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Chapter Text

Regulus' POV

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Cinnamon. The Potter household smelt of cinnamon and bonfire smoke. That was the first thing Regulus noticed when he turned up on their doorstep, soaked from late June’s rain.

Bones aching and breath labored, Regulus grabbed hold of the knocker centered on the Potter’s door and used the last of his energy to knock three clamorous times. Part of him felt bad- it being almost midnight, some of the residents were bound to be asleep. But truthfully he didn’t know where else to go. The night had been long and Wallburga’s harsh words still echoed in his mind. He had left, and there was ‘no turning back’ as his mother so nicely put it.

Loud footsteps came from within the house, followed by voices; alight with laughter and banter. Just as Regulus began to lean on the doorframe, overstimulated from his evening, the door wretched open and Sirius’ head peeked out. The grin dropped from his face almost immediately, worry and shock overcoming him as he took in Regulus’ state.

“Christ, Reg,” he breathed out, arms darting out to pull him inside. “What happened-”

“Can I come in,” Regulus interrupted, desperately in need of dry clothes, dry shelter, dry anything. And as much as he’d try to deny it, the Potter household seemed enticingly warm -comforting even.

“Reg, of course. C’mon then,” Sirius said, eyes still wide from the utter surprise of seeing his brother turn up at his new home.

Sirius and Regulus looked strikingly similar. All chiseled faces and gray eyes. Sirius had grown his hair out longer since he left home though, their mother would never have let him before. Black locks rested on Sirius’ shoulders, caressing the fitted t-shirt he had on that read ‘The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders of Mars’. Regulus considered himself smart, very smart even, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what the fuck a ‘Ziggy Stardust’ was.

Regulus shuffled inside, unceremoniously dragging his baggage behind him. Before he could take more than two steps in, Sirius’ warm hands were grabbing at his face, inspecting him under the warm glow of the house. Under the light Regulus’s bruises began to show.

“Reg,” Sirius whispered, anger flashing across his eyes. “What did she do to you?”

Regulus hadn’t exactly been able to glance in the mirror after his departure, but he had guessed he was worse for wear. One of his sharp cheekbones was bruised a nasty shade of yellow, purple bordering the taut skin. His bottom lip was busted, a cut running down the middle that now had dried blood along it. Much to Regulus’s dismay, Sirius insisted on lifting his jumper and taking off his shirt, knowing better than anyone where the worst of it would be.

“Sirius, get off. Don’t-”

Too late.

Along his lean torso, purple splotches tainted his skin, and a fresh cut ran down from his ribs to his stomach. It wasn’t deep, already healing over, but residue blood was left behind, drying along his middle. It was quite gory, but Regulus couldn’t find the energy in him to be properly concerned for himself at the moment.

It was then that James came bustling in.

Of course Regulus expected him to show up, it was his house for god sake, but regardless, his face heated a lovely shade of red as the boy came down the stairs.

Regulus swore to carry it with him to the grave, but for some reason, beyond what Regulus could even begin to comprehend, he was besotted with James.

When Regulus first arrived at Hogwarts, bright eyed and cherub-like, Sirius had insisted on James being Regulus’ first introduction. After hearing Sirius rave about him in his letters and all of summer, Regulus was sweating through his robes, eager to meet the boy that his brother so adamantly adored. Upon meeting James, Regulus realized his nerves were warranted. James quite literally glowed. James was arrogant, and cocky, and charming, and handsome, and that smile. Oh, that smile.

Regulus Black was helplessly infatuated with James Fleamont Potter from the start, and he hated himself for it.

At first, Regulus brushed it off as mere idolization of his brother’s friend. James was effortlessly alluring, why wouldn’t he look up to him. But then Regulus met Remus and Peter, more of Sirius’ friends, and they just… didn’t do it for him.

So Regulus came to the conclusion that the way James made his stomach drop was not just because James was older and cooler. No, it was because he liked him. He wanted him.

Of course he would develop a crush on the one person that would never want him. James didn’t even like boys, tripping over himself time after time over Lily Evans. A girl. No, James could never want him.

