’t know what it is about, he still thinks it sounds absolutely beautiful.

When Regulus turns the page and James notices the poem is nearly over, he gets the sudden need to keep this moment forever, to make it immortal. Quietly, slowly as not to distract Regulus he reaches into his bag to pull out his camera. When he presses the release, the click makes Regulus look up in the middle of a line.

“Sorry,” James whispers. Anything louder than that would destroy the magic of the moment. “Please continue.”

Luckily Regulus does and James is once again entranced. When he finishes the poem, neither of them say anything for a while, only listening to the gurgling of the river and the chirping of the songbirds in the surrounding trees and chasing after the sound of the last of Regulus’ words. It is James who finally breaks the silence between them. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. “That was really beautiful.”

There is a small smile playing around Regulus’ lips. “I’m glad you liked it,” he says, then nods at the photograph in James’ hands. “Another photo to convince my mother of the nature of our rendez-vous?”

“No, this one is for myself,” James explains. “Maybe it’ll teach me some French.”

They stay out by the river until the sun gets too much and James’ suggests they get back to town to buy some ice cream. When Regulus reaches into his pocket to pay himself James waves him off. “Don’t worry about that, I had to promise my father I’d get some for you,” he says as he hands the cashier the money for both their cones. 

“You told your parents about this?” Regulus asks surprised. 

“I mean to be fair, my parents just assumed it’s an actual date and there wasn’t much I could do to convince them otherwise. I suck at lying to them so I was mostly avoiding questions to not have to tell the truth and all, you know?” 

Regulus nods slowly. “That makes sense. I just didn’t expect you to tell them about me...” 

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re Sirius’ brother, it’s not like they’ve never heard of you before.” 

Regulus looks deep in thought as he eats his ice cream. “Honestly, I’m surprised Sirius is so okay with this...” he says after a while. 

James laughs. “Yeah, I was as surprised as you. But I guess he just really wants to see Remus again, otherwise he would have probably instantly bitten my head off if anything like this had ever happened.” 

“Idiot,” Regulus mutters. 

“Can’t argue you on that,” James agrees. “But my favourite idiot.” 

“You two are so unhealthily codependent.” 

“I think it’s very healthy actually,” James grins. “We need each other, otherwise one of us would always walk around without any brain cells, as Peter always says.” 

Regulus nods in agreement. “I feel like I would get along with Peter. You should properly introduce me some time.” 

“I don’t know if I should, what if he ends up liking you more than the rest of us and betrays our Marauders’ friendship for yours?” 

“That’s simply a risk you’ll have to take. I thought you were all for adventures and the unknown, Mr. Gryffindor.” 

“I mean, yes, but I’m also all for keeping my friends,” James argues. “But I guess I’ll just have to somehow keep you around as well so Peter doesn’t have the chance to run too far away.” 

There is a faint blush across Regulus’ cheeks when he mumbles, “I’d like that.” 

James grins and gently nudges their sides together. “Yeah, me too. This was nice. Should we take another photo to convince your parents of how wonderful and date-like our date was?” 

“You sound like Sirius,” Regulus says darkly, but signals his agreement with a shrug. 

“Alright, hold up, I’m gonna...” James stops a man in a very impressive top hat walking past. “Excuse me Sir, could you take a photo of us?” 

“James,” Regulus hisses, but doesn’t elaborate on what James is doing wrong now.

Luckily the stranger agrees, and after James quickly explains to him how to operate the camera, he skips back to Regulus and wraps his ice cream-free arm around his waist. “Now, Reggie, this time look a little happier please? I don’t want your mother to think I torture you while you’re out with me, I want her to have a terrible image of me after all,” James asks, trying to look at Regulus the same way Sirius always looks when he tries to get something from someone. Regulus blushes adorably. 

“Ready?” the top hat man asks. James gives him a thumps up. “I’ll count down from three! Three, two–” at one James gets the stupid (or rather brilliant, but most of his ideas usually fall into both categories anyway) idea to lean over and kiss Regulus’ cheek. If they’re trying to sell the act, might as well do it properly. 

As soon as the camera clicks, he pulls back to rush over to the stranger and accept the photograph and camera back. “Thank you, Sir!” James calls to him. 

“You’re very welcome. Have a nice day, lads!” the man makes his farewells. 

James inspects the photo as he walks back to Regulus. The Regulus on the photo smiles, alright, but he also looks vaguely panicked with James’ lips pressed to his cheek. But it’s unnoticeable enough, overall James thinks they look couple-y enough to anyone who doesn’t know the truth. “Sorry, I didn’t want to spook you. It’s still a cute photo though,” James informs Regulus. When he looks up, Regulus is still rooted to the spot, looking just as spooked as on the photo. “You okay, Reggie?” James asks concerned. “Uh, should I have not done that? Sorry, I’m so used to kissing all my friends all the time it didn’t occur to me that you might not be used to that?”

Regulus shakes his head. “No, it’s– It’s fine. Just took me by surprise there for a second.” He takes the photo James is still holding out to him and looks at it for a while. “It’s nice,” he says at last. “You look very– it’s nice.” He quickly tucks the photo into the pocket with the others.

James is still looking at him a little puzzled. “You sure you’re okay? I didn’t overstep some kind of boundary? I realise now we probably should have talked about that first...”

“You’re good, James,” Regulus says with certainty this time.

James nods relieved. “Okay, I’m glad. If I ever do anything you don’t like don’t hesitate to tell me to fuck off please.”

“I usually don’t hesitate to do that, don’t worry,” Regulus says dryly.

James laughs and the short tense atmosphere passes.

Chapter Text

3 - I hate it when you’re quiet and won’t let me understand

“And? How insufferable was my brother?” Sirius asks that night, lying on James’ bed. When James had dropped Regulus off at Grimmauld Place earlier, Sirius hadn’t been back home yet, still busy with his long awaited Moony date. But later, once the house had quieted down, he had snuck out to floo over to James and update him on everything.

“Surprisingly not insufferable at all,” James admits. “It was really fun, to be honest. I got him to read some French poetry to me and I must say, I get Moony now.”

“What do you mean you get Moony now?” Sirius asks furrowing his eyebrows.

“Uh, never mind, I vaguely remember Moony telling me not to mention this in your presence,” James dodges the question. 

“Ohhh, no, Prongs, now you have to! What did he say?” Sirius pleads.

“Let’s just say Remus doesn’t hate you speaking French as much as he wants you to believe...” James sighs. “But don’t tell him I said that!”

Sirius face lights up. “He likes it when I speak French?”

“I never said that,” James grins.

“Of course you didn’t,” Sirius nods solemnly, “This might just be something I’ll have to investigate a little more closely for myself. Next date.”

“So your mother removed the curse?” James asks hopefully.

Sirius expressions shifts into a grimmer one. “No. She took one look at me when I got back and started screaming bloody murder.”

“Wonder why...” James says, pointedly looking at the assortment of bruises along Sirius’ neck. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Hey, but you said you had fun with Regulus, right?” Sirius asks peaking up slightly. James nods. “Then everything might not be lost just yet!” he proclaims dramatically. “You can have some more fun, and I can have some more fun!” He wiggles his eyebrows at James.

“You want me to go on another date with Regulus?” James asks.

“Fake date,” Sirius corrects instantly. “And only if you’re up for it, but I’d appreciate that a lot. Just until she sees her wrongs and finally lifts her curse. I can’t imagine she wants her youngest son to go out with a Potter only so I can go out with a very sexy halfblood all the time, she’s bound to give up eventually.”

James shrugs. “Sure,” he says, “If Regulus is alright with it I don’t mind. Surprisingly enough I enjoy having him insult me and all my opinions every couple seconds, it’s endearing.”

Sirius barks out a laugh and pats James’ head. “You have some serious issues, Prongs. I’d love to look at your brain someday, I really want to know what’s going on there.” 

“Tell me what you find when you do, I’m also curious,” James grins. “So you think Regulus will be okay with it?”

“I don’t see why not. I can ask him if he’s up for it?”

James nods. “Sounds like a plan. So, your Moony date? With sparing me all the unnecessary details, what did you get up to?”

“Well,” Sirius says with his worst shit eating grin, “I got to his and luckily very quickly lost all my clothes, and Remus used his–”

“OKAY!” James interjects and pushes a pillow into Sirius’ face, drowning out his very descriptive retelling filled with all the unnecessary details about every single part of Remus’ body James might have once been very desperate to know about a couple years ago, but certainly not anymore.

James leaves the house the next morning before Sirius even makes it out of James’ bed. He left his best friend with a pat on the head and the promise that he’d let him know about any developments on Operation Padfoot’s Relationship Is Currently Kaput, before he left for another day of training in the international summer Quidditch program.

It’s a good morning of training, although it leaves James’ arms and abs extremely sore. But he ends up chatting a lot more with Matz who invites him to come stay with him in Germany for a few days once the program is over, which James thinks is a brilliant idea.

When James comes home a couple hours later Sirius is gone, but in his stead lies a letter from Regulus.

Hello James,

Sirius told me he’s supposed to ask me out again on your behalf. I’d rather you do it yourself, going through Sirius for this feels a little too close to the Black family traditions I’m trying to avoid.

But in case you do want to ask me out on another date, I don’t have anything planned for Thursday afternoon yet.

R.A.B

It’s a nice surprise to come home to, really, and it takes James no time to formulate a reply to send back to Regulus.

Hi Reg

You up for a picnick at the sea? Ill pick you up at 6 if ur good with that

In case you dont wanna send back an owl I dont mind if you tell Sirius, he has a quicker way of communicating with me :)

JP

When the letter is sent, James lets Sirius know about his next chance to take Remus out.

“Don’t tell Regulus though, for some very weird reason I cannot comprehend at all he doesn’t like you asking him out,” James says in pretend confusion.

“Ahh, my poor mother... First she has to find out I’m dating a halfblood, then that Regulus is dating a Potter and on top of that her own sons don’t even want to be in a relationship with each other! All her life’s work for naught!” Sirius dramatically throws the back of his hand to his forehead, pretending to faint, which makes James topple over with laughter. When Sirius awakens from his unfortunate unconsciousness, he grins at the mirror. “Thanks though, for all of it. I had no doubt in your abilities to convince my brother of this plan but I must admit I am a bit surprised by how willing he is to keep going along with it.”

“Guess I’m just that charming and irresistible.” James winks at Sirius. “Maybe all the fantasising about going on dates with Lily I did in fifth just made me an expert on how to make dates appeasing to people who are incredibly annoyed by my presence.”

Sirius shakes his head fondly. “Well, I’m glad your daydreaming paid off after all. Your efforts of giving my brother a couple hours he enjoys enough to trick our mother into letting me see my boyfriend are very appreciated.”

“I know,” James says. “And just so you know, you owe me big time.”

“When the time comes, Prongs,” Sirius says, “I will repay you greatly.”

Picking up Regulus this time is a lot nicer than the time before, mainly because the house is void of either parent.

“I owe you, Reggie,” Sirius promises his brother, one foot already in the fireplace on his way to Remus.

“I’m not doing this for you,” Regulus says coldly.

“’Course you’re not,” Sirius grins. “It’s all James, obviously. No one can resist his fun times for long.”

Regulus glares at him but Sirius doesn’t mind in the least. He blows a kiss to both his brother and James before he gets swallowed up by green flames, pulling him into some other part of Great Britain where his boyfriend awaits him.

They both watch as the fire simmers back down to its natural orange flames before James asks, “Ready to go as well?” 

“Yes please,” Regulus sighs. He holds out the container (pure silver, James assumes, because why would you store Floo Powder in anything else) for James to take a handful of the green dust. “See you in a bit,” James says before throwing the powder into the fireplace, following with a quick command of where to go, and letting the whirlwind of green flames consume him. 

A couple minutes later Regulus joins him in a small cottage in the south-west of England. It’s a little souvenir shop James is sure no one ever uses for anything but the Floo network judging by the thin layer of dust coating all the shelves and little trinkets. He pays the shop keeper the six Knuts it costs to come through his shop before leaving, Regulus close behind, for the sunny outside world. 

Even from here James can already smell the sea, the salty wind tugging at his hair and tousling it up nearly as well as he usually does it himself. It’s a bit of a walk from the souvenir shop down to the beach, but James doesn’t mind at all, skipping along the footpath and urging Regulus to do as him. (He doesn’t. He plainly refuses to run or skip or jump from stone to stone as James does, which leaves James having to wait for him every couple skips.)

“You need to run, Reg! Enjoy the sun!”

“I can enjoy the sun just fine without running,” Regulus retorts.

“Yes, but it’s easier to enjoy when you let all your enjoyment out with some energy. You gotta jump up and down and spin around every now and then, it’ll make you happier!”

Regulus rolls his eyes. Of course he rolls his eyes. “You’re plenty happy for the both of us, I’ll leave the embarrassing yourself to you, thank you.”

“I’m not embarrassing myself,” James says confused. “There isn’t even anyone around I could embarrass myself in front of.”

Regulus gives him a long look before raising an eyebrow. “I’m here,” he says when it becomes apparent that James doesn’t understand what he’s hinting at.

James pouts. “You think I’m embarrassing?”

“Yes,” Regulus says shortly, but there is a hint of something soft, something like fondness in his voice, so James doesn’t fully believe him. Instead he grabs Regulus hand and starts running, pulling Regulus along – or rather he tries as much, since Regulus is extremely stubbornly not moving faster than a Grindylow on land. Eventually James gives up and lets go of his hand. “One day,” he says, “one day I will get you to run with me.”

They find a nice spot on the beach, far enough away from the sea that they’re safe from any bigger waves coming in but close enough that James is tempted to just run in. He unpacks his backpack, lying a picnic blanket on the ground and arranging the variety of foods he brought along on top of it. When he’s done he gestures invitingly at the blanket, urging Regulus to sit. “Dinner is served, Monsieur,” he says in his best posh accent.

Regulus scoffs but sits down. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m groovy is what I am,” James grins and sits down opposite Regulus.

“Nobody says groovy anymore. This instantly refuted your entire point.”

James sticks his tongue out at Regulus. “No, sod off, groovy is a groovy word. I don’t know why we stopped saying it. Peter and I are trying to keep it alive but the general public refuses and I don’t get it.”

“For once the general public is right.”

“You only say that because you want to disagree with me,” James pouts. “I bet you also say groovy all the time when I’m not around.”

“Absolutely not,” Regulus says scandalised. “You would not catch me dead saying that word.”

“Yeah, well, dead you wouldn’t say much else either.”

Regulus glares at him but stays quiet and James knows he’s won this round. Regulus made a mistake in his arguing and James caught it. He grins widely at Regulus, picks up a grape from the pile of food, throws it in the air and catches it in his mouth.

“Show off,” Regulus mutters under his breath.

James quickly swallows and points an accusing finger at him. “I heard that!”

“Good. Someone needs to shoot down that oversized ego of yours.”

“You’re so mean to me, Reg,” James complains with a grin.

“And yet you’re still going out with me.”

“Yeah, I mean why would I want to take out someone who actually likes me, can you imagine?”

“You couldn’t find anyone anyway,” Regulus huffs.

James laughs and points a finger at Regulus. “Oh, see, that there! Who even needs affection when I can have blind hatred?” He picks up another grape and throws it at Regulus, who easily catches it out of the air.

“I can’t believe you’re calling my hatred blind when you’re the one who can’t see without glasses,” Regulus retorts before popping the grape into his mouth.

“It’s obviously because I’m the expert on blindness,” James argues. “I know blindness when I see it. Or rather not see it, I guess.”

“If you say so...”

James widens his eyes and throws his hand to his chest. “Did you just agree with me?” he gasps.

“I’d never do such a thing,” Regulus deadpans, “You must have misheard.”

James laughs. “You’re lucky I have a thing for people who contradict me all the time, otherwise no one would ever believe we’re actually dating. Oh, apropos! Are you fine with more photos?” James points at his backpack where the camera is still stored away. “You look very lovely, I think it’d be a shame if we let this opportunity of very convincing photos pass.” 

“Lovely?” Regulus asks unsure.

“The sun suits you,” James says happily, which for some reason evokes a deep blush across Regulus’ cheeks. “So? What do you say?”

Regulus shrugs. “If you want...”

“I do,” James says and reaches for his camera. “Just sit there and be pretty, shouldn’t be all that difficult for you.”

Regulus glares at him in reply.

“Perfect,” James grins and lifts his camera. Before he can take a photo Regulus moves, leans back on his hand, lifts his face towards the sun and actually smiles. James quickly presses the release before Regulus changes his mind because this – James has to admit that Regulus like this looks absolutely ethereal. His soft dark curls have a silver shine in the sunlight, which also make the light freckles across his nose stand out a little more clearly. And his smile – a rare sight, really, so James savours it all the more – his smile lights up his entire face more than any sun ever could. James glances at the photo and notices with relief that it captured Regulus’ beauty nearly perfectly.

“You really outdid yourself with sitting there and being pretty,” James contemplates. “If you show this to Sirius he might as well die from jealousy over the fact that he’s no longer the prettiest Black.”

“Very tempting,” Regulus says and reaches for the photo to inspect it himself. “It’s alright, I guess.”

“Excuse me?” James demands. “That photo isn’t alright. It’s bloody gorgeous is what it is. I mean look at yourself there. Plus my photography skills are great, don’t insult them.”

“Of course,” Regulus huffs. “Do you want to keep it then?”

James contemplates it for a second. It’d be smart to show every photo they can to Sirius’ parents. The more they have the more convincing it would be and the quicker they can stop their fake dating scheme. But at the same time, this one doesn’t exactly scream date. It is just a very beautiful photo of Regulus and James is very tempted to keep it for himself. He wanted to start a proper collection of photos of his friends anyway, and this one would do nicely. Even if James isn’t entirely sure if he’s already at a stage where it’s okay to call Regulus his friend. James would call him that, but James usually calls everyone his friends after about half a conversation. For all he knows Regulus still despises him and only goes out with him to do his brother a favour and get some nice food and free Quidditch tickets in the process.

But, well, at some point James could surely convince Regulus to be his friend and for that moment in the future it couldn’t hurt to have a very flattering photo of him somewhere in his possession. So in the end James accepts the photo back from Regulus’ outstretched hand and carefully tucks it into the front pocket of his backpack.

“Feel free to also take photos as well, by the way,” James says. “If you like what you see and think it’ll work, don’t hesitate to capture it. Don’t hold yourself back!” James demonstratively places the camera down in the middle of the blanket and takes a bunch of grapes instead, starting to pick them off one by one, throwing them in the air and catching them in his mouth. Maybe he is showing off a little, so what of it?

Regulus watches him for a while with raised eyebrows, before he gives him a slow once over and reaches for the camera. The idea that his grape trick is what Regulus ‘likes to see’ makes James chuckle and immediately drop a grape on his face instead of in his mouth, which is of course the exact moment the camera clicks.

“Aw, man, you didn’t capture my cool skills,” James laments.

Regulus looks down at the photo in his hands. “I captured your true idiotic essence, which is a lot better,” he decides and just like last time tucks the photo into his shirt pocket.

“Take another photo where I actually catch a grape,” James demands.

“No,” is the short but decisive reply.

James certainly doesn’t pout at that.

They spend the next hour eating more or less in silence (more less, in James’ case, who doesn’t really know how to shut up and talks about this and that, mostly his friends and his Quidditch program with the occasional comment from Regulus).

After most of the food is gone, James looks longingly at the sea. The sun is still up, it’s still warm enough, and there is enough wind to give perfect waves... “Do you wanna go for a swim?” he asks on a whim.

“What?” Regulus asks startled.

James points at the water. “Wanna join me? I’m gonna go in.”

“You brought swimming trunks?” Regulus asks perplexed.

“Nope,” James says and already takes off his shirt. Regulus gapes at him, his eyes scanning James’ chest and stomach before he turns beet red and quickly looks away. “I’m good,” he mumbles.

“You sure?” James probes and gets up to take off his shorts. Regulus nods and resolutely doesn’t look his way. James shrugs. “Alright, don’t get bored without me,” he calls and sprints, now only wearing his boxers, towards the sea.

The water is rather cold, but James is used to it considering he hasn’t taken a warm shower since he started playing Quidditch regularly, which is to say since he was practically a toddler. He is incredibly thankful for the existence of magic when he dives into the waves, his glasses still firmly fixed to his face and unaffected by the salt water. He has no idea how he would be able to ever go for a swim if he had to take his glasses off for it. He’d probably drown mistaking the horizon for the beach.

James jumps over waves and dives under them until it gets too cold for even him and he decides he should maybe grace Regulus with his company again. On his way out of the water he spots a perfectly round, flat stone. He considers it for a moment, then picks it up and tries to skip it across the surface of the sea. It immediately gets eaten up by a wave, though, and sinks before doing a single jump. A bit disappointed, especially considering that usually James is great at skipping stones, he ignores another flat stone and instead picks up a smooth red and green striped one. Turning it around in his fingers he makes his way back to Regulus.

A few feet away from the picnic blanket he calls, “Here, catch!” and throws the stone in a high arch towards Regulus. He startles and drops the camera he had been holding into his lap in favour of catching the stone. He inspects it, then looks up at James. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Keep it, if you want,” James says, shaking the water out of his hair. “It’s a Gryffindor Slytherin stone, I thought you might like it now that you’re forced to spend all your time with me.”

When James feels like shaking his head any longer won’t dry his hair any more he looks at Regulus and finds him openly staring at him, his lips slightly parted. Regulus doesn’t seem to notice he’s being watched until James smugly says, “Like what you’re seeing?” and poses provocatively, running his hands through his hair.

Regulus entranced expression immediately yields a scowl. “No,” he says petulantly. After a moment of hesitation, he puts the stone in his pocket and says, “Stop showing off. It’s frustrating.”

“Frustrating?” James asks smirking. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Regulus replies shortly, but doesn’t elaborate any further despite James trying to get more out of him for the rest of the evening.

“How was your date with Moony?” James asks that night when Sirius flops down on James’ bed again.

“It was so perfect,” Sirius sighs. “We want to go to the cinema on Saturday. Do you think you can get Reg to agree to another fake date so soon again?”

“I’ll try,” James promises. “Your parents are still not giving up?”

Sirius shakes his head sadly. He doesn’t have few similarities with a kicked puppy in that moment and James feels the urge to pet his head. He just about manages to refrain from it. 

“My mother still doesn’t believe Reggie is really going out with you. I think she actually believes it’s all fake, which sucks, because obviously it is and therefore quite difficult to make her believe otherwise.”

“The photos didn’t convince her?” James asks surprised. He thought if anything could sell it those should have done the trick. He kissed Regulus’ cheek in one of them for fuck’s sake.

“Photos?” Sirius peaks up. “I don’t know about any photos...”

“Oh?” James asks confused. “I would have assumed Reg showed them around? Maybe he forgot about them after he put them in his pocket...” James moves his head from side to side. “Or he just didn’t show them to you ‘cause you’d tease him about it. You can be a bit of a twat about some things so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Rude,” Sirius says lazily. “I’m the sweetest person you’ve ever met.”

“Every now and then you can be a bit sweet, yes,” James assures him earnestly.

Sirius gives him a beaming smile and blows him a kiss, which James pretends to eat out of the air.

“Moony and I were thinking, we should all go out together again some time.”

“Huh? You mean like a double date?” That’s not at all what James expected.

Sirius laughs. “No, I mean us Marauders. Last year we went to the cinema all the time. We should do that again some time. Date unrelated, just us as friends.”

“Oooh,” James nods eagerly. “Yes please, I’d love that. Have you asked Wormtail already?”

“Not yet, but Peter invited Moony to one of his chess competitions tomorrow, so he’ll ask him then.”

“Nice,” James beams. He fucking loves spending time with all his friends. “Alright so, Moony date the day after tomorrow... when is it?”

“We planned to leave at eight, so pretty late.”

James nods and gets up to write Regulus a little note, telling him he’d pick him up Saturday night at eight unless he had objections. When he has finished writing it he blows on the parchment to make the ink dry faster before folding it into an airplane, just because that is the first shape he can think of (and also the only one he knows how to fold from the top of his head). He sends it flying at Sirius who catches it a little clumsily. James can’t help but compare him to Regulus in that moment, remembering how elegantly he had plucked the grape James chucked at him out of the air a couple hours earlier. But then again, Regulus has the advantage of being an excellent Seeker. Sirius, who does make a passable Beater, has absolutely no chance of holding up with that.

“Just give Reg the note when you see him tomorrow, I hope that counts enough as ‘asking him out myself’”, James says and jumps back on the bed, making himself comfortable under the covers.

“You’re my hero, my knight in boxer shorts” Sirius sighs dramatically, grabs James’ face in both his hands and plants a loud kiss on his lips.

James pushes Sirius’ face away laughing. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m perfect.”

Sirius ruffles his hair before he gets more serious again. “Genuinely though, thank you. You don’t understand how much you’re saving my sanity here.”

“It’s my pleasure,” James assures him. “It really is. I’m enjoying myself as well. Just you wait, by the end of this I’ll have made Regulus my friend.”

“As long as you don’t replace me I have no complaints about that.”

“I could never replace you, Padfoot.” James sits up again and tackles Sirius in a tight hug that maybe resembles a choke hold a little too closely. “You’ll always be my favourite person. You could sell my secrets and kill a dozen people and I’d still help you hide the bodies.”

Sirius frees his arm from James’ grip and returns the hug. “Damnit Prongs, I love you so much. I’d kill those dozen people for you if you asked, I hope you know that.”

“Oh, I do,” James promises him satisfied. “I very much do.”

This time when James knocks at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place it’s Orion Black who opens the door. He is about James’ height but the way he looks down at him still makes James feel several inches smaller.

“So you’re James Potter,” he says disapproving.

“I am, Sir,” James replies with a friendly smile. “I was hoping to find Regulus here.”

“My son will come down in a couple minutes. He has something he needs to discuss with his mother first.”

“That’s alright, I’m in no rush,” James says, even though it is a bit of a lie. Sirius wants to leave in a couple minutes, which means that Regulus has to be ready by then.

James expects Orion to close the door in front of his nose and leave him standing there until Regulus comes down, but instead the man stays and keeps mustering James. He’s starting to feel increasingly uneasy, shifting from foot to foot.

“Do you think you could ask Sirius to come down? There is something I was meant to ask him as well,” James says. There isn’t anything he has to tell his best friend, but having him here for company would certainly make waiting for Regulus a lot less uncomfortable.

Orion stares James down coldly for several seconds before he replies. “Sirius is currently busy, but I’m sure he will also join us soon.”

“Coolio,” James says and instantly bites his tongue. Not the best choice of words in front of the Noble House of Black.

“I don’t approve of your relationship with my son,” Orion says bluntly.

“Okay,” James says, because what else is he supposed to say to that. Wonderful? I expected as much?  That’s alright, I’m not actually in a relationship with him?

“I expect him to be smart enough to end things with you soon, however, so I don’t see the need to interfere. My wife thinks differently, but unfortunately the spell we used for Sirius is limited in its effectiveness and can’t be used without leverage.”

“That’s nice to know,” James says with a polite smile.

His unaffectedness seems to anger Orion. A deep, furious frown appears on his forehead. “You’re an insolent, obstreperous brat, Potter. You’ve already ruined one of my sons, I will not let you do the same thing to the other.”

“I don’t ruin anything, Sir,” James says seriously. “I merely help enhance the best qualities of people. I’m sorry that you can’t acknowledge and appreciate how wonderful your sons are, but I won’t let you stop me from giving them the love they deserve.”

Orion opens his mouth and James is prepared for a string of curses, linguistical and magical, but is saved by Sirius sauntering down the stairs.

“James!” he calls loudly, distracting his father.

James smiles at him. Sirius looks good. He properly dressed up, wearing a sparkly, see-through shirt and eyeliner along with his usual docs, leather jacket and abundance of earrings.

“Damn, Padfoot, looking good. If it wouldn’t upset Moony I might have to take you out myself.”

“Don’t you dare, Regulus would kill me,” Sirius says with a wink. He walks around his father and leans against the door frame, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I finally saw the photos,” he says, leaning closer towards James. “I get why they’re upset–” he throws a side glance to his father whose frown only deepened since Sirius showed up “–looks like you had some good dates.”

“I did,” James agrees. “I’m going to have another great date in a bit.” He annunciates the words clearly so Orion can’t miss them even if he wanted to.

“Must say though,” Sirius adds, lowering his voice, “Undressing in front of my brother is maybe going a bit far, Prongs.”

“Huh?” James rakes his brain, trying to figure out how Sirius could have concluded James was undressing himself in front of Regulus, until he remembered the camera Regulus had been holding on their last date when James returned from his swim. He must have taken a photo then. Smart move on his side, honestly, that was sure to upset Orion and Walburga Black. “Ah,” James continues. “Yeah, well I’m hardly going to go swimming fully clothed now, am I?”

Sirius thinks this over for a moment, then shrugs. “Fair enough. Just didn’t expect to find a photo of you model walking all wet in just your pants in my brother’s possessions.”

“Yeah, mate, I can’t believe you don’t have a photo like that of me. Are we even friends?” James quips.

“Nahh Prongs, you see, I get to look at you like that every other day. I don’t need a photo, I can just walk into your room at any time of the day and find you strutting around in your underwear.”

James laughs at that. “Fair enough,” he repeats Sirius’ words.

Through all this Orion hasn’t moved or stopped scowling. He’s still rooted to the spot and watches their interaction with displeasure clearly written on his face. James doesn’t understand how anyone can be such an unpleasant person. Especially around their family, people they’re supposed to love.

“Well, father,” Sirius says, only now acknowledging the man. “I would have expected you to look a lot more happy about the fact you get rid of me for the entire night.”

“I’d be a lot happier if you didn’t desecrate our family name doing so,” Orion says coldly.

“Oh, our family name isn’t the only thing that’ll get desecrated tonight,” Sirius promises, which startles James into a surprised laugh. “Oh, hi Reggie! Lovely of you to join this wonderful conversation as well!”

At his words James looks past Sirius and sees Regulus quietly walking towards them. His back is straight, his shoulders held stiffly, his chin high, and yet he looks weirdly drawn in on himself. “Let’s just go,” he says quietly when he reaches James.

James gives him a puzzled look, but nods. “Have a nice evening, Mr Black,” he says with a hard smile towards the addressed. They both know he doesn’t mean it, but Orion is too fixated on keeping a proper image to point it out. Without a word he turns and walks back into the house.

“Alright lads, I’ll leave you to it,” Sirius announces, motioning back into the house with a nod of his head. “My boyfriend awaits me.”

“Have fun,” James says and holds out his fist for Sirius to bump, which he does. “Say hi to Moony from me.”

“Will do,” Sirius promises. “You have fun as well!”

“Of course,” James grins and nudges Regulus’ shoulder. “Right, Reg?” Regulus only shrugs. “Eh, we’ll work on that...”

Sirius chuckles. “Try not to ruin Jamsie’s night, Reggie. I’ll see you later!” And with that he disappears back into the house to floo to Remus. 

When the door closes behind Sirius, James turns his attention back to his fake date. “Are you okay?” he asks. Regulus nods stiffly and little convincing. He’ll get back to that when they’re not literally standing on a doorstep. “I thought we could go to one of the pubs here in the city, there is this really nice one that has–”

“I’d rather not,” Regulus interrupts him. He still keeps his voice low, like he doesn’t want to be noticed. 

“Alright, we don’t have to.” James shrugs. “Anything else you want to do instead?”

Regulus chews on his lip. It takes a while before he manages to ask, “Can we go to yours and just not do anything?”

James hesitates. He doesn’t exactly mind Regulus coming over to his house, he likes having people at his. It’s more the fact that he doesn’t want to have to explain this to his parents, because he would really rather have to avoid lying to them. But his parents have a date tonight themselves so they’re not home either. They don’t even know James is out tonight. So he supposes taking Regulus back to his won’t be an issue either. “Sure,” he says eventually, “I usually take the floo in the Leaky Cauldron, do you want to walk there? I’d say we could take your fireplace but I doubt your parents will let me in...”

“No, they won’t,” Regulus agrees. “Walking is fine.”

The walk between Grimmauld Place and Wizarding London is a lot more fun with Sirius than it is with Regulus tonight, mainly because Sirius is never this quiet and James is never this incredibly unsure about what to say. They walk in silence for the main part of the way, while James is desperately trying to come up with a way to start a conversation. He never has this much of a problem, usually. Except with Lily, at least in the past. With her it had also always been incredibly awkward to find a topic to talk about when he wasn’t actively trying to flirt with her or ask her out or in a group of more people. Regulus is somehow equally difficult, when it isn’t about teasing him or reacting to his rebuttals. 

When they finally reach the Leaky Cauldron James internally sighs with relief. He pays their couple Knuts fare for the Floo Powder before he steps into the fireplace, calling for Potter Manor and disappears, quickly followed by Regulus. 

Once he finds himself in his parents’ living room, Regulus standing close to him, he finds to his disappointment that he doesn’t feel much less awkward than before. 

“Uhm, you wanna go up to my room?” he asks. 

Regulus nods and so James leads the way up to the first floor. On the last step he realises his room is an absolute mess and there is no way he can clean it in the split second it would take Regulus to follow him inside. So he stops, turns around to Regulus on the step below him and says apologetically, “My room is pretty chaotic right now, I kind of didn’t expect any visitors except for maybe Sirius randomly at some point, but he’s used to it so I rarely tidy up for him…”

“I don’t mind,” Regulus says, “I’m used to Sirius’ mess as well.”

James clears his throat in embarrassment. “Just so you know, Sirius’ mess is what my tidied-up room looks like.” Sirius is absolutely not a messy person. James knows he tries to be, being orderly is just another thing his parents have raised him up to be that he’s trying to unlearn, but he barely ever manages. Keeping his things in a mess stresses him out, so even his chaos has a very precise structure that he can’t stand getting disturbed. 

“I’ll be fine, James, I won’t complain,” Regulus promises and so James takes the last couple steps to his door and swings it open with the words “Welcome to my humble kingdom.”

Regulus steps past James into the room and slowly looks around, taking in the clothes and schoolbooks strewn around. “Looks like your kingdom recently got attacked and left in ruins,” he notes. 

“I did warn you,” James points out and closes the door. He quickly goes around and tries to bring at least a little order back to his room, dropping most of his clothes in one pile in a corner. “Don’t judge me.”

“I’m judging you,” Regulus says but his tone is exhausted and lacks all its usual sharpness. 

James notions for the unmade bed. “Feel free to sit there, all my friends are usually strewn across my bed, it’s the most comfortable place in the room anyway. Unless of course you don’t want to. I also have a desk chair.” And he unnecessarily points at it. 

Regulus doesn’t take the chair. He crawls into the bed, shuffling all the way back into the corner and leans against the wall, inspecting the photos and postcards stuck to the other wall next to him. After a moment of uncertainty, feeling truly rather peculiar with Regulus Black sitting in his bed, James joins him. 

“Nice photos,” Regulus says softly. 

James smiles. “All my friends,” he says, “Mary has a better collection over her bed, though, I’m really quite jealous of it. But now that I have my own camera I’m determined to one up her.”

Regulus stays quiet for a long while, his eyes fixed to one spot on the wall in particular. James follows his line of sight and sees the photo he took of Regulus on the beach, right between a photo of him and Sirius and a moving one of Lily, Mary and Marlene hugging and grinning into the camera. 

“You hung it up,” Regulus says softly. 

A moment long James hesitates but then decides Regulus will notice anyway if he keeps staring at his wall, so he points a little higher up at the other one, of Regulus reading poetry to him. “Both of them. I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t want to be presumptuous, but they’re nice photos.”

“I don’t mind,” Regulus says quietly to James' relief. “It’s nice.”

“So,” James tries carefully after another stretch of silence, “what’s been eating on you?”

“I just didn’t sleep well last night,” he says avoidant. James knows it’s not everything. This is not what someone who merely didn’t sleep well looks like. Especially not someone who lives in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. But if Regulus doesn’t want to talk about it, James won’t push. He doesn’t have any right to know, only just having gotten the confirmation that it’s alright to consider Regulus one of his friends. There is no reason why he would have to trust him with personal matters. 

“I’m sorry, that sucks,” James says instead. “I hope you get better sleep tonight." 

Regulus lets out a small, humourless laugh. “Yeah, me too…”

James pulls out the Snitch from his pocket, which he still always carries with him. He needs something to do, needs something for Regulus and him to spend the time doing until a reasonable date-length time has passed and Regulus can go home again. What is a reasonable time for a date anyway? So far they just winged it, spending their day together until it felt like their shared activity came to an end. They hadn’t had to put much thinking into it yet.

“You have a Snitch?” Regulus interrupts his contemplating. 

“Uh, yeah, don’t tell anyone, I nicked it after a Quidditch match against you back in Hogwarts. It helps me keep my fingers busy when I need a distraction.”

“You need a distraction?” Regulus asks. 

James shrugs sheepishly and says honestly, “I’m not entirely sure what the rules are here. I don’t know what to do.”

Regulus hums in understanding. “I don’t need you to do anything,” he says. “I don’t mind if we just sit in silent company, I think that’s nice. Do you have something for me to read?”

James suppresses a laugh. Good to know that he was right with his assumption of what Regulus would consider a good time spent together. He is a bit proud of himself.

To answer Regulus' question he points over to his bookcase. It’s not overly well stocked, he must admit, but James really doesn’t read much, he can’t concentrate on books long enough to get anywhere. “Take your pick,” he tells Regulus. “If you can’t find anything I can show you my mother’s books, she has an awful lot more and I think probably also more you’d enjoy.”

Regulus gets up and walks over to inspect the contents of the bookshelf. “Anything you can recommend? Do you have a favourite?”

“Well, very stereotypical, Quidditch through the Ages is probably my most read book but I guess you already know that one. Other than that definitely the fairy tale book Lily got me. It should be on the second shelf, between the plant pot and the Astronomy book.”

Regulus inspects the sparse contents of James’ bookshelf and says, “I think you should read Jules Verne. Judging from your barely existing books in here you’d like the stories.” James, who has no idea who or what Jules Verne is, hums non-committally and watches Regulus run his finger over the books until he halts at James’ old Astronomy school book. “This looks very unused,” Regulus notes.

“I had Sirius and Peter, they were a lot more interesting than the book so I basically never opened it,” James explains. “I dropped Astronomy, I nearly failed my O.W.L.s in it.”

Regulus lets a small snort escape. “Wonder why, when you never open your book…” He takes out the fairy tale book and makes his way back to the bed. 

“Nah, I would have done terribly either way. It’s really not my thing, too much learning by heart, I can’t do that. I’m more an intuitive kinda guy, I’m better at the practical stuff.”

“I’ll teach you the most important things some time,” Regulus says. “If you want, the peak of the Perseids is happening in a couple weeks, we can look at them together and I’ll give you some star facts in between.”

“I have no idea what that is,” James admits. 

Regulus halts in his movement, one knee already on the bed again. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” James promises. 

“It’s the biggest meteor shower we can regularly see from earth. We pass through the remnants of the comet Swift-Tuttle every year between July and August, how do you not know about that? When our orbit passes the dust cloud the particles falling through our atmosphere all burn up. You can just lie down and look at the sky for hours and see hundreds and hundreds of shooting stars.”

“Oh,” James says, “that sounds nice. Sure, let’s do that together, I’m sure Sirius will be delighted as well.”

“He better be. I can’t believe he let you live so long without knowing anything about the night sky.”

“Hey, I know some things!” James defends himself. 

“Like what?”

“...I can tell you which one the moon is?” James tries. To be fair he does know an awful lot about the moon. 

Regulus, however, looks at him aghast. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No,” James says grinning, “I absolutely can recognise the moon. Probably also the Plough and I think I’ll be able to point out Sirius’ star…”

“Merlin help,” Regulus mutters and makes himself more comfortable on the bed again. He starts flipping through the pages, looking at the various fairy tale titles. “They’re all Muggle stories,” he notes surprised. 

“As I said, Lily got it for me. She felt the need to lecture me on the stories she grew up with. I’m not complaining, I actually prefer them over Beedle’s tales.”

“Lily,” Regulus says, a hint of displeasure in his tone. 

“Yeah,” James says a little more sharply than before. Regulus better not have a problem with her. “I love her. She’s a brilliant witch and a wonderful person.”

Regulus stays silent. 

“You should talk to her some time, you two are actually pretty similar. If you could get over your prejudices you’d probably end up liking her.” 

“My prejudices?” Regulus asks. “You think I don’t like her because she’s a Muggleborn and I’m what, following my parents believes or something?”

“Is that not the case?” 

“No,” Regulus says resolutely. “Absolutely not. My dislike of her has nothing to do with that. My parents might have fucked me up in many ways but this is certainly not one of them.” 

“Oh. Well. That’s nice to know. I’m glad,” James says. “Still think you’d like her if you actually talked to her.”

Regulus huffs and turns back to the book. “Any fairy tale I should start with?” he changes the subject. 

“Golden Apples with Silver Leaves is my favourite,” James says. “Actually, if you want, I can read it to you, then I also have something better to do than going over my new strategy for the fifth time.” 

“You want to read to me?” Regulus asks surprised. 

“Obviously only if you want. I read to the Marauders sometimes, according to them I have a nice reading voice.” 

Regulus hands over the book to James who in return hands over the Snitch he’s been fiddling with until this point. He flips to the correct story, clears his throat and starts reading. “It was once a king who had a daughter, only one, and she was beautiful and just…”

James reads slowly, giving each of the characters a different voice. Every now and then he glances at Regulus who is attentively listening, turning the little golden ball between his fingers, usually watching James. Once or twice he catches him looking at the photos on the wall instead, a solemn expression on his face which James doesn’t understand. When the fairy tale is over, neither of them says anything. James waits for Regulus to talk first, to give him his opinion on the story or ask for a different book so he can read himself. What he says instead is, “Can you read me another one?” 

James smiles and nods and flips to the next page. 

They continue like that for a while. After the third story James doesn’t wait for Regulus to request more, he simply keeps going, choosing the stories he likes best to read to Regulus who still seems quieter than his usual quiet self, still gets hung up on the photos every now and then, and still won’t tell James what’s occupying his mind. 

When James’ voice starts getting scratchy from reading too much he interrupts himself and says, “I’ll have to get myself something to drink, do you also want anything?” 

When Regulus doesn’t answer, James glances over at him and realises with a start that at some point during the last fairy tale Regulus must have fallen asleep. He is curled up tightly like a cat, still all the way in the corner, his arms tugged close to his chest, his hand curled around the Snitch, his knees drawn up. Maybe he really had slept terribly the night before… 

James gets up quietly and leaves his room to go to the kitchen where he fills himself a cup of water, downing it quickly. With a glance to the clock hanging above the kitchen cabinets he realises it’s nearly eleven. He assumes Sirius and Remus are done with the film by now so he fishes the mirror out of his pocket and calls his best friend’s name. 

Luckily it doesn’t take long for Sirius to answer. He’s wrapped in a Moony jumper, his hair a mess and by the look of it currently in Remus’ bathroom. “Prongs? What’s wrong?” 

“Not entirely sure how to say this,” James starts, “But your brother is currently asleep in my bed.”

The look on Sirius’ face is honestly priceless. “What the fuck? What’s he doing in your bed?” 

“Sleeping, didn’t you listen?” 

“Yeah but why?” 

“I read fairy tales to him, maybe I bored him so much that he nodded off? Look, he said he slept really badly last night and he really didn’t look all that great and I think something happened with your mother that he doesn’t want to tell me. Do you know anything about that?” 

Sirius shakes his head. “I mean they had a conversation before we left, but I don’t know what about. I’ll ask him tomorrow.” 