It made Regulus miserable just to think about it. So he didn’t. From the minute they met, despite that initial spark of interest, Regulus ignored James’ existence almost entirely. Regulus would stay silent whenever anyone mentioned him. He'd insult and take no notice of James when he tried talking to him. He’d turn around whenever James was in his eyeline. Sometimes he’d glare at him from across the Great Hall, send an eyeroll or two in response to a smile, but for the most part, James Potter didn’t exist to Regulus. He just couldn’t. Regulus would simply combust if he did.

And on top of the feelings he regrettably had, Regulus also felt aversion towards the boy. He’d replaced Regulus as Sirius’ brother, how could Regulus not hate him for it. He was everything Regulus wasn’t: loud, outgoing, happy, fun. Sirius preferred James, he always would prefer James, and that was something Regulus just couldn’t be okay with.

Being replaced by his own brother made something ugly fester inside Regulus from the ripe age of 11. So much hate for such a little body made Regulus feel as if he was constantly drowning. It took years for him to cope with it, and now in his sixth year of Hogwarts, Regulus could confidently say that he could tread the waters that were James Potter, so long as he pretended he didn’t exist.

So here he was: tired, beaten, bruised, and vulnerable. Having the boy he loathed, and despised, and was helplessly attracted to, see him like this? It’d be worse than what his mother did to him.

“Sirius! Whose- oh shit,” James breathed out, voice quieting as he spotted his best friend’s disheveled brother.

And God, was Regulus gay.

Did James really have to look like that? On a random Wednesday night. At midnight, mind you. What on Earth was he doing looking so fucking attractive at this hour?

James was clad in muggle clothes. He wore a tight fitted, white shirt and deep blue, denim jeans. His hair was a mess, per usual; dark curls mussed on the top of his head. His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose and Regulus spotted a gold chain tucked behind his shirt - not that Regulus was looking at his neck… no, he was just.. whatever.

“Sirius lets get him through the doorway, yeah? I’ll grab Mum.” James exhaled, breaking Regulus out of his trance. James eyed his torso, sizing up the damage Walburga had done to him with attentive eyes. Uncomfortable from the attention, Regulus instinctively glared and James responded with a smile, but he seemed to take the hint and turned around, bounding up the winding staircase.

Ever the hero, James Potter, Regulus thought as Sirius led him through a hallway and into a small library.

To say the Potter’s home was beautiful was an understatement. Regulus had only seen one room but he was in awe. It was summer now, but their fireplace was lit, casting the room in warmth which he was grateful for considering his current state. The walls were painted a deep green, and mismatched lamps littered the floor. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the walls and candles were charmed to float above them; much like Hogwarts. Merlin, Regulus missed Hogwarts.

Despite his interest in the home, Regulus kept his eyes trained on his hands and huddled into the corner of the couch, shiveringly cold from his lack of a shirt and soggy pants. He felt guilty, intruding in like this.

In the last few months preceding summer holiday, Regulus and Sirius had begun to work on their relationship. There was still tension, sometimes Regulus felt as if they didn’t understand each other at all. But at the end of the day, Sirius was his big brother. Always his big brother. Regulus would never be able to shake the undeniable love he had for Sirius, no matter how hard he tried.

Sirius made an effort though. Repeatedly reminding Regulus that he wasn’t alone. That he always had a place at the Potter’s, and that Euphemia and Fleamont, James’ parents, even suggested it. If things ever got too much, they would be there, just as they were for Sirius. But now, being there, Regulus couldn’t feel more like a snake in a lion's den. They’d already taken in one traumatized Black, why on Earth would they want another?

“Reggie? Did you hear me?” Sirius pulled him from his thoughts, sitting beside him. Regulus lifted his gaze from his hands to meet his brother's eyes; surprise surprise, they were still doused in concern. “Regulus, can you talk to me? Please?”

“Can I put a bloody shirt on first?” Regulus hissed, painfully aware of the nakedness of his upper body.

Sirius immediately began to pull his own t-shirt off. He threw it at Regulus, completely unfazed by his now nude chest. Regulus rolled his eyes and tugged the shirt on.

“Alright, you’re all covered, you prude. Go on then,” Sirius urged, adrenaline still coursing through his body at the sight of his injured brother.

“Yeah, well now you’re shirtless. Terrific problem solving skills, Sirius. Really,” Regulus retaliated. After the day he had, he couldn’t help but misplace some anger.

“Regulus.”

“Right,” Regulus said in a clipped voice, too tired to manage his mood and to give a more complex explanation. “Mother found the letters you sent. It- it didn’t go over well, the fact that I had been hiding them. And well,” Regulus gestured to his torn up body.

“The Cruciatus?” Sirius questioned, knowing all too well what their mother typically attacked with.

Regulus nodded mindlessly. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think at all. He tucked his chin into Sirius’ shirt that fit loosely around Regulus’ frame, and breathed in Sirius’ distinct smell of pine and honey. He was embarrassed by how comforting he found it.

“I took the Knight Bus. I didn't know where else to go. I'm sorry,” Regulus continued, directing his gaze down to his shiny, black dress shoes: the kind only his parents would make him wear.

“Well what the bloody hell are you sorry for?” Sirius asked bewildered.

Before he could reply, James reappeared, accompanied by his parents. Mrs. Potter rushed over to Regulus, crouching down to meet his eye level. She was a kind looking woman with dark skin and curly, black hair.

“All right, love?” She asked softly. She looked at him earnestly with the same chocolate brown eyes James had. Regulus remained quiet, wanting nothing more than to sink into the couch and never resurface. All these eyes on him had made him uneasy.

“James mentioned you’ve hurt your stomach, as well as your face. I’m just going to heal those for you real quick, it won’t hurt a bit,” she whispered as if she were talking to a child. Regulus didn’t mind it, there were far worse ways to be spoken to. “Monty, grab him a cuppa. James, go get some dry clothes for him and a shirt for Sirius.” Fleamont and James made haste, both crashing into one another as they tried to squeeze through the doorframe of the library at the same time. This made Sirius smile fondly.

Sirius was the one to break the uncomfortable silence that followed. “Mum, be sure to heal that cheekbone. Only good feature he's got,” he joked weakly.

Euphemia chuckled, “Oh, hush you,” and raised her wand, wordlessly healing Regulus’ many wounds.

Regulus sat still, stuck on the fact that his brother called Euphemia ‘Mum’ now. He’d never get used to that. Familiar feelings of displeasure crawled their way up his throat, but Regulus swallowed them back down.

Finally, his entire body was healed. It didn’t necessarily hurt anymore, but discomfort still stretched across his skin and through his bones. He really just needed to sleep.

“Thank you, Mrs. Potter. I’m sorry to have burst in-”

“Oh, nonsense.” She interrupted. “Our home is your home. And I won’t have you returning back to your family after the state they’ve left you in. Now, you can call me Effie, or Mum, either is fine. I know we’ve only been introduced a handful of times but I really am excited to acquaint ourselves. I’m just sorry it has to be under these circumstances, dear.” She smiled.

Fleamont returned with a cup of tea balanced between careful fingers. He looked like James in some ways, same wild hair, same glasses, perched on the tip of his nose. He had a calming presence that Regulus couldn’t help but appreciate. Regulus accepted the tea with a quiet ‘thank you’ and sipped on it. Honestly, he couldn’t stomach anything at the moment, but he didn’t want to sound rude by turning the offer down. Euphemia and Fleamont were nurturing him, Regulus supposed, and, unfamiliar as it may be, he wasn’t going to fuck that up on his first night of arrival.

“Alright, why don’t I give you two some space. James is setting up your room, Regulus, it should be ready soon,” Euphemia said, sensing Regulus’ dire need for a bed and a dreamless sleep. “Monty, darling, come."

After bidding their goodnights, Mr. and Mrs. Potter left the library, leaving Sirius and Regulus once more.