“Should I wake him?” James asks uncertainly. He doesn’t really want to, if he’s honest. When Sirius falls asleep without first properly going to bed there’s always a rather not so nice reason for why he is so exhausted and he always desperately needs that sleep. James has personally fought off people who’ve wanted things from Sirius while he was in one of those sleeps before. He’d do the same for Regulus if there’s even a chance he might be the same as his brother in this aspect. 

Sirius looks stricken, probably thinking about the same thing. 

“Look, I’ll sleep on the sofa and let him have my room for the night if you think he’ll need the night and won’t stab me in the morning for not having woken him.” 

Sirius hesitates for a moment longer before he nods. “If you’re okay with that I think that’s for the best. If something happened with my mother I don’t really want him home tonight since I won’t be going either, I’m staying the night with Remus…” 

James nods. “Sounds good.”

“Do you have Quidditch tomorrow?”

“No, tomorrow is still free,” James explains, “So there’s no need for me to throw him out early. Do you want to come by and pick him up? You know, parents and all?”

“I’ll try, I’ll see how it goes with Moony’s parents tomorrow. I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”

“Alrighty. Have fun with Moony then!”

Sirius grins, his eyes sparkling with sudden anticipation. “Oh, I certainly will!”

James snorts. “Sure, sure. Goodnight, Padfoot, try to get some sleep at some point!”

“We’ll see about that. Sweet dreams, Prongs! And thanks again, I really appreciate it.”

James waves his hand dismissively through the air. “Nothing to thank me for. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Sirius replies and after sending James a kiss and middle finger through the mirror, which James both happily returns, he disappears.

James goes back to his room, moving as quietly as possible as not to disturb Regulus. He finds him still asleep, although now no longer half sitting against the wall. He’s managed to pull the covers over himself, clutching the edge tightly in his hands, securely pulled under his chin, replacing the Snitch from before. He looks soft like this. None of the usual sharpness and constant alertness is visible when he’s asleep. He only looks soft and beautiful and James gets the strange urge to run his fingers through his hair and card them out of his face.

He shakes the feeling off and swiftly plucks the Snitch Regulus let go off out of the air. He doesn’t need the ball flying into Regulus’ face to be the reason he wakes up.

Quietly he gets another blanket from below his bed. He absolutely doesn’t need it during the summer, but James just doesn’t like sleeping without something covering him, especially not if he’s going to be in the very open of the living room. He turns off the light and carefully closes the door behind him.

The sofa isn’t exactly comfortable. The fabric is a bit itchy against James’ naked chest but he simply didn’t have the energy to properly make a bed for a single night, so he’ll deal with it. The room feels too big, too void of people for the amount of space around him, so he pulls the blanket over his head and tries to pretend Peter and Marlene are asleep on the floor as they’ve been endless times before.

It works well enough. Somehow he must have fallen asleep, because suddenly he finds himself very unpleasantly woken up by the living room lights turning on. He sits up startled with a heartfelt “What the fuck?”, frantically trying to get his brain up to date with the sudden change of his surroundings.

“Oh, Merlin! James!” comes the equally surprised reply from the doorway. “Please explain what’s going on here.”

Chapter Text

4 - I hate it how you make me lie, and when you hold my hand

It takes a while for James to remember that he put his glasses on the coffee table and then also locate them. Once he’s regained his eyesight he blinks against the light and sees his parents standing in the doorway to the living room. 

“Hi,” James says groggily. “How was your date?” 

“Wonderful,” his father replies, raising one eyebrow at him. “What are you doing on the sofa?” 

“My bed is occupied,” James says. Then he remembers he should probably be lying to his parents because he promised Sirius he wouldn’t tell them about Operation Something Fancy With Sirius That Shortens To A Swearword. “Uh, I couldn’t sleep there, I mean,” he tries to correct himself. 

“Who is occupying your bed?” Euphemia asks sternly. 

“No one,” James says and yawns. 

His mother watches him critically for a moment, waiting for a better reply, which James doesn’t give. “You simply decided the sofa was more comfortable?” she asks. 

James nods. 

“So if I now went up to your room and turned on the light I’d find an empty bed?” 

James violently shakes his head. “Don’t do that,” he says quickly, because he knows his mother. She absolutely will check his room. And James really doesn’t want her to wake Regulus, especially not now that it’s even later. He doesn’t even want to think about how Walburga would react if he returned home in the middle of the night. 

“James Fleamont Potter, explain yourself.” 

James shrinks down under his mother’s stern gaze. Sometimes he wonders if she or McGonagall would win in a staring contest, or if the two would just never blink again should they ever get into this situation. “Regulus,” James mumbles to his pillow. 

His father laughs at that, which James thinks is a bit mean considering he is currently being scolded. “You invited Regulus over and instead of doing the sensible thing of sleeping in the same bed and have him sneak out through the window in the morning you decided to spend the night on the sofa?” he asks. 

“Regulus invited himself over,” James says petulantly.

“Wee Flea,” his mother says. The pet name is certainly better than his full name but doesn’t manage to fully settle his unease. “You do know we don’t mind if your boyfriend spends the night, right?” 

“As long as you bring him down to eat breakfast with us the next morning,” his father adds. 

“Regulus is not my boyfriend,” James says flustered. 

“Of course not, that’s why he’s sleeping in your bed right now.”

“Sirius sleeps in my bed all the time and you never thought that he is my boyfriend.” 

“You’ve never taken Sirius out on dates either,” Fleamont notes. “And you usually don’t make such a fuss about sleeping in a bed with him.” 

Oh, now that’s just mean. No matter what James says now his parents will believe he’s dating Regulus. If he makes a big deal about not sleeping in the same bed with Regulus it’ll support their argument, but if he gives in and goes upstairs it does too. The only way he sees in his barely awake state to talk himself out of this is to tell them the truth, but he can’t do that either. So in the end James presses his lips together and says nothing. 

“Go to your bed, James,” his mother says encouragingly. “You didn’t even put a sheet on the sofa.” 

“But–” 

“Go on. Get to sleep,” his father urges gently, “your mother and I wanted to have another glass of wine in the living room anyway.” 

“Your date is still not done?” James asks incredulously. 

Euphemia wraps an arm around her husband and presses a kiss to his cheek. 

“We’re only back because the restaurant had to close. Otherwise we would have stayed a couple hours more,” Fleamont says looking adoringly at his wife. 

James watches them in awe. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of seeing how in love his parents are. Growing up with them as his parents there was never once doubt in his life that true love existed. It’s all he’s ever wished for himself as well, to have something like what his parents have. 

He bundles up his blanket and gets up. As uncertain as he is about going to sleep next to Regulus, as much does he not want to interrupt his parents’ date time. They barely ever get to properly go out anymore. 

“Have fun,” James sighs. 

“You too,” his mother says. “Sleep well, wee Flea.” 

“And don’t forget, we expect both of you for breakfast tomorrow!” his father reminds him before pulling him into a hug on his way out of the living room. “Goodnight, son.” 

“Night night,” James says, giving a quick hug to his mother as well before taking the stairs up to the first floor again. 

The closer he gets to his room the more nervous he becomes. When he quietly pushes open the door he swears he can hear his heart beating in the silence of the night. He feels rather guilty, slipping into bed with Regulus without him knowing, or having talked about it beforehand. This was supposed to be fake dates. Fake dates don’t include sharing a bed when you’re not at least proper long-time friends yet. At least James thinks as much, he doesn’t actually know the rules of fake dating. Are there rules? 

For a moment James debates whether he should just get comfortable on the floor instead, but that seems fairly impossible considering he doesn’t even have a carpet, just old hardwood. So in the end he pulls himself together and climbs into bed, making sure not to disturb the mattress too badly and keeping as much space between himself and Regulus as he can. 

James knows he is a very ... clingy sleeper. When Sirius stays over he usually wakes up wrapped up in all of James’ limbs. Sirius on the other hand is a very violent sleeper, who is known to steal blankets and occasionally hit you over the head. James doesn’t mind. Neither does Sirius. Regulus probably would. 

James is quite honestly terrified of falling asleep and realising in the morning that he ended up cuddling Regulus. Sharing a bed’s all well and good, but that would decisively go a step too far.

As a result, James sleeps terribly. If it can be called sleeping at all.

Every time he feels himself nod off he jerks awake a moment later out of fear he might roll over into Regulus’ personal space. It’s the constant vigilance that eventually exhausts him so much that, as the sky is turning a dusty pink outside, sleep finally overcomes him. 

When James wakes up a few hours later by a sunbeam shining right into his face he finds to his relief that he is still lying on his side of the bed, his arm actually hanging over the edge. He also didn’t steal Regulus’ blanket – in fact, at some point during his short sleep he kicked his own covers off, succumbing to the summer heat. 

When he turns his head to look over at Regulus he finds him startingly awake, having shifted all the way over onto the wall, looking at James with wide eyes. 

“Morning,” James says carefully. 

Regulus nods in acknowledgement.

“Err, you fell asleep yesterday and I asked Sirius and he said to just let you sleep,” James starts explaining hurriedly, his voice still rough with sleep. “And I had meant to sleep in the living room but then my parents came home and sent me back upstairs because they now think we’re dating and I didn’t know how to explain this to them so I really didn’t have much of a choice. Sorry… I promise I didn’t attack you with cuddles during the night. At least I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” 

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Regulus says quietly. 

“Oh. Okay. Well. Good to know for eventual future sleepovers then, guess I can stop stressing about it next time…” 

“Next time?” Regulus asks. 

“Hypothetical next time,” James corrects. 

Regulus nods jerkily. “Sorry for falling asleep.” 

“I don’t mind, I assume you desperately needed it.” 

There’s a beat of silence in which Regulus just fiddles with the hem of his shirt and James reaches over to his bedside table to retrieve his glasses.

“My mother is going to be so mad,” Regulus whispers at last. He chews on his lower lip before he admits, “She found the photos last night.”

“Does she finally believe we’re actually dating?” James asks. 

“Yeah,” Regulus mumbles. “She’s really not happy about it.” 

James can imagine. But if everything goes according to plan that at least would mean they could soon drop the pretence. Everyone would be happier about it; Sirius could go back to dating Remus normally, Walburga wouldn’t have to come to terms with the fact that Regulus is dating a Potter, and Regulus could stop having to go out with James and be annoyed at him all the time and wouldn’t have to anger his parents any longer.

Although James has to admit he is getting kind of fond of their time shared together. He thinks he might end up missing it quite a bit. But then again, he assumes, there’s nothing keeping them from still meeting up as friends if Regulus wanted that as well. 

“Are you okay though?” James asks a little worried. “How did she react?” 

Regulus doesn’t answer for a long while. The more time passes the more worried James gets. Finally he says, “As expected, really. Lots of shouting, some light curses, a bit of threatening…” 

James sucks in a sharp breath. “Regulus, if she hurts you over this it’s really not worth it. We don’t have to do this. You should have told me earlier. We’ll stop this.” 

“I don’t want to stop though,” Regulus says quietly. “I’ll be fine, really. Sirius got much worse when she found out about Remus and they’re still dating. I don’t want to stop.” 

“Are you sure?” James asks conflicted. Yes, he also absolutely wants to see this plan through and help Sirius. He doesn’t want Regulus to get hurt over it, though. He knows the Black family enough to understand that ‘some light cursing’ doesn’t mean the same to them than it does to most other people, and that’s not even to mention the verbal and psychological abuse Walburga has to offer. They surely could find a different way of executing this plan that doesn’t leave Regulus getting seriously hurt. 

“I’m sure,” Regulus says resolutely, however. 

James frowns, but doesn’t disagree. “You’ll let me know if it’s too much and you change your mind, though?” 

Regulus nods. “Stop worrying about me, James. I promise I can handle myself.” 

“I’m more worried you can’t handle your parents, to be honest,” James admits. 

“Well, stop it. I don’t want you to worry.” 

James presses his lips together. Worrying is kind of his job, he’ll worry about the well-being of all of his friends. “I’ll try,” he says eventually. “Sirius said he might come by later to pick you up to go home together. I’ll try to convince him to really do that, I’d feel a bit better if you didn’t go home all by yourself.” 

“I’ll be fine, James,” Regulus says sharply. 

“You did say your mother is going to be mad about you staying the night. Please, let me worry about this part at least and try to fix it as much as I can.” 

“Fine,” Regulus says but he doesn’t sound all that happy about it. 

James glances at the clock hanging on the wall next to his window. It’s still fairly early in the morning. “I’ll ask him after breakfast, I don’t think he’s going to be up already, especially if he’s sleeping with Remus.” 

Regulus huff. “If. As if they’re not sleeping together when they’re at the same place.” 

“Yeah, fair enough,” James snorts, then remembers something else. “Uh, yeah, by the way, my parents expect both of us to eat breakfast with them.” 

“What?” Regulus chokes out. “Why?” 

“Well, they think I had my boyfriend stay the night in my room. And I guess having him stay for breakfast the next morning is just the thing you’re supposed to do then?” 

“Boyfriend,” Regulus says panicked. 

“That’s what they believe anyway,” James says carefully. “Are you– are you okay with that?” 

Regulus blushes deeply. “I’m okay with that,” he mumbles. “It’s nice…” 

James smiles. “I guess so. Thank you.” 

Regulus takes a deep breath. “If I have to meet your parents, do you... uhm... think you could lend me a shirt? I don’t really want to have to eat with them while wearing the sweaty, wrinkly shirt I accidentally slept in.”

“Yeah sure, no problem,” James says. “I mean they’ll probably all be a bit big on you though.” 

“I don’t mind,” Regulus says. “Still better than this…” 

James gets out of bed and walks over to his wardrobe. He kneels down to look through his clothes, eventually re-emerging with a red shirt he hasn’t worn in forever because it’s grown a little too tight on him over the years. It used to be one of his favourites, though, which is why he hasn’t managed to get rid of it yet. He throws it towards Regulus now. “This is the best it’ll get, everything else will be far too big on you.” 

Regulus scrutinises the shirt for a second. 

“Don’t look at it as if the colour red has personally murdered your entire family.”

“If the colour red had personally murdered my entire family I’d look at it a lot more kindly,” Regulus retorts. 

“It’ll look nice on you,” James reassures him. “It can’t hurt to wear some colour every now and then.” 

“You only say that because you’ve never tried wearing something without colour, Do you even own a black shirt?” 

James has to seriously think about this. “I think I have a band tee from Sirius? And my school uniform but you probably won’t count that.” 

“No, I won’t,” Regulus confirms. 

“Well. I don’t have anything else to offer right now so you’ll have to endure my unfortunately happy colours for the moment.” 

James wasn’t wrong, the shirt does look nice on Regulus. It makes him look a lot more approachable somehow and beautifully compliments the blush creeping onto his cheeks when James tells him he looks pretty. 

“Ready to be my boyfriend?” James asks, nodding his head towards the floor where the voices of his parents are sounding up to them from the kitchen. 

Regulus nods. “Less ready to meet your parents, though.” 

“You’ve already met them,” James says. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Regulus gives him a dirty look. “I’ve met them as your best friend’s little brother. And very briefly at that. Meeting them as your boyfriend after having spent the night in your room is something completely different.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s really not a big deal,” James says with a shrug. “Come on.” He holds his hand out towards Regulus. An offer he doesn’t have to take, but James thinks if they’re already having his parents believe they’re dating they might as well sell the act properly. Plus, it’s always nice to have something to hold onto when one is nervous.

Regulus does take his hand and carefully intertwines their fingers. 

“You good with this?” James still asks, just in case. 

“Yeah,” Regulus says. “Just a bit nervous.”

James encouragingly squeezes his hand. “They’re nice. Nothing to be nervous about.” It does little to calm down Regulus, which James thinks is fair considering he has had very little experience with parents actually being nice.

Fleamont is standing on the stove preparing breakfast while Euphemia leans against the counter to talk to him when Regulus and James come downstairs. Their arrival doesn’t go unnoticed, both of James’ parents looking up when they enter the kitchen. 

James can feel how tense Regulus is about this. His hold on James’ hand nears painfulness and he’s pressed close to his side, half a step behind James. James feels a sliver of guilt unfurling inside of him for making Regulus go through this. When they had started their fake dating he had never expected to have to get his parents involved. Maybe Regulus would have not agreed to this plan had he known this is what he’d eventually have to do. 

“Good morning,” James says cheerily to lift the tension. 

“Good morning,” Regulus says as well, quiet and polite, with the manners he was surely brought up with, despite seeming like he’d rather be about anywhere else at the moment and preferably never talk again.

Fleamont instantly steps forward and spreads his arms out for a hug, but when James gives him a warning look he quickly morphs the movement into an offering for a handshake.

Regulus lets go of James’ hand to shake Fleamont’s hand instead. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter,” he says smoothly, none of his nervousness still showing. In fact, with his upright posture and the pleasant smile playing upon his lips he looks the picture of confidence. It’s the unsettlingly light feeling on his fingers left behind by the missing grip of Regulus’ hand on his that assures James he wasn’t only imagining his anxiety.

“Please, Monty is fine,” his father says with the same charming smile James inherited from him. “It’s wonderful to properly meet you, Regulus.”

James’ mother now also steps forward. “Good morning, Regulus,” she says kindly. “I’m glad James finally decided to introduce us.” She sends a far less kind look in James’ direction.

James groans. “Mum! It’s not like this has been going on forever, you haven’t actually missed anything.”

“You were planning on sneaking him out without meeting us first,” Fleamont points out. “Have we taught you no manners? You don’t have people stay over and then let them leave without breakfast.” He turns to Regulus to address his following words to him, “We’re very sorry, something must have gone awfully wrong when we raised James.”

Regulus gives a polite laugh. “So far I have no complaints about his manners, but I’ll let you know should anything come up.”

“Oh, don’t be fooled, our wee Flea is wonderful, but he does have his faults,” Euphemia says fondly.

“Hey!” James complains.

Everyone ignores him, including Regulus who contemplates, “I have noticed that he lacks the ability to spell properly.”

Euphemia chuckles. “That’s true. He also can’t read a book without sitting upside down on an armchair and reading different parts out loud in different voices every couple minutes. And don’t ever give him a plant and expect to get it back alive. He will kill it unless you keep a very close look on it.”

“Stop bonding over all the things I’m bad at!” This properly sucks, this isn’t how James expected their meeting to go at all.

Somehow he is still being ignored.

“I saw the mostly dead plant in his room,” Regulus agrees. “I probably also would have wilted had I have to live in the midst of such a mess.”

“Ohho, his room isn’t the only thing that’s constantly messy. Despite having a father who invented a very effective hair potion James also does not know how to tame his hair,” Fleamont continues to drag James because apparently no one in this house cares about sharing positive facts about him. Great.

“To be quite frank,” Regulus says, “I am rather fond of his hair like this.”

Ah. Well. Thank you Regulus for also contradicting James’ thoughts. But at least he got a compliment out of it.

“See, Monty, I told you so,” Euphemia says triumphantly. “The youth today likes the windswept look.”

Sirius shows up around an hour after breakfast.

After sitting together and eating in a lot less silence than Regulus is probably used to, most of which was still somehow about all of James’ faults, Euphemia has somehow managed to pull Regulus into a deep conversation about, as far as James can tell, four different books at the same time. None of which James has read.

Regulus looks a lot more comfortable than he had this morning. His parents effortlessly managed to ease the tenseness out of him with jokes and genuine interest in him as a person and by the end of it he was, amongst other things, discussing potion strategies with his father and literature with his mother. Here he is very much in his element, debating someone on topics he cares about. And, as it seems, James had been right with the assumption that his mother’s books are more of what Regulus would usually read.

“Morning,” Sirius announces the second he steps out of the fireplace.

“Heyo,” James replies. “How’s Moony doing?”

“Wonderfully. He says hi.”

“Nice, I hope you also said hi from me.”

Sirius chuckles. “Obviously. We decided we’ll go to the cinema Thursday afternoon if that’s fine with you, you should be free from Quidditch then, right?”

James nods. “Sounds good, I’m in. What are we seeing?”

Sirius shrugs. “We’ll find out when we get there. Now, let me say hello to your parents and then I’ll get Reg out of here. Do you think we can distract them enough to have him not be noticed?”

“Uhh...” James throws a nervous glance to the door to his mother’s study. “I don’t think that’s going to be necessary...”

“What do you mean?” Sirius asks with a raised eyebrow. “James, what did you do?”

“Look, I didn’t do anything,” the accused tries to make an excuse. “They just assumed and I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth now, could I?”

Sirius second eyebrow joins the first. “So what did you tell them?”

James throws his hands up in exasperation. “Regulus is apparently my boyfriend now. I can’t only just go on fake dates anymore, we’re having a proper fake relationship now.”

“So much for not telling your parents. What the fuck, Prongs,” Sirius says but James can see the smirk hidden in the corner of his lips.

James whines. “I really didn’t plan to. It all just happened. And the worst thing is that they’re bloody bonding over books and how bad I am at spelling and how my hair looks terrible. I hate it here.”

That hidden smirk finally breaks out properly and quickly turns into a laugh. “Just wait until Reggie finds out you don’t know shit about the stars.”

“He already knows,” James says darkly. “He said he’ll take me to watch some shooting stars and teach me the important stuff.”

Sirius gives him a very long look that James doesn’t quite know how to interpret. “He wants to take you to watch the Perseids?” he asks eventually.

“Yeah, I think that’s what he called it. Why?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Just wouldn’t have expected him to invite you along to that. He cares about it a bit too much. Like, sometimes he doesn’t even want me to be anywhere close to him when he watches them.” Sirius furrows his eyebrows and contemplates that for a little longer before his face relaxes into a lazy smile. “But good to know, I’ll take Remus to watch them as well, it’s awfully romantic, really, I think it’ll be a nice date. If I’m not mistaken the peak should be around a new moon, so Moony should be fine with it as well.”

James just nods slowly, not completely sure he grasped all of what Sirius just said.

“Good morning, Effie,” Sirius greets Euphemia after a knock on her office door. She looks up from the book she was handing over to Regulus and her face breaks into a wide smile as she takes in Sirius’ appearance. She strides over to him and wraps him into a warm hug. “Hello, darling,” she says, then pulls away to look at him. “How are you doing? How is Remus?”

James watches in amusement as the two catch up, Sirius so calm and comfortable in her embrace as he babbles on and on about his latest date with Remus. At some point James catches a glimpse of Regulus, the book in his hand forgotten, as he is captivated by the interaction unfolding in front of him.

Eventually, Euphemia lets go of Sirius, who turns his attention to his little brother. “Since when do you wear colour?” he asks in lieu of a greeting.

Regulus throws an embarrassed glance towards Euphemia before he mumbles, “It’s James’.”

Sirius turns an accusing frown at James. The was that really necessary? is plainly visible on his face. James only shrugs helplessly.

“So it is,” Euphemia says after inspecting Regulus a little more closely. “I’ve been telling James to sort it out of his wardrobe for years. How nice that it finally found a new purpose, it looks lovely on you, Regulus.”

The longer she talks the redder Regulus’ cheeks are turning, until finally they compete with the shirt itself.

“Well. Lovely,” Sirius grumbles. “Shall we go home and face the wrath of our mother?”

It turns into a regular thing.

Walburga and Orion are still not giving up on the idea of Sirius not being allowed to date unless Regulus does, despite Regulus and James going out about every two days. They go back to the sea a couple times when the sun is out, when it’s raining they usually go back to James’. Now that his parents assume the two of them are in a relationship there is no point in not spending time at home anyway. Every time Regulus comes to his, he ends up leaving with another one of Euphemia’s books. The third time he comes, he leaves one of his own for her as well. James is equal parts fond and disturbed by the fact that Regulus gets along so well with his parents.

It’s about two weeks later when James and Regulus are sitting on James’ bed, Regulus yet again with a book in his hand, James frantically scribbling down everything he remembers from today’s Quidditch practice to implement into his own training program, when the familiar voice of Sirius halls through the room.

“Hey, Prongs. Prongsily. JP.”

“What the...” Regulus looks up from his book, scanning the room to figure out where the voice is coming from.

Unbothered, James reaches over for his nightstand to grab the mirror and hold it in front of him. “What’s up?” He can feel Regulus next to him curiously lean closer, resting his chin on James’ shoulder to peak into the mirror.

“Hello brother dearest. Brother and deerest,” Sirius says with a grin.

“What’s this–” Regulus starts but Sirius waves his hand through the air dismissively and interrupts him. “Prongs can explain it to you later if he wants. I was calling because Peter invited us to dinner later at his. Marls just told me. Pure luck the girls came by our café.”

James can see Marlene behind Sirius animatedly talk to someone else who is out of frame. At the mention of her name she whips around and peaks over Sirius’ shoulder. “Potter!” she calls and waves excitedly. “And Baby Black!” James doesn’t need to look at Regulus to know he is frowning.

“Hiya McKinnon,” James greets her happily. “How’re you doing?”

“I am so mad at you!” she shouts, pointing a finger at the mirror.

“What?” James asks shocked. “What’d I do?”

“You get yourself a boyfriend and you don’t even tell me about it?” she complains. “I had to find out from my mother! Who only knows about it because your father told her!”

“Uhhh...” James says slowly. He had not expected his friends to find out about this. He looks to Sirius, a silent question of should we tell her? but Sirius barely shakes his head. So James looks back at Marlene and says, “Sorry?”

Another face pops into frame. Lily. “You have a boyfriend?” she asks surprised. “Who? Since when?”

Regulus huffs audibly and shifts closer to James, pointedly taking his free hand into his and linking their fingers. “Hi,” he says clipped.

It’s comical the way Lily’s eyes go huge, the bright green shimmering in the sun streaming through the windows of the café. “Regulus?” she asks. “Your boyfriend is Regulus?”

“Do you have a problem with that?” Regulus asks coldly.

“No,” Lily says quickly, “I’m just surprised. How long has this been going on?”

“A couple weeks,” James says with a shrug.

“A couple weeks?” a third voice joins in. Mary, James recognises, even if he can’t see her. “Did anyone know about this?”

“I did,” Sirius says, grinning to the side, presumably at her.

“Peter and I as well,” Remus says from somewhere off-mirror.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!” Marlene says accusingly.

“I also didn’t tell my parents, Marls, they just kind of figured it out.”

Next to him Regulus sets his book aside and takes hold of James’ hand with his other hand as well, tracing the lines on his palm with his index finger. It tickles slightly and James gets momentarily distracted from what Marlene replies. “What?” he has to ask when he realises she expects an answer.

“I said your parents aren’t as important as me, I’m literally your oldest friend and you kept this important knowledge from me?”

“Well you have it now...” Sirius giggles and James glares at him. The prick could at least have the decency to help James change the subject or something, seeing as he is the reason James is in this situation in the first place. “Okay, so, what was that about a party a Peter’s?” James tries his own rescue mission.

“Yeah!” Marlene instantly jumps on the subject. “We’re all going, Dorcas will also come, so you better get your ass over there as well. And bring the pretty Black with you.”

“Hey!” Sirius protests. “I’m the pretty one!”

“Sorry Pads, I have to agree with Marls here,” James says. “You’re also very pretty though, but Regulus beats you here.” Regulus is still playing with James’ fingers but at the words he hides his face in James’ shoulder.

“Aww, look at him, he’s blushing,” Marlene coos. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but you two are adorable.”

In the mirror Sirius is pretending to throw up. Serves him right, James thinks, he can join in on some of the suffering. Although really, James doesn’t feel like he’s suffering all that much right now. Regulus fingers are still tracing patterns into his skin and James has to suppress the urge to close his eyes and just succumb to the feeling, basking in the gentle tickle of the soft pads of his fingers and the contrast of the cold rings steadily resting against the back of his hand.

“So what do you say?”

James blinks at the mirror, realising he once again did not catch a single part of the question. “Stop distracting me with your magical hand holding powers,” James complains, but doesn’t pull his hand away. “I completely missed what Lily said because of you.”

From Sirius’ side of the mirror several snorting laughs and giggles are heard. Regulus tries to let go of James’ hand, but he holds on, keeping him from moving.

“Magical hand holding powers?” Sirius asks, his eyebrows nearly meeting his hairline. “Really, Prongs?”

“Shut up,” James mutters. “Lily, save me here. What did you ask?”

It takes a while before Lily can get her laughter under control. “I was asking if you two are coming later?”

“When?” James asks, thankful they’re back on track, although Marlene is still snickering, and he’s pretty sure he can hear Remus imitating him somewhere in the background.

“Seven until whenever.”

“What do you think?” James asks quietly, ducking his head towards Regulus, who is petulantly scowling at the mirror, his cheeks still dusted a pretty pink. “Do you want to join us? You don’t have to, but they’ll be very persistent to get you there as well.”

“I don’t mind, sure, if Sirius explains to our parents why we’ll be home late...”

“Sure, will do,” Sirius says with a deep sigh.

They get to Peter’s about half past seven, carrying with them two bags of crisps, a bottle of Daisyroot Draught and, the reason for their tardiness, a net full of oranges which Regulus had insisted they also get. A weird thing to bring to a party with a bunch of young adults but James really didn’t get to have a say in the matter.

Everyone else is already there, sat on various surfaces throughout the living room, several kinds of pizza placed in the middle of the coffee table between them.

They’re greeted with cheers and bottles of questionable substances toasted towards them.

“Look at who’s showing up late!” Marlene calls. “Too busy shagging to join your friends, were you?”

“Ugh, fucking hell McKinnon, can you not?” Sirius groans which saves James the need to come up with an answer to overplay his discombobulation. “I don’t even want to have to think about my brother doing that.”

“Your brother and your best friend, Black,” Marlene cackles. “You’re holding up surprisingly well, I would have expected you to make more of a fuss about them to be honest.”

“Yeah, well, the circumstances allowed it,” Sirius grumbles, his face still scrunched up in disgust.

“So does this mean I’m finally allowed to gossip about you?” Dorcas asks Regulus from where she is sitting in Marlene’s lap.

“What do you mean ‘finally’?” Marlene asks. “Are you telling me you knew about them?” She sends frantic looks between her girlfriend and James and Regulus. “You knew about them and also didn’t tell me?”

Dorcas gives her a charming smile and a quick kiss. “I’ve known for a while, Regulus confided in me all panicky, it was cute.”

“There was nothing cute happening,” Regulus corrects indignantly. “And I wasn’t panicky. I asked your opinion and that was all.”

“Of course, Reggie,” she says. “You didn’t write me several letters and flooed over to me when I didn’t reply quick enough.”

James looks at him in surprise. “I didn’t know I left you in such a state,” he says apologetically.

“I didn’t know you told anyone,” Sirius says, enunciating the word with a raise of his eyebrows.

“You and the other two idiots knew, I don’t see why I shouldn’t also get to tell someone,” Regulus says, completely bypassing James’ statement. It is a very fair point. James doesn’t think he’d like to have to fake date someone and not be able to confide in anyone. And word hadn’t come out anyway, so Sirius really has no reason to look so betrayed at the fact that Regulus told someone about Operation Cunningly Rescuing A Padfoot. “Although I’m starting to regret it, now that my own friend wants to stab me in the back,” Regulus continues.

“Ah don’t be like that, you love me. Look, you even brought me my oranges!” Dorcas calls.

“Another thing I’m starting to regret,” Regulus mumbles, but fishes one of the oranges out of the net and throws it over to Dorcas, who clumsily catches it and immediately starts peeling it.  

“If all that’s settled now, can you two find somewhere to sit down so we can get back to discussing what to watch?” Mary asks.

Regulus eyes the unfamiliar room a little uncertainly, so James grabs his hand and pulls him to the only free space, a rather voluminous arm chair next to the one Dorcas is snuggled up on to Marlene. He gestures for Regulus to sit while he makes a move to sit down on the floor against it.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Marlene says, watching him and pointing at him with her foot, seeing as both her hands are occupied by holding her girlfriend and a slice of pizza, “No reason to be coy here, just share the bloody chair.”

“Or how about you don’t do that,” Sirius quips in from his place in between Remus’ legs on the other side of the room.

James gives Regulus a questioning look, who only takes hold of his hand once more and pulls him down onto the armchair, making himself comfortable on James’ lap, while staring his brother down defiantly.

“I hate this,” Sirius says. “Why is this happening to me.”

James wraps his arms around Regulus’ waist to pull him closer and shift him into a more comfortable position. Regulus follows willingly, leaning against James’ chest. “Get over yourself,” he says. “You’ve made out with Remus in front of me more than enough times and never once cared about how I feel about having to see that.”

Sirius points a finger and a glare at his brother. “There’s absolutely no reason to bring Remus’ and my relationship into this. Making out goes a little too far here, you’re not going to make out with James.”

Regulus holds his brother’s glare for a second, before twisting around in James’ lap and leaning in. A couple inches away from James he stops, giving him the opportunity to turn away, but James is both too baffled by the turn of events and also has kissed enough of his friends to not make a big deal out of it and isn’t completely opposed to making his best friend suffer a little in the guise of his own plan, so he stays put until Regulus closes the distance between them.

His lips are hot against James’, and so much softer than his own, constantly chapped ones. Regulus cups his face gently, almost adoringly, his abundance of rings pressing coldly against James’ cheekbones, sending a shiver down his spine.

Through the cheering emitting in the room James can hear Sirius shouting his name, a clear command for him to stop kissing his brother right away. And James wants to pull away, he really does, but then Regulus gently nips his lower lip and runs his tongue across it and James’ hands fly up into his soft curls and get tangled there all by themselves.

It’s not his fault that his lips part and that, when Regulus’ tongue slips past them and meets James’, a surprised, breathy noise escapes him.

It’s not his fault that the cold metal of the rings on the fingers that slide around the back of his neck send a jolt through him, making him slide deeper on the armchair, properly pulling Regulus on top of him.

It’s not his fault that, when Regulus whines almost needily into James’ mouth, his hands bury deeper into Regulus’ hair, pulling him impossibly closer as he deepens the kiss.

It’s really not his fault at all.

It’s something hitting him square in the side of his head that makes him pull back abruptly, rubbing the assaulted spot where Sirius had apparently chucked one of Regulus’ oranges at him. It takes him a second to shake the daze off himself and when he catches a glimpse of Regulus it becomes glaringly obvious he’s caught in a similar state. His lips are red and swollen, his cheeks dusted pink and his pupils, still fixed on James’ mouth, are blown wide.

It takes James physical effort to tear his eyes away from the sight of him and towards Sirius, because frankly, Regulus looks bloody hot and James would very much like to kiss him again.

“Go get it, Prongs!” Peter laughs loudly.

Marlene and Mary join in with an enthusiastic “whoop!”

“Don’t get it, Prongs!” Sirius disagrees angrily. “Hands off my brother.”

James lifts his hands up in surrender, holding them above his head. “Hands are off,” he croaks, his voice still stuck somewhere on Regulus’ tongue.

“No,” Regulus counters. “Put your hands back on me. I liked them in my hair.”

“I think I’ll hold off with that for a little while longer, I value them a bit too much to risk Sirius cutting them off...”

Regulus huffs angrily and throws his middle finger up towards his brother. Then, probably just to spite him, he snuggles closely against James, running his hands across James’ chest and sides.

“Can you stop this?” Sirius asks exasperated.

“No,” Regulus says shortly.

Remus chuckles. “You did kind of ask for it, darlin’.”

“I so did not ask for anything of the likes,” Sirius complains.

“Remus is right, though. You practically dared him by telling him not to,” Lily agrees. “I’d also make out with James if you told me I can’t do that.”

James perks up. “Really?” he asks. “This is what it would have taken? I could have kissed you all this time had Sirius just told you not to do it?”

Lily laughs sweetly. “Most probably, yes. Just to spite him, I would have.”

“I think we should test that theory,” James decides. “Padfoot, tell her she can’t ki–” but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, as Regulus clamps his hand over James’ mouth. “No,” he says again, this time a lot more coldly.

“Merlin, James,” Mary laughs, “You have a boyfriend who just snogged you in front of all your friends and you’re still trying to get Lily to kiss you?”

James just nods until he can finally free his mouth from Regulus’ hand by licking it until he pulls it back to wipe on James’ shirt. “Can’t hurt to try,” he says with a grin. “Lily and Dorcas are now the only ones in this room I haven’t kissed. Gotta up my stats here.”

“Maybe someday, Potter,” Lily calls and blows him a kiss, which James pretends to bite out of the air.

Regulus glowers at her and makes a move to slide off of James, who quickly wraps his arms around him to pull him securely against himself again. “Noooo, don’t go,” he complains. “I was comfortable.”

Regulus scoffs, but eventually does settle down once more.

“So, James,” Dorcas says, “As the person who presumably kissed the most people in this room–”

“I think Remus kissed as many as I did.”

“I haven’t kissed Dorcas, Marlene or Regulus, so you’re still leading,” Remus clarifies.

“–yes, well since my point still stands, who’s the best kisser?” Dorcas continues.

“Uhhh...” James looks through the round, trying to remember what it was like kissing each of his friends. Right now, the only thing he can recall, however, are Regulus’ lips on his, pushing all other memories far aside. “I know that properly snogging Sirius was super weird but I guess it wasn’t because he can’t kiss...”

“No, Sirius is a great kisser,” Remus confirms.

“So are you,” James says. “Peter is too, but he kisses the same way round as me so we were kind of struggling with who gets the bottom lip kiss. Mary, I genuinely don’t remember what it was like kissing you, I think I might have been drunk?”

Mary laughs loudly. “Oh, you so were. You were pretty shit at it as well.”

“Yeah, checks out,” James nods. “Kissing Marlene sucked. No offence.”

“None taken,” Marlene says. “I also didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, gotta be honest here, as far as I can recall Regulus was the best.”

“Eww,” Sirius says.

“Sorry, Pads, but your brother is a great kisser,” James says. “Can recommend, but not to you.”

Regulus snorts, but he seems awfully chuffed as he curls up against James’ side.

“Yeah no, thanks, absolutely no interest in ever finding out what my brother kisses like,” Sirius says, making a face. “So you can also very much keep those details to yourself. Actually, I’d quite like to forget the fact that you kissed him in the first place, so I’m voting for finally starting that film so I can think of something better.”

They settle on some film James has never heard of before and Peter turns the enchanted projector on to play the film against the living room wall.

James’ attention span is never great on a good day, but today it is particularly bad. To release some of the jittery feelings settling in his joints, he starts playing with Regulus’ hair, which helps him concentrate a little better. That is until about halfway through the film, Regulus’ hand somehow finds its way underneath the hem of James’ shirt, his fingers tracing circles just above his hipbones, his cold rings every now and then brushing across James’ warm skin and sending hot flashes through his abdomen. James is sure Regulus doesn’t realise the effect his offhanded action have on him, but at this point James has to come to terms with the fact that he’ll never know what is going on on Peter’s living room wall.

“You can’t say they’re not adorable together.” 

Slowly, the noises surrounding James are getting more prevalent, moving to the foreground of his consciousness. His eyes are still closed and he can’t yet find the strength to open them, something heavy weighing them down. Not just his eyes, though, there’s a weight pressing down on his body as well, pinning him securely down into the soft armchair below him. Warm and comfortable, like a living blanket. 

“I’d really rather not say anything of the likes. I don’t like the idea of my brother and best friend being adorable together.” 

James slowly blinks his eyes open. The lights in the room are dimmed, the film is no longer playing. James looks down at his chest and finds Regulus there, curled up and asleep, his hands fisted in the front of James’ shirt the same way he had held the blanket to his chin when he had fallen asleep in James’ bed two weeks prior. When James shifts slightly (now that he’s awake he realises falling asleep half sitting on an armchair with an entire person on top of you does not do anything good to your neck) Regulus lets out tiny noise of complaint and presses his face into the crook of James’ neck. James absentmindedly tangles his fingers through his hair until Regulus' breaths even out once more. 

When James looks around in the room, he finds that half of his friends are also knocked out. Lily and Peter are curled up together on the sofa, fast asleep, so is Dorcas on her armchair. Mary and Remus are missing, but Sirius and Marlene are still up, having moved to sit on the sofa together, from where they’re watching James sleepily blink into the room. 

“Where’s Moons ‘nd Mary?” he asks quietly. 

“In the kitchen, making tea,” Marlene explains. 

“What’s the time?” 

“About half past twelve, I think you missed the entirety of the second film.” 

“I don’t think I took in any of the first either,” James yawns. He tilts his head to press his face into the soft curls tickling his chin and closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of salty wind and oranges. Sirius distinctly clears his throat, but James is too tired and ignores it. He’s comfortable and sleepy and does not want to move. 

“James,” Sirius hisses. 

“Mm?” is all the reaction James manages to give him. 

“James,” Sirius repeats, more tenacious. 

Grumpily James emerges from his soft pillow of dark curls to look blearily at his best friend. Said best friend gives him a very significant look, then looks at the sleeping Regulus in James’ arms and back at James. 

“Sod off,” James mumbles, because he does understand what Sirius wants from him. “I’m comfy.” 

“And that’s my brother,” Sirius insists. 

James really doesn’t care right now. “We staying here?” he asks instead of complying to Sirius' wishes of getting some distance between himself and Regulus. 

Sirius shakes his head. “You can stay,” he says. “Reg and I need to go home. We actually have to be present tomorrow morning.” 

“You want to wake Regulus?” Marlene asks. “But look at him, he looks so cute like that.” 

James nods in agreement. He’s fully with Marlene here, he doesn’t think Regulus should be woken up right now. 

“It’s my father’s birthday tomorrow,” Sirius grimaces. “We kind of need to be there for that.” 

“Shame,” Marlene says. “At least Mary took a photo earlier. If nothing else, it’s nice blackmailing material.” 

“You’re going to get yourself killed, McKinnon,” Sirius warns. 

“Don’t worry, I have a hot girlfriend who’ll protect me.” 

Sirius shrugs. “If you’re so sure about that... Prongs, could you please wake up Regulus? We really should get going.” 

James shakes his head. “I don’t wanna,” he whispers and tightens his arms around the sleeping form on his chest. 

“If you don’t do it, I’ll throw an orange at him to do it myself,” Sirius says. 

James pouts, but starts carding his fingers through Regulus’ hair, softly whispering to him, “Hey, Reg, wake up.” He doesn’t want anyone to have to wake up with an orange to their head, least of all someone who sleeps this peacefully. As he starts waking up a little more himself, he also realises that an orange to the head would probably startle Regulus enough to get James hurt in the process, and he also doesn’t want that for himself. So really, waking him up by pressing his face into his hair and whispering close to his ear is the only logical way to go about this. 

It takes a while, but finally Regulus stirs. “Morning, sunshine,” James says when Regulus pushes himself up ever so slightly to blink around the room. Regulus looks entirely disoriented, his eyes bleary, his hair tousled (presumably from James playing with it so much) and he’s still holding onto the front of James’ shirt. “Sorry for waking you, but Sirius says you have to go.” 

“I don’t want to,” Regulus says, his voice heavy with sleep and he gets ready to flop back down against James and go back to sleep. 

Sirius apparently expected it to happen before James could even form a thought, as he leaps across the room and holds onto Regulus’ shoulders before he can lie down again. “Hey, not so fast,” he says lowly. “We really do need to leave. We have to eat birthday breakfast in seven hours.” 

Regulus mumbles something unintelligible that from the tone of it James is pretty sure is an insult on Sirius’ existence in slurred French, but despite his protests he lets himself be dragged off of James. 

James really isn’t happy about that at all. Without Regulus on top of him he’s suddenly very cold and feels incredibly loose in the world, as if someone removed the anchor teetering him to his existence, stopping him from floating away. He’s too tired to do anything about it or even think about what that feeling means. “See you tomorrow?” he asks hopefully, both Sirius and Regulus. 

Sirius shakes his head. “I’ll call you, but I don’t think we’ll have any time to actually leave the house.” 

James nods in disappointment. “Let me know how it goes. Say happy birthday to your father from me.” 

“Don’t think that’s such a great idea,” Sirius snorts. “But I’ll give you all the life updates tomorrow night. Sleep well, Prongs, I love you, even though you’re a little shit.” 