“Regu-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No,” Regulus sharply repeated. “Anything we need to talk about, can be discussed in the morning.”

“Fine,” Sirius relented, sighing dramatically. “We’ll talk tomorrow then. Just- can I get you anything?”

There were a million things Regulus could’ve asked for. A million things he wanted but wasn’t brave enough to prompt.

“No, thank you,” was what Regulus replied, tilting his head back against the cushions of the couch in an attempt to alleviate his headache.

And just as he got comfortable-

“Sirius, you tosser, put this on,” James smiled, chucking a jumper directly at Sirius’ face. “Reg, I’ve left some clothes for you in your room. It’s all ready for you.” James then stretched his arms above his head and- God, his muscles.

Regulus, star seeker for Slytherin’s quidditch team, often saw James in the changing rooms, seeing as James was Gryffindor’s chaser. Most of the time he kept his eyes glued to his feet, but on the rare occasions he indulged himself, he caught a glimpse of James’ muscles. Seeing them now, up close, in a situation where he’s allowed to look at him. Where he has to look at him. Regulus was taking advantage of that. He was just openly staring, and he couldn’t be arsed.

“Reggie? Reg-” Sirius called his name, breaking Regulus out of his daze.

Regulus snapped his eyes to his brother, a faint blush tinging his cheeks.

“Sorry, what?” Regulus asked, trying to conceal a yawn. Sirius opened his mouth to answer when James beat him to it.

“Are you ready for bed, Reg?” James smiled, looking slightly amused. Merlin, If James kept looking at him like that, Regulus was going to have an aneurysm.

Nope. No. This was not happening. He was not going to be flustered. James didn’t exist. He didn’t exist. He. Did. Not. Exist.

“Yes, Potter. And my name is Regulus.” Regulus bit back, glaring at James as he rose to his feet.

“Okay Reg, and my name’s James,” James replied easily, a grin stretching across his face. “Let's head up.”

James and Sirius showed Regulus to the room he’d be staying in, right across from James’ and next to Sirius’. The room had a big window, a four poster bed, a dresser, and a desk. It was painted dark gray and Regulus found this one room alone more comforting than all of Grimmauld. He noticed his baggage had already been brought up and fresh clothes had been set on the bed.

Where the fuck was he, honestly? The attentiveness and care that he had received in less than 2 hours of being there shocked him.

“Okay,” Regulus started, removing the clothes from his bed and pulling the blanket back. “I’m going to go to sleep.” He really was just too exhausted to speak in sentences longer than ten words.

Sirius and James stared back at him blankly.

Regulus rolled his eyes, hard. “Merlin, do you two geniuses plan to watch me as I rest?”

Sirius and James both muttered their apologies, loudly saying their goodnights, and disappearing behind the door of Regulus’ room.

Finally, he was alone. He could think now. Mulling over every detail of the night while simultaneously trying to forget every detail of the night, he quickly undressed, careful to keep Sirius’ ‘Ziggy Stardust’ shirt on, and pulled on a pair of plaid pajama pants that James had left for him.

If someone told Regulus 1 day ago that he’d be sleeping in the Potter’s home, wearing Sirius and James’ clothes, and would be living there for the foreseeable future, he would have laughed in their face and then hexed them for their stupidity.

Now look at him.

He got comfortable in bed, which wasn’t challenging because the Potter’s had extremely soft sheets and pillows. With the image of his mother cursing him behind his eyes, Regulus fell into a heavy slumber.

Chapter Text

James’ POV

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James threw himself into his bed, settling under the red duvet. He spread his limbs and lay there, replaying the events of the night in his head. 

Firstly, James had never seen Regulus so unkempt. Every hair on his head always fell perfectly into place. Every wrinkle in his robes was always smoothed over. The boy walked around Hogwarts like a fucking paragon. Not that James was taking note. No, he was just observant.