“Love you too,” James smiles and watches Sirius half carry Regulus out of the room. 

Sirius does call the next evening. 

“How are you doing?” is the first thing James asks when he sees him. “Did everything go alright?” 

Sirius nods. “It was surprisingly fine. We only had to be there for all the meals, other than that they left us alone. There’s currently still a party going on downstairs with all the important people trying to make an impression because obviously that’s what birthdays are for.” 

“Okay, that’s good,” James sighs with relief. He didn’t realise he was nervous about Sirius and Regulus having to attend this family event until his muscles started to relax as soon as he saw Sirius' easy smile. 

“Alright, now, Prongs, I have a wand to sharpen with you.” The easy smile drops and makes way for a scowl. 

“Huh?” James asks. “What did I do?” 

Sirius raises his eyebrows and looks at James incredulously. “You do know you’re only supposed to fake date my brother, right?” 

James nods. “Yeah, obviously, I wasn’t planning on doing anything else.” 

“Okay, then can you maybe calm it down a little with all the cuddling and snogging?” 

“Maybe you should tell that to Regulus,” James complains. “I’m not the one who’s initiating any of that.” 

“Yes, but you’re participating and a lot more likely to listen to me and not do it more just to spite me.” 

“Fair enough,” James says, “But I really don’t see the problem here, mate. I cuddle and kiss all my friends.” 

“Yes, well, Regulus doesn’t,” Sirius huffs. “So maybe give him some space there, will you?” 

“Again, I’m not the one initiating. Besides, if you don’t want anyone to know that this is all fake to make sure Operation Walburga’s Arbitrary No Kissing Ever Rule will work out eventually, maybe it’s not a bad idea for us to actually sell the act in front of people. Up to you, mate, it’s your problem we’re trying to fix here.” 

“Operation Walburga’s Arbitrary No Kissing Ever Rule?” Sirius snorts. “That’s what you came up with?” 

“Operation Wanker for short,” James says, “I made a whole list of names that all shorten to swear words.” 

Sirius barks out a laugh which at least tells James he’s not actually angry at him. “Alright, fine, you have a point. Just keep it in your pants, alright? Regulus is still my brother and it is a bit disturbing having to watch you two snog.” 

James smirks at him, “Can’t make promises here, Pads, he really is a phenomenal kisser.” 

“Ugh,” Sirius groans and does the equivalent of hanging up a telephone, by simply stuffing the mirror in his pocket, making James look at his own grinning reflection instead. 

“Hey, Padfoot!” James calls, “Sirius, I still had something I needed to tell you!” 

Sirius face appears again, his lips pursed as he watches James with distrust. “If you only called me back to tell me more unnecessary kissing facts about my brother I’ll break the mirror.” 

“No, don’t worry,” James laughs. “Uhm no, I already talked to the other ones this morning. Tomorrow’s the last day of my Quidditch program and some of the guys want to go out tomorrow night as like a goodbye. Everyone except Marlene and Dorcas said they’d come by, so if you and Reg also want to that’d be lovely. Especially since Saturday I’ll be going to Germany, so it’s like a little goodbye before a date break for you and Remus as well.” 

“Oh shit, that’s already this week?” Sirius asks surprised. “Time passes too quickly.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” James says. “But I’m with Matz only for five days so it’s not all that long anyway.” 

“Will he be there as well tomorrow?” James nods. “Oh, good, then I’ll definitely come, I want to know who I have to compete with for my best friend.” 

James bursts out into laughter. “Absolutely not necessary at all, Pads, no one could ever even marginally compete with you.”

“Still,” Sirius says with a fond smile. “I gotta mark my territory and all that. Just in case.”

Chapter Text

5 - I hate the way you dress all black and tie up your hair

The last day of the Quidditch program is simultaneously the best and worst of the entire holidays. Best, because everyone gives their all, makes proper use of the time being, several Quidditch shirts are being exchanged and promises made to see each other again the coming year. Worst, well, because it’s the last day and James knows that despite all the promises a good amount of them won’t return the following year and he’ll likely never get to see them again. He tries not to delve on that thought for too long. They still have one more evening together, where everyone that matters to James will be present as well. 

Matz is a joy to be around, and James is genuinely looking forward to spending the better part of a week at his flat in Germany. It’s the first year James has properly made friends during the Quidditch program. That’s not to say he never befriended anyone in the years prior, it’s just up until this point all the friendships were very clearly solely confined to the couple weeks of summer holidays. But Matz is enthusiastic and excited about most everything and chaotic in his very existence and James thinks he might get to stay at least occasional friends for quite some more time. 

They all convince the three trainers to extend the last training a total of four times – in the end it goes on for over an hour longer than originally planned. 

“Alright, we really do have to end this here, everyone!” one of the them finally calls. “But I’ve heard there’s a social gathering tonight for anyone who’s interested.”

‘For anyone who’s interested’ is a bit exaggerated, James has to admit, seeing as they’re meeting in a pub and therefore a handful of the people who attended the program aren’t allowed to join them. But he doubts many of the younger ones would have liked to join anyway, so he doesn’t feel all that bad that people get excluded by principle.

In the end they’re only about ten people from the program that meet at the pub, among them Richard McPhail, the current Hufflepuff Quidditch captain at Hogwarts for whom James has a whole lot of respect, and Matz, of course, who is already excited to get to meet Sirius, after James (according to Matz) wouldn’t shut up about him for a single second during practice.

Lily and Mary are already there when James arrives, and James doesn’t hesitate to introduce them around.

“So, who is this infamous Matz who tries to steal my best friend?”

James laughs at the voice of Sirius sounding through the bar over to him and bumps the accused in the side to get his attention. “May I introduce you to Sirius Black, the most wonderful and simultaneously terrible person you’ll ever meet,” James says dramatically as he turns towards the entrance of the bar, Matz mirroring him.

Sirius saunters towards them, a lazy grin on his face, his hand outstretched towards Matz, and James would have liked to continue his dramatic performance of introducing his best friend to his newest friend, but then his attention gets lost on the person walking into the foggy room behind Sirius.

Regulus is dressed in all black – long trousers that make James wonder how he isn’t dying in the summer heat, and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the top buttons undone. But more importantly, he has tucked the shirt up, folded it over to the inside, revealing his pale midriff, a stark contrast to the dark fabric of his clothes. James is well aware he is staring.

“James?”

Sirius’ hand waving in front of his face makes James jerk out of his trance. “Fucking hell,” he mutters.

Regulus comes to a halt next to Sirius, giving James a small smile which he nearly misses because he is still staring at Regulus’ waist, letting his eyes travel across the line of his ribs that are barely peeking out from underneath his shirt down to his hipbones, disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers.

Next to him Matz is starting to cackle, lightly nudging him in the side. “Do you want to introduce us as well?” he asks gleefully.

James clears his throat. “Yes. Sorry. Matz, Regulus, Regulus, Matz. He’s the one I’m staying at for the next week,” he adds towards Regulus.

“Ah, so you’re the one that’s kidnapping my boyfriend,” Regulus says and James isn’t entirely sure the accusation in his voice is entirely fake.

“Oh, I’m getting to know the best friend and the boyfriend in the same evening? How delightful,” Matz grins. He extends his hand to Regulus and Sirius, who both shake it while mustering him with the same curious and slightly mistrustful intensity. “Don’t worry, lads, I’ll take good care of James, you’ll get him back just the same. Except for maybe some additional knowledge in German phrases and a dislike for the atrocities you call bread here.”

“What is wrong with our bread?” Sirius asks indignantly.

“What is right with your bread!” Matz rebuts. “It’s not even bread. It’s just untoasted toast. It sucks.”

“Untoasted toast,” Sirius repeats, then turns to James. “James are you sure you can trust this guy? Are you sure you want to go to a country that calls bread untoasted toast?”

James laughs but shrugs. “I’ll see what the bread is all about. I mean it can’t be that big of a deal, it’s just bread.”

“Just bread,” Matz echoes and throws a hand to his chest. Sirius grins at the display of such dramatics, not dissimilar to his own. “You wound me, James. Just you wait, once I’ve shown you proper baked goods you will realise your wrongs and that all you have here are baked bads.”

Regulus scoffs. “Sounds like a terrible deal James is getting out of this. You’re just going to ruin his enjoyment of bread for the rest of his life to prove a point?”

“Gotta be honest, Reg,” James contemplates, “That sounds exactly like something you would do.”

“Ohhhh, does it?” The delight in Matz’ voice is clearly audible. “I think you and I would get along great, then, Regulus.” 

Regulus gives Matz a slow once over, neither the coldness nor the scepticism yet having disappeared from his eyes. “We will see about that.” 

The evening progresses wonderfully. At some point James finds himself in a conversation with Lily, Richard, and Richard’s best friend and co-player on the Hufflepuff team Leon Yung. As it turns out, Richard and Lily have never once talked before at Hogwarts, despite both having such important roles in the castle. James is insanely confused about this fact, which he voices for an approximate of six minutes, until Lily interrupts him shortly with the words, “Is that Barty Crouch dancing with your boyfriend there? I didn’t know you invited him as well.” 

James' first reaction is to panic – Great, so now it’s not only his close friend group that thinks that him and Regulus are dating, but also the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and if it continues like this soon the entire wizarding population of Great Britain will know and him and Reg will have to pretend in every moment of their life until Operation Abiding Remus’ and Sirius’ Eroticism is finally successful. At which point they’ll have to somehow sell to everyone that they’ve broken up if they don’t want everyone to know about the (admittedly) ridiculous plan they’ve carried out for probably far too long. 

His second reaction is to turn to where Lily is looking at the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the packed room. As soon as he spots Regulus, everything about his first thought simply poofs away, gets lost somewhere in the smoke filling the air. 

James has never seen Regulus this loose, this relaxed, this sure about his own presence in the world. He’s dancing with Barty (whom James definitely did not invite, thank you very much), his arms raised, his head tilted back slightly as he moves with the other boy, moves to the music, moves his hips in a way that makes it feel illegal to watch. 

But James watches anyway. It seems impossible to do anything but watch. He thinks he couldn’t look away if he wanted to. 

(He really doesn’t want to.) 

A strand of hair falls into Regulus’ face and he slowly cards it behind his ear, the simple motion making James’ mouth dry up. He lets his eyes travel across Regulus’ sharp jawline, across the well-defined lines of his hands, only disrupted by the assortment of heavy, silver rings on his fingers. 

James is violently reminded of that evening on Peter’s armchair two days ago when those same hands had found their way into James’ hair, to the back of his neck, under the hem of his shirt. Just the mere thought of Regulus’ rings against his skin makes him shiver, despite how hot it is in the pub. 

James has half a thought to walk onto the dance floor and move along with Regulus. To tuck that strand of hair that keeps falling into his eyes out of the way for him, maybe let his finger linger there for a while. To run his hands down his side to where his shirt stops, and then further. 

He doesn’t know if he should be thankful or angry at Barty Crouch for doing just that in his stead now. It snaps James out of his fantasy, reminds him that this – all of this – is just pretend. Regulus wouldn’t want James to touch him in such a way and James shouldn’t want– he doesn’t want it either, because this is fake. They’re pretending. They’re pretending to help out Sirius, and nothing more. James doesn’t want to hold Regulus or dance with him or kiss along his neck while he drops his head back like that. 

It doesn’t stop James from wishing all the worst on Barty Crouch, though. Doesn’t stop the twisting feeling in his sternum as he glares at Barty’s hands on Regulus’ waist, pulling him closer to move more purposefully together to the music. 

He hates him, James decides then nonsensically. He hates Barty Crouch. 

Up until this point he didn’t have any problem with the boy – he is a Slytherin, sure, but he is also one of Regulus’ friends so he couldn’t be all that terrible. James knows he is good in school and loves Quidditch, even if he doesn’t play himself. He has seen him at enough matches and even sometimes practices to know he is nearly as obsessed with the sport as James is. Which, at some point in the past, James thought was cool. Now he thinks it is just annoying. If Barty doesn’t even play himself he shouldn’t pretend to love the sport so much. He’s probably just trying to look cooler than he actually is and James hates him. 

“You’re dating Regulus Black?” Richard’s surprised voice startles James. He sends another spiteful look at Barty, who is now spinning Regulus around. There is no way Regulus isn’t professionally trained. James doesn’t think anyone can just look that perfect while dancing, there has to be more to it. 

“Yes,” he says stiffly in reply to Richard’s question. 

“Huh.” James can feel Richard’s curios look on him without having to turn to him. “I didn’t expect that.” 

“And why’s that?” The words come out a bit sharper than James intends them to. 

“I mean, come on,” Leon answers for his friend, “He doesn’t exactly seem like your type.” 

“Oh please,” Lily joins the conversation again, “Regulus is totally James’ type.” 

“What?” No he isn’t, James nearly adds but manages to catch himself just in time. It’s maybe not the best idea to tell the world his apparent boyfriend isn’t his type. But he doesn’t think he even has a type. 

“Oh come on, James. Pretty hair, extremely smart, doesn't take shit from you or fall at your feet from your mere existence, is mean to you all the time... Plus he’s great at Quidditch, he ticks like all of your boxes. He’s more your type than I ever was and you had a crush on me for years.” 

James frowns. He certainly can’t argue here, just for the fact that it would ruin Sirius’ perfect plan, but he so badly wants to argue for the sake of Sirius.

Regulus isn’t his type. He’s Sirius' brother. And alright, he is extremely beautiful and smart and getting insulted by him makes something flutter in James’ stomach and everyone who likes Quidditch is automatically cooler in James’ eyes. That doesn’t mean that Regulus is ‘obviously James’ type’, though. Mainly because James doesn’t have a type.

He’d had a crush on Lily for a couple years but other than that there’s never really been anyone that made James look more than twice at them. He doesn’t really get it, if he’s honest. Like, sure, he falls in love with people far too easily, but that’s different. He just loves people. Loves when they smile, when they talk about the things they care about, the way they hold a quill or make their tea. Lily had been different. Which means that James can’t possibly have a type. 

But then belatedly James remembers that there had actually been something like a very short lasting crush before Lily. Or maybe during Lily, he isn’t entirely sure anymore. And – well, maybe Lily has a point, because Remus definitely fits her description as well. But also, that’s Remus. Everyone had a crush on Remus at some point in their life, regardless of what kinds of people they usually like, so does that really count? James would say no. Remus shouldn’t be included in lists of what people’s types are out of pure principle, and therefore James cannot have a type.

None of that he says. Instead he keeps watching the proceedings on the dance floor. 

“I wouldn’t have expected Regulus Black to date you, either,” Leon hums. “No offence, James.” 

James doesn’t reply. 

“It’s just, well, he’s kind of scary. He seems like if you came too close to him he’d stab you.” 

Leon is now the second person telling James they would have expected Regulus to stab him. James lets his eyes travel across Regulus once more and imagines him doing just that. To his surprise he finds he rather enjoys the image of Regulus holding a dagger. “He would,” James mutters. 

Lily laughs. “You should see him with James, though. He’s sweet.” 

“Sweet?” Leon repeats doubtingly. 

“Mary showed me a photo from when we stayed over at Peter’s. They were cuddling and–” 

“Lily,” James hisses. “That’s enough.” He doesn’t think Regulus would appreciate people talking about them like that, sharing moments Regulus would probably rather not to exist with near strangers. 

Luckily Lily drops it. 

Richard isn’t done with the entire subject yet, though. He looks back and forth between James and Regulus, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “And– and you’re just fine with your boyfriend dancing like that with someone else?” 

Sure. James is fine with it. “He’s not my property,” he huffs. “I’ve done more than just dance with my friends in the past. Regulus can do whatever he wants.” 

James would prefer though if Barty didn’t do whatever he wants. Which now seems to be whispering something into Regulus’ ear, which prompts the latter to look over at James. 

Having Regulus’ eyes on him knocks James off his stride so much that it takes him a second to put a smile on. Barty laughs and says something else to him, again so very close to his ear, and the smile on James’ face gets a little wobbly until it slides off completely. He really, really hates Barty Crouch. 

“You know, James, you could just go there and join him.” There’s a teasing tone to Lily’s voice when she says it. 

James considers it for only a second. “You’re right,” he says, then grabs Lily’s hand to pull her towards the crowd of dancing people. “Dance with me.”

“What?” she yelps. “That’s not what I– I meant go dance with Regulus!” 

“He’s busy right now, you’re not, dance with me.” 

Lily sends the two Hufflepuffs an apologetic look who only shrug with a laugh and wish them lots of fun. Which James is determined to have. 

James isn’t exactly great at dancing – nothing even comparable to what Regulus is currently doing a few feet away from him – but what he lacks in ability he sure makes up in enthusiasm. 

Lily laughs brightly as James shimmies along to the music, twirls her around and does some dance moves Sirius would label nothing short of atrocious, but James doesn’t care. Lily is laughing and he joins in and if people care enough to watch them and make fun of them then good, that’s even more people who have a reason to laugh. 

Halfway through the second song – Gimme! Gimme! Gimme by ABBA, James is incredibly pleased with himself that he can actually name both the song and artist – Regulus appears next to them, gently but resolutely pushing himself between Lily and James. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Lily replies happily, and steps aside to give up her dancing spot for Regulus, who immediately takes her place. A little uncertain James puts his hands on his waist, just as he had with Lily a minute ago. Regulus’ skin is hot underneath his fingers. James is tempted to run his thumbs over his ribs, but stops himself at the last second. 

“You sure you want to dance with me? I don’t know if you saw me but I absolutely do not know how to dance.” 

“I can dance good enough for the both of us,” Regulus replies certainly. 

“I saw,” James says and sways carefully to the music. He feels a lot more self-conscious about his dancing now. Somehow he gets the feeling he should be impressing Regulus here, considering the way he had danced with Barty earlier. “You, uh... You looked really good. Earlier.” James nods his head where Regulus had been before. 

“Thank you.” 

“Did you take classes?” 

“What?” 

“You know, to learn how to dance like that…” 

Regulus smiles at that. “In theory,” he says. “I learned proper ballroom dancing and was classically trained in ballet, although I’d say the latter was rather a hindrance in figuring out how to move nicely to music.” 

“So you weren’t taught to, like, dance to Queen and Blondie?” 

The laughter that elicits from Regulus makes his entire face light up. James gets a little warmer inside. “No,” Regulus says, “You met my parents, do you really think they’d send me to lessons to dance to Muggle music?” 

“No, I guess not…” 

“I taught myself. And let my friends teach me, I guess. I go out with Barty and Evan sometimes.” 

At the mention of Barty’s name James can’t help but scowl a little. “Did you invite him tonight?” he asks. 

Regulus shakes his head. “Barty lives here in the city. It was pure chance that he was coming here tonight. Apparently Evan was supposed to be here as well, but he seems to be late.” 

Another strand of hair falls into Regulus’ eyes. Regulus tries to blow it out of his face, but it just falls back down again. This time James reaches out to tuck it gently back into place. 

“I have a hair tie, if you want,” James offers and holds up his wrist, where a black band is wrapped around it like a bracelet. 

Regulus looks at it surprised. “Is your hair even long enough to tie it up?” 

“Ehh,” James shrugs, “Not really. Sometimes I do a tiny bun at the top of my head when it bothers me when I go running. But generally I carry this one for Sirius, he always loses his and using his wand to hold his hair up isn’t always all that practical, especially when we’re around Muggles.” 

Regulus snorts. “Of course you’d carry a hair tie for my brother. Why did I even ask.” 

James only grins as a reply. 

“I’ll take it, if you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all!” James lets go of Regulus to pull the tie off his wrist and hand it over. 

The moment Regulus starts pulling his hair back James regrets his decision of offering up the elastic band. For his own sanity, really, it would have been better had he continued pushing that stubborn strand of hair out of Regulus’ eyes for the rest of the night. Because this– well... fuck.

Regulus’ hair isn’t as long as Sirius’, so half the hair Regulus cards back with his fingers falls down again, framing his face and curling behind his ears. The rest of it he collects and twists into a little ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“Stop staring, Potter, you look stupid,” Regulus hums as he finishes tying off his hair.

James clears his throat as he tries to regain at least some composure. “Well. You look extremely good. Let a guy appreciate a pretty view.”

Regulus rolls his eyes at him. “You’re ridiculous.”  But he smiles as he says it and takes hold of James again just in time for the new song to start.

All throughout the night, even as James is dragged away by Sirius and then later by a couple people from the Quidditch program, James can’t help but sneak glances at Regulus. He does look bloody hot in his cropped dress shirt and the little ponytail that barely keeps any of his hair out of his face. James doesn’t understand how no one else seems to realise this, everyone should look at Regulus and appreciate all of ... him.

(That opinion changes pretty fast, when he sees Regulus at the bar later with Barty and Evan and thrice spots people trying to chat him up. Regulus dismisses them all coldly and without showing any interest whatsoever, which somehow pleases James immensely. He still feels the urge to go over there and let even more people think Regulus is his boyfriend so they would finally lay off him. The only reason he doesn’t is because each time it happens he’s wrapped up in conversations or dances and Regulus does seem to handle himself well enough.)

They don’t stay out too long – mainly because most of the people from the Quidditch program still have to get home to a different country – but considering James still hasn’t packed any of his things for his stay at Matz’ home the next day he isn’t all too mad about that. If he can manage to get some sleep and pack a bag then honestly good.

When James leaves Lily and Mary have already left and James, maybe a little self-centred, assumes Sirius, Remus and Regulus would leave along him. Of course he should have expected Remus and Sirius to want to drag out their date activity as long as the magic allowed them to, but in no way would James have ever expected Regulus to want to stay out longer as well.

“Evan and Barty are staying a while longer,” he explains with a shrug, “I haven’t danced with Barty nearly enough for the night.” And James can’t help the vile look he’s throwing in Barty’s direction at that.

“Have fun,” he says nonetheless. He doesn’t know how to say goodbye here. He doesn’t like saying goodbye.

“You too,” Regulus replies. He hovers for a second and James gets the impression he is also not great at goodbyes.

“Your hair tie!” Regulus suddenly remembers and reaches up to pull it out of his hair.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” James says quickly. “Keep it, I have enough of them. If Sirius ever needs one you can give it to him if you want.”

“Alright,” Regulus says with a small smile. “Thank you.”

And then they’re standing in front of each other again, silently waiting for one of them to leave.

James wonders if he should kiss Regulus farewell. To keep up appearances of their fake relationship. Maybe just to kiss Regulus.

Regulus is still watching him and for just a moment his eyes flick down to James’ lips and for a hopeful second James thinks that maybe Regulus wants to kiss him too.

It’s Sirius tackling him into a hug that breaks the moment at last. “Prongs!” he wails, “I’m going to miss you so much!”

“I’ll miss you too, Padfoot,” James mumbles and returns the hug tightly. “But I’ll talk to you while I’m gone and you better talk back to me and it’s only a couple of days anyway,” he tries to console Sirius as much as himself.

Over his shoulder he can see Regulus give him a tiny wave before he shuffles off back to join Barty on the dance floor, ducking their heads together and whispering something to each other.

And as James drags out his over dramatic goodbyes with Sirius, he is only a teeny tiny bit annoyed at his best friend for making him miss the opportunity to kiss his little brother again.

Matz lives in a tiny two-room flat with a friend of his, a girl who, to James’ surprise, turns out to be a Muggle.

“I didn’t go to a boarding school, you really expect me to just drop all of my childhood friends just because I can do stuff that they can’t? I mean Jutta can do plenty I can’t and she’s not ending our friendship over it.”

“Don’t you have to keep it all a secret, though?” James asks confused. “What about the Statute of Secrecy and all that?”

“I don’t really know how it works in the UK,” Matz admits, “but here it’s kind of inevitable that your close friends and family find out about it. I mean, we’re still not allowed to do magic in front of people who aren’t magic, but it’s not really something you can keep secret. I mean how do Muggleborns do it in England? Do you just not tell your extended family? Do you have to find yourself an entirely new group of friends or do they just expect you to lead a double life?”

James has to think about that for a while. He knows that Lily’s family knows about her being a witch – at least her parents, obviously, and her sister, who Lily cries about sometimes because she’s being horrible to Lily about it all. But other than that James actually doesn’t know if she has friends at home who know about her. Same with Mary. He’s pretty sure Mary mentioned a girl in her street once, but does she know? James has no idea. He tells Matz as much, who looks at him in utter disbelief. “How have you never questioned your own society?”

“I didn’t really have to?” James tries to defend himself but he realises how bad that sounds. “Look, I grew up surrounded practically only by wizards and was only ever told that I can’t tell Muggles about my magic, which didn’t bother me much because most of the last couple years I’ve spent living in a castle that only has access to other wizards and witches. I do really want to know now as well, though. I’ll have to ask around when I’m back home. So all your friends know you’re a wizard?”

Matz shakes his head. “Not all of them, just the ones who wouldn’t think I completely lost it when I tell them. It is still a bit of a strange thing to have to explain to people, you know? Especially since you’re not allowed to actually show them magic. But I have enough friends who I trust enough to tell them the truth so it’s all fine.”

James meets those same friends the very next evening. They’re a lively group of people who all met several years ago in school, some of them now studying in university, some already working real adult people jobs in the Muggle world which James can’t hear enough about. (One of them used to be a bricklayer for a year but due to being incredibly bad at laying bricks – and also very much hating building walls – recently started working in a firm that helps people with their taxes. It takes about thirty minutes and a lot of making fun of James before he understands what exactly taxes are, and even then he isn’t entirely sure what’s going on with the Muggle money system because apparently they don’t just have all their physical money lying around in one central underground place.)

They meet up to play cards and drink beer (disgusting stuff that’s so much worse than butterbeer, but when James voices that he gets scandalous looks from four different people and quickly shuts up and just gets himself some fizzy drink instead) and they’re all so very fun to hang out with, really, they are. But maybe that is the entire reason why he misses the Marauders all the more. Matz and his friends are lovely, but they’re simply not Remus or Peter and definitely not Sirius. James is enjoying himself, he truly is, but the more they laugh and the more jokes they make, half of which James doesn’t get because they’re German puns and based on what he assumes are years of inside jokes, the more he wishes his own friends were here as well.

That night James casts a Muffliato around the pull-out couch that he sleeps on and whispers Sirius’ name into the two-way mirror.

It doesn’t take long for grey eyes to replace James’ own reflection.

It only takes a second longer for James to realise he isn’t looking at his best friend.

“Regulus?” he whispers surprised. (He knows Matz can’t hear him through the spell. He still feels strange speaking at a normal volume in someone else’s room with them sleeping just a few feet away.)

Regulus looks abashed as he smiles at the mirror. “Hey.”

“Hi,” James replies startled. “Why do you have the mirror? Is Sirius okay?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry I... borrowed it from Sirius’ room. I didn’t know how it worked so I just hoped for you to call.”

“Why? Is everything okay?”

Regulus nods. “Just wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” James is sure he’s blushing. He’s not entirely sure why.

“Sirius is okay, though,” Regulus adds quickly. “I can give the mirror back if you want to talk to him...?”

James shakes his head. “This is nice,” he says. “Don’t– Let me call him tomorrow, yeah? But I like seeing you, too. I got so used to seeing you every two days it’s really a bit odd not to have a date today.”

Regulus laughs lightly. “Sirius has been mopey about that all day as well, since he can’t go on a date with Remus or at least see you instead. He actually joined me when I went to the bookshop today because he was so bored, can you believe that?”

James tries to imagine Sirius between the crammed aisles of Regulus’ little bookshop. It doesn’t quite work. “Not really...”

“He was nearly as annoying about it as you,” Regulus admits.

“Hey!” James complains. “I wasn’t annoying!”

Regulus only raises his eyebrows.

“I mean I can’t have been that annoying, you agreed to go out with me because of it.”

“Oh no, Potter, you misunderstood,” Regulus huffs. “I agreed to go out with you because you fully annoyed me into it. I hoped it would somehow make you less annoying.”

“And?”

“I’m still hoping.”

That startles a bright laugh out of James. “I’ll yet annoy you into liking me,” he promises. “I seem to be on the right track already.”

Regulus rolls his eyes and James realises he actually missed that. Not just the eye roll pointed at him, but just talking to Regulus. Teasing him and being gently insulted in return. Seeing him, making him smile... At some point during the last four weeks it turned into such a routine, James never stopped to appreciate how far the two of them had come, how much it all meant to him. How much Regulus meant to him.

“What?” Regulus asks quietly.

“Hm?”

“You were staring kind of... I don’t know, you went all melty.”

“Melty,” James repeats.

“Yes,” Regulus says defiantly.

“Melty,” James repeats once more. “I thought you were supposed to be a poet.”

“Shut up,” Regulus mutters, his face flushing slightly.

“Make me,” James grins.

Regulus gives him a long measuring look, then the mirror turns into a normal mirror and James is left staring at his own grinning reflection.

“No! No, Regulus, come back!”

But the mirror stays void of grey eyes and dark curls and James pouts at himself.

“This is absolutely not what I meant when I told you to make me shut up,” James whines. “Please come back? At least so I can say goodnight and you can gloat about having won this argument.”

At that Regulus does reappear, sighing in exasperation.

James smiles at him brightly. “Thanks!”

“Don’t think me coming back makes me having won this argument any less.”

“’Course not,” James reassures him. “Definitely a win for you here.” But his smile widens into a smug grin. He’s fully aware he’s won at least half of this round and he knows Regulus knows too. He’ll stay quiet about it, though, just to please him a little.

“Goodnight, James.”

“Nighty night,” James replies happily. “It was lovely seeing you. Sleep well, dream of all the beautiful and perfect things, like me,” he adds with a wink, which earns him yet another eye roll and a dark blush across Regulus’ cheeks.

When he closes his eyes a few minutes later he’s still smiling.

“I wanted to call you yesterday but the mirror just disappeared? It literally didn’t exist, I checked everywhere.”

“You sure you didn’t just lose it?” James asks. He realises it’s a bit mean considering he knows exactly where the mirror was yesterday but he can’t help but tease Sirius a little about it. (He also doesn’t quite want to tell Sirius he talked to Regulus instead of him last night. There’s no reason he should keep it a secret and yet James feels like this is just his to know, his and Regulus’.)

“I didn’t, I swear! I looked everywhere and I know I looked for it on my night stand several times but it wasn’t there until I checked again tonight!”

“Maybe Kreacher borrowed it to make himself look prettier,” James suggests with a smirk.

“Ugh, I hope not, he better keeps his fingers away from my stuff. But if he did he absolutely failed, he still looks just as much as a mouldy peach as he did yesterday. Anyway, how’re you doing? How’s Germany?”

“Matz was right. The bread here really is better and I hate it. I’m going to come back home with the knowledge that I’ll only get to have baked bads for breakfast every day. My life is ruined.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Maybe so, but I’m right. Plus, you’re one to talk, Mr. Dramatic-is-my-middle-name.”

Sirius barks out a laugh. “I haven’t had the chance to be properly dramatic since you’ve been gone, it’s a tragedy.”

“I see talking to me already fixes that ever so slightly,” James grins.

“It does,” Sirius agrees. “Man, Prongs, I miss you a lot. And not just ‘cause I couldn’t go on a date in days now. I just fucking miss you.”

“I miss you too, Padfoot,” James hums. He really does. It’s probably not very healthy to miss your best friend after just a couple days of not having seen him, and yet here they were. “But hey, tomorrow’s the last day of not getting to see each other! And then the day after tomorrow if you want you can come to mine in the evening and we can catch up?” James is practically pleading at the end. He very much wants Sirius to visit him as soon as possible.

“Yes please,” Sirius agrees. “Sounds good. I need all the details.”

“I mean I could just give them to you now,” James hums.

“That’s less fun,” Sirius decides. “Are you doing anything nice for your last evening tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, we’re going out with a bunch of Matz’ friends. They’re all really cool as well, I like them a lot.”

“Don’t like them too much please.”

James energetically shakes his head. “I played cards with them yesterday and it was great but the entire time I just thought about how my friends are cooler and I’d loved to have you here as well. You’d get along with the bunch. One of Matz’ friends is studying Astrophysics. It’s like Astronomy but more numbers I’ve been told.”

“I can’t decide if that sounds really cool or really dreadful. Maybe I should come by as well some time to make up my mind about that.”

“You should,” James agrees. “Peter too, I think he’d like the number aspect of that. He’d hate the way they play chess, though, they’re all even worse at it than I am and just kept making up new rules in the middle of the game, it was hilarious.”

“Oh, Peter would despise that,” Sirius says gleefully. “We should absolutely do that as well next time he wants to make one of us lose to him again.”

James wakes up the next morning insanely tired. He had kept talking to Sirius until long after midnight – they hadn’t realised how much time had passed, only remembering James was ahead by an entire hour when it was already far too late. Still, James refuses to sleep in. He only has one and a half days left with Matz and he would not be spending that asleep. So in the end he drags himself out of bed with about five hours of sleep (although at this point he is somewhat used to that. What with planning pranks at night and going running in the early morning hours he has periods where five hours is a very generous average of sleep he gets).

“You look tired,” Matz makes the astute observation at the breakfast table.

“Uh, yeah, I might have stayed up a little long on a call yesterday.”

“A call?”

“I have this two-way mirror,” James explains, “You can talk to someone else through it, it’s really cool.”

“Huh. That does sound really cool...” Matz takes a big gulp of his coffee before he continues. “So you talked to your boyfriend then?”

“Uhm, no,” James says slowly. “My best friend, Sirius.”

“Ah, yes, I remember him... Are they actually siblings?”

“Hm?”

“Regulus and Sirius. I assumed as much because they look nearly the same–”

“They don’t,” James mutters. The more time he spends with Regulus the more apparent the differences between the brothers become to him. “But yeah, they’re brothers.”

“So what’s it like dating your best friend’s little brother?” Matz grins.

James opens his mouth, then closes it again. He takes a deep breath and tries again. “Okay I’m telling you a secret here, don’t tell anyone else. Not as if anyone here would actually care anyway...”

Matz peaks up expectantly, a curious glint in his eyes.

“So... I’m not... actually, uhm, dating Regulus.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re just pretending,” James explains. “It’s a bit of a long story, really, but basically Sirius’ parents cursed him so now he can’t go on dates unless Regulus goes on dates, so we made this entire plan which isn’t working out quite as well as we had hoped it would. It was supposed to just be one fake date but we kind of fell into a proper fake relationship along the way.”

Matz blinks at him slowly. He looks a little like a sheep when he does it, James ponders. “What the fuck?”

James only shrugs.

“Are you sure you’re just fake dating? I mean I saw the two of you interacting at the party last weekend. You looked extremely äh–” he searches for a word, waving his hands through the air, “smitten? I guess? Like you were practically drooling when he arrived.”

“I wasn’t,” James automatically disagrees. But when he thinks back, thinks about Regulus’ waist contrasted by his black silky shirt and the rings glinting on his fingers he catches himself ‘practically drooling’ just from the memory.

“So is this like a fake dating thing where you’re actually crushing on him for real but hide your feelings because it’s supposed to be only fake?”

James frowns and shakes his head. “I don’t have feelings for him. He’s just my best friend’s little brother.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Matz swirls the rest coffee in his mug around as he scrutinises James. “You know, someone can be your best friend’s little brother and also a person you have a crush on. These two things are not mutually exclusive.”

“I know,” James pouts. He does know. That doesn’t change the fact that Regulus is Sirius’ little brother and therefore James can’t have feelings for him.

Doesn’t.

Have feelings for him, that is.

“Anyway, it’s not like it matters anyway. Regulus only barely got over the hating me stage and we’re not doing it for much longer, like Walburga – their mother, sorry – she has to realise her stupid plan of stopping Sirius from dating is stupid and lift the curse eventually.”

“Okay I’ll get to Regulus’ feelings here in a second,” Matz says hastily, “But first, go over this with me. So Sirius can’t go on dates?”

“Unless Regulus goes on dates at the same time.”

“So you decided to go on fake dates with Regulus?”

James nods.

“How many fake dates have you been on so far?”

A shrug. “Dunno, lost count. It’s been a couple weeks.”

Matz gives him the most incredulous look James has ever seen. Not even Peter has managed to look at him this exasperated before. “Has it ever occurred to you to just pretend to go on dates?”

“That’s ... what we’re doing,” James says slowly.

“No, no,” Matz says, waving his coffee mug around agitated. “No, I mean like. Has it ever occurred to you to only pretend to go on dates? Like, the two of you just agree on a time, leave the house at the same time and then go on separate ways and do your own thing?”

James frowns. “But that wouldn’t work. Regulus has to go on a date otherwise Sirius can’t go out with Moony.”

“Yes,” Matz nods encouragingly. He looks as if he’s waiting for James to come to some kind of revelation. James only blinks at him in confusion.

“Come on, James, I know you’re not stupid.”

“All my friends would like to disagree with you on that.”

A snort escapes Matz, but with a shake of his head the probing look is back. “So, you couldn’t not go out together because otherwise Sirius couldn’t have gone on dates. Right?”

“Right.”

“So why would you think going on a fake date would work?”

Now it’s James’ turn to look at Matz like he’s a bit slow. “Because it literally worked?”

“Why would it, though? You said yourself you can’t pretend to go on dates, yet you’re telling me you’ve pretended to go on dates?”

Slowly, like dew drops collecting on grass, what Matz is trying to get at dribs bit by bit into his mind. But he refuses to think this out loud, formulate the thought at all, because that would simply be absurd.

Matz is less avers to it, however. “Has it occurred to you that your weeks of fake dates were actually just weeks of properly dating Regulus?”

James presses his lips together defiantly. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense at all because he went about this with the intention of it being fake. “There must be a flaw in the curse,” he mumbles. “We intended for it to be fake dates. I’m pretty sure for it to be a real date we would have wanted it to be one.”

Matz grins. “Just think about it,” he says, before biting into his slice of bread.

James thinks about it, alright. Truth be told he misses most of his last full day in Germany due to the fact that he does nothing but think about Regulus.

James doesn’t want to admit it, but Matz kind of has a point with his theory and James is genuinely surprised none of his friends or at least Regulus has pointed out this flaw in the plan’s logic before. Because why would Walburga and Orion’s plan fall apart by faking a date?

Then again, maybe it only needed them to believe that Regulus was dating for it to get around the magic. Because James is still convinced that for something to be a date there has to be the intention of it being a date. The idea that he just went on dozens of actual, real proper dates without realising it is nothing short of absurd.

But Merlin what if... What if maybe, possibly, James does have the tiniest of crushes on Regulus? And it was just his subconscious deciding that his fake dates were actually real dates? Because Regulus... well, James really can’t deny that he finds him incredibly attractive. He might have shitty working eyes, but he does have eyes and Regulus is extremely beautiful on a normal day and bloody hot on a good one. And yeah, maybe James enjoys arguing with Regulus a little too much. Is aware that the insides of his stomach feel like they are blushing when Regulus takes all his points apart and follows up with a witty insult. James wouldn’t mind if the rest of his life was filled with debating Regulus about the most mundane things and listening to him read French poetry, and if he could maybe kiss him again some time in between... Merlin, kissing Regulus really had left his head spinning and James would more than like to do that again.

“Drink up,” the once-bricklayer-now-accountant friend of Matz says brightly and pushes a tiny glass full of clear liquid his way. Somehow James has managed to let the entire day pass by him with nothing but Regulus on his mind and now he’s here – for the last evening with Matz, in some Muggle bar with all of Matz’ friends, loud music that James can’t understand blaring through the smoke filled air, an assortment of colourful glasses on the table between them.

“What’s that?” James asks and eyes the shot glass he got handed suspiciously.

The accountant friend elbows him friendly in the side. “Try it and find out,” he grins.

Everyone else lifts their respective glasses as well, before they all throw it back in sync.

Just like with the beer James doesn’t enjoy the taste all that much. He thinks Peter would like it. It vaguely tastes like cough medicine but has about the opposite effect on his throat, leaving it hot and scratchy. But he’s learned his lesson from his beer complaint and doesn’t try to criticise any other German alcoholic beverages, just tries to stifle a cough and takes a sip of his lemonade to wash it down.

“Did you like it?” one of the other friends – James forgot her name, something with F or maybe S – asks.

“Uhhh...” James stalls.

“Leave him, Beate–” ah, well maybe not an F then... “–let’s get him something he might actually enjoy. What do you usually drink?”

James lifts up his glass of lemonade with a grin, which earns him a few laughs. “Something less herbal-y and more fruity is more my thing, I think. I don’t think I’ve really had anything of the likes though,” he nods to the drink menu in the middle of the table.

That’s how for the next couple hours James keeps getting ordered new drinks of increasingly more colourful nature. He knows he’s far from sober anymore and should probably slow down a little, but he’s having fun and Matz’ friends are very enthusiastically encouraging him, suggesting more and more ridiculous sounding cocktails that James can’t not try, especially since they’re all more than happy to join in.

The longer the night grows, the more he drinks, the less distracted he gets by his thoughts of Regulus, getting drawn in by the laughs of the people around him, the sloppy games of cards played across a sticky table, the ridiculous attempts of teaching him German words that get longer by the minute. James is convinced at least all of them are completely made up. He’s so preoccupied with trying to pronounce Streichholzschächtelchen and questioning why the people around him are so pressed on his answer about whether he thinks a chocolate spread should have a feminine or neutral article that he does an actual triple take when, from the corner of his eyes, he spots dark, soft curls. The words die in his mouth and dissipate halfway across his lips as he stares after the person.

Narrow hips, a black shirt, a sharp jaw.

James nearly gets out of his chair to follow the person, to bury his hands in his hair and press him against the wall he’s leaning against, press against him, press their lips together…

It takes him a second to realise it’s not Regulus. That Regulus is miles and miles away, in a different country, a different time zone, probably already fast asleep. When it settles in the realisation is tinted with disappointment. James sinks back into his seat deflated, his eyes still glued to the person.

It takes him another second to realise that even if it was Regulus he shouldn’t do any of those things either. They’re not dating. No matter what Matz is saying, no matter how much James is thinking about it, Regulus is not actually his boyfriend and therefore James can’t just snog him senseless whenever he wants to, even when everything in him is screaming at him to do just that.

He gives the stranger another look over. He’s taller than Regulus, his hair slightly shorter, no rings adorning his fingers. For a second he still debates going over there and introducing himself. Only for a second, though. No sooner does he have the thought he already shakes it off again. He doesn’t want to chat up some stranger. They weren’t... Him and Regulus weren’t dating, and yet the thought of making out with someone else feels somehow ... wrong. All of this wrong.

James shakes his head, shakes the feeling away and turns back to the conversation around him. “I think it should have a masculine article,” he says to the question at hand, mainly because this was never an option handed to him. The shouts of outrage erupting from all sides around him make him grin with mischievous glee, adequately distracting him once again.

“Regulus,” James half whispers. He’s definitely too drunk for this. At least he remembered to use the Muffliato, glad for the bookcase in the middle of the room shielding him from view. Although, from the snoring coming from the other side Matz is most definitely already asleep. “Reggie.”

If James had had any less to drink he might think about how this is an entirely stupid idea. If Sirius has the mirror – which really, is the more likely scenario here, him and Regulus didn’t exactly fixedly decide that he would steal the mirror again tonight – but if Sirius has the mirror he’ll figure out that James is trying to drunk call his little brother. Might not be the smartest course of action. And yet– “Starboy. Baby Black. Regulus. Reg.”

Regulus crumpled face appears on the other side of the mirror, blinking blearily at James. It makes him smile, sleepy Regulus is something he’ll never tire of. It makes him want to crawl into bed with him and card his fingers through his curls until he falls asleep again. Or wakes up properly. Either would be fine with James, as long as he gets to witness it. Regulus looks to the side, presumably at an alarm clock sitting on his bedside table and groans. “Merde, James.”

“Fuck, I like it when you speak French,” James mumbles.

“Why are you awake? Isn’t it three in the morning for you?”

“Probably.” James rolls onto his back, holding the mirror up above his head. “I miss you.”

The blush creeping up on Regulus’ cheeks sends a swoop through James’ stomach.

“You’ll be back home tomorrow,” Regulus says, a hint of annoyance in his voice, although James is not entirely convinced it’s real. “No reason to wake me up in the middle of the night.”

James hums, not even trying to sound apologetic, because he really couldn’t be sorry about this. Seeing Regulus, his still flushed face and the glare even shining through his tiredness... How could James regret any of his decisions when they got him here?

“I tried to call you earlier, but it didn’t work.”

“Oh,” James breathes out, disappointment filling the words. “I didn’t notice. We were out drinking,” he says, “there was a guy who kind of looked like you and it was terrible, Reg. Awful. I wanted to kiss him so badly because I thought of kissing you so much and Merlin, Reg, when you kissed me... I don’t think I’ve ever kissed anyone like that, it was perfect. You were perfect.”

Regulus frowns. He looks a lot more awake now and he frowns at James, which he doesn’t understand. Regulus shouldn’t be frowning, he should be blushing more, should be smiling, James wants to see him happy. Wants to make him happy.

“You kissed someone else?” he asks, his voice carefully level.

James violently shakes his head. It leaves him rather dizzy and he has to take a second to refocus his eyes on Regulus’. So grey. Like summer rain. Sending a shiver down his spine while keeping him warm from the very core of his body. “I couldn’t,” he says when he finds his voice again. “He wasn’t you.”

“Oh.” Barely a breath.

“I think you ruined me a little,” James admits with a groan, “When you kissed me at Peter’s. You ruined all future kisses for me, they’d never compare.”

“You don’t think I could kiss you like that again?” Regulus huffs.

It punches a breath out of James. The blushing in his stomach is back. “I think you should try.”

“Is that a dare, Potter?”

James groans again and closes his eyes for a second, revelling in the sharpness of Regulus’ voice, the way his name sounds out of his mouth. James wants to taste it, wants to bite it. Eat it up and swallow it, slowly, while Regulus’ voice cuts him open from the inside, sharp and delicious and so very lovely.

“If you woke me up just to fall asleep on me I’m going to murder you.”

James frees one hand off the mirror, trailing it down his chest. He pushes it below his shirt, running his fingers across his hipbones, drawing out circles the same way Regulus had done just a couple days ago. “I’d like that.” The words come out a lot breathier than intended.

“You– what?”

James opens his eyes again, hungrily taking in Regulus’ startled expression. “People keep thinking you’d stab me for asking you out,” he says. His fingers find their way underneath the waistband of his boxers. “I wish you had.”

Regulus looks at him with equal parts worry and confusion, his pretty lips slightly parted. “Are you... James, are you okay?”

“I’m–” he has to bite back a moan when his fingers brush against himself, slowly curling around his length. “I’m thinking about you with a dagger,” he stutters out. “You’re– fuck... bloody hot when you’re pissed off.”

Regulus looks at him with wide eyes, “Merlin, how drunk are you?”

“So drunk,” James croaks, “But you’re also hot when I’m sober. F–fuck I wish I could kiss you right now.”

Regulus drops his head down on his pillow and into it mutters, “Tu me tues, James.” This time James doesn’t manage to stifle his moan.

Regulus’ head immediately snaps up again, his cheeks now tinted crimson red. “Putain, are you– are you getting off right now?”

“No,” James lies, followed by a moan as he twists his wrist just right. “Keep talking in French.”

But Regulus doesn’t. Doesn’t say anything, only stares at James with his summer rain eyes, his red lips forming silent words he can’t make out.

“Please, Reg.” He’s so far past caring that it comes out as a whine, practically begging.

This seems to jostle Regulus who starts talking, stumbling over his words as he speaks seemingly without thinking about any of what he’s saying. “Elle est retrouvée. Quoi? – L’Éternité. C'est la mer allée avec le soleil...” The words keep flowing, pretty rhymes James doesn’t understand. While they seem to calm down Regulus, they have more or less the opposite effect on James.

James sees stars, sees a star, the most beautiful star he’s ever seen, dark curls and grey eyes and red glistening lips that wrap around words so prettily James wishes he could be a single syllable uttered by him.

He sees a star and he sees stars and the blushing in his stomach extends throughout his body, building up until he can’t hold it any longer, until, with a moan, it’s all released.

“Ah, f–fuck, Reg– Regulus.”

Regulus stutters to a halt, exhaling short, heavy breaths as he unblinkingly watches James settle back down into his pillow.

James turns on his side, resting the hand holding the mirror on the mattress next to him. Looking at Regulus makes him feel like he should smile, so he does. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbles, his eyelids now growing heavy, but he refuses to let them close just yet. “I want to look at you forever.”

“You’re drunk, James,” Regulus croaks.

“I’ll tell you again when I’m not,” the words are joining his eyelids, gaining weight, struggling to make it out of his mouth. “Next time I see you.”

“Okay,” Regulus whispers.

“’m falling asleep.”

Regulus nods.

“Sleepy well, Reg. Dream of me.”

James barely gets to hear the answer before his eyelids finally drift close and he’s pulled into comfortable darkness. “I’ll try. Goodnight, James.”

Chapter Text

6 - I hate that when I turn around you are always there 

James wakes up rather miserably.

They had forgotten to close the curtains the previous night when they stumbled back into Matz’ room, too drunk to care about their future selves to do them this small favour at least. And while James usually likes waking up from a sunbeam warming up his face he absolutely cannot stand the brightness right now. His head is drumming, his stomach is queasy and his boxer shorts are stuck rather uncomfortably to his leg.

It’s that last fact that drums against the inside of his skull even more painfully, a thought, half a memory, pressing to the forefront of his mind. If it hadn’t been for the rather obvious evidence James would have loved to brush it off as a dream, a hallucination. But then he spots the mirror lying next to him, and all the events of the previous night come rushing back in.

“Oh, fuck,” James groans and hastily gets up. He makes it to the bathroom just in time before he throws up, only partly from the copious amounts of cocktails the previous night.

He called Regulus last night.

He called Regulus last night while he was very, very drunk and had been thinking about him all day.

He had gotten off to Regulus, whom he is fake dating, to the thought of kissing Regulus again, to the thought of Regulus holding a knife to his throat, to Regulus talking to him in French.

And Regulus knew all that, because.

Because –

He had gotten off to Regulus while Regulus was talking to him, could see him, very drunk, in the middle of the night.

A new wave of nausea washes over James and he has to bend over again, retching up even more stomach fluids that burn through his throat, the opposite way the alcohol had the previous night. When his stomach calms down momentarily he thoroughly rinses his mouth before getting in the shower, taking way longer than he usually would, trying to wash the shame from the previous night away.

It doesn’t work.

Matz is already up when James comes to the kitchen and he looks decisively too chipper.

“How are you not dying?” James asks, “You had at least as much to drink as I did.”

“I’m not such a lightweight as you are,” Matz teases. “And I did also have some of this already,” he adds graciously and pushes a glass filled with a steaming, purply glimmering liquid over to James. “Drink up, you’ll feel better.”

James does as he’s told. Despite the steam the liquid is cold and faintly tastes of grapes. The second it touches his tongue James feels better, and once he’s emptied his glass most of the nausea is gone. What remains is a steady queasiness, anxiety rising from his stomach to his throat as he can’t shake off the feeling the last night left him with.

It’s not much later that James has to say goodbye to Matz. He dreads it all, not just because he’s going to miss his new friend (though they do promise to stay in touch, and James believes it’s not just empty words this time), but also because the realisation that Regulus had snaked his way into James’ filthy fantasies had left him with so much more he has to think about. All things he’d rather figure out before he has to go on his next fake date.

On top of that, his transportation back home is another Portkey and James already hates those on a good day. With his still anxiously upset stomach he barely manages to catch himself standing in the garden of Potter Manor before he already doubles over and has to use all his willpower not to throw up again.

“Wow, you look like shit.”

James snaps up again, his head spinning but his eyes wide as he looks at his best friend, lazily leaning against the fence, obviously having anticipated James’ arrival.

Well.

Fuck.

In all his panicking about having to figure out what all his feelings mean, what those feelings he has for Regulus are, he completely forgot that it isn’t just Regulus he has to worry about.

This is about Regulus, who is also Sirius’ little brother.

Fuck, how is he supposed to figure out his feelings for Regulus when he can’t talk them through with Sirius? More so, when he very much has to hide from Sirius that not even twenty hours earlier James was getting off to his little brother?

“Merlin, Prongs, keep your excitement about finally seeing me again down a little, would you? You’re practically smothering me here.”

“Shit, sorry,” James croaks and quickly goes to wrap Sirius in a tight hug. “Portkey took me properly out.”

“Last night still has you feeling a little sick?”

James pales at the words and feels his stomach drop even further before he realises Sirius was probably not talking about his call with Regulus. He clears his throat. “Yeah, man, they made me drink all sorts of stuff yesterday...”

“Come on, we’ll get your things inside and you can tell me all about it. Monty promised to cook extra fancy tonight, I think he assumed the poor German students didn’t feed you properly.”

“I had lots of bread,” James says. “T’was good.”

Sirius snorts. “Tell me about all the bread details.” He slings James’ bag over his own shoulder, and his free arm around James’ and drags him towards the house.

After he quickly checks in with his parents and gives them a rough update about his holidays abroad, he goes up to his room and immediately lets himself fall onto his bed. Sirius is quick to follow, just flopping himself down on top of James, which punches an umpf out of him.

Merlin, he really had missed Sirius an awful lot.

As James starts putting lots of tiny braids all throughout Sirius’ hair he tells him about his time with Matz – skilfully evading any mention of Regulus-adjacent things that happened. Sirius listens attentively, asks for elaboration several times, doesn’t shy away from making fun of James for getting far too drunk, and tries to pronounce all the new words James was taught. (The latter James is pretty sure now only has the effect of a secret telephone game, seeing as he himself fails to pronounce them properly and therefore can’t sufficiently correct Sirius.)

Afterwards Sirius talks about his own week. He met up with Peter and Marlene once, and once with Lily and Remus to write an essay for school since that was the only way he could get around to seeing Remus at all. He also tells James about that afternoon he went with Regulus to the bookshop in London – here James has to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from telling Sirius he already knew about that. Overall the conclusion is that James has had a far better week than Sirius and Sirius is endlessly glad that James is finally home again.

“I missed you so much,” Sirius ends his retelling and tightens his arms around James. “Life is a lot better with you around.”

“Can’t argue with that at all,” James hums. “I’m really glad I can annoy you in person again.”

“Mmm, me too.” A long pause, then, “I do also really miss Moony, too. We were thinking, maybe we could do another date tomorrow afternoon?”

James freezes. Tomorrow.

No... It’s too soon. He hasn’t figured out anything yet, he hasn’t even had the time to think yet, he can’t see Regulus again just yet. He doesn’t know how to explain to him what happened, how to not make him hate him again and –

He is starting to panic again, he realises, so he tries to inhale slowly and stutters, “I don’t– I mean– I–”

He doesn’t know how to say no.

Sirius, luckily, comes to his aid as he always does. “Hey, if tomorrow doesn’t work for you that’s fine, don’t stress about it, James,” he says gently.

“Are you sure?” James asks quietly. “You haven’t been out with Remus in so long.”

“I’ve not been out with him for longer before. I’m sure. You’re obviously not up for it tomorrow so we’re not doing dates tomorrow.”

James lets out a relieved breath. “Thanks,” he says. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius says and starts poking each of James’ freckles on his nose. And that’s it. James doesn’t have to say no because it’s Sirius.

Life is also a lot better with Sirius around. 

James knows he should go on another fake date with Regulus, because Sirius misses Remus. He knows he should talk to Regulus, too. He knows all that but he just can’t get himself to do it.

He doesn’t want to think about Regulus, because thinking about Regulus brings him dangerously close to realisations he doesn’t want to have. As long as he avoids thinking about Regulus he avoids having realisations and therefore feelings are not real. Regulus is only Sirius’ little brother and James’ friend (which already took long enough to get there) and he’s pretty and smart and the entire world thinks they’re dating. But they’re not and therefore James doesn’t think about him.

The second day after he’s back James goes flying. He hasn’t been since the program ended; Matz living in a city doesn’t really allow for any Quidditch related activities. He busies himself with flying and when he comes back home helps his mother out in the garden and in the evening even attempts to cook with his father and he doesn’t think about Regulus or his soft hair or his summer rain eyes or his red warm lips against James’. He absolutely doesn’t.

The next day James suggests to Sirius they go out with Remus and Peter, just the four Marauders, because they haven’t hung out in forever either. Sirius luckily agrees and after a quick floo call with the other two Marauders the four of them meet up at the seaside for some very light hiking that still agrees with Remus, some climbing of a castle ruin near the beach and a lot of ice cream. Spending time at the beach still doesn’t make him think of Regulus or all of their picnics together. He doesn’t think about Regulus reading French poetry to him or sharply arguing James on Quidditch tactics or how softly he talks about his friends. He absolutely does not.

On the fourth day James knows he can’t avoid it for much longer. He saw the way Remus and Sirius kept sending each other longing glances the previous day and the painful look in Sirius’ eyes the few times he had tried to reach out to Remus, only to find his hand suddenly and violently intercepted.

And still, he doesn’t know how to talk to Regulus. How to bring up excuses when he doesn’t have any. How to handle the disdain he expects Regulus to meet him with after James made him witness all of... him.

So in the end, James settles on the only way he knows how to get around this.

“Hey Padfoot, you know about that wand tag game thing they have in Tinworth?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Why?”

“I thought we should go there,” James suggests. “You know, I’ll take Regulus, you can go with Remus, we’ll invite the girls and Reg’s friends along and have some fun games in the dark.”

“Ohhhh!” Sirius suddenly peaks up, a wide grin breaking out on his face. “Oh damn, yes, that sounds perfect!”

“I’ll check with the girls, you do Moony, Wormtail and Reg? Regulus can ask Barty and Evan if he wants.”

“Sounds like a plan! Damn, Prongs, I love your ideas. Keep them coming.”

“You just need to let me use that braincell of ours every now and then and I will,” James replies with a smirk.

“I’d say I’ll think about it,” Sirius snickers, “but unfortunately my best friend currently has the braincell to do all the thinking.”

To James’ relief it takes another day before they all have time to go out together.

It’s now been six days since that disastrous mirror call. Over a week since he last saw Regulus in person.

The closer the evening comes the more James wonders whether inviting all his friends along for their reunion was such a good idea. Had they just had a private first date they could have easily avoided each other. Now they are forced to pretend to be happily in a relationship. It does, hopefully, at least spare James the necessity to defend himself about drunk calling Regulus.

It doesn’t matter much now anymore, though, seeing as James is quite literally on his way to meet his friends. Bailing on them in the last minute would be far too rude and he especially couldn’t do that to Sirius and Remus when he knows how excited they are to get to snog each other again.

When he gets there everyone but Marlene (who’s never been on time to anything in her life, James is sure) is already waiting. James sends a general wave into the round and is met with an assortment of “Hi”s and “How have you been?”s, which he all replies to appropriately before turning his attention to the one person he’s avoided for nearly a week now.

Regulus is standing between Barty and Evan. When James sees him his stomach swoops before sinking all the lower a second later.

Regulus is absolutely breathtaking.

He is also absolutely not looking at James.

James doesn’t know what to do.

Luckily Marlene chooses that exact moment to join them all, pulling everyone’s attention to her, which saves James from making a decision just yet.

They decide to split into two groups. The Marauders, Lily and Mary against all the Slytherins plus Marlene. Marlene tries to recruit Mary to her group as well, because she thinks it’s incredibly unfair that her group is smaller than the other, but Lily absolutely refuses to be the only non-Marauder person in her group.

In the end Remus manages to assuage Marlene by explaining that, should they win, she gets to gloat that they won with one person less. And should they lose she can easily blame it on the same.

James and Sirius both absolutely hate that reasoning because it somehow means there’s no winning for the Marauders Plus group, no matter what they do.

After they’ve paid and had a quick check over of all their wands the woman managing the place explains the rules to them. It’s pretty simple, really. The house they play in is under a spell that doesn’t allow any magic besides a simple light spell with which each team has to try to hit the other one. Every successful hit is registered and added to the total points for the team and keeps the hit person from firing off spells for another thirty seconds. The team with the most points after their time is up wins. The catch is that the inside of the house is a maze and nearly completely dark, baring enough corners and nooks to hide in and ambush the opponents.

With a wide grin to his own team and a last worried (if somewhat longing) glance at Regulus, James follows his friends into the darkness.

James would say that after years of practice of pulling pranks and having to evade any patrolling teachers he is good at hiding and sneaking around and perceptive enough of footsteps in the dark. Somehow he still doesn’t see the green beam of light hitting him square in the chest coming. Neither does he expect the forearm pressing against his chest, pushing him back into the corner he is hiding in.

“Potter.” It’s no more than a whisper but the tone is sharp enough to make James stand up straighter.

“Crouch,” James whispers back. Barty is close enough that James can see the angry expression on his face, even in the dim light. “What’s up?”

“You tell me. What games do you think you’re playing here?”

“Uh.” James looks around through the dark. “Tag?”

Barty huffs and presses closer against James. In the back of his mind James thinks that this would be a great opportunity to have some very intense make out sessions. If it wasn’t Crouch that is. He wonders if Remus and Sirius are making use of the dark. He assumes they are, it’s been more than a week since they last got to kiss after all.

“Reggie told me to not say anything to you but someone has to and he’s not going to. You’ve been back for nearly a week. So. What exactly has kept you from talking to your boyfriend? And you better give me a good explanation here.”

James doesn’t have a good explanation. He also doesn’t have a boyfriend, not a real one anyway, so Barty’s anger is at least a little unjust, but he obviously doesn’t know that.

James shrugs helplessly. He doesn’t know how to lie and he hasn’t even thought about coming up with an explanation for their friend group yet.

He’s really not good at any of this, is he?

“I didn’t really have the time...” he tries lamely.

Barty scoffs. “Not the time? Not even to at least write a fucking letter? Try better, Potter.”

James lets out an undefined noise. Merlin, he’s so lost. He doesn’t know how to do any of this.

“I’m only not hexing you right here and now because Regulus, for whatever reason, begged me not to.”

A red beam of light hits Barty in his shoulder and he takes a surprised step back. “You’re also not hexing him right here and now because you literally can’t do any magic in here,” Lily says chipper. She grabs James’ hand and pulls him away into the maze. “You good?” she asks quietly once they’re lost between new walls.

James nods, then remembers she probably can’t see that, and answers, “Yeah. Fine. Thanks for the rescue.” It comes out a little dimmer than he planned.

“No problem. That’s what I’m here for.” She squeezes his hand before letting go of it. “Bet I can get more hits in than you by the end of it?”

“The bet’s on,” James agrees, thankful for the distraction. “Good luck, Evans.”

“Keep your luck, I’m using skill to win,” she retorts and jumps around the next obstacle, sending a red beam of light ahead which elicits a dignified yelp from Marlene. Lily follows with a cackle, presumably to tease her best friend, leaving James again alone in the dark.

In the next twenty minutes James manages to hit Marlene seven times, Evan four, and Dorcas and Barty each once. He himself gets doused in green light another eleven times, the last time only because Peter, the traitor, unceremoniously uses James as a shield.

Never once does James come across Regulus.

He’s starting to think he left the hall, taking a break from the game presumably to avoid James, when James ducks underneath an obstacle, rounds a corner and finds himself in a dead end. A very occupied dead end.

He doesn’t need to see him to know it’s Regulus. He’s spent enough time with him by now to recognise him by ... James isn’t really sure. The feeling in the air, maybe the sound of his breathing, maybe the faint smell of salty wind lingering around him.

Regulus freezes, only for a second, before sending a bolt of green light at James, then wordlessly pushes past him the way James had come.

James reaches out on pure instinct, holding onto Regulus’ wrist, slowing him down in his escape. “Reg, wait...”

He does. Waits. Waits for James to say something. To do something.

James wants to kick himself in the butt. He’s tried to avoid this very encounter all week; Regulus gave him the perfect out, just ignoring him, and yet here James is putting himself in the situation he doesn’t know how to handle.

“I’m sorry,” he says. It’s the only thing he’s sure of. The only thing he needs Regulus to understand.

“What for?”

“I–” What exactly is he sorry for? Drunk calling him? Getting off to Regulus, to his voice, to the memory of kissing him? Not reaching out to him afterwards? Getting feelings he never expected to get?

He stays silent for too long, he knows that, at the latest when Regulus scoffs and frees himself of James’ grip.

“Reg, please,” James tries again quietly.

“What do you want, James?” Regulus snaps. “You call me, say some sweet words to me, get off on it, and then ignore me for a week without any explanation. Did you find some better toy to play with in the meantime?”

“What?” James asks startled, “No, I– What?”

“Use your fucking words, Potter. You’re making yourself sound even stupider than you are.”

“I was embarrassed, okay?” James rushes. “I didn’t– I mean... I was fucking drunk and called you in the middle of the night and– fuck, I didn’t know what to do! I don’t know what I’m doing!”

Regulus stays quiet at that. At least he’s no longer trying to leave. He’s just standing there and looking at the little the dim light lets him see of James.

“I’m sorry,” James sighs. “For not talking to you. I tried to figure out how to explain things but I just haven’t gotten there yet. And sorry for making it awkward and for putting all that on you I mean, fucking hell, that’s just, like, overstepping so many boundaries and I’m sorry. Fuck, I was just really, really drunk and yes you kiss really bloody good and I keep thinking way too much about doing that again, did that especially much that night which is probably why all of that happened and I know that’s not a good excuse but, Merlin, I am just so so–”

James suddenly gets cut off when Regulus steps forward, steps unbearably close, and takes hold of James’ shirt collar to pull him down and crash their lips together.

James drops his wand in surprise, his hands flying up to wrap around Regulus’ waist and pull him closer.

For a couple seconds – maybe it’s minutes, James doesn’t know – all thoughts leave his head. All there is is Regulus’ hands in his hair, pulling him towards him, Regulus’ lips hot on his own, Regulus’ body closely pressed against his.

An embarrassing noise leaves his throat as his heart skips a beat. He wants to be closer, needs to be closer. What he settles for is pushing one hand into Regulus’ soft curls, tangling them tightly around his fingers. The other one finds its way underneath his shirt, travelling up his side. When James tightens his grip on him, digging his fingers into the soft skin over his ribs, Regulus moans quietly into the kiss.

The noise shoots right through James, through his heart and further down to where his trousers are slowly growing too tight.

Suddenly all the thoughts Regulus’ lips on his had banished from his mind come rushing in again.

“I cuddle and kiss all my friends.”

“Yes, well, Regulus doesn’t. So maybe give him some space there, will you?”

James pulls back with effort, every cell in his body protesting the distance between them. “Fuck, Reg, I don’t think–”

“Good, don’t,” Regulus interrupts him, his voice low, “You’re not good at it anyway.”

And maybe James really does have a problem, really does enjoy being insulted a little too much, because at the words his breath hitches and he leans back in, claiming Regulus’ lips for himself once more.

It’s all open mouthed kisses, teeth grazing across lips and biting on everything they reach and soon enough James has Regulus pressed against the wall of the maze, grinding against him as Regulus whines into his mouth. James thinks he might be going crazy. This is too much, too much and not enough because he needs more, needs all of Regulus, needs to give all of himself to him.

Regulus slips a hand underneath James’ shirt, running it up his back. When the cold, heavy rings on his fingers come in contact with James’ hot skin his hips jerk forward and a groan bubbles up in his throat. His fucking rings. James is sure he’s going to dream about them later. Maybe for the rest of his life.

He breaks the kiss, ignoring Regulus’ whine, and dips his head lower to kiss along his jaw instead. The noises of protest quickly morph into pleased, breathy sounds, and then a moan when James presses his lips against the soft spot below his ear and sucks the skin there between his teeth. Regulus tips his head back, giving James more access which he gladly takes. He wants all of Regulus, wants to consume him, wants to bite, and so he does, sinking his teeth into soft flesh, biting and kissing and sucking down Regulus’ neck to his collarbone, until Regulus’ fingers pull sharply on his hair and dig deep into the skin across his shoulder blades and James has to muffle his own moans into the side of Regulus’ neck.

Red light suddenly floods the space around them, blinding James and startling him into pulling back sharply. 

“Jesus fuck, James!” Lily calls out startled when she spots them. Then, when she’s collected herself again, she continues with a huff, “Stop shagging the enemy. We have a game to win. There’s still time for that later.”

A second red beam of light flies from Lily’s wand, this one actually hitting its target, momentarily illuminating an angry frown on Regulus’ face. It pulls James out of his own trance and quickly he brings another step between himself and the other boy.

“Fuck. Yes. Sorry,” he says and bends down to search for his wand, finding it rolled off in a corner. “Sorry,” he says again when he comes back up, this time to Regulus, although if he’s apologising for having kissed him or for having stopped kissing him he’s not entirely sure.

“Stop apologising and come with me, I figured out where Dorcas and Barty are hiding, I need help ambushing them.” Lily takes hold of his hand and for the second time that day pulls him out of a situation where he was standing pressed against a wall with a Slytherin.

This time James is a lot less happy about his rescue mission.

Barty and Dorcas are in the middle of the maze in an elevated house-type obstacle. Lily explains her plan to James in whispered hushes, but he barely takes anything in. His lips are still tingling with the feeling of Regulus’ skin beneath them, his fingers itch with the desire to curl them into Regulus’ hair. He can’t concentrate on anything but the memory of Regulus pushing his hips against James’ and letting himself be backed up against a wall.

What the fuck were they doing?

This was supposed to be fake. They were fake dating.

Why would Regulus kiss him now? In some secluded corner in the dark where they absolutely do not have to put up a show for anyone?

It’s not like James has never kissed anyone of his friends before for the sole purpose of wanting to kiss someone. But, well, Regulus doesn’t.

“Shoot now!” Lily’s voice startles him out of his thoughts as she jumps forward, taking the left side.

James has no idea what exactly he’s supposed to do, so he just kind of waits until the dark shadows of Barty and Dorcas appear and he can send two quick spells at them. Lily’s celebratory whoops cut through the darkness, followed by Barty yelling, “Just you wait, Evans, I’ll get you yet!”

Barty never gets the chance, though, seeing as right after his war declaration the countdown for their game blares through the halls, indicating that it is time for them to leave the hall.

James is pretty sure he lost his bet against Lily. There’s no way between Lily enthusiastically hunting down their opposing team and James getting lost halfway through the game snogging Regulus he managed to tag more people than she did.

His suspicions are confirmed when he steps out of the darkened hall back into the reception area, blinking against the light, and is handed a sheet of paper with the scores.

“Damn, Lils, you really pulled our team,” James whistles.

Lily steps closer to peak over his shoulder. “What the fuck were Remus and Sirius doing?” she asks exasperated, pointing at their meagre points.

Evan, followed by Peter and Barty, joins them then, quickly scanning the scores. “Obviously not playing the game,” he observes. “Hey, McKinnon! We won!” he calls out at Marlene who is just stepping out of the hall, still squinting at the light change. At the words her face lights up however. “We did?” she asks. “I mean of course we did! I never doubted it a single second!”

She grabs the sheet of paper from James’ hands who lets go of it willingly. “Holy shit Lily, how did you manage to get that many hits in and still lost?”

“I had shit teammates,” Lily complains. She whips around when Sirius and Remus join their group. “Hello you two, I was just talking about you! What the hell were you doing in there?”

“Presumably the same thing Regulus did,” Evan snickers, looking past them to where Dorcas, Mary and Regulus are the last of their group to leave the maze.

James follows his line of sight. As soon as he takes in Regulus’ appearance he chokes on his own spit and starts coughing violently. That, in turn, manages to first pull all the attention towards James and then to the reason for his current cause of dying.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Sirius asks scandalised.

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” Evan is still laughing. “I’d say Potter happened to him.”

James can feel Sirius’ sharp eyes on him but he doesn’t manage to return his look. He’s still trying to regain his normal breathing. Still very much fixed on Regulus’ tousled hair. His untucked shirt. The assortment of bruises along his neck, a furious red against his white skin.

Regulus glares around the room, not meeting anyone’s eye, a petulant pout on his red bitten lips. “Can you all stop staring, I’m sure there’s more interesting things to look at,” he snaps.

“Reggie, if you saw yourself you’d also be staring,” Barty grins.

“Prongs,” Sirius says sharply, “a word.”

“Ohh, Jamsie’s in trouble,” Marlene sing-songs as Sirius takes hold of his wrist and pulls him outside. James follows him, half stumbling, as he keeps throwing looks at Regulus over his shoulder.

“What the fuck, James?” Sirius demands the seconds they’re outside, around the corner out of sight from the entrance. “What the fuck?”

“Uhh...” Somehow James keeps having no idea what to say today.

“So it was you? You did that?” Sirius wildly gestures in the rough direction of where Regulus is standing with a neck covered in love bites.

“Uhm. I guess...” The likelihood of Regulus having snogged someone else as well in that maze is rather low. The fact that he snogged James in there is already unbelievable enough.

“Why?”

“What?”

“What the fuck do you think, Prongs! Why does my brother look like you shagged the ever-loving fuck out of him?”

“I didn’t,” James hurries to say. “I didn’t, you know, shag him.”

“Yeah I better hope not.”

“It was just some kissing...” James tries meekly.

Sirius scoffs. “Looked like a lot more than just some kissing.”

James can feel his face heat up. It certainly also felt more than just some kissing, but he’s sure not going to tell Sirius about that. Not like he has to, anyway, with what Regulus looks like at the moment.

“So explain to me why you were just kissing my brother when you’re not actually dating him?”

“He kissed me first,” James defends himself. “I stumbled across him, we talked about–” he quickly changes the direction his words were going. “I mentioned I liked the way he kisses and then he kissed me again...”

“He initiated?” Sirius asks startled.

“Yes,” James says petulantly, crossing his arms.

“Why?”

“How am I supposed to know? Ask Regulus. Maybe he also likes kissing people sometimes. Maybe I’m just that great of a kisser.”

Sirius snorts. “Don’t flatter yourself, Prongs. You’re mediocre at best.”

“That’s not what you said last time we kissed,” James huffs.

“Yeah, well, maybe I lied.”

“Don’t pretend, you prick, you suck at lying to me.”

There’s a beat of silence in which Sirius tries very hard to hide a grin, but James can still read it off his face. Then, “So you didn’t, like, take advantage of him because you fancied yourself a good snog?”

James snorts. “If anything he took advantage of me.” The moment the words are out James bites his tongue. He doesn’t really want to let Sirius know he’s developing somewhat of a crush on his little brother just yet.

Sirius gives James an odd look, but to his credit he at least doesn’t say anything else that might incriminate James further. “Well,” he sighs, “at least now there’s no way my parents are going to doubt Regulus is dating you. Fuck, my mother is going to be so furious...”

James feels like someone dipped his intestines in freezing water. He hadn’t thought of that. To be fair, he hadn’t thought of anything at all when he was kissing Regulus, besides maybe kissing him some more. But still– “Is he going to be okay? Like, your mother is not going to murder him over some love bites, is she?”

“She hasn’t murdered me so far,” Sirius shrugs, but the muscles in his jaw are tight. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

When they walk back around the house to join the rest of their group Barty groans and Marlene cheers. “Pay up, Crouch,” she demands and holds out her outstretched hand, into which Barty places two Galleons.

“What’s that about?” James asks curiously.

“They bet on whether you’d come back with a shiner,” Peter explains with a grin.

“Man, Black, I was counting on you,” Barty complains. “He doesn’t even look a tiny bit beat up.”

“I’m too pretty for Sirius to ruin my face,” James shrugs.

Barty turns to Regulus, whose arms are still crossed in front of his chest, his shirt now tucked in properly again, his hair somewhat smoothed down. “Why are you dating him again? I mean he’s not wrong, your pretty boy sure is pretty but Merlin is he arrogant.”

“He annoyed me and it was the only way to make him shut up,” Regulus says bluntly. “And I like his hair.”

James runs a hand through his hair and grins widely.

“Stop stroking his ego, it’s already far too big,” Sirius complains.

“Says you,” Remus snorts.

Sirius pouts. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Moony. You should be stroking my ego.”

“Hypocrite,” Mary whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, at the same time as Remus says, “I’ll stroke other things for you.”

“Anyway!” Barty calls, “Since we’re all already here I thought I’d send out my birthday invitation like this. I’m having a party next Wednesday at mine. You should all come and give me all the compliments and cool presents.”

Before everyone disperses into the world and goes on their own way after joyfully having agreed to attending Barty’s birthday party the coming week, James gently pulls Regulus aside. “I’m sorry about all the love bites. And, you know, the way my apology derailed so badly,” he apologises. “I didn’t really plan on doing any of that.”

“It’s fine,” Regulus say but a faint blush creeps onto his cheeks, “I don’t mind.”

James hums, not fully willing to accept the easy dismissal of his apology, but also not wanting to drag it out any further. Regulus doesn’t look particularly happy about being reminded of the state his neck is currently in. “Are you free tomorrow evening?” James asks instead. “I’d like to see you again. Try to make it up to you.” Mostly he wants to make sure Regulus is okay after coming home looking like – how did Sirius put it? – like James shagged the ever-loving fuck out of him.

Regulus nods. “I’d like that.”

“Do you just want to come to mine or should I pick you up again?”

Regulus makes a face and absentmindedly runs his fingers across the side of his neck. James follows the movement with his eyes. The bruises have already started to darken, turning a rather violent purple. “I think I’ll just come to yours,” Regulus decides. “Seven?”

“Seven sounds good.”

Seven comes and goes.

James spent the entire day being both insanely excited and incredibly nervous about Regulus coming over. He still doesn’t properly think about all the things he doesn’t want to think about, although he is slowly coming to terms with the fact he might be very slowly developing something like a crush. The thought is floating around somewhere in the back of his mind. He doesn’t let it come to the front just yet.

For half the day he fantasises about Regulus stepping out of the fireplace in James’ living room and falling into James’ arms to kiss him again. It’s a stupid thought, James knows that. He shouldn’t get used to whatever that was that happened in the maze. He shouldn’t even think of getting used to Regulus wanting to give him any kind of affection.

And still he anxiously awaits his arrival, happy with any and all attention Regulus gives him.

Only, it isn’t any affection at all. It’s not even an arrival, because Regulus doesn’t show up.

At twenty past seven James gets worried. It’s really not like Regulus to be late, especially not this late. Even if he changed his mind, even if he really is angry at James for everything that happened, James doesn’t think he would just not tell him that he wouldn’t show up.

At least he hopes as much.

As the minutes grow on he does start to wonder if maybe he fucked up far too badly and this is Regulus' very twisted (but incredibly effective) way of making James suffer in return.

He waits another ten minutes before he tries to call Sirius. Emphasis on tries, because Sirius doesn’t answer either. Not the first time James calls, and not the second or third time either. It only has him worrying more.

Finally, at quarter to eight, after James has nearly taken apart his Snitch with all his nervous playing around with it, he gets information about what is going on. It’s an owl landing on his windowsill that makes him instantly jump up.

He rushes over and frees the owl of its letter. It patiently waits where it sits, obviously waiting for James to send it back with a reply.

With shaking fingers James unrolls the thick parchment.

Regulus' handwriting is as perfect as ever, elegantly curling across the page.

James,

I’m really sorry, but it looks like I can’t come over tonight. There’s been some issues with our parents, Sirius has escalated the situation (it’s all part of a plan, according to him), and it’s best if I don’t try to leave tonight. We’re both fine, so you don’t have to worry.

My parents will both be out tomorrow night. Would you like to go stargazing with me? It’s supposed to be a clear night and I still need to show you the Perseids.

R.A.B.

Despite Regulus’ words James is very much still worrying. In fact, maybe his worries have increased a little, even if now less about his own situation with Regulus and a whole lot more about Regulus and Sirius’ situation with their parents.

He fucking hates Walburga and Orion Black. Whatever those two are doing to their children, James wishes they would just stop. The only good thing those people have ever done was bringing Sirius and Regulus into this world but that was also very much where their contribution to the world stopped. Everything else was certainly not thanks to them. How the Black brothers managed to grow up to be such wonderful people James has no idea. The sheer goodness those two must have to defy their upbringing...

James doesn’t know what’s going on at Grimmauld Place – although he has a terrible inkling that he himself isn’t totally uninvolved in the matter. If it was his thoughtless... uh... attacking of Regulus’ neck that caused this situation... well, he would quite like to kick his past self in the butt even more than he usually does.

Kicking his own butt doesn’t help much right now, though, so instead he scrambles for a new piece of parchment (in the end all he finds are his Quidditch notes and without much thinking he rips off a part of the least scribbled on page he can find) and a quill and drafts his reply.

Hi Reg

dont worry about me! Just make sure yore safe an

If you or Sirius can pls use the mirror to call me I wanna know ur ok

Stargasing tomorrow sounds good Id like that unless you have complaints ill come to yours at 8

lots of love I hope ure alright

James

At least, James thinks as he watches the owl disappear between orange tinted evening clouds, at least everything seems to be okay again between him and Regulus. A small reprieve, really, but one thing less James has to worry about.

Neither Regulus nor Sirius call him or answer the mirror when James tries to call again. He just hopes that their parents didn’t break it, it would be a great loss. (Although, he contemplates, rather the mirror than the brothers...)

Regulus also doesn’t write back, so in the end James has to wait until the next day to floo over to London.

He wishes he had suggested an earlier time, because having to wait the entire day before getting to see Regulus and Sirius again is awful.

When the evening finally comes around James still ends up making his way over to Islington about twenty minutes earlier than he probably should. He just hopes that Walburga and Orion aren’t home anymore when he knocks on the tall door to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

It takes barely ten seconds for Sirius to open. “Go away, Kreacher, I got this, no, it’s fine it’s– oof, hi James!”

James practically jumps on him, pulling his best friend into a tight hug. “You had me worried, mate,” he muffles into his shoulder. “What happened to your mirror?”

“Oh, you’re gonna hate me for this,” Sirius laughs awkwardly. “I had it in the pocket of the jacket I wore to the tag game but I switched jackets with Remus afterwards and forgot to take it out again.”

James gives Sirius a light slap across the back of his head while still clinging onto him. “I thought you fucking died or something. Idiot.” He pulls back to properly look at him. “You’re okay though?”

“I’m okay,” Sirius promises.

James is just about to ask what happened when Regulus comes walking down the stairwell.

He looks incredibly exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes are even more prominent than usual and his normally perfectly straight posture is now broken by his ever so slightly slumping shoulders. The bruises on his neck are still there, although they’re a lot more faded now. James assumes someone tried to speed up the healing process with some magic.

When Regulus sees him a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. It instantly pushes some of the exhaustion off his face.

James can’t help the wide smile from spreading over his face as he watches him. “Hi,” he calls softly.

“Hey,” Regulus says. “Are you ready to go?”

James nods the same moment Sirius asks, “Go?”

“You know, stargazing,” James says.

Sirius looks wide eyed between his best friend and his brother. “I didn’t know you were doing that today?”

“Mother and father won’t be back until the day after tomorrow, you really expect me to stay home tonight?”

James frowns. “You didn’t ask Moony to go stargazing as well?”

“No?” Sirius asks panicked, “What the fuck, Reggie! Give me some warning next time!” He hurriedly lets go off James. “Uhh, I gotta go, Imma try to get a hold of Moony right now.”

James quickly pulls him back to press a kiss to his cheek. “Have fun!” he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow?”

“Barty’s birthday,” Regulus helpfully supplies.

“Ah. Yes. See you tomorrow Prongs. Have fun!” He’s already halfway up the stairs when he turns back to James. “Not too much fun,” he adds, warningly squinting his eyes.

“Got it, Padfoot,” James grins. “Now go have some good times with your boyfriend. Oh, and please get the mirror back? I want to be able to talk to you when necessary.”

James doesn’t ask where exactly they’re going.

It’s a little hill Regulus brings him to, not more than a small beaten path leading up to it. The view from the top is beautiful – mostly fields and forests in the distance, with a tiny town in between and the sea right behind it. Nothing anywhere in sight that could compete with the starlight.

Or rather, James corrects his thoughts as he glances at Regulus on the picnic blanket next to him, nothing that could obstruct the light of the stars on its way down to earth.

The sun is only just setting, casting everything in a gorgeous golden light. Regulus looks beautiful. Peaceful. He’s reading a book as he’s waiting for the sun to set, a few dark curls falling into his eyes.

“The sun really does suit you,” James mumbles.

Regulus looks up at him, marking the line where he stopped reading with his finger. “Hm?”

“The sun,” James repeats, “It looks good on you.”

Regulus smiles. “I know,” he says simply. “You look like you have a halo.”

“A halo?”

Regulus nods and reaches over to gently tug on one of the strands wildly poking out form James’ head. “You’re all golden.”

“It’s the Gryffindor effect,” James grins.

“It’s not,” Regulus disagrees. Of course he disagrees. “It’s all you.”

And to that James really just doesn’t know what to say.

“So, tell me what you know.”

It’s completely dark – or rather, it’s dark but the stars and rising moon offer enough light for James to still see Regulus’ face when he looks over at him. They’re both lying on the blanket on their back, inches apart. It makes James extremely aware of his fast-beating heart.

“Like, in general?” he asks.

Regulus turns his head to give him an unimpressed glare. “Of course, James, just tell me every single thing you know. Can’t take very long after all.” Merlin, James loves Regulus’ glare. He’d gladly let himself be cut open by those sharp eyes. “No, idiot,” Regulus continues and he might as well have called him love by the way it makes James grin. “Tell me what you know about the night sky.”

“Oh. Right.” James looks away from the star next to him and up towards the less bright shining ones in the vastness hanging above him. He studies the speckless for a while before lifting his hand and pointing at the thin, silver sickle. “That’s the moon,” he says.

Regulus covers his face with his hands and mutters. ”Tue-moi s’il te plaît...”

James bites his lip as he looks over at Regulus. Fuck, he really loves Regulus speaking French.

But even so, just so he can assuage Regulus a tiny bit with his astronomy knowledge, he adds, “New moon was four days ago, the next full moon will be Friday next week.”

Regulus huffs, barely seeming impressed by James’ moon fun facts. “What else?”

“The Plough,” James says and points at the constellation, then draws his finger upwards. “And that there should be the North Star.”

“It is.”

“Ah, perfect.” James is a little relieved. Like, he was certain that he was pointing at the North Star but there was still that tiny bit of doubt, just because it is Regulus who is judging him and he wants to not seem entirely stupid. James hums then lets his eyes travel across the sky again, until settling on the brightest object he can find, right next to the moon. “I think that there might be Sirius?”

James can feel Regulus staring at him. Through the silence that follows Regulus’ utter consternation is clearly audible.

Well, so much for not seeming stupid.

“You didn’t just actually say that,” Regulus presses out eventually.

“I’m getting the feeling I might be wrong.”

There’s a string of French curses and when James looks over he’s getting the feeling Regulus might start crying any second now.

“I can’t have been that wrong,” James pouts. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic,” Regulus huffs. “Sirius,” he repeats. “James, Sirius is a winter star. We are in the middle of summer. You are not going to see Sirius until October.”

“Oh. Oops...”

“Oops,” Regulus is hiding his face behind his hands again. “How did you manage to pass Astronomy at all?”

“Peter was very patient with me,” James contemplates. “And I’m pretty sure Remus kept him from battering me to death with his textbook about eight times.”

“Thank Merlin for Remus. Although, I would have been in full support of Peter’s actions. I might have helped out had I known.”

“You would murder me because I mixed up Sirius with some other star?” James pouts.

“It’s not even a star, James,” Regulus groans. “It’s Venus. You know, a planet!”

“Ah. Well. I’ll remember for the future.”