Seeing Regulus in such a disheveled state brought James back to a little less than a year ago, when Sirius had turned up at the Potter’s doorstep just like Regulus. Uneasiness filled him as he remembered Sirius almost bleeding to death on their carpet. James shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of those memories. They made him far too anxious, and a perturbed James wasn’t fun for anyone. 

James didn’t want to burden those who actually endured the trauma with his inconsequential concern. It wasn’t about him. He couldn’t make it about him. His anxiety was the least of their problems.

And James had… 

another issue at hand. 

Of course, James knew that there was a possibility that Regulus would come to live with them. James was actually the one who suggested it to Sirius and their parents, thinking it would be best for both of the brothers to be together. But now that Regulus was really there, a continuous surge of nerves coursed through James’ body. 

Regulus didn’t particularly like him; James gathered that much. But James didn’t believe that the distaste from Regulus’ side was completely irreparable. James was confident he could crack him, or at the very least make him crack a smile. 

And the thing was, James needed to break through Regulus’ apprehension. Regulus was his best mate’s brother; James had to get along with him. It was practically required. Sirius and Regulus had been mending their relationship over the past few months, which meant James would be seeing a lot more of the younger boy. He had to win over Regulus.

And perhaps James liked the chase of winning someone’s affections as well. Perhaps he enjoyed working for it. 

And, Merlin, there was something so sweet about receiving warmth from someone whose gaze was once so cold. 

So James called him ‘Reg’ and pushed a few buttons; he couldn’t help it, honestly. James wanted to break the boy’s demeanor down. He wanted to get to know him. For Sirius’ sake, of course. 

And now James had the opportunity to do so almost 24/7. 

Merlin, this is going to be a fun summer, James thought. 

With that he closed his eyes, allowing the darkness to overcome him and leave him with a dream filled sleep.

Regulus’ POV

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Regulus woke up to a deep blue sky, the kind that came only with the earliest of mornings. Grumbling, he wiped the sleep from his eyes and sat up, itching at the healed over wound on his chest. 

The house was quiet, as Regulus guessed it would be. He was an early riser and had always beaten everyone to it. Growing up at Grimmauld, he had developed something akin to a built-in alarm clock that woke him before sunrise each day. And despite his tiredness, he could never find it in himself to go back to sleep. 

Regulus crossed his room and opened the latch to the window, welcoming the fresh air. Just as he began to enjoy the quiet, he heard rustling from outside his door. 

Curious, Regulus padded softly to his bedroom door and turned the knob slowly. To his surprise, Regulus caught James slipping out of his own room. Regulus attempted to retreat but James saw him before he could close the door. 

To Regulus’ annoyance, the other boy looked incredibly soft in the mornings. All sleepy eyes and lazy smiles. Merlin, even his hair looked fluffier. How is that even possible, Regulus thought.  James caught Regulus’ eye and a sleepy grin graced his face. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” James whispered, leaning against the frame of his bedroom door. 

Regulus, too distracted by the sliver of skin shown above James’ pajama pants, leveled him with a blank stare.

“Not a morning person, I see,” James easily continued the conversation by himself. “Not to worry, I can compensate for the both of us.” 

Regulus, in desperate need of an escape, began to back into his room again, closing the door, but James’ hand caught it at the last minute.

“Do you need something?” Regulus finally spoke, annoyed at the fact that James wouldn’t just leave so he could obsess over early-morning-James-Potter in peace. 

James pulled the door back and smiled again, this time more … nervous? 

“Would you like to have tea with me?” James tried, fingers playing with the drawstrings of his pants. 

“No.”

James laughed at Regulus’ forwardness, but he wasn’t deterred.

“C’mon Reg, Sirius has told me all about your tea addiction. It’s really nothing to be ashamed of,” James grinned cheekily. “Just one cuppa?” 

Regulus felt his face heat from the teasing. Nope. Absolutely not. James would not get the satisfaction of seeing Regulus blush at his hands. So, Regulus did the only logical thing he could think of; he pushed his door shut, edging James back into the hallway and out of his personal space. 

Much better. 

Regulus could breathe again. 