“Please do not, because knowing you you’ll probably try to spot it through its relation to the moon and that’ll be completely different by tomorrow.”

James won’t tell Regulus that he was right with his assumption. Regulus might actually start crying if he did that and James doesn’t want to be the reason for Regulus’ tears. Not ever, and certainly not because James is a little stupid when it comes to stars. Planets. Whatever.

He reaches over and gently peels Regulus' hands away from his face. He so badly wants to keep hold of his hand, link their fingers. He doesn’t. Puts his own hands folded on his chest instead. “Any stars I should be aware of?” he asks instead. “Or planets, I guess...”

“No more planets,” Regulus says. He points towards the sky. “The brighter one, a little above Venus, that’s Arcturus, my second name star.”

“Where’s your first name star?”

“Oh, you can’t see that at the moment. It’s currently travelling really close along the sun. In a week they will nearly overlap. So at the moment we’re rising and setting together and I’m drowning a little in sunlight.” He laughs softly. James loves Regulus’ laugh. It’s still a rare sound, although it seems to come more easily the more time they spend together. He’s glad, he’d give anything to make Regulus laugh more often. The sound fills him with warmth and he turns his head to look at Regulus. He’s still studying the stars. James could watch him forever.

“There, half behind that tree over there is Andromeda. You can currently only see those four stars that make kind of a triangle shape.”

James tears his eyes away from Regulus to see where he is pointing. He can’t make out any triangle shapes. Or rather, he could make a million different triangles in the sky, he just doesn’t know which one is the one he should be seeing.

“And then up there you have Cygnus. That one you should manage to remember. It’s the swan. Do you see those six stars that make a really even cross?” James needs a second, but then confirms relieved. “There’s a couple more to the left and right that also belong to the constellation, but as long as you can point out the cross that’s good enough for me.”

“I’ll try my best to remember.”

“Thank you, I apprec– oh, look! A meteor!”

James nearly misses it, only seeing a glimpse of it from the corner of his eye. “Lily says you’re supposed to wish on them.”

“That seems silly.”

“I think it’s nice. Just think a little wish and let it fly into the eternity of the universe.”

“If you want it to fly off into the eternity of the universe tying your wish to a shooting star is rather stupid. They are about the closest thing to us you can see up there and only visible in their last moments of existence,” Regulus huffs.

James reaches over and knocks the backs of their hands together. “Just do it for me?” he asks softly. “Ignore the astronomy of it for tonight. Let’s just have wishes for the sake of wishing.”

Regulus hums, but doesn’t disagree.

After a while Regulus says, “Did you know that Muggles also do a lot of Astronomy?”

“Lily told us about it,” James says, “According to her they figured out how to get to the moon. Without magic.”

“They did,” Regulus agrees. “They can’t make the stars come close so they decided to go closer themselves.”

James just hums in agreement.

“You know how it’s said that they study space in the Department of Mysteries?” Another hum from James. “Pandora believes they built a replica of our entire galaxy. I’d love to see it someday.”

“You want to become an Unspeakable?” James asks curiously.

Regulus shakes his head. “Not really. I just want to look at it out of curiosity. Because it’s beautiful. See the stars and planets a little closer...”

“That would be groovy,” James contemplates. Regulus snorts at his choice of word. It isn’t really something James badly wants to do, but if he ever got the opportunity to look at the night sky objects a little more closely he probably wouldn’t say no.

“Muggles also got a way around that,” Regulus informs him after a beat. “They really figured out the entire astronomy matter better than we did. They have these houses, planetariums they call them, where they show a projection of astronomical discoveries. It’s all still three dimensional, I have no idea how they do it, but I badly want to find out. I’d love to see that someday as well.”

“That seems a lot more doable than the Department of Mysteries,” James says. “We could do that together at some point, if you wanted to.”

“I’d love to,” Regulus says and the smile is audible in his reply.

They stay quiet after that, both of them watching for shooting stars, looking up at the stars, although James can’t help but steal a glance at the star next to him every now and then. Every time he does so his heart beats a little faster. He loves Regulus lying next to him. Loves looking at him. Loves the effect it has on him, all softness and warmth and a comfort he doesn’t know how to describe.

After a while and a lot of debating with himself, wondering whether it would ruin the moment, the feeling of comfort, and eventually settling on needing to get an answer so he can stop wondering at least, James asks into the silence, “Are you alright? After yesterday?”

Regulus stays silent, long enough for James to wonder if he is going to reply at all. When he finally does answer he’s still looking at the sky. “I don’t think I’ll ever be enough for my mother.”

James doesn’t exactly know where this comes from or how he should react to it, so he patiently waits for Regulus to continue.

“Somehow I’m still trying. Sirius stopped forever ago. I know most of what he does he does because he wants to distance himself from our family and I know he says he doesn’t care about them, but he still does. At least a little. He just hides it well enough. He goes out of his way to disappoint her even more than he would if it was merely defiance because if he does it on purpose then at least mother has a reason to be disappointed in him and he doesn’t have to feel hurt if he tries his best and still isn’t enough.”

That does sound like Sirius. James has never heard it laid out this plainly, but it does line up with everything he knows about his best friend.

“I’m still trying, most of the time. You know, somehow I’m convinced if I just try this little bit harder then maybe she will be proud of me. Maybe she will love me.”

“You shouldn’t have to try to earn her love.”

“Yes, well, I’m trying anyway. It’s just that now, for the first time, I’m not willing to do whatever she wants... just to please her. Even if I knew for certain it would work this time. I’m not willing to do it. And it scares me and in a way it hurts, because I feel like I’m finally admitting that I am allowed to exist outside of being my parents’ son. That they are wrong and I can make up my own mind about everything regardless of what they’re saying.”

James isn’t entirely sure if he’s following completely. He watches Regulus carefully, watches the little frown appearing on his forehead and the way he wets his lips when he’s hesitating, searching for the correct way to formulate his next words.

“Despite the fact that my mother never seems satisfied with what I do, she somehow still finds ways to be even more disappointed in me. And, you know, sometimes I think maybe I could get used to it. That I could be alright with it, because that’s just who she is as a person. But then things like yesterday happen and I also get to witness my father’s disappointment and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” James says quietly. He knows he has a part in all of this. He wishes it was a positive part. He fears it might not be.

Regulus brushes their hands together again, just as James had done earlier. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he says quietly. “Anyway, I have Sirius. He knows I still care more than I should. I’m not as strong as he is, not when it comes to this.” He laughs softly. “He was a proper menace yesterday. Broke two of those ugly expensive vases my father keeps, cussed out all our ancestors’ paintings, gave way too many unnecessary details about his relationship, and more or less proposed to Remus without Remus actually being present. It didn’t help the situation but it helped me, because mother and father were angry enough at Sirius to ignore my existence for a while.”

Regulus stretches his fingers, ever so slightly brushing his rings against James’ knuckles, before he carefully threads their fingers together. For a moment James gets distracted by the cold metal, gets reminded again how much he loves Regulus’ rings, but he shakes it off quickly enough to focus on Regulus’ next words.

“Sometimes existing is terrible. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be a person. Wish I didn’t grow up with all these expectations on who I should be and no idea of who I actually am. Sometimes I wish I could just fade into nothingness so I could stop caring about everything for at least a second.”

James’ heart breaks for him. He understands the feeling. The expectations. Feeling too much all the time. Feeling a little lost as himself.

He gently squeezes Regulus’ hand, runs his thumb in circles across his skin. At the motion Regulus turns his head and looks at him. James is surprised when he finds him smiling.

“But then,” Regulus continues, “Then moments like these happen. And existing is a little less terrible. And maybe I’m actually glad I exist.”

He squeezes his hand in return and something explodes in James’ chest. And oh–

Oh –

Oh, he loves Regulus.

Not just the things he does, the things he says or the way he makes James feel.

No, he loves Regulus. All of him. Just him.

It is such a sudden realisation. A shooting star falling through earth’s atmosphere and burning up. Only it doesn’t stop burning, it catches fire, conflagrates, burns higher and higher and consumes James entirely.

At some point through pretending to love Regulus he had stopped pretending. At some point it had become as real to him as the ground underneath his body.

I love you, James thinks.

I love you, he wants to say.

“I’m also glad you exist,” he whispers instead.

Regulus smiles again, before turning his gaze back towards the night sky.

James can’t. Can’t look away. Not now that the thoughts have grown shapes in his mind. He keeps staring at Regulus. The gentle upturn of his lips. The strands of hair resting upon his brow, curling at the ends. The light freckles across his nose James knows he could see if the sun was still shining. The stars reflecting in his eyes, making them glitter, the beginning of summer rain when it still catches the last beams of sunlight.

He wants to tell him. Needs to tell him.

He doesn’t want to fake date Regulus anymore, he realises then. He wants to date Regulus. Be his real boyfriend. Take him out on real dates. Kiss him whenever he wants to, not when he has to perform for others, not when he has to question everything afterwards. He wants to let himself believe that Regulus wants to kiss him too, wants to spend time with James, because he likes it. He doesn’t want to have to talk to Sirius before going out with Regulus. He doesn’t want to have to justify himself to Sirius after having gone out with Regulus. He wants everything, all of this, just to be theirs. Not have it be for others, not have others involved, or have to answer to their wishes. Just his. His and Regulus’.

“Regulus?” he asks, his voice strained.

“Hm?” Regulus asks without turning to him.

But James can’t do it just yet. Not now. Not tonight.

He doesn’t have it in him to disturb his calmness. Especially not right after he trusted James with all the things that weighed on his heart. This was Regulus’ to keep. Regulus’ piece of quiet, Regulus’ moment of the universe. James doesn’t want to make it about himself and his own feelings. Not tonight.

“I need to tell you something,” James says, “but I don’t think now is the right time. Can I see you again tomorrow? Before Barty’s party?”

This time Regulus does turn his head before he answers. “Tomorrow?”

James nods.

“I’d like that,” Regulus says.

James smiles. “Then I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

When he finally looks away from Regulus and turns his face back towards the vastness of the universe stretching out above him, a shooting star falls right through the six-starred cross of Cygnus.

James doesn’t wish for anything.

Right now, he has everything he could think of wishing for.

Regulus next to him, his hand in James’.

The knowledge that he is in love, and that he will get to say it out loud soon enough.

And through all of it a feeling of conviction, close enough to certainty to make him smile, that at least some of his feelings are returned.

Chapter Text

7 - Even more I hate when you’re not here, and won’t answer my call 

James barely manages to sleep once he’s back home in his own bed, too giddy from excitement and the knowledge that he’s finally figured out his feelings. Now that he realised that he does, in fact, have a lot more than just a bit of a crush on Regulus he wonders why he was so scared to think about it before. What had all the panicking while he was at Matz’ even been about? So what if he was in love with Regulus and so what if it was Sirius’ little brother he had a crush on. Did any of that really matter? 

Like, yes, James still doesn’t really want to tell Sirius about that drunk call where he got off to Regulus literally just existing (and holy shit, that really should have been a clue for himself. Matz had managed to read him better than James had managed to himself and he hadn’t even had the entire picture) but if James properly started dating Regulus, Sirius surely wouldn’t mind. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. 

Well, James still mostly hopes he wouldn’t. Maybe he should still approach the subject carefully with Sirius. Just in case. 

But anyway, it is Regulus he has to talk to first. Because regardless of what Sirius thinks about the entire matter, and regardless how important Sirius’ opinion is to James, none of that really matters if Regulus isn’t involved. 

The more James thinks about it the more he manages to convince himself that Regulus also has a real crush on him. That he doesn’t just pretend to enjoy his time with James in an effort to help out his brother. If Regulus has a crush on James that would certainly explain things like that kiss during tag. If Regulus has a crush on James then that would mean that kiss in the dark maze had meant something. That that kiss was a kiss that was solely for the two of them. 

(Merlin, James wants to kiss him again so badly.) 

They had agreed to meet up at midday the next day so James can tell Regulus that he loves him (which Regulus, of course, isn’t aware of just yet), mainly because the two of them stayed out until half two in the morning counting shooting stars. James knew he would barely manage to sleep in, too used to waking up with the first beams of sunlight, but that didn’t keep him from hoping that maybe, if he at least has the opportunity to sleep in, he’ll manage to sleep for more than four hours. 

(In the end he got six hours, which is still more than James expected and so he can’t find it in him to complain about it at all.)

“You look awfully chipper today,” Fleamont greets James when he first walks into the kitchen. 

“It’s a sunny day,” James says with a shrug, “perfect reason to be chipper about the day.” 

Fleamont gives an approving nod. “Your mother is already out, buying new Starthistles for the garden, my potion supply is growing too thin. We already ate breakfast, you slept in quite long today.” 

James looks at the huge clock above the kitchen cabinet. “It’s not even nine yet, that’s not that badly slept in.” 

Fleamont laughs. “I can’t remember the last time you got up after seven thirty. For you it’s definitely late. When did you come back last night?” 

“Ah,” James hems and haws, “probably far too late…” 

“Did you have a good time with your boyfriend then?” 

James can feel himself blush at these words. Boyfriend. Oh, how much he wants it to be true. He really hopes he’s not wrong with his assumption that Regulus likes him too. He really doesn’t want to continue dating Regulus with the knowledge it’s all fake (and really, continuing now that he knows he wants more wouldn’t be fair on either of them. Mostly on Regulus, though, because James would just feel like he’d be taking advantage of him at every turn, getting kisses and sweet words out of him because Regulus has to pretend for some higher cause, while James desperately clings to every bit of love he can get, no matter how fake.) But while he doesn’t want to continue fake dating Regulus, he definitely also doesn’t want to stop dating Regulus. He just wants to do it properly. 

“James?” 

“Hm?” 

“I asked you a question. Did you have fun last night?” 

“Oh.” James didn’t even notice he had just drifted off into his own world and completely forgot to answer his father. “Yes. It was really nice, I saw twenty-three shooting stars and Regulus taught me some new constellations.” 

Fleamont reaches over to ruffle James’ hair. “Maybe you should have started going out with Regulus two years ago so your Astronomy marks wouldn’t have suffered so much.”

“I think had I dated Regulus two years ago he would have instantly broken up with me...”

That elicits a laugh from Fleamont. “Well, in that case I’m glad you waited until now and Regulus doesn’t feel the need to immediately break up with you. He’s a good lad, I like him a lot.”

“I also like him a lot,” James mumbles abashedly. Saying it out loud, even this understated version of what he is really feeling, feels huge. Monumental. His father probably doesn’t realise – in his eyes James and Regulus have been dating for well over a month, of course James would like his boyfriend. And yes, James obviously had liked Regulus before. He is a ... ‘good lad’. He’s always been rather snappy and sarcastic and incredibly mean but James had always liked that. He had just never liked him in any way as much as he does now.

“It’s nice to see you this happy,” Fleamont says earnestly and claps James on his shoulder. “I like seeing you finally have a requited crush.”

James’ laugh at that is tinted with a little awkwardness. He knows he moped a bit too much during his years long crush on Lily. It wasn’t the best experience he’s ever had, crushing on her. He’s starting to think that half of the time he told the world he was in love with Lily Evans he was really more doing it for the bit; He had been mooning after her for so long stopping seemed silly, even though the feelings had long disappeared.

And now... Well, James doesn’t exactly know he’s not in the same situation again. There is still the very real possibility that his feelings for Regulus are also unrequited. He wouldn’t be too surprised if he’s cursed with some kind of eternal unrequited crushing, even if this time his gut is telling him it’s different. That Regulus does like him back. That there has to be more to this than just pretended feelings.

None of that he can say to his father, of course. If everything goes right, Regulus will be his real boyfriend in a couple hours and no one will have to know anything changed between then and a month ago.

If everything goes wrong ... James doesn’t even think about it. Things usually go his way if he really needs them to, and this time he really, really needs them to.

“I’m going out in a couple hours to meet him,” James lets his father know. “I might not come home before the party tonight, I’m not sure yet.”

“Will you come home tonight after the party?”

“Not sure yet, we might all just crash at Barty’s, I’ll see what happens.”

“In that case I’ll just expect you in the morning,” Fleamont says and follows it up with a short lecture about the typical parental advice of don’t do anything stupid and if anything happens floo-call me.

James only half listens and fully forgets everything the second after the words leave his mouth but he’s certain enough his father hasn’t said anything he hasn’t heard a million times before so it surely will be fine. He would listen better, he really would, it’s just that currently his mind is kind of preoccupied with other things. Namely Regulus. More specifically what to do once he actually gets to Grimmauld Place to pick him up. Because despite having done nothing but think about Regulus since – well, actually since they started Operation James Encounters Regulus’ Kisses – he hasn’t really planned out how he wants to tell Regulus that they have to change the nature of their relationship.

But then again, James thinks, when have things he properly planned through in regard to Regulus ever worked out? So far his experience has shown that the best way to approach anything is to just say fuck it and wing it and just see what happens. And anyway, planning out a love confession seems rather disingenuous, in James’ opinion. It’s a love confession. There’s nothing plannable about love. It should come in the moment, from the heart, in whatever way it wants to exist in the world. Planning it out would make it put on a mask to look prettier or down-to-earth-ier than it might be. One of James’ best qualities, in his opinion at least, has always been his just-gonna-see-what-happens approach. So if he wants to win over Regulus then he should do it in a way that is truly him.

It’s with these thoughts that he leaves the house a couple hours later and with these thoughts that he, on a whim, stops in front of a flower shop two streets over from the Leaky Cauldron.

James scrutinises the flowers only for a few seconds before he decides that yep, he’ll have to get some for Regulus. He only wishes he had asked Regulus at some point what his favourite flowers are. Or at least his favourite colour. Green, probably, James assumes, but there’s not really any green flowers, are there? Can he pick out flowers depending on which ones have the prettiest leaves? That seems like a bit of a weird thing to do, right?

But then he spots a vase with small yellow buds that look like tiny suns or maybe fireflies with the most deep green leaves he’s ever seen and he doesn’t really care if it’s a weird thing to do anymore, just grabs a few of the stems. It doesn’t really look like a bouquet he can hand off to anyone, though, and really, yellow isn’t exactly Regulus’ colour so in the end James spends another couple minutes sauntering through the flower shop until he could decisively say which flowers are the darkest (catering to Mr I Do Not Like Colours turns out to be incredibly difficult when surrounded by all those pretty oranges and pinks and yellows), which James finds to be a couple deep red roses that, if you squint a little or maybe turn off the sun for a bit, look nearly black. Good enough for James, especially since those roses also have pretty green leaves. And when the shop keeper adds another few stems of even more very green greenery James is convinced no one could have done better than him right here.

When James arrives at the doorstep to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place he only hesitates to knock for a second. Regulus did say his parents aren’t home that day so there is no reason to be scared the wrong person would open the door.

And still, the wrong person opens the door.

“Hello Kreacher.” James forces himself to smile at the sour expression on the house-elf’s face. “I came for Regulus, could you tell him I’m here please?”

“No,” Kreacher says and closes the door again.

James gapes at the silver door knocker in front of his face. Had Kreacher really just refused his request? What?

It takes James decisively too long to get his wits about him once more and knock again. It takes Kreacher even longer to reopen the door.

“Hi,” James says hurriedly, “I think you might have misunderstood. Regulus is expecting me. If you could just call for him...”

“I cannot,” Kreacher says and is about to close the door in James’ face again, but he quickly reaches out to intercept it.

“Why not?” James asks, all of his careful friendliness from before disappearing as he gets more and more agitated.

“The young Master Black is not at home,” Kreacher drawls, the displeasure of having to answer at all plainly written on his face, and with a snap of his finger James is forced a step back and the door falls shut.

James stares at the door for several seconds before knocking a third time. The door stays mercilessly closed.

“What the actual fuck,” James mutters to himself. Was Kreacher lying to him? Was Regulus actually not home? But he agreed to see James today, they had agreed on a time. James had things to tell him. James had to ask him out properly. So why wouldn’t Regulus be home?

And why in the world was Kreacher so very rudely closing the door right in front of James’ face?

With the strike of an uncharacteristically useful thought James remembers the two-way mirror in his pocket. He pulls it out, looks around to make sure no one is watching him, and calls Sirius’ name.

And then calls it again.

And again.

Because Sirius does not answer at all.

“What the fuck,” James repeats, a lot more heartfelt. What is going on?

After an approximate ten minutes James tries knocking again and luckily the door opens this time, Kreacher grumpily looking up at James.

“The young Master Black isn’t here,” he says and is about to shut the door in James’ face a third time but James quickly intercepts it and says, “That’s fine, I’m looking for Sirius this time. Please tell him I’m here.”

Kreacher looks disgruntled about the fact that he has to help James out with this new request. He gives James a last seething glare before he disappears back into the house, only to be replaced with Sirius appearing at the top of the stairs a couple seconds later.

“James!” he calls, and practically runs the last steps down. “Is Reggie okay?”

“What?” James asks dumbfounded. He has absolutely no idea what’s going on.

“Did he call you?”

“Why would he call me?”

“I gave him my mirror so he could quickly reach someone if he needed help.”

James only looks at Sirius blankly.

“Okay, judging by the fact that you look the same way you always do in History I’m assuming he didn’t call you? What are you doing here?”

“I was meant to pick up Regulus?” James realises he is more asking then stating it as the fact it is. He is just absolutely lost about literally everything that is currently transpiring around him.

Sirius frowns at him, then his eyes drop down to James’ hand. “What’s with the flowers?” he asks.

“I– uh... I brought them for Regulus...”

Sirius barks out a surprised laugh. “What the fuck Prongs?” He gives them a closer look over. “Gryffindor colours? Really? Were you trying to get back at him for something?”

James looks down at the bouquet himself and only then realises for the first time that Sirius is right. Those sure are Gryffindor colours. “I picked them out because they had pretty green leaves,” James mumbles abashedly.

“You’re weird,” Sirius states. “Why exactly did you buy flowers for my brother anyway?”

“They looked pretty and I thought of him,” James explains truthfully.

“Why have you never bought me any flowers then?” Sirius pouts.

“Guess I just don’t think of you when I see pretty things.”

“Oh, you twat, sure tell me again how much more beautiful you think Regulus is.”

“He is,” James insists. “You’re usually hotter, though.”

“Usually,” Sirius repeats indignantly.

James doesn’t say anything because he isn’t sure telling Sirius that usually recently turned into all the fucking time is such a great idea.

“Yeah anyway, Reggie isn’t here...”

“I figured as much,” James says. “Can I come in and put the flowers in some water and you explain to me what exactly is going on here?”

“Be my guest,” Sirius says and pushes the door open wider to make space for James.

Sirius leads him through the entry hall down a narrow staircase into the kitchen. James has never been down here. Really, he hasn’t seen anything of the house besides the entry hall and the way up to the Black brothers’ rooms.

The kitchen has nothing of the comfort of any of the kitchens James has ever seen in his life. Really, the only similarity between this one and the one at his parents’ house is that both contain a stove and a sink and some cupboards. That’s already where the similarities end.

“So where’s Regulus?” James asks, leaning against the doorway and watching Sirius look for a vase.

“At Barty’s,” Sirius says nonchalantly, like it’s nothing at all, like it doesn’t send a sharp stab through James’ chest.

“Crouch?” The word comes out a little rougher than intended.

“Do you know another Barty?” Sirius throws him a look across the shoulder. “He contacted Regulus about an hour ago. His father suddenly decided that doing a birthday party tonight is a terrible idea and they got in a bit of a fight. You know how Barty is with his father...”

James has heard bits and pieces from Regulus over the weeks – Barty apparently has a similarly awful father as him and Sirius do, only Bartemius Crouch Senior is a lot more handsy than is usual in the Black family. That is at least when he’s not straight up ignoring his son.

“Apparently it’s more on the bad side this time so Regulus went over there for some support. I gave him my mirror, thought he might call you if he needs reinforcement.”

“He didn’t,” James says. “Also didn’t answer when I tried calling you earlier.”

“Guess he’s a bit too preoccupied with helping out his best friend at the moment,” Sirius hums and opens yet another cupboard in search of a vase.

“The party is still happening though?” James asks. “Like, Barty is going through with it anyway?”

“As far as I know, yeah. I guess Reggie is still going to stay with him until tonight though. Doubt he’d like to leave him alone now.”

James hums non-committedly. He gets it, he also wouldn’t want to leave Sirius alone after a family dispute. Or any of his friends, for the matter. Still, he’s rather desperate to see Regulus himself at the moment. “And what’s up with Kreacher?” James changes the subject. Barty isn’t exactly his favourite conversation topic. “I’ve never seen him this unhappy about seeing me and I don’t think he’s ever been happy about me at all.”

“I think my parents told him to send you away whenever possible. They’re not exactly happy about you and Reg dating and I’m sure they’ve made Kreacher have the same opinion.” Sirius finally gets successful in his vase hunt at the very top of one of the higher cupboards. “I can’t remember the last time we used this. Honestly, now that I think about it I’m not sure I’ve ever seen flowers in this house...”, he mutters, fills the overly pompous crystal vase with water and hands it to James. “You can stay here for however long you want by the way, my parents won’t be back until the middle of the night, and maybe Reg will come home after all.”

“That’d be nice,” James accepts the offer and vase with a grateful nod and places the flower delicately inside, before following Sirius up the stairs to the fourth floor. “Think I can put them down in Reg’s room for when he comes back or will I get decapitated if I enter his room without his express permission?” He can’t help but lightly make fun of Regulus for his choice of sign on his door.

“I think you’ll be good,” Sirius says. “Just put them down on his desk.”

James, for no reason whatsoever besides feeling weird about just going into Regulus’ room, still knocks on the door before stepping inside. He is determined to just put down the flowers and then immediately leave again. Snooping around in Regulus’ room without Regulus knowing feels extremely wrong.

He gets as far as two steps into the room before his determination wavers.

In between all the grey and green of the room, glaring him practically in the face, is a spec of deep red. It takes James no time to recognise his own shirt he had lent Regulus all those weeks ago. He had completely forgotten about its existence until he spots it now, hanging across the back of Regulus’ desk chair.

Somehow James hadn’t expected Regulus to keep it. Of course, he doesn’t think Regulus would just throw it out and he obviously knows that he hasn’t given it back to James, so really him keeping it is the only reasonable option left. And still, it surprises James. Positively, that is. He wonders if Regulus sometimes wears it or until now just forgot to give it back to James and that’s why it’s still lying around in his room. The letter seems a lot more likely, although James hopes the former is the case.

In retrospect James very much regrets not having appreciated Regulus wearing his shirt a little better. The thought of it actually somewhat flusters James now. But he quickly pulls himself together and resumes his mission of leaving flowers for Regulus by walking past the incriminating shirt on the desk chair.

James sets the vase down on the far end of the desk, as close to the only window in the room as he can manage, hoping for the little sunlight coming in through from the outside to keep them alive for longer. He is about to turn away when something else catches his eyes.

Gently, James picks up the photograph. It’s the one the top-hat stranger had taken of them on their first date. Fake date. The one where his lips are firmly pressed to Regulus’ cheek, a smile and a panicked look on Regulus’ face. It’s a nice photo. It would be even nicer if it wasn’t for the two clean cuts through it that someone mended by sticking tape to the backside. Cursed cuts, James thinks, otherwise a simple reparo would have done a better job of fixing it.

James sets the photo back down to where it was leaning against the small stack of books, a red one picturing a hot air balloon on the cover at the very top, and looks around in the hopes of getting to spot the other photos Regulus also kept. He only finds one from a more recent get together of theirs; James sitting on the floor pondering over his Quidditch notes, the tip of his quill stuck between his ink blue tinted lips. All the other ones from their first two failed attempts of swaying Walburga away from punishing Sirius are missing, as far as James can tell.

“Sirius,” James asks when he joins his best friend in his room, making himself comfortable on his bed, his thoughts still whiling behind the closed door across the corridor, “What exactly is your brother’s problem with dating?”

Sirius raises an eyebrow at James from where he is sitting on his chair, his legs thrown up on his desk. “Where does this come from?”

“I’m just wondering, you know, considering that I’ve been taking him out on– uh, fake dates for quite some while now...”

“I don’t fully know,” Sirius admits. “He’s never shown any interest in dates despite the abundance of people who’ve shown interest in him. For whatever fucking reason.”

(James gets all of those people. He could give Sirius a never-ending list of reasons, if he asked. He doesn’t.)

“So he’s never dated anyone?”

“I think he had a short thing with Barty a while back. Although I’m not really sure if that was dating or just convenience.”

The same moment James thinks about how he didn’t think Barty could have possibly sunk any lower on his likeable scale, James realises it’s because he’s jealous. That he’s been jealous for quite some time. That his dislike of Barty is solely based on the fact that he is close to Regulus, but close in a way that makes it obvious that those two were very intimate with one another at some point. Look like they still are, sometimes. If it wasn’t for his feelings for Regulus, James debates, he would probably get along with Barty quite nicely.

He tries not to let his jealousy show as he asks, “No one else?”

Sirius snorts, “You say that as if that’s anything out of the ordinary. You’ve literally never properly dated anyone, Mr So in love with the only person who doesn’t want to go out with me.”

James winces ever so slightly. He knows Sirius is talking about Lily, and Merlin yes he does have a point with that. All throughout those couple years of his very intense crush on her James didn’t date anyone else. He went on one or two dates, sure, but always stopped seeing those people very early on, not feeling like it was fair on anyone if he gave them hope while his heart was somewhere else. He knows Sirius is referring to all that, and yet he can’t help but fear that it just as much refers to his current situation. Still always picking the one person who doesn’t want to go out with him.

Then he thinks back to the photo in the room across the hall, pristinely put together with tape.

But what if...

“Do you think he just doesn’t like dating in general or had he just not, like, found the right person yet?”

“James,” Sirius says warningly.

“I’m just asking,” James mumbles. He knows he’s being a bit too open with his question. Letting it show through too obviously what answers he wants to get. Why he wants to get those answers. Especially considering it’s Sirius he’s talking to. Sirius, who’s always been best at reading his every thought –

“You’re asking because you want to know if my brother might fancy you.” It’s not even a question. It’s a plain statement, simple in its certainty.

James feels the heat rising in his cheeks. “It’s not...”

“Don’t even try to lie, Prongs, we both know you’re shit at it,” Sirius sighs.

“Yeah,” James mumbles. “I’m... yeah. You’re right.”

“’Course I am.”

James isn’t sure what to say. Of course, he never expected this to stay a secret from Sirius. There were no secrets between the two. He just couldn’t figure out how Sirius would react to it once he figured it out. He’s still not entirely sure. Sirius doesn’t seem angry, but he doesn’t seem happy about it either. He just states the things as facts, leaning back in his chair, his head falling over the backrest as he looks at James upside down.

“Maybe,” Sirius says.

“What?” James has no idea what this is referring to.

“Maybe he fancies you,” Sirius elaborates. “I can’t tell you. And even if I knew I wouldn’t tell you, it’s not for me to relay feelings between you two. If you want to know if he fancies you ask him yourself.”

“But you think there’s a possibility?” James asks anxiously.

Sirius sighs deeply and sits up straight swivelling around in his chair to look at James properly. “He’s been going out with you regularly for several weeks, James. He talked back to our parents when they tried to forbid him from going out with you. Sometimes when I talk about you now he smiles instead of scowls. He literally has a photo of the two of you in his room. Even I only have one single one with him there. He obviously likes you enough to keep spending time with you. Believe me, if he hated any aspect of it, you would know and surely not get to see him in your room this regularly. So yes, I think there is a possibility he also fancies you, James.”

“Also–” James chokes out, repeating that very crucial word in Sirius’ lecture.

Sirius snorts. “You trying to tell me you don’t fancy him?”

James lets himself fall backwards onto Sirius’ bed, covering his face with his arms. “I’m sorry,” his voice comes out muffled.

“What for?”

“You told me to stay away from feelings in regard to your brother. Right at the beginning, when you explained the plan to me.”

“James,” Sirius says, then the mattress dips underneath James as Sirius joins him on the bed. “James,” he repeats and frees James’ face from his arms, “I’ve watched the two of you pretend to fancy each other for the better part of the summer. It’s kind of forced me to get used to the concept of the two of you actually dating. You’re shit at hiding your feelings. I’ve seen the way you’re around him, I’ve had enough time to come to terms with the fact that you have terrible taste in men.”

James watches his best friend attentively, the wrinkles of worry not yet having fully evened out across his forehead.

“Besides, I said no feelings for Reggie ‘cause I didn’t want you to be as overwhelming for him as you sometimes were with Lily, which you’re not being. And I didn’t want you to get hurt again because he doesn’t like you back. And by the looks of it that might also very well not be relevant. And on top of that I’m just a bit terrified that if the two of you do eventually end up properly dating, what if you break up one day and then make me choose between my best friend and my brother? Because I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t know what to do then.”

“You’re thinking about us breaking up before we’re even dating?”

“The idea of losing either of you is my literal worst nightmare, excuse me that I also have existential worries.”

James reaches out to take Sirius’ hand in his own. “I don’t think that’s anything you’d have to worry about. I wouldn’t make you choose and I wouldn’t let you get out of my life that easily and if I have anything to say about it I’d also like to keep Regulus in my life, regardless of if we’re dating or not.”

Sirius regards him for a while, then nods. “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yeah. Sure. Do your thing, just do it properly.”

“So you’re fine with us dating?”

“My opinion matters very little in this regard, but yes, I’m fine with you dating. So are you going to ask him out properly?”

James pushes his glasses up to rub his eyes. Somehow he feels incredibly exhausted all of a sudden, tension he didn’t know he had falling off him now that Sirius knows. And more yet, now that he knows that Sirius doesn’t mind at all. “I wanted to ask him out today. I had a bit of an epiphany last night when we were looking at the stars and realised I kind of have more than a bit of a crush on him.”

Sirius barks out a laugh. “You realised that last night by looking at the stars? Bit of a cliché, Prongs, don’t you think?”

James playfully punches his arm. “Let me be a little stupid in peace, please. At least I figured it out at all.”

“You’re more than a little stupid. I can’t believe I figured this out before you did, you were so obvious...”

“Fuck you too, Padfoot,” James sniffs. “I also figured out you were in love with Remus before you did. So I guess we’re only even now.”

Sirius grins. “Fair enough. Guess this is exactly why Peter says we share one braincell.”

“Probably,” James snorts.

“So you’re going to ask him out tonight at the party?” Sirius asks, his playful tone suddenly changing to a more serious one.

James winces. “I’m not sure. I don’t really want to ask him with lots of people around. That would just seem... wrong. I don’t think he’d much appreciate that. If he even likes me at all, that is.” His contemplating gets an agreeing hum and nod from Sirius. “If he comes home before the party I’ll ask him then. Otherwise I’ll wait until after. I really want to get this right.”

Sirius reaches over to ruffle his hair lovingly. “It’ll be fine. But I agree, that does sound like the best way to go about this. Glad you’ve gotten over your very boisterous public exclamations of love, I think that would only get you stabbed.”

“Hmmm,” James contemplates, “That might honestly be worth it... I do like the idea of Reg with a knife, I’d let him stab me any day, he’s bloody hot when he’s pissed...”

“James!” Sirius gasps, grabs his pillow and repeatedly hits it over James’ head. “Shut up! Do what you want with my brother but don’t fucking tell me! Shut up!”

James only laughs in reply as he tries to fight off the pillow.

Regulus doesn’t show up before it’s time to leave for the party. He also doesn’t call, which James knows should be a good thing but he is disappointed nonetheless. He feels a little forgotten, because they had planned to meet up and Regulus hadn’t shown up without any word for James. Which James understands, he does, because right now he doesn’t matter at all, not when Barty might be in proper trouble. He’s still disappointed though. 

He tries calling Regulus from his own half of the mirror only once, secretly, when Sirius leaves for a minute to go to the bathroom. Regulus doesn’t answer that call either. James almost expected as much. It still doesn’t help with the feeling of disappointment growing larger behind his sternum. 

It is only a couple hours more and then he’ll see Regulus again, and then a couple hours after that and James will find a quiet and appropriate moment to ask Regulus out. Properly ask him out. On a real, actual date with real actual feelings, if everything goes well. And after the talk he had with Sirius James is fairly sure that everything will indeed go well. So everything is fine, and James should honestly get a grip of himself and stop putting his own feelings over the very serious situation that Regulus had to leave for. 

If it was up to James they would have left far too early. Somehow, over the past couple weeks, this has become a habit. James never used to show up early to anything, he barely manages to show up on time most of the time. It’s really all just Regulus, and James intense need to both uphold a proper enough image in front of him and also not waste any minute of his life by not seeing Regulus. 

But as it is, it’s not up to James, because he’s going to the party with Sirius. And Sirius, as much as James loves him he can’t not say it, absolutely sucks at being on time when he has a reason to make himself pretty. 

“Padfoot,” James whines, “Please, we’re already late!” 

“Shh, I need to concentrate,” Sirius waves him off, leaning close to the mirror and carefully applying eyeliner. 

James crosses his arms and pouts. “You’ve done your eyeliner often enough that you could do it in your sleep, you absolutely do not need to concentrate.” 

“Yeah, maybe, but I still don’t want to rush it.” He puts down the pencil and looks at James through the mirror. “You’re sure you don’t also want some? You’d look super hot.” 

“You’re telling me I’m not already hot?” 

Sirius raises his eyebrows and gives James a slow, critical look over. 

“Oh, sod off, I know I’m hot,” James huffs. 

“Could be hotter though,” Sirius grins and lifts up the eyeliner. 

“No, thanks,” James declines. “I don’t like the way I look in the mirror with makeup on. It makes me not recognise myself, it’s very off putting.” 

“If you say so...” Sirius shrugs and turns back to the assortment of brushes and tins in front of him. 

It takes another half an hour before Sirius is ready to leave. At this point they’re over an hour later than the official start of the party (which James knows doesn’t matter much, because no one ever shows up on time for parties. Showing up on time is showing up way too early, but he was supposed to see Regulus five hours ago so he’s grown rather impatient at this point.) and they still have to make a stop at Peter’s because he sent a message earlier that he was all out of Floo Powder and therefore had no way of getting to Barty. 

“Thank you so much for picking me up,” Peter sighs in relief when they finally step out of the fireplace in the Pettigrew’s living room. “I thought you might not show up anymore, I was so close to walking to James’ house if you hadn’t shown up in the next twenty minutes.” 

“Marlene lives right across the street, why didn’t you try her?” Sirius asks, dusting the none-existing ash from his cropped shirt. 

“I tried,” Peter explains, “I went there earlier but no one was home. I think Marls might have stayed over at Dorcas’ yesterday, but no idea where her parents went.” 

“Well, not to worry now, we’ve come to your rescue!” 

“Got everything? The present?” James asks. “Ready to leave?” 

Peter nods, holds up the prettily wrapped box and, from the tin Sirius holds out to him, grabs a handful of Floo Powder and disappears through the flames James and Sirius had stepped out of a minute earlier. 

With a sigh of relief, anticipation already building up high inside him, James quickly follows. 

When James steps out of the fireplace in Barty’s living room, no one is there. For a moment James thinks they got out of the wrong fireplace, before Peter points to a sign lying on the coffee table in front of them. 

“Where is everyone?” Sirius asks the second he appears behind James. 

“The party’s been moved to Evan’s, apparently,” Peter says, pointing to the sign again, where Evan’s address and the instruction to generously help oneself to the box of Floo Powder sitting next to the sign is written down. “What’s up with that?” 

“Barty had a fight with his dad,” Sirius summarises the story rather quickly (and also as best as he can, seeing as they still don’t know what exactly happened). 

Peter looks around the living room attentively. “Then let’s get out of here quickly, I’m not too keen on continuing that fight myself.” 

James doesn’t see the need to disagree with that, and so he helps himself to a handful of Floo Powder and, for the fourth time that day, step into the midst of green flames. 

The next time they leave a fireplace it’s immediately obvious they reached the correct destination. The party is already way past its starting point. Loud music blaring through the room, underlined with colourful lights everywhere and several people singing loudly and very off key, apparently well on their way to being intoxicated. 

There’s a couple people James doesn’t know, presumably some of Barty’s other friends that don’t belong to the inner circle of people that have already mingled with James’ own friend group. 

“Look who’s finally arrived!” someone shouts. James quickly spots Mary, raising her cup towards them, as several people cheer along her introduction to their entrance. James bows dramatically, pretending to salute with an imaginary top hat, before gesturing to Peter and Sirius on either side of him, who quickly take up their roles and under even more cheering and laughter drop into low bows as well. 

“So glad you made it!” Barty leaps over to them, his steps already slightly wobbly. By the looks of it he started drinking way before the party started. James can’t fault him, considering his entire afternoon seemed to have been a bit more of a disaster than he had anticipated, which also shows in the growing bruise on his jaw which James regards with worry. 

Barty, ignoring the look James is giving him, goes to hug each of them, pressing a kiss to their cheeks, although when he comes to Peter he somehow misses completely and full on presses their lips together. Peter looks rather flustered afterwards, which makes James laugh.

“Go get it, Pete!” Sirius crows. 

“Lucky Wormtail, gets welcome kisses,” James teases. 

“You also want welcome kisses?” Barty asks, a gleeful glint in his eyes. “Just ask, I’ll happily kiss you as well, pretty boy.” 

James laughs and pushes the present the Marauders had gotten for him into the space between them. “Maybe some other time, Crouch. Happy birthday!”

Barty accepts the gift with a thanks to each of them before he winks at James. “I’ll hold you to that,” he promises, then turns to Sirius. “Your boyfriend’s been anxiously waiting for you, I think Sibyll is currently keeping him busy in the kitchen.”

Sirius bounces off with a nod to the others and Barty takes hold of a still blushing Peter. “You’re coming with me,” he decides and pulls him into the crowd, leaving James behind all on his own.

James looks around, trying to spot Regulus. So far he hasn’t found any trace of dark curls or grey eyes yet, but he knows Regulus must be around somewhere so he decides to investigate. 

“Good evening, Evans,” James says lowly when he’s standing right behind Lily. “How wonderful to meet you here.” 

Lily slowly turns around to him, rolling her eyes. James laughs surprised. Maybe she did have a point when she told him he has a type... 

“Potter,” she says, easily slipping back into their usual interaction from two years ago. “What do you want?” 

“Just wanted to say hi,” James grins. “And also ask if you’ve seen Regulus.” 

“He’s in the sitting room dancing with Evan, I think Barty just went back to join them,” someone else answers in Lily’s stead and only then does James notice the tiny bespectacled girl Lily had been talking to. 

“Pandora!” James calls out in surprise. “I didn’t know you were back from your Sweden trip!” 

Pandora grins up at him. “I couldn’t have missed Barty’s birthday, could I? I’ve been back since yesterday, I hear I’ve missed a really cool tag game with all of you.” 

“You so have,” James agrees. He’s never interacted much with her before, even less than with Barty, for the sole fact that she doesn’t randomly show up for Quidditch practices, but he still likes her a lot. He doesn’t think anyone in this world exist that doesn’t like Pandora. “We should do it again some time, at least then Marls can’t complain about unequally sized teams.” 

“Only if next time Remus and Sirius and you and Regulus get put in different teams,” Lily says darkly, “I refuse to have to do the entire work again while you guys do nothing but snog during the game.” 

James can’t help but blush at the memory of snogging Regulus in the maze. That sure had been ... something. He wonders if the bruises on Regulus’ neck have disappeared completely already, vanished by the healing spells, or if James can still see the work his own mouth has left behind on Regulus’ skin. He hopes for the latter. 

“How was Sweden?” James changes the subject quickly before his thoughts drift too far away from him and towards what else he could do with his mouth on Regulus. 

Pandora sighs dreamily. “So good,” she says. “I found a Sopohorous plant and a boyfriend.” 

James nearly chokes on his laughter. “A boyfriend?” 

Pandora nods. “Xenophilius. He’s from Beauxbatons and told me a lot of fascinating things about several beasts I’ve never heard of before. Blibbering Humdinger usually lay their eggs inside of Snidget’s eggs, but since Snidgets are critically endangered so are Blibbering Humdingers. Did you know that?” 

“I did not,” James says. He’s also not entirely sure if this is a fact he should attempt to retain, it does seem rather farfetched. If this was true he’s fairly certain he’d know this fact already, since it does concern the only animal that is relevant to his favourite sport. Favourite thing overall, really. “Sounds like you had a good holiday.” 

“Oh, I really did. I am really happy to be back as well, though, I missed so much while I was gone. I mean… You and Regulus?” 

James grins. “Me and Regulus,” he confirms. Merlin, how badly he wants to finally make this a proper thing. “I’m actually gonna go look for him, if you’d excuse me.” 

“Have fun,” Pandora singsongs, which James is more than determined to do. 

On his way to the sitting room he makes a quick stop in the kitchen to say hi to Remus and get himself something to drink as well. The latter is more successful than the former, since Remus is currently very preoccupied in consuming his boyfriend (taking the extra time to make himself even prettier seemed to have paid off for Sirius) and therefore barely even notices James talking to him. 

James leaves them to their thing with a chuckle and makes his way over to the other side of the house, sipping on his drink. 

The second he steps foot in the sitting room that chuckle as well as the drink get stuck in his throat and he proceeds to cough violently, which pulls the attention of half the people in the room towards him. 

“Ey, Reggie, I think you made your pretty boy stop functioning,” Barty calls with a laugh from where he is slow dancing with Peter to the quick rock song that’s playing. 

He’s right, though. James very much has stopped functioning. He can’t do anything but stare at Regulus. Regulus, who is once again dancing, with Evan this time, on top the table in the middle of the room. 

If James had thought Regulus had looked great last time, it is nothing compared to what James is witnessing now. 

Regulus curls are sticking to his forehead, his face flushed from heat and alcohol by the looks of it, chains of silver around his neck and more rings than usual adorning his fingers. 

James is aware he’s staring. He’s aware his mouth is hanging wide open as his eyes are firmly glued to Regulus, his bared neck where the love bites are still very much visible, even in the low light, the way he sways his hips, his hands running across his own body in a way that has James nearly dying. But not only that - Regulus is singing. James can barely hear him over the music, but the visual alone is enough. His pretty lips wrap around the words in a way that makes James want to eat them off him. 

Fuck, he’s so in love. 

Evan nudges Regulus and nods towards James, and finally Regulus notices him as well. 

He doesn’t stop dancing. Or singing. Instead he turns his full attention on James, watches him through lidded eyes and sings directly to him, his movements becoming even more purposeful, practically lewd. 

James actually has to hold onto the doorframe. Just in case, just to support his weak knees, just in case he floats away, or melts underneath Regulus’ hot stare. 

James almost complains when the song ends and Regulus stops dancing. Only almost, because as soon as the last note sounds out Regulus jumps off the table, stumbling ever so slightly, seemingly more intoxicated than he lets on, and walks over to James. 

James wants to say something, anything, a hello, a ‘I missed you this afternoon’, a ‘you’re bloody hot’, a ‘I need you to kiss me so badly please’. Nothing comes across his lips, his brain still very much incapacitated. 

Faintly in the back of his mind he becomes aware of Peter, Evan and Barty all laughing at him. Probably more of the people in the room that James doesn’t know as well. He can’t get himself to care. 

“You look like someone put a stunning spell on you,” Regulus states with a small laugh. He’s always so much more relaxed when he’s surrounded by the comfort of his friends. And music, apparently. 

“You,” James says, the word coming out scratchy. 

“Me?” Regulus asks. “I’m fairly certain I didn’t use any magic on you, Potter.” 

“You are magic. And stunning,” James corrects. “You’re perfect. You’re- I’m…” I’m in love with you, he almost says. He doesn’t. 

“Perfect, huh?” Regulus asks, looking up at James through his long, dark lashes. It sends flashes of images of Regulus on his knees through James’ mind and he blushes, quickly looks away and takes a sip from his cup, just so he doesn’t blurt out something stupid. 

“I’m sorry for not showing up to our date earlier, I hope Sirius explained everything to you,” Regulus suddenly changes the subject. If it wasn’t for the way he had stumbled coming down from the table and the way he is now half leaning against James for stability James wouldn’t be able to tell Regulus is already drunk with how eloquent he still voices his thoughts, something James can’t do despite still being perfectly sober. 

“He did,” James says, “Don’t worry.” 

“What was it you wanted to tell me?” Regulus asks curiously. “Last night, you said you wanted to tell me something.” 

Apparently they are talking louder than James had expected, because at those words Barty wolf whistles and Evan calls loudly, “Do tell what happened last night, Potter!” 

James raises his free hand to give both of them a V-sign. But this alone consolidates James’ decision not to tell Regulus during the party and so he says, “I’ll tell you when we’re alone.”

“We can go somewhere alone now,” Regulus says and looks up at James in that same way again, through his lashes, his eyes half lidded. 

“Do not use my room to screw!” Evan calls warningly. “Or my parents’,” he adds after a second. 

James, incredibly flustered, is about to tell Evan that that’s not even remotely close to what he meant when he said he needs to get Regulus somewhere alone (even if it’s not something he’d be entirely opposed to), but Regulus is quicker. “Would you rather I screw him right here where everyone can see?” he asks sweetly. 

For the second time that night James chokes and nearly dies coughing because of one Regulus Black. 

“Absolutely!” Barty whistles. “Give us a show, Reggie!” 

Regulus gives Barty the middle finger instead and drags James out of the room by his hand. “He’s a prick,” Regulus mutters. 

“Sirius says you dated him once,” James says. It’s not what he planned to say, but it’s what comes out anyway. 

Regulus snorts. “Well, he’s a very good prick.” 

Which, really, is not at all the answer James had wanted to hear. “Great,” he mumbles bitterly. “Why’d you stop dating then?” 

“We don’t fit,” Regulus says easily. “As a couple, that is.” 

“Good,” James says, then bites his tongue. Luckily he is saved from Regulus questioning his reaction by someone pulling Regulus aside to ask him a question. He sends James an apologetic smile before falling into stilted conversation with the girl. James thinks she might be another Ravenclaw from Regulus’ year, but he isn’t entirely sure.  

When it becomes apparent that the conversation won’t end anytime soon, James quietly lets Regulus know he’ll be in the kitchen and wanders off. 

“I see you found your boyfriend and then immediately lost him again,” a voice sounds towards James as he’s refilling his cup. 

“Ah Evans,” James sighs and slowly turns around, holding the bottle up in an offering to Lily, “it’s the curse of dating all the popular people. You also never had time for me, if I remember correctly.” 

Lily holds the two cups in her hands out for James to refill, which he gladly does. “And if I remember correctly, we never dated, Potter.” 

James grins and wiggles his eyebrows at her. “That’s purely semantics. You know you also fancied me.” 

Lily gives him an unimpressed look and says, with a voice so sweet James genuinely struggles to connect it to her expression, “Yes, James, you are the hottest person I’ve ever had the pleasure to lay my eyes on, your mere presence has always given me butterflies in my stomach and the only reason we never dated was because I felt unworthy of your godly company. If only you’d give me another chance, I’d right all my wrongs and love you ‘till death do us part.” 

“I knew it, Lily!” James rejoices and dramatically falls down onto one knee, stretching his hand out to her, “Oh please, marry me, most wonderful Lily, I’ll cherish you forever and ever! I’ll buy us a quiet cottage, we’ll have twenty children and a cat and they will all have your beautiful green eyes and my incredibly perfect hair!” 

Lily’s facade crumbles at that as she snorts, “The cat will have my eyes as well?” 

James' grin only widens. “Of course, Lils, the entire family.” 

Lily accepts his hand, easily slipping back into the dramatics. “My, then of course, James! I’ll marry you under the condition that we’ll instead have one kid and twenty cats!” 

“All with your eyes and my hair?” 

“Absolutely.” 

James jumps up again and wraps Lily into a hug, twirling her around the kitchen, making her giggle. 

“Oh what a joyful, joyful day!” he proclaims in his poshest accent, once he sets her down again. 

Lily is still giggling, then stops herself when her eyes fall onto the doorway to the kitchen. “Ah, hi Regulus!” she greets happily. At the name James instantly whips around to look at him as well, his face brightening up impossibly more. “I think you just missed the proposal!” Lily continues, “Your idiot boyfriend and I are getting married, you’re obviously invited to the wedding.” 

“I’d rather not,” Regulus says and his voice drips with ice. 

Lily doesn’t let that deter her. “Just as well,” she says brightly. “You can keep him safe until then, I need to find Mary for now anyway, I have a drink to get to her.” And she picks up her two discarded cups. “See you later, Mr Evans!” she calls over her shoulder on her way out of the kitchen. 

“Oy!” James calls after her. “I’m keeping my name! You can take mine!” 

Lily laughs. “No chance in hell, Potter!” 

“Rude,” James mutters. “You’d take my name, right Reg?”

“What?” Regulus asks startled.

“You’d not make me give up my beautiful last name when we get married.”

“Potter is a terrible last name,” Regulus says instantly.

The insult thrown into the room like pure instinct makes James grin. “Rude,” he repeats happily. “Look, you and Sirius are absolutely wonderful people, but I’d rather not marry into the rest of the Black family. Just alone for that Potter is the better last name to pick. You can’t possibly disagree with that.”

Regulus just stares at him blankly. His slightly reddened cheeks are the only indication that he’s following what James is saying. 

“Ahh, well, we can discuss this once the wedding is closer,” James decides.

“What wedding are we discussing?” Sirius asks, sauntering into the kitchen, slurping on his drink through a straw.

“Mine,” James says. “Lily doesn’t want to take my last name so now I’m trying to convince Regulus to change his name to Potter when we get married.”

“Shouldn’t you maybe get yourself into a real relationship first?” Sirius asks with raised eyebrows. “You know, discussing wedding plans while still in a pretend relationship isn’t usually the way people go about this.”

The moment his eyes fall on Regulus’ suddenly very blank expression after the words leave Sirius’ mouth James realises that something is very, very wrong.

Chapter Text

8 - But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you 

“What?” Regulus asks. It’s the first thing he’s said since Sirius came into the otherwise empty kitchen. If despite his intoxication Regulus hadn’t seemed sober before, James would have said he looks like he just sobered up rather abruptly. Something about him seems to have sharpened, uncomfortably defined around the edges. It unsettles James, presses against his throat and makes it difficult to breathe. Makes it difficult to look at Regulus clearly.

Something is wrong.

Something is very, very wrong.

James is still not sure what it is.

“Don’t worry about it, Reggie, we’re just teasing,” Sirius says unbothered. He must also have had quite a bit to drink already, otherwise he would definitely care more about Regulus’ edged appearance. “I highly doubt James was being serious with his proposals.”

“I was not,” James confirms. He tries to smile, tries to keep the teasing tone of the past ten minutes alive, but it doesn’t come out quite right.

“I better hope not, it would’ve been a shit proposal!” Sirius grabs one of the bottles from the counter behind James and toasts it towards his brother and best friend. “Imma get back to letting Remus eat me. If you come up with better proposal plans than the middle of a birthday party let me know!”

James nods in affirmation and with a laugh that comes out too loud to his own ears wishes Sirius lots of fun getting eaten.

Regulus doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t look like he’s properly taken in anything of what Sirius last said. “Pretend relationship?” he says instead, like a very late echo of Sirius’ previous words long after they have dissipated into the air, long after Sirius himself has left the room.

James frowns, the unsettling feeling in his stomach only growing. “I mean, yeah?” he says lamely, his voice raising in uncertainty at the end.

Regulus just looks at him, unmoving, unblinking.

James wishes his face would do anything. Anything at all. Give him any clue of what Regulus is thinking at the moment, but he isn’t given a single twitch. It’s just a blank expression; too sharp and too empty of any emotion at all.

“I’m not... I don’t–” James breaks the silence when it stretches on too long, suffocating him slowly. He takes a deep breath and tries again. “Look, I don’t know what’s wrong but something is obviously wrong right now. I just don’t understand what. You need to... Can you tell me what just happened?”

“Pretend,” Regulus says and his voice is cold. Not in that way he uses it to drive people away, or hurt them, or voice his displeasure. It is cold for the mere fact that it is void of everything. A nothingness that makes James shiver. Pretend. Like that is meant to tell James all that he needs to know. A single, cold word.

Wrong, his mind screams. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

“I don’t follow,” he says meekly.

“Sirius told you to get yourself a real partner.”

“I mean... That was kind of the plan...”

“What about me?” Regulus asks and it’s the first time there’s some kind of emotion in his voice. Just the tiniest crack at the end, barely audible if it weren’t for James meticulously searching for anything he could get.

“Uh. You were part of that plan,” James says slowly, not entirely sure how to say that he would very much like to get himself a real boyfriend – that real boyfriend being Regulus – without straight up asking him out now. Because if earlier hadn’t been the right moment for that, now most definitely wasn’t either.

“How?” Regulus asks.

“Look, can we talk about this later?” James pleads. “This is the thing I’ve wanted to talk to you about and I really, really want to get this right and now just. Now doesn’t seem like it’d be right at all.”

“No,” Regulus says and now that sharpness about his appearance also drips into his voice. “So I’m not your real boyfriend?”

“What?” James asks, so taken aback by the question.

Wrong, still resounds in his mind and slowly, too slowly it dawns on him what exactly is wrong.

“It’s a simple question, James. Is this–” he motions between himself and James, short and jerky movements, “–real?”

“What?” James asks again, because it just– it doesn’t make sense. But Regulus keeps staring at him until James continues in a stutter, “No, it’s– we’re– this is ... was all for Sirius. So he could go out with Remus? Why do you– Why would you ask if it’s real? I don’t... We’ve been fake dating for weeks, Reg, I don’t understand what–”

“Okay,” Regulus interrupts him and grabs another bottle from the counter and in one swift motion opens it before he turns his back to James.

“Reg, what–”

“Good luck finding yourself a real partner.”

The words are a punch to James’ gut and it takes him a second to react. A second too long, as Regulus already walks out the kitchen.

James hurries to follow.

Wrong, it still screams in his head. Wrong. Wrong. Everything about this is wrong.

He gets one foot out of the kitchen before the door swings shut, slamming into him with enough force that he stumbles back into the counter, set into motion by all of Regulus’ hidden emotions condensed into one burst of wandless magic.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

“Regulus!” James shouts, desperate now, because this shouldn’t be happening. “Regulus, wait!” He rattles on the door, tries to pry it open, but it won’t move an inch, keeping James firmly locked in the kitchen. “Regulus!” he calls again, but all the answer he gets is the music behind the door turning ever so slightly louder.

James wishes he had his wand with him. Wishes he was good enough at wandless magic to open the door again. But all that wishing brings him just as much as repeatedly banging against the door – he’s still very much stuck in a room full of snacks and alcohol and the remnants of a conversation that somehow broke all of those comfortable, warm feelings surrounding Regulus.

After several minutes of fruitlessly pounding against the door and calling out Regulus’ name James has to accept the fact that on top of locking him in here, Regulus must have also put the kitchen under some sort of silencing charm, leaving James cut off from everyone else.

It takes him embarrassingly long to remember the two-way mirror in his pocket.

“Sirius,” he nearly sobs into the mirror, “Please, Sirius, I need you.”

Sirius doesn’t reply and the mirror stays only a mirror.

It takes even longer for James to remember that his best friend gave his half of the mirror to Regulus this morning. This morning – a time that seems so endlessly far away James doesn’t know how to comprehend it. In the span of the last half an hour an entire lifetime seems to have passed.

“Reg,” James says instead into the mirror, trying to level out his voice. “Regulus, please answer me. Please talk to me.”

He doesn’t. Doesn’t say anything, doesn’t appear in the piece of glass in James’ hand. James is still alone, still left staring at his own reflection, pale and panicked.

In the end he sinks down to the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, his head between his arms. He tries to remember how to breathe normally, without his breath hitching every couple seconds, without none of the air making it into his lungs. It takes considerable effort.
Now is not the time to have a breakdown. He can’t panic now, not about this, not when he still doesn’t even know what exactly happened.

It seemed – and really, just thinking about it makes his head spin – as if Regulus hadn’t been aware that they were fake dating. Thought they were actually together. But that was impossible. It’s been weeks, they talked about this! Regulus had to have known, because Sirius asked him for this favour. And James is certain he himself talked with Regulus about it several times. And Regulus hadn’t even liked him to begin with, so there’s no reason why he would go out with him if he had thought James was asking him out for real. It doesn’t make sense.

Regulus had to have known.

But if this is not the problem, then what is? Why is Regulus so mad at him? Why did it feel like James just got broken up with, without even having been in a real relationship beforehand? Could you get dumped by someone you never dated?

James takes a deep breath.

Then another.

And another.

When he’s counted eight breaths he gets off the floor. His own feelings could come later. Or not at all, preferably. For now he has to find Regulus and make sure he is okay. Make sure they are okay. Figure out how to fix what James doesn’t even know how he broke in the first place.

James hasn’t been a Marauder for several years for nothing. He knows how to get out of situations he’d rather not be in, how to escape places that are not meant to be escaped. So now, when he looks around the kitchen, his eyes fall easily on the window. It’s nearly dark outside by now, the days slowly getting shorter again, but he’s glad for it. He doesn’t particularly want to see what exactly lies below the window, considering the fact it’s on the top floor of the Rosier Manor and currently his escape route.

Without much thinking – because when has James Potter ever done anything well thought through – he pushes the assortment of bottles and bowls aside, opens the window and climbs on the counter.

He peaks down and wonders if he could just jump. He could, he decides, but he might not come out of it completely unharmed (or alive), which right now is not his preferred way of reaching the ground.

All of this would be so much easier if he just had his fucking wand. Or his broom. Or preferably both.

All of this would also be so much easier if it wasn’t bloody pouring outside.

(All of this would be so much easier if he knew what the fuck was going on.)  

Resigned he swings his legs over the windowsill, then lowers himself slowly down, keeping a tight grip on the small ledge. He grits his teeth and finally just lets go. It’s a shot in the dark (quite literally, really) but it works; only a fraction of a second later his feet collide with the stone ledge of the window below him. James has rarely ever been as thankful for the balancing drills during the Quidditch program he had to endure for weeks on end as he is now, slightly wobbly on the narrow, slippery sill, but very much standing and very much still alive.

He has to repeat the process only once before he finally has proper, albeit soggy ground beneath his feet. He looks back up towards the open kitchen window, warm light flooding out into the grey night, rain splattering on his face, making his glasses practically unusable.

He takes another deep breath before quickly walking around the house and hammering against the front door.

Someone James doesn’t know opens. “Mate, the door was open, there was no reason to knock that aggressively,” the rather tipsy looking boy says. “Why are you wet?” he adds after giving James a scrutinising look.

With a blank look on his face James lifts his finger to point at the sky that is still dispersing water onto him. “I’d be less wet if you’d actually let me get back inside,” he huffs. He knows he’s being a little snappy but at the moment he doesn’t have the time or nerve for stupid niceties with drunk people he doesn’t know or care about.

Luckily the boy moves aside then and lets James pass, who without another word steps into the house, dripping water all over the floor.

He quickly hurries back up the stairs to the second floor, where most of the party is taking place and he is hoping to find Regulus again. He barely makes it past the last step of the stairs before his path is intercepted by Mary Macdonald. And James loves her, truly, he does, but right now he is cursing her entire existence. He needs to get to Regulus now.

“Jesus, James, what happened to you?”

“Rain,” James says shortly, not wanting to spend any more time than necessary on this conversation. Not when he has so much more important matters to get to.

Unfortunately his short answer seems to have the opposite effect, as Mary puts a hand on his chest, stopping him from continuing. “Why were you outside in the first place?” she asks, pulling out her wand from somewhere underneath her dress. How exactly she stored it there, James doesn’t know and quite honestly also doesn’t want to know.

“I really don’t have the time for this right now, Mary,” James huffs out.

She only gives him an unimpressed look and doesn’t remove the hand from his chest. The fact that she’s still holding her wand, pointing it towards him doesn’t exactly make him want to piss her off at the moment, though, so after a second of defiant scowling he adds on. “Got stuck in the kitchen. Had to climb out the window. It’s pouring outside and I need to find Regulus.”

“I have so many questions,” Mary sighs, but doesn’t ask any of them, for which James is endlessly thankful right now. “Just let me dry you real quick, you’re gonna make someone slip and break their neck with all the water you’re leaving around.”

James shrugs defeatedly and lets Mary cast her spells, watching as the water is slowly sucked out of his clothes. Too slowly, in his opinion. It does leave him considerably warmer, though, so he bites back his complaint.

“Now go, you idiot,” Mary says once she deems him dry enough, “find your boyfriend.”

The words make James flinch. He’s not my boyfriend, he almost says. He’s not entirely sure why it seems so important to point out now, when he’s been more than happy to let everyone believe just that for several weeks before. Maybe it’s just for the fact that if Regulus isn’t his boyfriend, that means he can’t have broken up with him. If he’s not his boyfriend, then James can still ask him to be just that and everything will be fine. If he’s not his boyfriend, then he doesn’t have to feel as if somehow he fucked everything up, without even knowing how.

“Thanks,” is all James mutters in the end before quickly pushing past Mary back into the sitting room, hoping he’ll find Regulus there once more.

He does.

Regulus isn’t dancing this time round. James is somewhat glad for that, he rather needs his brain to be functioning right now. Instead he is standing near a window talking to someone James vaguely recognises, but can’t properly place. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the barely existing space between them James couldn’t care less at the moment who that someone is. The way the boy is leaning into Regulus while he’s talking to him makes James grit his teeth, though, and he quickly pushes through the people and towards Regulus, lightly placing his hand on his arm to get his attention. “Reg,” he says lowly, ignoring the fact that the other unknown boy is still talking, only sending him a vile look. “Can we please talk?”

Regulus ignores him.

He doesn’t even shake his hand off, he simply stands there, keeps taking sips from his bottle while he listens to the other more and more irritating growing person talk, pretending as if James doesn’t exist at all.

“Regulus,” James says a little more insistently.

“Would you like to get some fresh air, Benjy?” Regulus interrupts his conversation partner – Benjy Fenwick, James recalls the name, his lips curling up in distaste at the realisation – who looks confused between Regulus and James.

“For fuck’s sake, Reg, please, just talk to me!”

Benjy steps forward then, gently but still firmly pushing James a step back. “Take a hint and stop bothering him,” he says, “he obviously doesn’t want to talk to you.”

James wants to scream. He very nearly does, but manages to turn it into a choked off groan of frustration instead. “I’m not bothering him! You’re bothering me right now! He’s my boyfriend and I need to talk to him!”

“Are you, James?” Regulus asks coldly.

“What?” James asks, the sudden regained attention from Regulus taking him off guard.

Regulus slowly turns to him, Benjy forgotten, and regards James with a smile, sharp and cold and not reaching his eyes. “Are you my boyfriend, James?”

“I– I mean...” James sends a panicked look towards Benjy. He can’t say no if he wants to hold onto any chance of keeping Operation Dating Idiots Can’t Kiss running, they can’t exactly blurt that out at a birthday party with all their friends in attendance. He can’t, however, say yes either. Because he isn’t. He isn’t Regulus’ boyfriend. Not in the way that Regulus is asking about.

Benjy, luckily, takes a hint better than James does and gestures vaguely towards the other side of the room to where he a moment later, with a mumbled “good luck” to Regulus, walks off to. Good riddance.

Regulus is still looking at James, waiting for him to answer the question.

“You are,” James mumbles. “You’re my boyfriend for everyone else because you agreed to this, we said we’d help Sirius out.”

“But I’m not your boyfriend when everyone else isn’t around.”

“Regulus,” James pleads, “I don’t understand why we’re having this conversation now. Please can you just–”

“I never agreed to – to fake date you,” Regulus interrupts him, his voice raising ever so slightly in hysterics at the end.

James nervously looks around, but everyone else is far away enough to not hear them over the music still blaring through the house. “Reg...”

“I didn’t!” Regulus keeps talking. “You asked me to go out on a date with you and I agreed! You asked me to be your boyfriend and I agreed! I never agreed for any of this to be fake!”

“We talked about thi–,” James starts meekly but gets immediately interrupted again.

“Don’t say we talked about this, because we didn’t, James. We didn’t talk about this. I wouldn’t have agreed to your stupid plan if you had told me about it! I would have never gone out with you just to do Sirius some favour!”

James can hear the blood rushing in his ears. His heart is slowly but steadily dropping, leaving his chest cold. “Then why did you agree?” he questions quietly, both needing and dreading the answer.

“Because I wanted to!” Regulus’ voice loses all of its calm, collected composure. “I wanted to go out with you! I wanted to spend time with you and go on stupid dates with you and be your fucking boyfriend, James, because I liked you! And I thought you liked me too, I thought we were in a relationship, but obviously this was all just a fucking game to you, just another stupid fucking prank.” He huffs angrily, but his voice shakes when he continues, “Well, congratulations, it was successful. I fucking fell for it.”

James just stares at him. This is too much information at once and he doesn’t know how to take it all in, to process it quick enough to say something before Regulus walks away again.

Regulus liked him.

Regulus wanted to go out with him.

Regulus wanted to be his boyfriend.

And yet James can’t help but notice that all of that was spoken in the past tense.

He could have dated Regulus, all this time he could have really dated Regulus because somehow Regulus had thought that was what was happening. Somewhere, somehow, this crucial piece of information had gotten lost. So incredibly miscommunicated, that James wanted to ask of Regulus what Regulus the entire time had already given to him.

And Merlin, he had wanted to ask Regulus out, had been trying to find a good moment to do that so Regulus wouldn’t just straight up say no, all the while he had said yes weeks ago already. And James still wants to do it properly. Ask him in a nice moment just for them. Still wants to ask him to be his boyfriend, for real this time, with some romantic words in a soft segment of life. But if he doesn’t do it now, he thinks, he might never get a chance again.

“It wasn’t a game to me,” he says. “It wasn’t. I mean it did all come to be because you needed to go on dates so Sirius could go out with Remus–” which you knew!, James wants to scream, you knew this! Sirius told you about this! We talked about this! He doesn’t say it. Not yet. The more important things first, and then he can still try to figure out how this information slipped past Regulus’ sharp mind. “–but it was never a game to me. I enjoyed every single one of our dates. I missed you when I was in Germany and I want to kiss you all the bloody time and I love listening to you talk about the stars and your friends and poetry and how incredibly stupid I am and how much you hate my opinions on the best Quidditch strategies. None of the things I ever told you were a lie.”

Regulus scoffs, “I struggle to believe that considering our entire relationship was a lie.”

Was. Still that past tense. James doesn’t like it one bit. Was implies that it’s over. Was implies that James got broken up with before he ever got the chance to go out with Regulus.

“Why would you think it was real?” The desperation in his voice is audible even to himself.

“Because, James,” Regulus seethes, “You asked me to go on a date with you.”

“I asked you out on a fake date,” James corrects. But now that he says it he isn’t entirely sure anymore. Had he clarified it was fake? He doesn’t actually remember how he had asked Regulus out the first time. He thinks he might not have done much asking at all.

Regulus presses his lips together.

“I didn’t know you thought it was real! How was I supposed to know you thought it was real, you literally hated me until like very recently! And Sirius talked to you about it all, he asked you for this favour before I did.”

“Sirius didn’t say anything to me.”

James just gapes at him. How? How was any of this happening? “He didn’t?”

“No. He didn’t. Are we done now?” And he starts turning away.

But James is absolutely not done now. “If you thought we were really dating, why did you never kiss me?” he blurts out, quickly reaching out to grab Regulus’ wrist, to keep him from walking away.

Regulus frowns at him. “I did kiss you.”

“Twice,” James points out. “That’s not exactly relationship amounts of kissing.”

“I just thought you never wanted to.” Regulus' frown only deepens, a petulant pout appearing on his lips now, a slight blush rising high on his cheeks. “That you didn’t like it, maybe just don’t like the way I kiss. I didn’t want to push you.”

And Merlin, doesn’t that just make James want to kiss him even more. “Reg, I’ve kissed nearly all my friends. I like kissing. I literally told all of them that I like kissing you best, you were there.”

“I thought you just didn’t want to hurt my feelings,” Regulus huffs but the blush on his cheeks slowly spreads and he looks nearly angry about his body’s physical reaction to James. Then, with that same anger, “When you called me while you were in Germany? Was I just purely convenience? You were horny and needed someone easy to get you off quicker, is that it? I was stupid enough to think it all was real and you used it to your liking?”

“What?” James blanches. “Fucking hell, Reg, no! I– fuck,” James momentarily hides his face in his hands. He has to take a deep breath before he can look at Regulus again and continue. “I was drunk. I realised I fancied you. I wasn’t trying to use you, I’d never do that! Merlin, I felt so bad about it afterwards, why do you think I stopped talking to you right after?”

“Barty thought you cheated on me.”

And isn’t that just a devastating revelation. “I’d never–”

Regulus laughs then, cold and hollow. “Obviously not. Considering we weren't actually together, you couldn't really have cheated on me, could you?”

“Merlin, how low do you think of me?”

“If it makes you feel any better, Potter,” Regulus says and the usage of his last name makes James flinch, “I told Barty to go fuck himself when he suggested it, that you’d never sink that low.” He huffs out another laugh, this one filled to the brim with sadness. “I truly did think you liked me. I’m glad we could finally clear that up.”

“No, no Reg I did! Do, I mean! I like you so, so much, don’t just–”

But Regulus doesn’t let him finish talking. “I’ll save you the trouble of trying to make me feel better,” he says, his voice once again perfectly level. “You can tell Sirius that he’ll have to find himself another way of getting to date his real boyfriend. I won’t burden you with having to pretend you fancy me any longer, I’m done with this.”

“I’m not pretending anymore,” James tries to stop Regulus. “I do f–”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, then,” Regulus cuts him off before he shakes James off and walks away.

James tries to follow. He isn’t willing to give up this easily, to let Regulus believe that James was doing all of this for fun, that he didn’t also have feelings. He tries to follow, but Regulus must have sent some kind of sign to his friends, because suddenly Evan is there, holding him back.

“Let me go,” James snaps, “This is all such a huge misunderstanding, I need to explain this to Reg!”

“Leave it, Potter.” None of the usual cheeriness is left in Evan’s voice. “If you can’t give Regulus space I’ll throw you out. So either you’ll find yourself some other room to have fun in or you can go home, and I’ll make sure you won’t manage to take another step into my house.”

James defiantly holds the glare Evan is giving him. He is very close to physically taking him out so he can go after Regulus and ask him out. But in the end he just defeatedly drops his gaze and takes a step back. “Can you please just tell him that he’s still misunderstanding it? I need him to listen to me. Please.”

“That depends on what you did to upset him like that.”

“Nothing,” James says truthfully.

Evan snorts. “I highly doubt that. I know Regulus is a dramatic git, but he wouldn’t act like this if his boyfriend did nothing.”

“I’m not his boyfriend,” James mumbles. There’s no point in keeping this a secret any longer. There’s no point in pretending, considering Regulus made it very clear he won’t do it anymore.

Or rather at all, James corrects his thoughts. 

Evan stares at him. It takes him several seconds to blink again. When he does, his face shifts into pure fury. “You broke up with him? In the middle of Barty’s birthday party? And then have the audacity to say it’s nothing?”

“I didn’t break up with him,” James huffs. “We were never together.”

“Oh yeah?” Evan pushes with both hands against James’ chest, making him stumble back a step. “Is that why Regulus keeps harping on about his oh so perfect boyfriend whenever he’s with Barty and I? Why you’ve been holding his hand every time we were out together somewhere? Why he still has an entire neck full of love bites from you? That’s what you call never together?”

James only lets his heart do a tiny skip at the idea that Regulus talked about him being perfect to his friends, before he angrily tells it to shut up, that he messed up his opportunity to be happy about these kinds of things.

“It was all pretend,” James explains tiredly. “To help Sirius. To get around the curse, so he could still date Remus. It was never real.”

“Seemed pretty real to me,” Evan snaps.

“Regulus thought it was,” James says quietly.

That’s when Evan punches him. And really, James thinks he kind of deserves that. If it wasn’t his own face that was hurting so incredibly much right now James might have congratulated Evan on his excellent form. It was a good punch. Good enough, in fact, to make James’ vision go blurry for a second. He can feel something tickling down his cheek. He’s fairly sure he’s bleeding.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Evan shouts. The volume hurts James’ head even more and he squeezes his eyes closed. “Do you think this is funny?”

“I really don’t.”

Evan doesn’t seem to hear him. “I thought it was bad enough when you ignored him, but I will not let you get away with playing with his feelings like this. I’ll fucking murder you, Potter. I’ll–”

James is glad for Peter suddenly appearing and stepping between him and Evan, because from the look on Evan’s face and the fact he is already gripping his wand James is not very confident that he wouldn’t make true on his words.

“What the fuck, Rosier,” Peter hisses. “Drop your wand.”

“No, actually,” Barty apparently also joined them along with Peter. “If Evan wants to kill Potter, I’m sure there’s a good reason for that. Let him.”

“I’m not going to let you kill my best friend!” Peter huffs. “Or hurt him in any other way. I don’t care what he did to you, you’re not–”

“I wouldn’t give a flying fuck if he did something to me,” Evan spits, “This is about Regulus, and I’m going to make him regret ever being born.”

James would quite like to just disappear. Truth be told he wants to curl up somewhere and cry for a couple days because he already regrets ever being born. “I didn’t... It was a misunderstanding,” he says tiredly. Somehow this is all he’s been saying for the past hour and somehow there’s still no one listening long enough for him to clear up said misunderstanding.

Evan snorts out a humourless laugh. “Pretending to be in love with him and dating him while he’s fancied you for years is what we call a misunderstanding now, huh? Did you think it was funny when you broke his heart when you told him?”

“What?” Everything suddenly seems to be pushed into focus, pulling him into one point, piercing through his gut and ringing in his ears. For years. Fancied him for years.

“What do you mean broke Regulus’ heart?” Peter asks confused. “Didn’t he know he was fake dating James? Why would that break his heart?”

“Fake dating?” Barty joins in as well now, his voice dangerously calm. “You pretended to date Regulus?”

James is wholly overwhelmed. The noises around him are getting too much, the people talking over each other are too much, he can barely recognise words anymore. Everything is too warm and too loud and he feels like he’s suffocating. He stares blankly at Evan and Barty who are now both shouting at him, Evan, his wand pointed at James, and Barty, looking like he might only not be doing the same because he doesn’t have his, while Peter is trying to hold them back, also talking agitatedly. James has no idea what they’re saying. He just stares.

And stares.

And stares.

Then he turns around and just walks away.

He’s certain Evan and Barty are screaming at him some more, probably trying to stop him from just leaving but James really doesn’t have the emotional capacity left in himself to care.

He needs to get out.

He needs to breathe.

He needs Sirius.

When he exits the sitting room he looks around frantically, trying to spot his best friend. It shouldn’t be this difficult, usually Sirius is the first person James sees in a crowd, some extra Sirius-sense in him letting him know where to spot him at any time. But James’ head is still fuzzy and everything is still so overwhelmingly loud that he can’t recognise faces well enough.

It takes him a while, but finally he catches a glimpse of dark curls pressed against a wall. A couple off in a corner, wrapped around each other, obviously kissing. And James wouldn’t think twice about it, because of course Remus and Sirius would spend the entire evening snogging, only it’s clearly not Remus who’s wrapped around Sirius, arms slung tightly around his waist, one hand sneaking underneath the shirt. It’s so clearly not Remus, the person being considerably smaller and broader built, the lack of clothes James might have found in his grandfather’s closet were his grandfather still alive so disconcerting, that it takes James far too long to realise that it’s also not Sirius he’s seeing.

James halts abruptly in his search for his best friend. All thoughts of implied promises of giving Regulus the space he very clearly demanded leave James as it slowly sinks in what he is witnessing.

If Benjy Fenwick had been a source of irritation to James earlier, like this, backing Regulus up into a wall, a hand on his waist underneath his shirt, kissing him, had quickly changed that irritation to pure, blinding hatred.

James wants to cry.

He wants to throw up.

He wants to punch Fenwick.

He doesn’t do any of those things.

With three strides James reaches the couple (referring to Regulus with anyone else as a couple, even in his head, makes James feel nauseous) and he grabs onto Fenwick’s shoulder, pulling him back sharply. “Get off him,” he hisses.

Regulus blinks in confusion at first in light of the sudden lack of a body pressed against his own, then he sees who it was that so abruptly pulled his kissing partner off him and he scowls at James.

“You should really take a hint and leave him alone, mate, he clearly doesn’t want to talk to you,” Fenwick huffs irritably.

“Shut up,” Regulus snaps and with satisfaction James realises he’s addressing Fenwick. But before he can let the feeling settle in, get drunk off just the slightest bit of Regulus’ dismissal towards the other, Regulus continues, now speaking to him, “And you fuck off, Potter.”

“Why would you kiss him?” James asks, desperation and betrayal mercilessly tumbling from his tongue along his words.

Regulus glares at him. “Because I wanted to. And since we’re not dating there’s nothing stopping me from doing what I want. Or whom. What I do is none of your fucking concern.”

The words hurt, slicing right through James. It’s the truth, he knows it is, and yet he wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt to hear it. And yet, worse still is that through all of it, all James can think is that even now, even with a gaze cold enough to still James’ heart, and words sharp enough to slice through it and leave it in a bloody puddle on the floor, even like this Regulus is the most beautiful thing James has ever seen. He doesn’t like being hurt by Regulus, but at least like this, as long as he is being hurt by him, he gets anything from him at all.

“Don’t,” James says weakly. “Please. I don’t want you to kiss him.”

Regulus sneers at him. “Stop acting like you have some claim over me, James. You’re not actually my boyfriend.”

“But I want to be.”

Regulus laughs, and it’s cold and hard and bitter. “What, so you can keep helping out your ‘heart and your entire world’?”

The way Regulus enunciates the words makes him think he is quoting James back at himself. He doesn’t remember when he might have used those words, but it wouldn’t surprise him if he at some point talked about Sirius like that.

“No,” he says now, quieter than before. Regulus is finally listening, and suddenly it feels too intimate. Wrong to keep talking loudly, especially with Benjy Fenwick still standing there, looking between James and Regulus with furrowed eyebrows, seeming entirely unsure whether or not he should keep hovering and stop James from talking to Regulus, or leave. James hopes he would just finally settle for the latter. “I want to be your boyfriend just for the two of us. It has nothing to do with Sirius. Just you. Yesterday, when we were stargazing, I realised I wanted to ask you out. Like, properly. Ask you to be my boyfriend. I didn’t do it then because I didn’t feel like it was the right moment and I wanted to do this right so badly, because you deserve as much. I still want that, I want to date you, I want to take you out on real dates and be in a real relationship with you.”

Regulus doesn’t say anything. He just looks at James, several emotions flickering across his face, fast enough that James can’t decipher them, until he just regards him with a blank stare.

“I want this to be real...”

“Why?” Regulus asks then.

“What?”

“Why do you want it to be real now?”

James sends a glance over to Fenwick who is still bloody hovering. “Can you give us a minute, please?” James asks, trying his best to sound polite. It probably sounds convincing enough for anyone who doesn’t know him at all.

Fenwick sends a questioning look to Regulus, but he doesn’t lift his gaze from James. In the end he just shrugs and walks away. James hopes he doesn’t have to see him again. Preferably ever.

“I like you, Regulus,” James starts his explanation. “More than that, really. I don’t just think you’re beautiful and smart and wonderful and fancy you a whole lot for all those reasons. I love spending time with you. Love talking to you. Love listening to you. I love everything about you. I went into this for Sirius, thinking maybe I could eventually convince you to be my friend, but along the way of pretending to, well, fall for you, I properly did. And I did have suspicions that you might like me too, at least I did towards the end, but I never once thought you didn’t know it wasn’t real and I am so so sorry for that. I don’t know how it went so incredibly wrong, but I want to fix it. And I want it to be real. I don’t want to pretend anymore, I want to do it properly. This is not at all how I had planned any of this but I can’t really do anything about that now, really, can I... So. Will you go out with me? On a real date?”

“No,” Regulus says shortly.

And James had really not expected that answer. Not after having found out that Regulus fancies him. Not after having finally told him how he feels himself. He did not expect Regulus to say no.

(But then, he thinks, maybe he should have. It was all the answer he ever got when asking people out, after all. The one singular time he had gotten a yes was the only time he had not meant it to be genuine.)

“What?” James asks dumbly.

“No,” repeats Regulus. “You do know what that word means, right? It means I don’t want to go out with you, real or fake.”

“But–” James doesn’t know how words work, doesn’t know how thoughts work either so it takes a while before he can find either and put them into a somewhat coherent sentence. “Evan said you’ve fancied me for years.”

“And that was not for Evan to tell,” Regulus fumes, somehow still cold and calm about it.

“But why would you say no?”

“From where I stand,” Regulus explains, “I’ve dated you for weeks. You broke up with me and broke my trust and I have no intention of repeating the same mistake again.”

“I didn’t break up with you,” James says confused. Wrong it still screams in his brain but he can’t fit everything together to make it right again. “I meant to ask you out today. That’s the opposite of breaking up with you. I couldn’t have broken up with you even if I had wanted to, I haven’t even dated you yet.”

The gaze under which Regulus holds him only hardens and James gets the impression that he just said about the worst thing he could have in this situation. “Thank you for the reminder,” Regulus says sharply. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“Regulus...”

“A bit of advice, James?” he says already turning away, and with a breaking heart James realises he failed at his one chance of fixing everything. “Next time you want to ask someone out maybe don’t lie to them for two months beforehand.”

Chapter Text

9 - Not even close, not even a little bit 

James doesn’t stay long at the party after that. He mumbles some kind of excuse to Marlene, asks her to let all their friends know, should they ask, that he doesn’t feel well and would be going home. She pats his back and tells him to feel better quickly, too buzzed on alcohol to look at James long enough to realise he’s lying.

Then again, he isn’t really lying anyway.

To be frank, James hasn’t felt this awful in quite a while. The evening had been too much of a mixture of emotions – hope, happiness, heartbreak... James would like to be ecstatic about the fact that Regulus fancies him, if only that very fact wasn’t the reason Regulus ended their fake dating and won’t properly date James now. Or at least, it is very much part of the reason. The other part being that James had apparently been clueless enough about being in a real relationship for bloody weeks.

“James? Is that you?”

James groans inwardly. He had hoped he’d manage to come back home without his parents noticing, really not in the mood right now to have to explain to them that his apparent boyfriend who was factually only his fake boyfriend but somehow also actually his boyfriend boyfriend had just broken up with him.

“Hi,” he calls back, trying to sound as chipper as he doesn’t feel.

His mother peaks out from the living room. “I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow morning. Is everything all right?”

James nods. “’m just tired and feel a bit off,” he says. It’s not lying. Just downplaying it a tiny bit. “I’m going to bed, night night.”

Euphemia frowns and throws a look back into the living room, presumably to look at the old grandfather clock in a corner. James has no idea what the time is. He doesn’t much care anyway, just sends a quick smile that barely reaches the corners of his lips and certainly not his eyes to his mother. Before she can discern it well enough in the dim light streaming into the hallway from the living room and ask more questions he hurries up the stairs.

Just in case, James locks the door to his room. He hasn’t locked it in forever, on one hand because his parents are not the kinds of parents to just walk into his room unannounced, on the other because the only person who does do that is Sirius and there’s never really been a situation when James would have minded him barging in. Right now, however, he doesn’t want to chance it. Doesn’t want to talk to anyone.