Finding his way back to bed, he shoved his face into the closest pillow and let out a muffled cry. James Potter was unbearably attractive, that was a fact. More specifically, that was a fact he had to live with for the rest of the summer. 

The younger boy waited a good five or so minutes before he wandered back towards the bedroom door. James had to have been gone by then. Quietly turning the knob, Regulus was met with an empty hallway, much to his relief. 

After relieving himself in the lavatory, Regulus made his way down the winding staircase, carefully taking one step at a time. 

The boy looked at the portraits and paintings that graced the walls, recognizing his brother in quite a few. He hated himself for it, but a part of him still felt bitter towards Sirius and his new family. It wasn’t that he was not happy Sirius escaped their parents. No, Regulus understood. That was the worst part. He understood why Sirius left, why Sirius left him. But Sirius had a home now. A real one, equipped with warmth and laughter. His brother had a life that was continuously encouraged. And Regulus just… didn’t. He never had the luxury of intimacy, the kind that came from guidance, the kind that nestled under one’s skin and reminded a person that they mattered. Regulus didn’t have a family in the way Sirius did, and that was something he had to make peace with. Even though he was technically a part of the Potter household now, he wasn’t truly a Potter. He couldn’t adopt their traditions and their love in the way his brother could. He wouldn’t even try to; it’d be pointless. 

Regulus was a Black. He would always be a Black. His origins were sewed into his spine and screamed into his ears. Regulus was cold and reserved and scared. He supposed that final trait was the one that truly defined a Black: fear. Fear of losing control. Fear of being vulnerable. Fear of not being enough. Fear, fear, fear. And even though he'd left Grimmauld, he would always be a product of that environment. He'd always be a scared, little Black. 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Regulus padded to the kitchen, now craving the tea James had offered. A small part of him wished he hadn't turned him down. And- 

Of course. Of fucking course.

As he entered the room, his eyes immediately found James sitting at the table with- not one, but- two cups of tea. 

James looked more awake now, smiling happily at the younger boy. 

“Tea?” James asked innocently, pushing forward. 

Regulus, choosing- more like forcing himself- not to indulge in the Gryffindor, silently sat down and grasped the teacup with a blank expression. The kitchen was silent for a few moments, moments Regulus savored. He enjoyed the quiet, preferred it even. And having company (the company of a fit boy he’d been obsessed with for ages) wasn’t so bad. 

James lifted his cuppa to his mouth, and, when taking a sip, steam fogged his glasses. Giggling at himself, James took them off and wiped them on his shirt. Regulus had only seen James without his glasses a handful of times, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the way Jame’s glasses framed his face. Without the spectacles, James didn’t really look like James. 

James, once he had his glasses back on, leveled Regulus with a curious look. It was only then that Regulus realized he had been staring. A brilliant flush overtook the Slytherin’s cheeks, and he looked away immediately, eyes focusing on the hot tea rippling in the teacup. 

“How did you sleep?” James tried, nervous from Regulus’ previous attention. 

“Fine,” Regulus replied sharply, not daring to make eye contact again. 

“Yeah, that bed’s pretty comfortable. Peter sleeps there when he spends the night.” Suddenly James’ face lit up, like an idea made its way through his daft, beautiful, stupid, handsome skull. “You know, Pete and Remus are actually coming to the house a few times this summer. They’re scheduled for a visit next week. I’m sure if you’d- well if you’d like to invite any of your friends. To spend some time here that'd be great. If you’d like of course,” James rambled. 

“Okay,” was all Regulus responded with, eyes still locked in on his tea. 

“Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

More silence followed. Regulus sipped quietly, getting comfortable again. Until-

“You could invite those erm- that Crouch boy you're always with. And Rosier? Right?” James continued, obviously not a fan of the quiet. 

At the mention of their names, Regulus realized how much he missed his friends. He had been close with Barty and Evan since first year, as well as Pandora and Dorcas, though Dorcas was a year ahead of the rest of them, in the same year as Sirius. He hadn’t seen them since the last day of the school year and felt a strong sense of grief overcome him. As if he was mourning the absence of his mates. 