The fact that he doesn’t even want to talk to Sirius at the moment worries even himself. There’s never been a time when he didn’t want to talk to Sirius. He is usually the only person James can stand talking to when he’s feeling down. But now...

It’s not like James is angry with him. He doesn’t think he is justified to be angry with him. It’s just that Sirius is the entire reason why James asked Regulus out in the first place. Is the reason why James assumed that Regulus knew about the plan from the very beginning. Is the reason why Regulus found out about it in the end, nearly two months after it all started.

So maybe he is the tiniest bit angry with Sirius.

It’s a weird concept to James and he has no idea how to process the emotion. Sirius has only ever done the right thing, in James’ eyes, and even now James doesn’t think Sirius really did anything wrong, it’s just that his actions, combined with James’, unknowingly led to James getting his heart broken.

James tosses his glasses aside and curls up in his bed, pulling his blanket over himself. It’s immediately far too warm to breathe, but maybe suffocating isn’t the worst outcome at the moment.

As he closes his eyes, escaping from one darkness into the next, the bitter realisation crosses his mind that maybe, the previous night when he finally had grasped that he is in love with Regulus, he should have wished on a star after all.

When James opens his eyes it’s completely dark. He feels like someone dragged his body through a pasta maker, exhaustion lining his every muscle and tiredness still dragging on his mind, which is why it takes him far too long to realise what woke him up.

“James. Prongs. There’s no way you’re already asleep so please pick up the bloody mirror. Jaaaaaaames.”

James sends a glare to the other side of his room where he abandoned his trousers before going to bed, from where now Sirius’ voice is coming through his side of the two-way-mirror. Considering he can’t actually see the mirror, both because of the darkness and his general lack of proper eyesight, glaring feels a lot less satisfying than it should.

For a minute James debates getting up and answering Sirius. Any other night he would have done so in a heartbeat, but tonight doesn’t feel like any other night in any way, so in the end James turns around in his bed, squeezes his eyes shut and pretends he can’t hear Sirius calling his name until he falls asleep again.

The next time he opens his eyes the sun is rising and there’s someone knocking (really, it’s banging) on the door to his room.

James, once again, pretends not to hear, but then the person (Sirius, James figures out quickly enough) starts shouting “Bloody hell, James, open up or I’m going to get my broom and fly in through your window.” That in the end forces James to drag himself out of bed with a groan to unlock the door.

“You could have alohomorad that,” James grumbles as he steps aside to let Sirius pass.

“You locked your door for a reason I assume, I’m not just going to unlock it with a spell. That feels a bit invasive,” Sirius says as if that’s obvious. James is too exhausted to point out that he literally threatened to break in through the window instead and that there’s really not anything better about that option. He just shrugs and crawls back into bed. Sirius, close to follow, wraps his arms around him.

“So what’s been eating you?” Sirius asks once he’s comfortably snuggled against James’ side. James, lying on his stomach, his face pressed into his pillow, makes an undefined grumbling noise.

Sirius starts gently tugging on stray strands of James’ hair. It eerily reminds him of what Regulus did before the sun set on their stargazing hill.

James wants to cry.

“The stupid wall between me and Moony was suddenly back last night and I didn’t know why, and you wouldn’t answer the mirror when I got it back from Reggie. I asked around and Reggie was, like, insanely drunk and nearly punched me for asking about you and Marlene said you were sick? And then I come here this morning and Effie told me you went to sleep at about ten but still haven’t gotten up. So what’s going on, James?”

“I feel like shit.” James’ voice is muffled through the fabric of the pillow.

“Yeah, no shit mate. I figured as much,” Sirius says. “But why? This isn’t just being ill, is it?”

James only shrugs. He doesn’t particularly want to talk about this.

He doesn’t particularly want to talk about anything.

The tugging on James’ hair stills, Sirius’ hands hovering somewhere in the air above James’ head. James can practically taste the hesitation before Sirius’ next words. “Peter said you and Reggie fought.” James stays silent. “I’m inclined to believe him, because Barty refused to talk to me as well and Evan threatened to throw me out, on the basis of me being your best friend and him being Reg’s.” His voice turns more serious then. “What happened, James?”

James rolls over on his back, staring at the blurry ceiling above him.

Next to him Sirius flinches, sucks in a surprised breath. “James,” he says quietly, and then there are soft fingers against his skin where Evan’s fist collided with his cheek the previous night, and it is James’ turn to flinch. “What happened to you?”

James opens his mouth. Closes it again. Tries once more. Fails again.

In the end he sits up, pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around. He hides his face in the crook of his elbows and mumbles. “I properly fucked up...”

“I doubt that,” Sirius says. Always having far too much faith in James.

James shakes his head. Sirius is wrong. He doesn’t get it. He’ll do soon enough, though. “Regulus doesn’t want to fake date me anymore. Or date me, really.”

“You asked him out?” Sirius asks appalled. “I thought you’d wait until after the party. I thought we agreed that doing it in the midst of lots of loud people wouldn’t be a great idea for that. Did he punch you? Is that why?”

James shakes his head. “Evan punched me... And I didn’t want to. Ask Regulus out like that,” he promises. “He– I...” He swallows. Tries again. “You never told him about the fake dating plan.” He wants it to come out like a question. It doesn’t work. There’s no doubt anymore that this is how everything started to go wrong in the beginning.

“I mean, no,” Sirius says hesitantly, confusion edging his voice. “That’s what I had you for.”

James winces. “I might have... also not done that...”

“What?” Sirius asks dumbfounded.

“I thought he knew...”

“James,” Sirius says and there’s something dangerous in the way he says his name now, precise and calculating. “This entire time– Did you ask my brother out and failed to mention that it was fake?”

James nods miserably. “I thought you had told him about the plan... I thought he knew...”

Sirius huffs angrily and the mood in the room instantly flips. James isn’t sure if the space between them is physically growing larger, if Sirius shifted away from him, or if it just feels like it because of the sudden coldness seeping into him. “Fuck’s sake, James, you know that Regulus would have said no on principle had I suggested it, just to piss me off. I thought I made it clear that I needed you to ask him because if I asked he’d refuse out of principle. The entire plan relied on you convincing him because he would have never listened to me. I thought you convinced him to fake date you!”

“I thought so too!” James exclaims, finally looking up again. He can’t properly see Sirius’ expression, but reaching over for his glasses now seems wrong, somehow makes him feel like he’s backing down or giving up, so he just scowls at the blurry Sirius next to him. “I thought we were on the same page! I never not talked about fake dating Reg, I am so sure that I told him I’m asking him out for your sake and I was convinced you told him about it beforehand! How was I supposed to know he thought it was all real?”

“You could have fucking talked to him?”

James groans in frustration. “I thought I did, Sirius. You think I am happy with this situation right now? I didn’t want him to think it was real! I wanted us to fake date in the beginning and I wanted us to properly date now, but I’ve apparently done the latter since the beginning but ruined my chance of doing it while being aware that’s what I’m doing now. And I tried to explain it, but Regulus doesn’t want to listen to me or– or doesn’t care and I don’t know what to do, I don’t know– Fuck!” he chokes out, tears rising in the back of his throat. “I just don’t know!”

“No,” Sirius says and scrambles out of bed. The coldness seeps deeper into James’ bones. “No, I’m sorry, I love you Prongs, but you don’t get to be hurt over this. This is absolutely your fault and you need to fix it and–”

“I’ve tried!” James interrupts him, voice rough. “I’ve tried to fix it, but Regulus doesn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore!”

“Which is his full fucking right,” Sirius snaps. “Sort yourself out, get a fucking grip, Prongs. I’m going home and I’m going to check in on my brother and when you can admit that this is your fault without finding excuses and then figure out how to do this right you can talk to me again.”

“I know it’s my fault!” James shouts, but Sirius is already leaving. “I know I fucked up, I’m not trying to find excuses, I’m just trying to figure out what went wrong!” And still Sirius doesn’t wait. Just like his brother, he doesn’t want to listen to James. With more force than necessary he throws the door shut after himself and leaves James more alone than he was before.

He wants to hate Sirius in this moment. Maybe he does. Hates him for dragging him into this entire dilemma. Hates him for picking Regulus’ side, despite saying he wouldn’t be able to pick sides. Hates him for leaving.

He wants to hate Regulus too, a little. For stealing James’ heart and then ensuring that James breaks it himself.

But really, mostly James hates himself.

It takes James two days to leave his room for more than just eating and going to the bathroom. His parents inquire about what has him hiding away so much and who he got in a fight with and scold him for his bruised cheekbone. James gives them more or less the truth, namely that Evan punched him because Regulus and him broke up and that Sirius, for that same reason, currently doesn’t have time for James because he has to look after Regulus. Which James fully supports. He does. He also misses Sirius, though.

His parents leave him alone for the most part, mainly because when Fleamont tries to look after him James properly snaps and shouts at him that he’s not a child anymore and doesn’t need to be coddled. He doesn’t feel proud of that, but he really can’t stand being taken care of at the moment. Not like that. He needs Sirius, needs him to distract him and make fun of James and complain about how stupid James is for falling in love with his best friend’s little brother. He needs him to be there for James. He doesn’t want to be treated like a broken thing that needs mending, when he is the main reason for why he’s broken in the first place. He just wants the company and the normalcy.

On Sunday his parents finally put their foot down.

“I know you’re currently heartbroken and missing Sirius, but moping around in your room for all eternity won’t help, wee Flea. Your father has the tickets, and you’re going to join him for the game.”

And James would have probably argued more, probably would have locked himself back in his room, but it is the match between the Montrose Magpies and the Caerphilly Catapults. And they are not only currently some of the best teams in the league, but also just so happen to be Regulus’ and his favourite teams respectively. And James isn’t sure if it’s some kind of self-torture he’s trying to do, or if he is just delusional enough to hope that Regulus will be at the match as well and talk to him again, but either way, on Sunday morning at eleven he finds himself in the south of Wales, sitting high on the stands overlooking the Catapults’ Quidditch stadium.

James lets his eyes travel across the crowd filling the ranks, looking for soft, dark curls. The sheer amount of people makes it difficult to decide with certainty that Regulus is present or absent, so James keeps searching and searching, almost missing the entrance of the two opposing Quidditch teams. However, amidst the loud cheering breaking out all around him, he cannot help but drag his attention back to the real reason he is here today.

(Or rather, what he should consider to be the real reason.)

The Magpies, clad nearly completely in black, save the white shirt under their cloaks and the magpie adorning their back and front, simply walk towards the middle of the field, waiting for their opponents to arrive. James gets why they are Regulus’ favourite team. Their entire appearance bares the same collected calculations Regulus likes to present to the world with a very effective, quick and precise no nonsense gameplay that, justly, has won them the most games of any of the British teams. On top of that, they have the reputation of having the best Seekers of all teams in the League, so obviously Regulus is biased towards them. James thinks that, should Regulus ever decide to go professional, he’d probably end up playing for them.

The Catapults on the other hand are a lot more boastful in their demeanour. Instead of meeting the Magpies in the middle of the field, they follow up their entrance on the pitch by flying a big round along the stands, showing off their perfect formation, their red and green striped cloaks swishing behind them.

The symbolism is not lost on James.

It reminds him far too much of the first fake date by the sea (real date, he corrects his thoughts quietly. It all had been real dates without him knowing), when James had found the equally red and green striped stone on the beach. He wonders if Regulus still has it. Probably not, he thinks, if he kept it at all he most likely got rid of it after Wednesday night.

As soon as the start whistle is blown James is distracted. For the first time in days he’s not only thinking about Regulus, not only thinking about all the ways he unintentionally hurt him, not only focussed on his own shattered heart slicing up his lungs. For once, he actually lets himself get immersed in the play before him, quick and with brutal yet fair sportsmanship.

He knows why he loves the Catapults; daring in their every move, with some of the most beautiful Quaffle play James has ever seen. But he is not ignorant to the appeal of the Magpies either, at times even rooting for them just for how elegantly they manoeuvre through the air and seem to predict nearly every move of the Catapults, no matter how audacious and bold.

(Ridiculously reckless and senselessly stupid, Regulus always insisted when they talked about it. James would then of course jump to their defence and point out that it wasn’t senseless or stupid, considering it worked most of the time. A strategy that brought the team victory could hardly be called stupid. Regulus usually just rolled his eyes at that, because of course James would say that.)

The game lasts longer than the one James had seen with Regulus for their very first fake date.

Date.

In the end it is the Magpies’ Seeker that catches the Snitch, not even two inches off the ground, and gets her team the victory against the Catapults by forty points. James can live with that. The Catapults played wonderfully, and if they win enough games against the remaining teams they would still make it into the upper bracket, and the Magpies very much deserve this victory.

“An excellent game,” Fleamont says on his way out of the stadium, but James barely hears him. Because there, two rows below him, a familiar figure is following the flow of the departing crowd.

“Sorry,” James mutters, “I’ll meet you outside by the bicycle racks in a minute,” and without waiting for his father’s reply he climbs over the lower seats to follow where Regulus is going.

He pushes past people, mumbling excuses left and right but mainly ignoring the fact that he is inconveniencing anyone. “Reg!” he calls when there’s only a handful more people between them. “Regulus!”

Regulus glances back at that, frowning. He spots James and for a moment their eyes lock, something nearing hope passing between them, but then Regulus scowls, turns back around and ducks into the crowd.

James never considered Regulus’ talent of disappearing. Sure, he is a lot smaller than James which makes it a lot better to hide between people, but James doesn’t think Mary or even Lily could manage to turn nearly invisible quite as easily. Without using a charm that is. Every time James blinks Regulus is gone and the only reason he can spot him again is because at some point James’ brain got rewired to instantly pick out Regulus in any place. 

And still, Regulus is better at disappearing than James is at finding him, so the next time James blinks he cannot find any trace of him anymore. 

Eventually he has to admit defeat, assuming that Regulus probably already left for London once more, and leaves the stadium in search of his father instead.

James still isn’t willing to give up, though. He is probably being a bit too relentless about this, but Sirius did tell him to fix it and, well, James wants to fix it. And leaving it all completely alone won’t help that at all, so really does he have a choice? Plus, he adds for himself, can anyone blame him? He is head over heels in love with Regulus and Regulus told him he likes him, too. Had wanted to date him for several weeks already, and had the conversation at Evan’s not gone so terribly bad would have dated him for however much longer. So not at least trying to still fix what him and Regulus could have seems like the biggest mistake James could possibly make in his life. And there are many mistakes one James Fleamont Potter can make. This, however, is not one he is willing to go through with.

Which is why James, the very next day, tries to find Regulus a second time.

All he had planned to do was go to Grimmauld Place to ask to talk to Regulus. Or maybe at least Sirius. (Although, for the latter he had to do the former first, as Sirius had made clear. Then again, knowing Sirius he’d talk to James again soon enough all of his own free will, because they could never stay away from each other for long. Still, James wants to deserve it. Wants to right all his wrongs first.)

The thing is, going past Regulus’ fancy bookshop isn’t that much of a detour from the Leaky Cauldron all the way to Islington, so James thinks fuck it, and decides to come past there as well. Good thing, too, because no sooner has he stepped foot into the shop does he see dark curls and a steely glare pointed at the poor girl behind the till.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I’m telling you, these are the Jules Verne special editions, we can’t take them back or exchange them.”

Regulus looks furious, more angry at the stack of books – the one on top looking vaguely familiar, a red cover with a hot air balloon on the front – than at the girl. James is glad; the girl already looks like she’d rather cry. Getting the full of an angry Black glare would probably be too much for her.

“Come on, Reggie. If you really want to get rid of them so badly you can donate them to some charity shop or something.” It’s only when he puts a hand on Regulus’ shoulder that James even notices Barty standing in the bookshop behind Regulus. James scowls at him, but seeing as neither Barty nor Regulus have yet noticed his presence, his scowl loses all its satisfying effect of pissing off Barty (or at least letting him know that James is very much pissed off by him).

“Fine,” Regulus snaps and picks the books back up from the counter, turning to go.

Which is of course when he spots James and instantly freezes in his movement.

For a moment Regulus just stares at him. Looks like he’s not entirely sure James is real as he clutches his stack of books more closely to his chest.

While James had absolutely planned to talk to Regulus today, he had actually not made a plan for what he would talk to Regulus about. So now, that his plan came about sooner than he had anticipated, James also just stands on the spot frozen for a couple seconds. Finally he pulls himself together and says, giving a small awkward wave of his hand, “Hi.” Not his best, admittedly, but Regulus’ presence somehow makes James lose even his remaining braincell along with his composure.

“What are you doing here?” Regulus hisses. Which, quite honestly, is more than James expected to get from him today.

“Uh,” he says, unsure and unprepared. “Books...”

“You don’t read.”

“I’ve been told they might have nice books with lots of pictures for three-year-olds here.”

James can see the exact moment Regulus realises James repeated his own words from their first date back at him. His expression shifts from slightly confused into a blank mask.

“Let’s go, Reg,” Barty says quietly, leaning closer over his shoulder. He still says it loud enough for James to hear, which he’s sure is on purpose.

Regulus nods tersely. Takes a step towards James. He’s about to pass him, so James tries a tentative “Reg...” and for a moment it looks like Regulus might actually reconsider and talk to him properly. But then all he does is take his stack of books and thrusts it at James.

“What–” In his surprise James simply accepts them, wraps his arms around the books and cradles them to his chest.

“I got them for you,” Regulus says tersely. “Keep them or throw them away, I don’t care. I just don’t want to have to look at them anymore.”

James looks at Regulus with huge eyes, wants to say something. Anything. Tell him thank you, tell him he misses him, tell him sorry, tell him he wants to fix things. But all that comes out is a soft “Oh,” and then Regulus is already out of the shop.

James wants to follow him, but he barely makes one step when a hand pulls him back sharply. “Don’t you dare,” Barty hisses and pulls him deeper into the bookshop by the back of his shirt. Any other day James would have easily wrought himself out of Barty’s grip. Like Regulus, Barty is a book guy. Unlike Regulus he doesn’t even play any sports so James has every advantage over him when it comes to agility and strength. Barty, however, does have the advantage of surprise with the added bonus of a starstruck James who is still longingly looking after the star that struck him, so he easily manoeuvrers James into a side room of the book shop littered with travel guides.

“Shouldn’t you be going after Regulus?” James asks.

“He’ll be happier that I stopped you from going after him.”

James frowns and hugs his newly gained books tighter.

“Let me tell you something, Potter,” Barty drawls. “I have never disliked anyone more than I do you currently.”

The words send a sharp stab right through James’ chest. He doesn’t know how to not be liked. He has an intense need to be liked by every single person he’ll ever encounter. Or, at least if not liked, then he needs to be admired in some twisted, spiteful way, so he knows he’s doing something right. “Doubt you’re the only one who thinks so at the moment,” James mumbles, thinking with a sinking heart of Regulus and Sirius and probably all of Regulus’ friends as well.

Barty ignores his comment and keeps talking. “You know, funnily enough, when you first asked Regulus out he was convinced it was a prank. Because why would perfect, wonderful James Potter ever like someone like him? Why would you suddenly ask him out, after he’s been crushing on you for forever?” 

“I didn’t know he was–”

Barty snorts. “You were too busy mooning after Evans to even notice Regulus’ existence, of course you didn’t know.”

“Regulus could have said something…”

“Aren’t you listening, Potter? Or are you really just that stupid? He didn’t think you’d ever like him. Ever. Didn’t make sense to him. And disappointing his parents who don’t want him to date, especially not a bloody Potter, because they want him to focus on his studies instead... Disappointing them for a useless cause of confessing his unrequited feelings to you isn’t really a desirable goal now, is it.” 

“They’re not unrequited…” 

“Oh fuck off, will you? They were. No reason to pretend otherwise.” 

James presses his lips together. Barty isn’t wrong, but James does not like admitting as much. 

“You asked him out and Reg panicked and told all his heartache stories to Evan and Dorcas and me and honestly, it was extremely satisfying talking about how much of a dick you are for pulling that crap. Dorcas was the only one who insisted you wouldn’t ask someone out for a prank, because her girlfriend wouldn’t shut up about how great of a guy you are. She tried to convince Regulus to agree to dating you. She feels real stupid about that now and I don’t even get the satisfaction of telling her I told you so because Regulus is fucking heartbroken thanks to your self-absorbed fucking arse.” 

James doesn’t have the heart to tell him that nothing of what he did was for any selfish reasons. He asked Regulus out to do Sirius a favour. He tried to make every single one of their fake dates enjoyable for Regulus because he wanted to still make sure he would have a nice time, despite having to begrudgingly date James. Nothing of this had ever been for James’ own selfish gains. 

“Why did he agree?” James asks quietly. “I thought he just wanted to help out Sirius as well, but I realise now that’s obviously not what happened. So what made him think I did mean it? Why did he agree in the end?” 

“Because he fancies you and you kept fucking asking,” Barty huffs. “Eventually convinced all of us that you meant it. He wouldn’t have agreed if you hadn’t bought his stupid poetry book–”

“I liked his poetry book…” 

“Yeah, that. Exactly that’s what convinced him.” Barty says jabbing his finger at James’ chest and he sounds immeasurably angry about it. “You were being so fucking nice about it and asked about his favourite poems and he was having half a meltdown when he told us about it. Didn't stop him from being extremely exasperated by how little you know about poetry and English spelling, though. And I guess here it’s partly my fault because man, I really did think maybe Dorcas has a point. I mean who in their right mind would read poems for the bit? So I helped her convince him to give you a shot and see how the date would go and it went well and it kept going well. Because you’re apparently such a wonderful, perfect guy who had to get everything exactly right for Reggie. Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself, Potter, you really convinced all of us that you wanted to date him.” 

“Barty,” James says, who’s never felt less proud of himself in his life, “I really didn’t know that Regulus didn’t know it was supposed to be fake. Had I known Regulus had a crush on me I would have never agreed to Sirius’ stupid plan. I thought we were on the same page until I realised I’m, well…” he swallows thickly, looking around the bookshop before continuing, his voice lowered along with his gaze, “I love him. And I wanted to ask him out properly but he beat me to it by breaking up with me properly. You know how shit it feels being broken up with without realising you were even dating in the first place?” 

“Probably not as shit as realising your boyfriend of nearly two months wasn’t actually your boyfriend at all,” Barty snaps back. 

“How was I supposed to know?” If it wasn’t for the books in his arms James would throw his hands up in frustration. “How was I supposed to know he thought it’s real? Everyone keeps blaming me for this but I don’t understand what I was supposed to do differently! It’s not like I purposefully kept the truth from Regulus. The way I had understood it Sirius and Regulus had talked about the plan, I was just there for extra convincing. The first time I asked him out I am absolutely bloody certain I told him I’m doing it for Sirius. There is no way I went on dozens of dates with him and never mentioned this being a scheme to ensure Sirius gets to date Remus. There just isn’t. So yeah, maybe I communicated this badly but so did he! So did Sirius!"

Barty looks like he wants to say something, but James doesn’t let him. The thoughts had been growing in his mind for the past couple days and he won’t let Barty stop him now that he finally gets to say them.

“Yes, I messed up in assuming Regulus knew about the plan, but Sirius messed up in assuming I knew it was supposed to be mine instead of his job to tell him. And– And Regulus? I didn’t even know he fancied me until Evan told me so! Aren’t you supposed to tell people you date something like that? Heck, for the first couple weeks after we started this thing I was still convinced he hated me and just went along with it to do Sirius a favour, you can’t tell me that’s good communication on his side either! And yet everyone keeps acting as if every single thing that went wrong I somehow did on purpose with some hidden malicious intent or something. But– but for Merlin’s sake, Barty, come on, please!” James takes a deep breath, does his best to calm his voice ever so slightly before continuing. “I know I messed up on very many points, but this isn’t all my fault and I don’t know how to fix this if apologising for the things I did wrong and taking blame for the things I didn’t do wrong isn’t enough. I fake dated my way into being in love and I regret all of the miscommunication and missed communication, but it happened. And in a way I’m glad the fake dating happened, ‘cause otherwise I would have never realised I’m in love with Regulus. I just regret that we were not on the same page about all of this. And now that we are I just want to know how to bloody fix it because from how I understand it Reg still fancies me and I more than just fancy him so why can’t we just bloody date for real?”

Barty looks at him for a long while after that, searching his face for traces of a lie. If he knew him any better, he wouldn’t have to look for so long. James has never been great at lying, even less so when it is about emotions. He’s been despairing over Operation This Was A Terribleidea for long enough that he couldn’t even lie about it if he wanted to, the truth being such an uncomfortable constant banging on in his head, James has no idea how to think about it in anything but truths.

Barty seems to come to the same conclusion eventually. Something passes on his face, defeat or exasperation or maybe some kind of relief, James can’t exactly tell, because a moment later he draws his eyebrows together and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Give him three more days. He’s a Black, he needs his time of wallowing in his self-pity and dramatics for a bit.”

James blinks at Barty in surprised confusion. Is he trying to help him out here? “Are you trying to help me out here?” James asks out loud as well because this is one question he desperately needs an answer to.

Barty glares at him. “I want Regulus to be happy. He’s currently not, so something has to change. So you better make sure that happens.”

James nods quickly. “Was my plan all along anyway...” But he is glad Barty is at least on his side now. That has to mean he couldn’t have messed this up irreparably.

Barty turns to leave, but hesitates for a moment before turning back to James. “If you fuck this up I will kill you,” he says earnestly and James doesn’t doubt it for a second.

“If I fuck this up,” James replies, “I’ll be glad if you do.”

James uses the next three days to start reading the books Regulus got for him and finds that he enjoys them quite a lot. They’re fascinating and funny and when James, at the end of a page, realises he hasn’t taken in a single word that’s also fine because somehow the plot still makes sense. It makes reading a lot easier than he is used to, because he isn’t forced to reread the same sentence sixteen times to finally absorb the words. He can just enjoy the story. It makes him feel incredibly warm inside that Regulus, just from the handful of books James keeps in his room and the few weeks of time they spent together, managed to pick out this perfectly what he’d enjoy reading.

He also writes a letter to Sirius. Asking him how he’s doing, updating him on what happened and his plan of coming by Grimmauld Place after the three days have passed, and telling him that he misses him terribly. 

Sirius writes back almost immediately, which relieves James more than he could have possibly imagined. He tells him he is rather lonely and loves and misses James at least as much, but needs a little longer to be angry at him, because Regulus needs that support. James doesn’t entirely understand that sentiment, but he supposes he simply wouldn’t know, not having grown up with a younger brother. He’s just glad that through it all him and Sirius are still okay.

He writes one more letter. Or rather he writes, not quite a letter, but words and lines, and wraps it up in the prettiest wrapping paper he can find (it’s for the winter holidays, black with lots of tiny white stars and snowflakes, but when James squints a little the snowflakes look like stars as well, which seems rather fitting). This one he doesn’t send. He puts it in his backpack and waits for the third day to pass. 

When finally, after waiting and reading and writing for three days, he knocks on the door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, he is prepared for nothing at all but anything to happen. He waits, as the sun is setting somewhere behind him. Or rather he thinks it is. Judging the exact location of the sun turns out to be a near impossible task as there is not a single speck of sky visible that’s not clad in thick grey clouds.

When the door finally opens James is already joining the clouds in letting water drip down to the ground, which doesn’t help improve his mood when he sees it’s Kreacher looking up at him. 

“Hello,” James says, “I’m here to t–” but he doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before the door falls shut again. James lets out an exhausted sigh, really not in the mood for having to deal with a spiteful house-elf, when the door gets pulled open again.

James, who by now is properly drenched and is still staring down at the spot where Kreacher had been seconds ago, is met with the sight of a long, black velvet skirt that seems far too warm for the current season. Quickly he lets his eyes snap up to meet the judging gaze of Walburga Black.

“Good evening,” James says, trying his best to give his voice a pleasant ring to it while inwardly cursing out Walburga’s name.

“James Potter,” she says, making no attempt of hiding her disdain. James has never heard his name sound more like something disgusting, dripping from her mouth like mud. “I must say I’m surprised to see you here. Considering your–” she pauses, gives him a derisive look over, before continuing with a sneer, “–relationship with my son is over.”

“I consider it to be not worth giving up on yet. Besides, you have two sons, and the second one is still my best friend.”

“We will see about that.”

“I’m happy to prove you wrong,” James says coldly. “If you call for them I’ll gladly do it right now.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“You know, I don’t actually really care what you think?” He’s being rude, he knows that, but he’s uncomfortably wet and Walburga is somehow incredibly good at irritating him without doing anything at all. “I need to talk to Regulus. And Sirius.”

“Very well, I think they can stand to hear this, too,” Walburga says and the way she smiles at James, thin lips and cold eyes, make James regret his request almost immediately. “Regulus! Sirius!” she shouts, just like last time not even bothering to turn away from James, who can’t keep in the wince at her quite honestly impressive volume.

“I knew your … fling with my son would not last,” Walburga continues, her previous shout still reverberating in the high hall behind her. The fact that she keeps talking as if she only has one son makes cold fury burn inside James’ chest. Through his fuming about what a terrible mother Walburga Black is and how badly he wants to just kidnap Sirius and preferably Regulus as well, stuff them in his room and cook them nice food and tell them what wonderful people they are at least four times a day, he tries to listen to doors opening somewhere in the house, waiting for Regulus and Sirius to leave their rooms.

The sound of an opening door never happens, the sound of footsteps coming down stairs, however, does. James can’t put into words how nervous he is about seeing both Black brothers, but especially Regulus, again.

Regulus comes down first. He looks at least as uncertain as James feels, eyeing the scene at the front door with mistrust all the while avoiding looking at James directly. James tries not to let this get to him. It nearly works.

To make it easier on Regulus, he looks away from him and back to Walburga, who keeps talking once her son has come to a halt a couple of steps behind her. “I know you and Sirius thought you could fool me,” she resumes her speech, still directed at James, “but I am not as gullible as you seem to think. Your timing of taking out my son was far too convenient to have been anything but a ploy to get Sirius to date his disgusting Halfblood of a boyfriend again.”

James grits his teeth. He’s so close to snapping and hexing her right on her doorstep. He is kind of grateful Sirius isn’t here yet, he doesn’t think this comment would have gone over well with him.

As if reading James’ thoughts, Walburga purses her lips, then shouts again, “Sirius Orion Black!” and James is once more startled into a wince. Somewhere from the depths of the house the noise of a door opening sounds downwards, closely followed by it being thrown shut with considerably more force than necessary. The ensuing thumping footsteps, presumably skipping every second step of the long stairs, make James squint hopefully through his rain-splattered glasses past Walburga.

“Mother,” Regulus says quietly, and James’ attention is immediately on him. “It’s raining.”

“I am aware, Regulus,” Walburga says, wrinkling her nose.

Regulus hesitates, sending a look between the back of his mother’s head and some point somewhere on James’ right shoulder, still not properly looking at him. It makes something tingle in James’ chest.

Regulus gets spared having to decide whether or not he actually wants to help James out by speaking up to his mother when Sirius finally joins them, screeching to a halt when he spots James. “Fucking hell, can’t you at least let him in? It’s pouring outside,” Sirius says in lieu of a greeting and James’ heart grows considerably warmer.

“That is not my problem,” Walburga says shortly. “If he had wanted to stay dry he could have brought an umbrella, or better yet, not come here.”

James shrugs, long ago having come to terms with the fact that he’ll live in soggy shoes and his shirt melting onto his body like a second skin, and sends a smile towards Sirius, along with a silently mouthed ‘Hey’.

Sirius returns it with a quick smile of his own before turning back to Walburga. “So why have you gathered us all here while you’re interrogating my very rained on best friend?”

James flashes a smug grin to Walburga upon being called Sirius’ best friend by Sirius himself, only minutes after Walburga doubted him. She regards him with a cold, yet pitying look which James doesn’t let deter him. He’s not seen Sirius in far too long, and this reunion, even if under dreadful circumstances and in one of the worst spots in London, does fill him with endless joy.

“I do have to admit you managed to impress me a little with your ability to manage to get around the outer layer of my magic,” Walburga says instead of answering Sirius’ question. James’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise, not having expected praise in any form whatsoever from her. “Did you force yourself into believing you were going on dates or did you merely lie to Regulus and let him believe as much?”

James flinches slightly. “What?” he asks taken aback, his eyes guiltily travelling to Regulus all on their own accord. He is resolutely still not looking at James, although James is certain he can see the slightest hint of hurt hiding in the tightening muscles of his jaw.

“Oh, Potter, you can’t seriously believe I thought for even a second any of this was real?” Walburga says with a patronising smile that sends shivers down James’ back. It feels about as soothing as boxers made out of sandpaper. “I’m disappointed in Regulus, however, how willingly he went along with all of it. I really expected more of him, I thought he would learn from Sirius’ mistakes.”

“Sirius hasn’t made any mistakes,” James snaps. “And there’s nothing that’s disappointing about Regulus.”

“James,” Sirius says quietly. It’s a warning, he knows it is, knows he’s being too outspoken in front of Walburga, knows it might have worse consequences on the people he’s trying to defend than himself. So he grits his teeth and tries to reign himself back in before Walburga continues to talk.

“And what a disappointment he is. Letting himself be defiled by a blood traitor, a Potter,” she practically spits out his name, “is about as disappointing as it can get. I never expected a son of mine to act like that. I thought the photos he took of you in your skimpy little swimming outfit that Sirius showed me were bad enough–”

“Sirius?” Regulus asks, no longer in a near whisper, the utter surprise and confusion weighing down his voice. “Sirius showed you the photos?”

With a cruel smile Walburga turns to her sons. “He laid them out for me to find, isn’t that right, Sirius?”

At the look of betrayal Regulus throws him Sirius blanches and stammers, “I– I didn’t know. I thought you two took the photos to convince her, I thought you just forgot about them...”

James has the terrifying realisation then that that night when Regulus stayed over at his, exhaustion having drained him to the point of falling asleep in an unfamiliar bed, that he had caused this. Had been responsible for it at least partially. He had told Sirius about the photos, and Sirius had found them and made sure Walburga would, too, and Walburga had taken Regulus apart for it.

“You could have talked to me about it first,” Regulus snaps. “Or at least admitted to it afterwards.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot about it, it wasn’t important anymore...” Sirius admits meekly.

The hands on Regulus’ sides tighten into fists. “It was important to me. I wanted to keep them for myself and instead I was forced to burn them!”

“Now now, Regulus, that doesn’t matter anymore now, does it?” Walburga says sweetly and it takes everything inside of James not to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze.

Regulus snaps his mouth shut and lowers his eyes to the floor again. James hates how small he looks like this, all of his usual bite having been sucked out of him.

“And then he came home with a neck full of bruises in a pathetic attempt to convince me of a relationship I knew to be fake from the very beginning,” Walburga tuts. “I have never been more disappointed in you than when you let yourself get defiled like that by someone like him for something that was always going to end sooner or later.”

Regulus looks like he is close to crying, the only reason tears not spilling over his eyes sheer will power of not wanting to seem weak. James wants to say something, but anything he can think of would probably only make the situation worse. He looks at Sirius, pleading him to help in any way he can.

“You had no reason to believe it would end,” Sirius says, and it’s entirely not the helpful comment James had hoped for. Sirius is displeased with his words as well, by the way he presses his lips together in frustration afterwards.

“Oh please,” Walburga says, “besides the fact that I raised Regulus to be smarter than to fall for a Potter–” James doesn’t miss the way Regulus flinches at that, his cheeks darkening ever so slightly, “Had this been a real relationship, I could have done nothing to stop you from running off with whatever scum you want to.”

Sirius and James exchange a confused look, but it’s Regulus who speaks the word they’re all thinking, a small, confused, “What?”

“I thought you would have been smart enough to understand the magic.” Walburga sighs disappointedly. “Sirius can go on a date whenever you do. But unless you date and have a real relationship, Sirius can’t date anyone either.”

James stares at her in bewilderment. The conversation he had with Sirius all those weeks ago, when he first explained the plan to him, suddenly comes back to mind. I need you to take Regulus out on a date. Which is not the same as dating him, because dating requires continued taking out on dates and I think one should be more than enough. Also dating kind of includes feelings and I’d rather you stay away from feelings in regard to my brother.

“There was never a need for me to reverse the spell. You made it far too obvious that all of this was a pathetic attempt to trick me. Had Regulus actually been in a real relationship, the magic would have broken all by itself. All magic has its limits, and this spell only lasts as long as the leverage is not lost. Only for as long as Regulus is smart enough not to waste his time with such nonsensical things as dating.” She turns to leave, but halts for a moment longer to speak directly to Regulus. It’s the first time that evening something like a genuine smile is playing around her lips. “I knew I could trust you to follow my instructions in this regard at least. You know better than to fall in love.”

They all stay silent for a while after that. After Walburga’s left. The only noise left the rain still heavily falling down on James, although at this point he can barely feel it anymore.

James finally breaks the silence first.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Rushed. Uncertain. He feels awkward talking to Regulus with Sirius standing there, but at the same time is thankful he is. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, definitely not right now, certainly not after all of these new revelations, but I still need to say it. And I–” he nervously fiddles with the strings of his backpack before biting his lips harshly and pulling it off his back resolutely. “I have something for you and... I don’t know. I think I’d like if you would look at it sometime...” he trails off awkwardly.

Sirius is watching him curiously, Regulus slightly mistrustful, as James pulls the zip of his backpack open, reaching to the very bottom. He’s thankful for the thick fabric having held off most of the rain, the star-speckled wrapping paper only slightly damp when he holds the little package uncertainly out to Regulus, not daring to actually step foot inside the house.

Regulus just stares at it. He makes no attempt to move, just keeps his eyes locked on the little stars, silently and motionless.

The more time passes the more uncomfortable James feels, standing there in the rain, his arms stretched out, holding a present towards his ex fake-but-also-real-boyfriend. But he’s waited too long, has let too much time pass to not make it even weirder to lower his hand again, so he keeps his hand stretched out even though Regulus doesn’t look like he’s planning to move any closer to James.  

In the end Sirius takes pity on him, stepping forward with a sigh and taking the package from James. “I’ll come by soon,” he promises quietly. “I think I also have some apologising to do as well. I’ll start here, though–” he gives a small nod towards Regulus, “–I hope you don’t mind.”

James nods in reply, his voice suddenly stuck in his throat, but Sirius gets the general message anyway. Thank you. I love you. I miss you. I hope we can fix this.

Sirius squeezes his shoulder gently before taking the two steps back to his brother to hand him the present.

“Get home safely,” Sirius says softly.

James smiles at him meekly. “I really am sorry,” he says once more before turning on his heel and walking down the three steps in front of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, his shoes making uncomfortable squelching sounds with every step he takes further away from the two people he wants to be closest to at the moment.

Chapter Text

10 - Not even at all

When James wakes up in the middle of the night he is disoriented and confused and needs far too long to register the knocking on his door. “Huh?” he asks, that being all the words he manages to get out, but it seems to be enough as the door opens and someone enters his room.

James reaches for his nightstand, turning on a lamp and fumbling for his glasses. Blinking into the light he squints towards the door to find Sirius tentatively coming over to his bed. James’ confusions only grows and he is starting to doubt that he is actually awake. “You real?” he asks, his voice still heavy with sleep.

Sirius smiles at him. “I’m real,” he confirms.

“D’you break in in the middle of the night?”

“It can hardly be called breaking in,” he says, holding up something silver and shiny. “You did give me a key.”

“Hm... I did...” James yawns, then scoots over on his bed and pats the mattress next to himself. An invite that Sirius instantly takes, sitting down, his legs crossed and his hands folded in his lap.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you,” Sirius says. “Or, well, I did, but I do feel a bit bad about it.”

James shrugs and yawns again, still very much in the process of waking up and trying to figure out what’s going on.

“I had a really long conversation with Reggie right after you left,” Sirius starts his explanation. “It took me far too long but I realised I also had a lot to apologise to him for. It was my idea, after all... And I failed to read so many signs in the process and got him in trouble with mother which he didn’t sign up for, I just never expected it to be about something he cares about... And the longer we talked the more I felt the need to also talk to you as soon as possible so I came here right afterwards.”

“Okay,” James says. He could say that’s fine or I’m glad but he isn’t yet entirely sure if either of those is the case. He loves Sirius and is glad more than anything that he’s once again in his bed for nightly conversations, but James is also still a little angry with him. Underneath all those layers of love and adoration and absolute trust and forgiveness he has for Sirius, there is still that spark of anger and the feeling that he got treated a little unfairly in how this entire plan of theirs – of Sirius’ – went down.

“I also need to apologise to you,” Sirius says. “Our communication was shit, and that’s on both of us, but it was my plan and I expected too much of you. I expected you to understand it all and I expected you to carry out most of it on your own. Well, with Reggie, but that obviously failed... I think I had too much faith in our blind understanding of each other. Usually I can read your mind better than my own and that’s cool and all, but I guess I shouldn’t put my whole trust in it always working, especially not when that can lead to things going as badly as this did.”

James mulls this over for a second. Then he nods. “Same for me, really. I thought you talked to Reg about it because it just made sense to me that you would, and what makes sense to me makes sense to you so obviously you must have. T’was a mistake and I’m really sorry.”

“I know. Me too,” Sirius says and shuffles closer to James. He unfolds his hands and reaches out towards James, hesitates, then drops them on the bed between them. He looks unsure of himself, unsure if he’s allowed to touch James, which breaks James’ heart a little, so he closes the distance between them himself. Scoots closer, leans against Sirius’ side and takes his hand in his.

“I’m also really sorry for putting all the blame on you,” Sirius continues with a gentle squeeze of James’ hand. “It was a very in-the-moment reaction because Reggie’s my brother, and I have to protect him and he was hurt over you. But I mean, you were also hurt. And I don’t think I really helped with that...”

James huffs out a small laugh. “Not quite. I felt rather miserable without you. Especially because you shouted at me right before leaving,” he admits.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says. “I really am. I was terrible to you. I was so focussed on fixing my own problems, of getting to see Moony, that I didn’t pay enough attention to you or Regulus in the process to make sure my meddling in your life didn’t meddle it up too much. I messed up on that part and I really am so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” James replies, and this time he knows he means it.

When he falls asleep again a while later, it’s with his arms suffocatingly wrapped around Sirius’ torso and Sirius’ elbow in his peacefully smiling face.

Everything in James wants to go back to Grimmauld Place and try to talk to Regulus again, but he knows he can’t do that. The last time he went there he gave Regulus an apology and a reason to come and look for James again himself once he’s ready. All James can do now is wait and see if that moment ever comes. James played his parts, gave all of himself to Regulus, and now it is Regulus’ choice to either accept it or move on completely.

Sirius can’t stay with him forever and ever, to his dismay. Eventually he has to go back to his own life, the part that doesn’t have all that much to do with James, which unfortunately leaves James with too much alone time to pine after Regulus. It gets so bad that eventually he has to either physically restrict himself, or physically busy himself enough that he doesn’t get the chance to decide taking a trip down to London might not hurt after all. And since he’s not good with physical restriction the choice is rather easy to make and James, as on so many days during the summer, grabs his broom and makes his way to the forest behind his hometown to practice some flying drills.

He somewhat neglected his workout sessions over the last couple days, too busy wallowing in his own misery to do as fun things as getting on his broom or going for a run. The moment he takes off he can feel it, too, his abs complaining a bit more than they should for the easy exercises he usually starts with. And still, it feels as natural as breathing to him, and when he leaves the ground behind to fly a couple speed rounds along the tree line he can practically feel his worries one by one falling off him, getting tangled in the wind and swept away.

When he lands again several hours later he is sore and sweaty but so much happier than he had been before he got on his broom that morning.

“You got faster.”

James whips around at the sound of the voice coming from behind him, fast enough to make his neck crack painfully.

Regulus is standing right at the edge of the forest, his arms protectively crossed in front of his chest. His hair is falling down in slightly less orderly curls than usual and he’s wearing an oversized hoodie, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks both incredibly cosy and incredibly uncomfortable.

“Regulus,” James breathes out, rubbing his neck. If anyone asked it’s purely to rub away the pain, and not because the idea of Regulus having watched him flying makes him very flustered. “What are you– Why...”

“I looked at your present,” Regulus says. He uncrosses his arms and from the pocket of his hoodie pulls out the book which, a couple days ago, James had wrapped in snowflakes and stars. It’s a small, dark green book, the very same book that Regulus had scoffed at all those weeks ago, his favourite poems terribly translated.

“Oh,” James says. He hadn’t expected Regulus to look at it so soon. Even less to come looking for James so soon after. The situation overwhelms him now, him in his sweaty sports clothes, Regulus still several feet away. Talking over the distance feels odd, unfamiliar, but James isn’t sure if he’s allowed to come closer. It’s still Regulus’ turn to make his move so James stays put and waits.

Regulus flips the book over and over in his hand, looking at it conflicted. Finally he says, “Can we talk?”

James, of course, nods eagerly. “I– Do you– I think I should probably take a shower first, do you want to come to my room and wait there or...?”

Regulus shakes his head. “I’d rather talk here,” he says. “Go shower, I’ll wait.”

James takes a shaky breath and on his exhale says, “Okay. Thank you. I’ll hurry.”

Regulus pushes the book back into his hoodie pocket and pulls down his sleeves over his hands, fiddling with the hems. “Take your time, I’ll be here,” he promises.

Despite Regulus’ words James rushes back to his house, showers in record time and picks up the first clothes that he finds strewn across his floor which end up being just a different workout outfit consisting of soft, grey shorts and a crop top Peter got him as a joke two years ago for his birthday that James unironically loves in secret. He doesn’t even bother putting on shoes again before he runs back to his flying spot, his picnic blanket in hand trailing behind him like a cape. Regulus may have promised to wait, but still James is terrified that he’ll get there only to find that Regulus left again after all.

He hadn’t have worried. Regulus is still there. He’s still standing in the same spot, his arms once again crossed but his hands now tucked inside his rolled down sleeves. He looks on edge, posture proper and upright and full of tension.

“Hi,” James says out of breath when he skids to a halt in front of Regulus. “Uhm. Blanket?” he asks, little eloquently, and holds up said blanket to underline his question.

Regulus nods to James’ relief – it would have been rather awkward having to hold onto the picnic blanket for the remainder of their conversation had he denied him – and James spreads it out a couple feet away on a more even spot on the ground. He gives Regulus one more quizzical look, waiting for him to argue, but when he doesn’t James sits down on one side of the blanket, as far to the edge as he can to give Regulus the option to leave enough space between them.

Regulus mirrors him when he sits down a second later. The space between them feels unnatural and loaded and James would love nothing more than to cross it and touch Regulus. Hold his hand. Card his fingers through his hair. Kiss him. He does none of that, of course, only waits for Regulus to start the conversation, to say what he came here for.

Eventually, Regulus gingerly puts the book on the blanket between them. His eyes are still trained on it when he says, “You read all of it.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“I couldn’t read the original poems so I had to do with these.”

“But why?”

It takes a while before James can find an answer. It makes complete sense to him, why he would read them, would take the time to familiarise himself with this poetry book. But putting it into words makes it sound a bit pathetic. “You said they’re your favourite poems,” he settles on finally, “so they’re important.”

There’s a small frown appearing on Regulus’ forehead as he opens the book and starts flipping through the pages. Each one is filled with ink, underlined verses, words scribbled on the side, or little drawings here and there. He stops at a page nearly all the way at the back. James knows which one it is without having to look. He looks anyway, because looking at his own writing, the ten lines of messy handwriting underneath the printed poem on the top of the page, is a lot less terrifying than finding out how Regulus is reacting to it.

“You wrote a poem about me,” Regulus says.

“I know it’s not very good,” James mumbles. “I just–”

“Shut up,” Regulus interrupts him.

James shuts up.

“You wrote a poem about me,” Regulus says again.

This time James stays silent.

“Do you actually hate all of this?” he gestures to the page.

“I don’t,” James shakes his head. “I thought that was obvious...”

Regulus is still looking at the page, scanning the lines again, silently mouthing the words.

“Regulus,” James says softly. “I know I messed up a lot. I am so incredibly sorry for what I did. I wish I had known you liked me before I asked you out and failed to make it obvious it’s for Sirius’ sake. I also wish you would have told me you don’t despise me at some point afterwards, because for the longest time I was convinced you hated me and only spent time with me to do this favour for Sirius. I really didn’t know. I’m really sorry I hurt you through all of this... Parts of me kind of wants to get a Time-Turner and stop myself from agreeing to this stupid plan in the first place–”

“That’s not how Time-Turners work,” Regulus mumbles, instinctively correcting James. It makes him huff out a surprised laugh. He missed Regulus arguing with him.

“Yeah, I guess not...” James concedes. “But that’s not the point. The point is that I wish I could undo all of the crap I did and get a do over in which I don’t inevitably hurt you. But at the same time, had I known you fancied me, I wouldn’t have ever asked you to fake date me. And if I hadn’t asked you out I never would have realised how incredibly wonderful you are and would not have fallen for you. And I like being in love with you. I wouldn’t want to change that. I just don’t like being miserably in love with you.”

“What would you like?” Regulus asks quietly. He’s picking on the hem of his hoodie again. James thinks if he continues like that he will eventually pull the threads loose.

“I would like to be happily in love with you. I’d like to talk to you about Quidditch and poetry and my very messy room again. I’d like to go on dates with you. Just... you know, actual, mutually agreed upon real ones...”

“Then maybe you should ask me again.”

“What?” James asks taken aback.

Regulus finally looks up from the book. Looks at James, properly looks at him, without hiding behind a blank mask. Looks at him like he hasn’t since Barty’s birthday. “Maybe you should ask me out again,” he repeats.

James’ mouth forms a silent oh as he gazes at Regulus, completely captivated. It takes him several seconds to react, to swallow and collect his thoughts again. Finally, he clears his throat and says, his voice somehow still raspy, “Regulus, would you like to go on a date with me?”

There’s a smile forming in the corners of Regulus’ lips and James doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful. “Do you promise it would be a real one?”

“I promise it would be a real date.”

“Then yes,” Regulus says softly. “I’d like to go on a date with you.”

The smile that breaks out on James’ face is wide enough to hurt the muscles in his cheeks but when Regulus smiles back at him, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks, James could not care less.

“I do like you, by the way,” Regulus says an hour later. They’re still on the picnic blanket, James has opted for lying down to look at the passing clouds overhead, Regulus is again looking through the poetry book. They barely talked after James asked him out, and they haven’t yet closed the distance between each other any more. But the silence between them is slowly growing more and more comfortable. Warm and familiar, the way it used to be all those times in James’ bedroom.

James turns his head to look at Regulus. “Hm?”

“I like you. Fancy you. Have, you know... uhm, romantic feelings for you,” he blushes at that, not quite managing to meet James’ eyes. “Because you said you thought I hated you last time. I wanted to clarify that I don’t... It’s more the opposite, really. I just wanted to make sure there are not any more misunderstandings...”

James grins. “I figured as much. I do appreciate you telling me a lot, though. I also have... romantic feelings for you,” he adds with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Regulus snaps the book shut and swats with it at James. “You’re awful.”

“But you love me,” James laughs, trying to dodge the book.

The blush on Regulus’ cheeks only deepens. “Sod off,” he mumbles.

“Sorry, can’t, you already said you’d go out with me, you’re very much stuck with me now.”

“I take it back,” Regulus mutters darkly.

James’ smile falters a little. “Do you actually?” he asks carefully, trying to hide his uncertainty.

Regulus looks at him, his expression softening. “No, James, I don’t,” he promises. “I do very much want to go on a date with you.”

James lets out a relieved breath. “Oh. Okay. Good. I’m glad.”

“You’re an idiot,” Regulus says, but the fondness is clearly audible in his voice.

“An idiot you want to go out with,” James corrects.

Regulus nods. “It very much makes me question my own sanity, though.”

James is a lot more nervous about this date than all the other ones he has gone on so far. Objectively it doesn’t make much sense. He’s needed Regulus to like every single date so far, this isn’t any different. The stakes haven’t even really gone up either, just shifted slightly, because Sirius’ happiness depended on all the previous dates and Regulus’ willingness to continue them. He could have fucked up before (in different ways than he ended up doing), more so than he can now. And yet it doesn’t stop him from losing his bloody mind an hour before he is supposed to pick up Regulus. For a date. For a real, actual date with Regulus.

“Sirius, Sirius please, help me,” he groans into the two-way-mirror.

Sirius has the audacity to laugh at him.

“This isn’t funny! I can’t mess this up, I need this to be perfect!”

“Prongs, my love, you’ve gone on several dates with my brother before and he has never once complained about your choice of clothing, I don’t think he’s going to start now.”

“But what if this shirt is somehow inappropriate?”

Sirius gives him an unimpressed look. “It’s literally a white tee, mate. The only situation this could be inappropriate for was if you were taking him to a funeral.”

James looks up panicked. “So you’re saying it’s too boring? I can’t be boring on my first proper date with Regulus!”

Sirius groans and hides his face in his hands. “I’m going to hang up on you,” he threatens.

“No!” James yelps, “Please, Padfoot, I need you here!”

There’s a silent beat then Sirius sighs. “Give me three minutes, I’m coming over.”

In the end Sirius barely takes two before barging into James’ room. A good thing, too, because James is about to tear out his hair from anxiety and lack of Sirius-support. And Regulus said he likes his hair, so he cannot lose it.

“Alright, before we pick something out come here and give me a hug, you look like you need one,” Sirius says.

James doesn’t have to be told twice, wrapping Sirius in his arms and squeezing tight enough to make Sirius let out an umpf sound. It does make him feel better instantly. Sirius’ hugs have never failed him so far.

“I love you,” James mumbles into Sirius’ shoulder. He waits for the affirmative I love you too before he pulls back and waves at the mess behind himself in distress.

“Tell me what to do, Padfoot, please, I’m so lost.”

“You’re being way too dramatic with this,” Sirius says decisively, which is vaguely worrying considering it’s coming from Sirius of all people. “If it wasn’t my brother you’re taking out I’d say put on that white button up, you know, the silky one we got in Bath with Marls. But since you are taking out my brother and that top, objectively speaking, makes you look a bit too hot and practically begs to be taken off of you, I am absolutely not suggesting it.”

“I love you,” James groans relieved. “Thank you.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “My brother-safe suggestion is you wear that green shirt, the one with the fish, because it makes you look the normal amount of hot and I’d like to pretend all the two of you want to do is send each other disgustingly sweet heart eyes and nothing more than that.”

James snorts. “I’ll pretend I’ll go with that suggestion then so you can keep your innocent thoughts about us.” In truth James isn’t sure if he’d even get disgustingly sweet heart eyes from Regulus. The entire date feels like a very delicate thing still and all James can do for now is hope it will go well.

“Thanks, Prongs, much appreciated.”

“But you can rest assured, I’m not going to be anything but a perfect gentleman on a first date anyway.”

Sirius nods satisfied. “I’m glad to hear, I need you to treat my brother well.”

James is going to treat Regulus so well. But, well, James adds in his thoughts, should Regulus end up wanting him to not be a perfect gentleman then James can surely argue that this isn’t their first date at all.

“So...” James draws out the word, “are you going to go out with Remus?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No, not this time. While I’d love to see Remus again, this is your date. I don’t want any weird implications to arise by using it for my own gain.”

James tries to not let the relief show too much on his face, but he must fail, as Sirius lets out a chuckle and softly punches James’ arm.

It’s not that James would begrudge Sirius for going on another date. He didn’t get to properly see Remus for as long as James didn’t get to see Regulus after all, but he wants to do this properly. He doesn’t want Regulus to second guess his intentions if he finds out that Sirius is once again going on a date because Regulus did. He just wants to go out with Regulus and get to enjoy the time without worrying. At least without worrying about this specific thing, James is sure he will worry about a great deal of other things while being out, like if his hands get sweaty should Regulus hold them, or if Regulus even wants to hold his hand, or if Regulus still has his reservations about going on a date with James.

“Stop worrying, James,” Sirius says, instantly recognising his thoughts. Yes they agreed they should rely less on their best friend mind reading powers, but that doesn’t mean they’re just going to stop completely. Sirius still knows James better than anyone else and James is thankful for it.

“It’s difficult,” James complains. “It’s Regulus. I already messed this up once, I really don’t want to mess it up again.”

“I mean, statistically speaking the chances of you messing things up with the same person twice in a row are pretty slim.”

“I’m preeeetty sure that’s not how statistics work?” James says. He doesn’t know shit about statistics, but this sounds wrong.

“No, I’m certain,” Sirius insists.

“I’m going to ask Peter about this the next time I see him.”

“Hmm, yes, you can do that,” Sirius hums, “Or you could just believe me, go on your date with Reggie, see that everything ends up being wonderful and then tell me that I was right.”

They agreed that it would be better for James to not pick up Regulus from home. They’ve had enough drama as is, there is no reason to chance any more of that by flaunting their new dating attempt right in front of Walburga Black’s nose. Instead Regulus is supposed to come to the Leaky Cauldron and meet with James there.

Sirius stays with James until he has to leave. Or rather, until James decides it is time to leave, Sirius laughing at him endlessly, because James gets in the fireplace a full twenty-three minutes before he has to.

“You’re pathetic Prongs,” Sirius decides.

“Fuck you too,” James replies but he is too nervous and fidgety to have any capacity left to actually be bothered by Sirius’ teasing.

“Try to calm down a little or you’re going to fall out of the wrong fireplace.”

James takes a deep breath. “Trying my best,” he says. “I’ll talk to you tonight?”

“Sure thing. Now get the fuck out of here and have fun on your date.”

James give Sirius’ the middle finger along with a wide, if anxious grin, throws a handful of floo powder in the fireplace and disappears with a clear “The Leaky Cauldron” in green flames.

His fidgeting can’t have been too bad, because when James stumbles out of the next fireplace he is welcomed by lively chatter and a smoke-filled room.

James fully expected to have to wait around for Regulus to come. He did get here far too early, after all. But when he looks around for a place to sit down and wait, grey eyes meet his and James freezes.

“You’re here early,” Regulus says.

“Regulus!” James beams, the mere image of him standing in the corner a couple feet away from the fireplace evoking a wide grin on his face. “You’re here earlier. Couldn’t wait to see me, huh? I get it, I’m just that irresistible.”

Regulus gives him an unimpressed look, which makes James laugh nervously. Maybe he’s being too forward with it all already. But Merlin, he’s bloody nervous and overconfidence is his usual way to deal with things.

“I didn’t want to wait all alone at home,” Regulus admits. “I don’t particularly like waiting here either, it’s too loud and too many people, but somehow still the more welcome alternative...”

“Ah, sorry for stealing Sirius away from you,” James hums. “I didn’t consider you might also want some moral support... Do you wanna go?” He gestures towards the door.

Regulus nods gratefully and makes his way towards the exit, carefully pushing past the people filling the pub. Coming here in the evening hours was really not the best idea James decides, barely swerving out of the way of a witch carrying six pints of butterbeer.

“You needed moral support?” Regulus asks once they’re both standing outside.

“Oh, Merlin, absolutely. I was really very nervous about this.” A pause, then James adds truthfully, “Still am very nervous by the way.”

Regulus looks at him inquiringly. James doesn’t miss the way his eyes drag across the neckline of the shirt and James is very thankful for Sirius’ fashion advice. “You don’t look very nervous...”

James grins. “Doing my best to look a lot cooler than I am right now, I gotta woo you off your feet after all.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, but he’s also smiling slightly and James thinks he could die happy if things continue like this.

“You’re not nervous about this date then?” James asks curiously.

“I’ve been on several dates with you, James,” Regulus says. “I’m past being nervous about that. It’s not really the date I have to be nervous about now.”

“Ah, yeah,” James says awkwardly. “That makes sense. Sorry...”

“It’s fine,” Regulus sighs. “If you make this a good date I will consider moving past the fact you didn’t actually go out with me for the past two months.”

“So no pressure at all...”

“No pressure at all,” Regulus agrees. “So what are we doing today?”

“Looking at the stars,” James says and looks over at Regulus with a smile.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

James laughs when he sees Regulus’ cheeks darkening slightly. “I’m being fully ser– I’m not joking,” James catches himself automatically.

“It’s not going to be dark for another couple hours. And we are in the middle of London. Are you planning on taking me somewhere else?”

“I mean, yes,” James says, “But only about half an hour away from here by foot. If you’re up for walking.”

There’s an adorable crease of confusion forming on Regulus’ face that James wants to smooth out with a kiss. He doesn’t, in the end, bites his lip to stop the impulse.

“We can also take the bus if you prefer? We’re going to be early either way, since I didn’t expect us to leave for another twenty minutes...”

“I am so confused,” Regulus says. “What stars are we going to look at?” A shadow of realisation passes on Regulus’ face and his expressions darkens ever so slightly. “James, are you going to take me to some rock concert or something?”

James can’t help himself, he actually laughs at Regulus’ obvious distress that this might be what James came up with for a date. “I’m not, I did actually remember which Black brother I’m taking out, don’t worry. Although, if you fancy, there is a laser show in a couple hours where they play some rock songs as well?”

“I think I’ll pass, thank you,” Regulus says decisively.

“Kind of expected as much. I might take Sirius there some time though...”

“I can’t believe I’m going out with someone who’s talking about taking my brother out while on our date,” Regulus mutters.

“I’d love to say I’ll make Sirius’ date less romantic than yours, but it is Sirius we’re talking about here...” James teases. It’s only half a lie. Him and Sirius are known for going a bit overboard with their affection sometimes. Obviously it would never be honestly romantic, but they do like very dramatically staging proposals and breakups and confusing every stranger within a mile radius. It’s fun, but it’s nothing more, and he knows Regulus is aware of it as well.

“Your relationship with Sirius is so weird,” he says anyway. “How has Remus managed to deal with this for so long?”

“He didn’t really get a choice to be honest. Sirius was my best friend before he was Moony’s boyfriend.” He shrugs. “I mean it works, we’re all happy with the way it is.” He hesitates, sending Regulus an inquisitional look. “It doesn’t bother you, does it?”

Regulus thinks about it for a while. “As long as your weird co-dependency doesn’t lead to me getting hurt again, I don’t think I mind. I doubt it would matter much if I did anyway.”

“Well, I mean, you are allowed to set boundaries and stuff,” James says a little clumsily. “But yeah like, no matter how much I like you I couldn’t end my friendship with Sirius...”

“And I wouldn’t want you to,” Regulus assures him. “Despite it all I am glad you’re his best friend.”

It probably shouldn’t make James as happy as it does, but he still can’t keep the dopey grin off his face.

“I’m never going to say anything of the likes ever again though. And if you ever mention it I will swear deniability.”

“Noted,” James says. “I’ll tug it away safely into my memory and keep this information for the rest of my life though, I hope you know that.”

“Of course you are,” Regulus sighs. “So, what’s the plan exactly? I am fine with walking, I would just quite like to know where we are going.”

“To look at stars,” James repeats. “The hot, fiery type. Not the hot human type.”

Regulus, apparently accepting that he won’t get much more information than that for now, sighs and nods. “Lead the way then...”

They’re not holding hands. James is tempted to reach out a couple times, but he can’t quite get himself to cross the last couple inches. It still feels like a boundary he is not yet allowed to cross. Physical affection that Regulus should initiate should he decide the date is going well. And so James surrenders to his fate and just walks next to Regulus, every now and then brushing the backs of their hands together.

They’re talking about this and that, the displayed items behind the shop windows they come by, the dogs that walk past them and the fact that Regulus prefers cats and James can’t properly decide (if it wasn’t for his best friend quite literally being a dog a couple times a month making a decision would probably be a lot easier, but James would never admit as much.) They’re in no rush to get to their destination, and so they take their time and the half an hour walk turns into a leisurely forty-five-minute stroll.

“You know, I thought about getting you flowers,” James admits when they walk past a flower shop, “But considering last time I bought you some immediately afterwards things... uh... happened, I wasn’t so sure it’d be a good idea...”

Regulus looks over at him. “I was really mad at you for getting me the flowers. Absolutely furious when I spotted them in my room.”

James scrunches up his face. “Yeah... Sorry about that...”

“Hadn’t I just found out I never actually did have a boyfriend I would have loved them so incredibly much, which made it all the worse. Because I still liked them and you were being sweet but I needed to hate you. And on top of that they were fucking Gryffindor colours,” Regulus mutters. “Just to add salt to the wound or something.”

“To be fair, I didn’t realise they were Gryffindor colours until Sirius pointed it out to me. I bought them because they had pretty green leaves and I thought you’d like the colour.”

Regulus abruptly stops in the middle of the footpath. James takes two more steps before his mind catches up with his feet and he halts as well, looking at Regulus concerned.

Regulus just stares at him with wide eyes. “Who the fuck buys flowers for their leaves?”

“Uh,” James stutters. “There weren’t any dark green flowers. I realise now I don’t even know if that’s actually your favourite colour, I just assumed and wanted to get you flowers that match your favourite colour... So I looked for leaves...”

“You’re so stupid,” Regulus says, frustration bleeding through his voice. “I want to kiss you so badly.”

James’ mind goes blank. He’s sure he’s trying to make some kind of noise but nothing happens except for an odd gurgling in his throat. He just stares at Regulus with wide eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Ugh,” Regulus huffs and keeps walking.

James’ mind switches from empty into overdrive and he scrambles after Regulus. “No, no Reg, wait, please kiss me. I want you to kiss me.”

Regulus doesn’t stop. “You missed the moment.”

James makes some kind of noise that might be misinterpreted as a whine (it’s not a whine. No matter how desperately he wants this kiss and how disappointed he is that that’s what’s currently not happening. James Potter doesn’t whine.) and rushes after Regulus. “You can’t say something like that and not follow up with actually kissing me, do you want me to suffer?”

“A bit, yes,” Regulus says. Which, rude. But regrettably also kind of fair. “Besides, don’t we have somewhere to be?”

James points down the street. “We still have time. We’re nearly there. See that greenish round building there? That’s where we’re going.”

For a second time within a few minutes Regulus stops walking suddenly. “James,” he says, his voice strained. “James, is– is that a planetarium?”

James nods a little anxious in light of Regulus’ apparent distress. “I remembered you saying you wanted to go to one, so I thought... Is that– was that not right?”

Regulus doesn’t reply. Instead he takes two quick steps towards James, and for a second he thinks Regulus wants to angrily push him away, but then Regulus is right there and James doesn’t think anything anymore because Regulus grabs onto the front of his shirt, roughly pulls him down towards him and kisses him hard.

It’s a desperate kiss, Regulus arching his back to press closer against James, and James doesn’t even have the space in his brain to deny that the noise he lets out at the contact is a whimper. He wraps one arm around Regulus’ waist, his other hand finds its way into his hair where he tangles his fingers tightly into the soft curls. Fuck, how he’s missed this. How he’s missed having Regulus this close, his hands in his hair, his mouth on his. Regulus tastes like picnics by the sea and a summer breeze under the stars and James never wants to let him go.

Regulus’ teeth sink into James’ lower lip and tug on it until James grants him entrance. When their tongues meet, hot and demanding, Regulus moans into his mouth and James hungrily swallows the noise. He thinks he might be getting drunk of it, the way it flows through him warm and all consuming, making him dizzy and flushed all over.

Something slams hard into James’ back, jostling him where he had been so comfortably tangled around Regulus, and he has to take a sidestep to catch himself again, effectively breaking the kiss. Dazed and more than a little irritated James glares at what interrupted the best part of his day so far, a man in a pin striped suit hurrying down the street, his briefcase swinging wildly around.

“Rude,” James mutters.

He looks back at Regulus, whose hands are still fisted into the front of James’ shirt. When James turns his head towards him he blushes and quickly lets go of the fabric, taking a step back. “Sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to spring on you like that.”

“Regulus,” James says seriously, and takes a step towards him, closing the distance between them once more. “You can spring kisses on me whenever you want. If it was up to me I’d be kissing you all the bloody time. There’s nothing to apologise for.”

“I’d kiss you some more, but I do really want to go to that planetarium.” The blush on Regulus’ cheeks spreads out further, down Regulus’ neck and under his collar and James would love nothing more than to find out where it finally ends. “I can’t believe this is what you came up with for a date.”

“I take it it’s a good thing then?”

Regulus huffs out a little laugh. “I don’t think you could have done any better.”

James beams at him. “In that case, I guess we should go so you actually get to see the show.”

As soon as the lights darken around them James’ heart starts beating even faster than before. He anxiously shifts around in his soft chair, tilted slightly back to make it easier to look at the dome of the planetarium, trying to still his nerves. This is the part of the date where he has absolutely no influence over whether or not Regulus will enjoy it, but it is absolutely crucial to him that he does.

James misses the first couple minutes of the planetarium show practically completely, because he is too busy watching Regulus next to him. It seems rather poetic, Regulus Black, lit up by the images of stars and entire galaxies flying overhead them. He is completely captivating – and completely captivated too, the way he has his head leaned back against the seat, looking up at the hemisphere where hundreds of little lights move around, reflected in his eyes. His lips are slightly parted in awe and every now and then he bites his lower lip, obviously trying to hold in a wide smile. Looking at him in those moments is difficult. James’ heart swells enough to make it hard to breathe, his entire body buzzing from adoration for the boy sitting next to him.

At some point Regulus looks over at James, the widest smile on his face. When he catches James already looking at him it softens. He leans closer and whispers, “Look at the stars, James.”

“I already am,” James whispers back.

Regulus shoves him gently. “There’s more if you look up.”

James bites his lip and takes a deep breath through his nose, trying to calm the fast staccato of his heart, before he finally turns his head to watch the show above him. From the corner of his eye he can see Regulus watching him for a second longer, before he reaches over to take James’ hand in his and then turn back towards the universe flying past them.

Regulus links their fingers and gives James’ hand a gentle squeeze. It makes James’ breath hitch in his throat, his heart stumbling over several beats. It takes everything in him not to look at Regulus again. Concentrating on the deep voice explaining various astronomical discoveries, accompanied by the soft sounds of classical orchestra pieces is practically impossible, however. Everything in James’ is focussed on where his hand connects to Regulus’, the cold metal of Regulus’ rings pressing into his skin, the gentle swirls Regulus is tracing across his wrist with his thumb.

James didn’t know a person could feel like this. He didn’t know there were enough atoms in a human body to hold this much love for someone. He knew he was in love with Regulus, until this point he just hadn’t realised how deep this love runs. He is drowning in it, filled to the brim and overflowing. He never wants to let go of this feeling.

I love you, he thinks, I love you so much. He hopes Regulus can somehow hear it, can feel it, in the way James shifts as close to him as their seats allow, in the quick pulse underneath Regulus’ thumb threatening to burst through James’ skin, in the way James’ squeezes his hand tenderly.

Regulus doesn’t let go of his hand for the rest of the show.

“We live in a vast and violent Universe that exceeds human measures and imagination,” the planetarium’s director says as said universe is spinning around the dome, slowly circling back to where the show started. “There are countless of worlds out there, countless stars in our night sky, each star being a sun, each sun a star, having its own planets.” Next to him Regulus laughs softly as he squeezes James’ hand again for the hundredth time in the past hour. “There are worlds out there of infinite variety, each governed by firm physical laws that allow the extraordinary complexity we call life to arise.” The pretty stars and constellations give way to a photograph taken of earth, growing larger and larger above them. “From our vantage point, on a pale blue planet, orbiting an undistinguished, average star, ordinary like any other–”

“Lies,” Regulus whispers softly.

“–far from the centre of our galaxy, we are privileged to be able to look out and seek the answers to the grand questions of existence.”

There is a last gentle rise in the music before it ebbs out in a slow decrescendo and the lights steadily fade back on.

“You’re disagreeing with the actual astronomy professionals?” James asks, no longer in a whisper as all around him people are starting to leave. Neither him nor Regulus are yet ready to get up. Their hands are still intertwined, resting on the arm rest between their seats and James watches in reverence as Regulus’ thumb is still drawing patterns into his skin.

Regulus laughs quietly. “I’m not seriously disagreeing with them. I just think the sun is not at all average or ordinary, but I might just be a bit biased.”

“You keep doing that,” James says lifting his eyes to meet Regulus’. “You mention it a lot. What’s your thing with the sun?”

Regulus ducks his head and looks up at the now blank dome of the planetarium. “It’s a bit embarrassing, you’re going to laugh at me.”

“I would never laugh at you.”

“Well that’s just a lie.”

“I would never lie!”

Regulus gives him an unimpressed look.

“Fine,” James concedes, “I would never lie about anything where it’s not obvious that I’m lying.”

“That sounds more like it.”

“So?”

“So what?”

James laughs. “What’s with the sun?”

Regulus looks away, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “It reminds me of you. Or you of the sun. So I’ve grown rather fond of it.”

James is not sure how to react to this, his insides flooding with warmth. His silence seems to embarrass Regulus further, who refuses to meet his eyes.

The director of the planetarium finally stops James from frantically trying to find words that can appropriately express how much Regulus telling him this means to him. “I’m sorry lads, I will have to ask you to leave, we have to prepare for the next show.”

“Yes, of course, sorry,” Regulus says hurriedly and practically jumps out of his chair. He’s still not letting go of James’ hand, though, so he effectively pulls him up with him.

“It was a really nice show,” James says quickly to the planetarium’s director who watches amused as James is being dragged out of the room. “Really interesting!”

“Please forget I ever said anything,” Regulus mutters on his way out of the planetarium.

James just squeezes his hand but doesn’t make any such promises. “Wanna go for a little walk in Regent’s Park?”

Regulus nods, thankful for the distraction, and tugs him along down the street. It’s a short enough walk, only about five minutes before they leave the busy streets for the quieter footpaths of the park.

“I think it’s really cute, by the way,” James says once they’re comfortably walking past the lake towards the other side of the park, avoiding paths with groups of people as best they can.

“What is?” Regulus asks confused.

“You thinking I’m like the sun. It makes me happy.”

Regulus groans. “James... I told you to forget that comment...”

James vehemently shakes his head. “I really do think it’s lovely. I make comments about you being a star all the time, I like the idea that we’re both up there in the universe for forever.”

James can see Regulus fighting with himself before ultimately giving up and mumbling, “The stars aren’t going to be there forever...”

“Maybe,” James hums and lifts Regulus’ hand to his lips to gently press a kiss to his knuckles. “But it’s close enough to forever that I can excuse that.”

Regulus blushes adorably, his eyes trained on where James’ lips are still brushing across the back of his hand. “Thank you,” he says finally, when James drops their hands again, swinging them happily along to their steps.

James draws his eyebrows together. “For stopping to kiss your hand?” he asks.

“No, you idiot,” Regulus says. After a pause, “I liked that.” It’s a quiet confession that gives James a little extra spring to his steps and sends a dopey smile on his face. “I was talking about the date. The planetarium. It was perfect. Thank you.”

“I’m really glad. I honestly had no idea what exactly to expect except for, you know, stars, so I’m glad it was something on par with your standards. I also enjoyed it. Even if I have to admit I missed quite a bit of the explanations.”

“I wonder why,” Regulus mutters.

It’s an obvious rhetorical question, but James decides to answer anyway. “See, I was on a date with this really amazing person and he’s just too beautiful not to look at and then he kept holding my hand and there was simply no chance I’d be able to concentrate.”

“Sounds like an annoyingly distracting person, if he keeps you from appreciating the stars.”

James stops walking and tugs on Regulus’ hand until he steps closer and faces him properly. He lifts his free hand to Regulus’ face and gingerly runs his fingers down his cheek, revelling in the way it makes Regulus shiver.

“He makes me appreciate the stars a lot more, actually,” James says quietly, speaks it into the space between them like a secret. “I realised I was in love with him under the stars and seeing him under those same stars again, even if they were merely a projection, only made me fall in love more.” James gently tugs a stray curl behind Regulus’ ear, then lets his finger trail further down his neck, letting it come to rest at his nape where he lightly plays with the soft hairs curling there.

When he drops his hand again he looks at Regulus earnestly and waits for him to return his gaze before he says his next words. “I love you, Regulus. I love it when you argue with me and I love it when you talk to me about poetry and the stars and your friends. I also love when you don’t say anything and just sit with me in silence, even though I usually am not good with silence at all. With you it is comfort and warmth and I love you for that, too. I love looking at you and kissing you and holding your hand and being near you all the time. I just love you, all of you. So much. And I was wondering...”

James looks around for just a second, lets his eyes travel around the quiet corner of the park where they came to a halt in, shielded off by a few bushes and trees from the main path. “I know I asked this before, but last time I messed it up and you didn’t deserve it, so I’m trying again.” James takes a deep breath, his heart suddenly beating very fast again.

This might still not be the right moment, might be too soon, but he’s already started, so there is no turning back now. And it feels right, feels like the right moment, so he pushes his worrying thoughts down and looks back at Regulus.

“I was wondering if you’d like to be my boyfriend.” A beat of hesitation, then he adds uncertainly, “Real boyfriend. Just for the two of us. With no ulterior motives or miscommunicated secrets. Just my boyfriend, although there would obviously be nothing just about it, there could never be anything just about you being my boyfriend, if you wanted to be that, that is, since you don’t have to–”

“James,” Regulus interrupts him quietly and James’ mouth falls instantly shut, his nervous ramblings now shifted to nervous silence as he watches Regulus. His cheeks are crimson and there is an earnest smile on his face when he says, “I’d like to be your boyfriend. Just your boyfriend, even. I’d like that very much.”

“Oh,” James breathes out, and then he surges forward, cups Regulus’ face in his hands, and kisses him.

It’s nothing like their previous kisses. There had always been some kind of urgency to it, desperation. A public kiss to prove a point, a secret kiss in the dark, a first kiss after heartbreak. This kiss isn’t any of those. This is a kiss full of warmth and certainty. Gentle hands trailing up sides, warm fingers running across cheekbones, soft lips brushing against each other. It is all love and adoration. A promise of a beginning, a vow for more.

Even when James deepens the kiss it stays tender. A light nip of Regulus’ lower lip, the delicate slide of tongue against skin. Regulus’ hands find their way into James’ hair, soft pads of fingers, smooth silver rings. Under his touch James shivers, heat coursing through his body from every point of contact.

Around them the leaves in the trees rustle as the wind picks up, but James barely notices. He feels light enough to float away, and he might have, if it wasn’t for his heart being anchored to Regulus in his arms. Right here, in this moment, his place in the world is so certainly determined by Regulus’ lips on his.

It doesn’t stop with the wind – when the first raindrops, cold and heavy, start falling around them, James can’t help himself. His content smile against Regulus’ lips turns into a chuckle, and finally into a full laugh that has him have to break away eventually.

“I’m so sorry,” James giggles, “but this is the most cliché kiss I’ve ever had.”

Regulus tilts his head up and scowls at the sky, squinting to avoid getting rain in his eyes. “It would be a bit more of a cliché if you didn’t stop kissing me so we could properly snog in the pouring rain.”

James cocks his head. “Do you want to?”

“Not really,” Regulus says after a short moment of consideration, looking at James once again. “I’d rather stay as dry as possible so the date can last longer.”

Just for that, James pulls him close again for another kiss, albeit this one a lot shorter. When he pulls back he grins. “Well then, Reg, let’s keep you dry.”

Regulus narrows his eyes at him. “I do not like how you sound far too gleefully mischievous here.”

James grabs his hand and briskly tugs him back the way they’ve come. “No mischief,” he promises. “I’m just happy you want to keep this date going.”

They’ve barely made it out of the park when the occasional raindrops suddenly give way to a proper downpour. Regulus lets out what seems to be a stream of French words damning the skies and tightens his grip on James’ hand, before he falls into a quick run alongside him.

“I told you I’d get you to run with me some day!” James laughs, the heavy raindrops splattering against his glasses, turning the world around him into a kaleidoscope picture.

“Oh fuck off!” Regulus calls back through the rushing of the rain and the noise of tires against a wet street next to them.

“Come on in here,” James instructs, but doesn’t give him the chance to react before he pulls Regulus into the small cubicle box he spotted at the side of the footpath. It has barely enough space for both of them to stand inside, but it’s a temporary shelter that will keep them dry until the rain subsides. And standing inside a small, confined room, shut off from the rest of the world, with Regulus, his boyfriend? Well, James would be mad to complain about that.

“Huh?” Regulus asks confused in light of the new surroundings, looking around the enclosure curiously.

“Photo booth,” James gives the short explanation, pulling the black curtain hiding them from the street shut behind himself. “It keeps you dry and very close to me. Perfect conditions for a longer date.” He crowds Regulus against the wall – it’s not much of a change in position since they’re already closely crowded together as is, but James takes the last few inches for himself as well and leans in to kiss Regulus.

Regulus, however, presses his hands against James’ chest and gently pushes him away. “Ew, you’re wet,” he complains half-heartedly, but his hands stay firmly on James’ chest, running across the soaked fabric sticking to his skin. James feels awfully smug about the way Regulus’ eyes are practically glued to where the water caused the white fabric of his shirt to go a little see-through.

“Uh huh, sure looks like you really hate the fact that I got rained on,” James teases.

Regulus quickly pulls his hands away. “I do,” he says with a scowl, his cheeks burning red.

“Reg, love, you don’t have to pretend to not like the way I look, I’m very much aware of the fact that you do. I like it, it makes me feel good.”

At the pet name Regulus’ cheeks darken only further. After a moment of hesitation he lightly tugs on James’ shirt. “Whoever allowed you to wear this should be put into prison.”

James snorts, “That would be Sirius for you.”

“I stand by my point,” Regulus asserts. “It’s a terrible shirt. You look far too good and the rain really did not help.”

“And yet you still don’t want to kiss me because you’re bothered by the wetness?” James smirks and raises his eyebrows. If he could he’d only raise one, this seeming to be the more appropriate reaction for his teasing and also infinitely cooler, but this skill was unfortunately kept from him, a fact Sirius never tires to remind James of.

Regulus plays with the hem of the shirt’s button facing for another second before he points to the little stool bolted into the photo booth. “Sit,” he commands.

At the change in tone from flustered and petulant to this James hurriedly sits down.

“Do you have Muggle money?”

James draws his eyebrows together in surprised confusion, but nods. His voice is lost somewhere unknown as he looks up at Regulus standing right in front of him, between his open legs. Something about this entire situation makes James’ heart beat faster. He doesn’t have the brain capacity to examine the reason behind that properly right now, so he just waits for Regulus to make the next move.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Regulus says, “And then we’re going to make proper use of this photo booth. Considering I lost most of my photos with you I need to take new ones anyway.”

James nods keenly. “Sounds like a good plan.” His voice comes out a little raspy as Regulus climbs on his lap, straddling him. “Hi,” James breathes out when they’re face to face, Regulus’ arms looped around his neck.

“Hello,” Regulus replies softly, smiling.

And then he’s kissing him again.

If James could think about anything but Regulus’ lips and Regulus’ hands and Regulus’ name and Regulus he’d compare this kiss to the first one they shared. It’s similar, a nice mirror situation with Regulus on his lap once again right after having complained about Sirius. It is also nothing at all like their first kiss, because James is in love and Regulus is his boyfriend and this kiss is theirs. It is a kiss for the sake of kissing, a kiss because James loves Regulus and he gets to do these things now.

James tangles his hands through Regulus’ damp curls, less soft like this but not any less perfect, and melts a little. This is all he’s ever wanted and it is more than a little overwhelming. But then Regulus licks into his mouth, untugs his shirt to push a hand under it and run it up James’ back and James is no longer melting, he is burning up, fire spreading through him from every of Regulus’ touches.

He moans, somewhere in the back of his mind thankful for the rushing rain outside of the photo booth swallowing up the noise for anyone but them. Regulus hears it, though, and seems to take it as the plea for more it is. Because James wants more. He wants all of it, everything, if only it includes Regulus. He needs more and Regulus is more than willing to give it. He digs his hands into the muscles of James’ back and presses closer, chest against chest, and rolls his hips down against James.

James shudders, not prepared for this, his body quickly reacting to the friction, and he lets out a startled groan and pulls back a little, breaking the kiss.

Regulus doesn’t let this deter him as he starts kissing along James’ neck instead, nipping his skin on the way, pausing to suck at an especially sensitive spot when James whimpers.

“Reg,” James moans, “Fuck– love, I need you to stop.”

Regulus does pull back at that, his lips red and swollen, but there is a disappointed pout on his face.

This is not at all what James wants. This is very much the opposite of what James wants, actually, he’d much rather have Regulus back sucking bruises into his skin and grinding down against him. But there is a time and place for this and right here, right now is probably not it.

“As much as I would love for you to continue this,” James croaks, “we’re still in a photo booth in public and I don’t think this is much more appropriate of a situation for me to get off to you than last time was.”

At the words Regulus flushes furiously. He looks so beautiful like this; James loves seeing him blush, especially when he knows he’s caused that. He quickly presses a kiss into the corner of Regulus’ lips, trying to force his own body to calm down again. It’s rather difficult with Regulus still on top of him, looking like he does.

“Photos?” James asks anyway.

“Photos,” Regulus agrees, still visibly flustered.

It takes a minute for James to retrieve the coins of Muggle money from his pocket, mainly because he refuses to let Regulus get up to speed up the process. It takes another couple minutes before they figure out how the photo booth works. James has never done this himself, he’s only once watched Lily and Marlene operate one of these machines before. In the end Regulus twists around in James’ lap, takes the money from his hand and exasperatedly points at the little sign very clearly stating step by step what to do to get it working.

“Reading is not difficult, James.”

“You’re biased, of course you’d say that.”

“Opening a book every now and then is not being biased?” Regulus’ voice raises in indignation at the end.

“I’ll have you know I’ve opened several books in the past few days! I’ve even read them!”

James can see that Regulus is trying his best to hide his laugh. In the end a small snort still escapes and he mockingly mutters “Even read them” under his breath. “And yet you still can’t grasp a simple sign,” he adds.

“That’s what I’ve got you for now,” James says and kisses the back of Regulus’ neck. “That’s what one gets a smart boyfriend for, to read all the signs for me.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Regulus says but he sounds so endlessly fond, James has to kiss his neck again for good measure. “Now look up, the machine is going to take photos as soon as I press this.”

James wraps his arms more securely around Regulus and hooks his chin over his shoulder. He watches Regulus feed the machine the coins and press the little white button to start the process.

For the first photo they simply both grin into the camera. On the second, James decides to bite Regulus’ neck, which causes him to yelp indignantly. He swats at James in retaliation, which makes him duck away laughing and when the flash goes off a third time James is sure the photo will come out completely blurred. James doesn’t get to point that out though, as Regulus suddenly twists around, cups James’ face in his hands, and cuts James’ words off by kissing him fiercely.

James completely misses the camera flashing for the last picture.

Several minutes later, when Regulus mumbles “Can we go back to yours?” against James’ lips and James nods enthusiastically, a strip of four black and white photos is waiting for them. Regulus doesn’t even bother looking at them before tucking them safely away into his pocket and pulling James up with him.

When they leave the photo booth to make their way back to the Leaky Cauldron it is easy, maybe even natural, to link their fingers, their hands fitting together as if they were always meant to be. Around them a cold wind is mixing with the heavy raindrops still falling from the sky.

In the streets of London summer is ending, but with Regulus’ fingers intertwined with his, James’ hands are still warm.

I hate the way you tell me no just to disagree

I hate the way you criticise my favourite poetry

I hate it when you’re quiet and won’t let me understand

I hate it how you make me lie, and when you hold my hand

I hate the way you dress all black and tie up your hair

I hate that when I turn around you are always there

Even more I hate when you’re not here, and won’t answer my call

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you

Not even close, not even a little bit

Not even at all