They all were close. Closer than close. And though Regulus would never admit it- well not to anyone other than pandora; she always had a way of breaking down his walls- he found immense comfort in them. Having at least one of them come to visit would be nice, but he was getting ahead of himself. He had only just arrived at the Potter’s. It was far too soon to be inviting people over, no matter how hospitable this family was. 

“I should write to them”, Regulus said quietly to himself, almost forgetting James was there. Really though, he should have written to his friends sooner. They hadn’t heard from him in weeks. Dorcas probably was furious at his lack of reply to her dozens of letters. A twinge of guilt crawled its way up Regulus’ throat, but he swallowed it down with a swig of tea. 

“Do you have any parchment?” Regulus asked in a formal tone. 

Happy to be of service, James grinned, “Why yes, Reggie, I do have parchment.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Why not?”

“Because I said so, Potter.” 

“Hmm,” James hummed in reply. “Not a good enough reason Reg.” 

Regulus rolled his eyes harshly and stood up from his chair, stretching his neck in an oddly cat-like manner. When he looked back at the older boy, he found that he was already staring at him, or, more specifically, his neck. 

Yet another blush painted Regulus. Bloody hell, that was like the third one that morning. James abruptly cleared his throat, eyes focused on his tea much like Regulus’ were earlier. 

Interrupting the strange tension that had suddenly made its way into the kitchen, Sirius rushed into the room, eyes frantic. 

“Regulus? Oh, thank merlin,” he choked out, seemingly out of breath. “You’re here.” 

Regulus’ eye brows furrowed, “why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I don’t know- I just,” Sirius breathed. “I thought maybe you’d left. Your room was empty. I just- I thought you had… left”.

“No. I didn’t,” was all the younger brother replied. 

“Yes, well I can bloody see that now, Reg,” Sirius laughed incredulously. He made his way next to James and shoved him in the side. “No tea for me, Prongs?” He sighed dramatically.

“Oh, calm your tits. You’ll have your tea, Sirius,” James smiled fondly, in almost a maternal fashion. At that moment, Regulus saw Euphemia’s tenderness in James. It was utterly, disgustingly endearing. 

Regulus needed some air. James Potter was too much- James Potter made him feel too much. 

Not daring to address James again, Regulus turned to his brother. “Sirius?” 

“Yeah, Reg?” Sirius immediately answered, body turned towards him. Regulus hadn’t found the attention from his brother strange. Sirius had always been protective, only more so since last night. It was like he was afraid Regulus would collapse at any given moment. 

“J'ai besoin d'air frais,” Regulus chose to state in their second language, hoping for some privacy, seeing as James couldn’t understand French.

“Oui bien sûr. Par ici,” Sirius answered, leading Regulus to a back door. “One minute, Prongs. Just showing Reg outside,” Sirius called over his shoulder. 

Out in the fresh summer air, Regulus inhaled harshly, allowing the oxygen to flood his lungs and flush out his red face. 

“Thank you,” he told Sirius, who was watching him with concerned eyes. 

“Regulus, are you- is everything-” the older brother struggled to find the words without coming off as overbearing. “Can I do anything?” 

Regulus shook his head, still deeply breathing in June’s air. He took in the sight before them. Sirius had obviously taken him to the Potter’s backyard. Like the interior of the house, it was beautiful. The property was large; Silver Birch trees stood tall and a sizable lake could be spotted from where Regulus stood. 

“No,” Regulus finally answered. “I only needed fresh air.” He pushed some stubborn strands of hair out of his face, leaning against an exterior brick wall to the house. 

Comforted by his brother’s presence, Regulus allowed himself to relax. The events from the previous night as well as James fucking Potter were seriously fucking with his head. Merlin, he needed to get a grip. Another ‘thank you’ fell quietly from his lips and Sirius made his way next to him. 

“Of course,” Sirius answered, a tentative hand reaching out, grazing his little brother’s shoulder. “Of course,” he repeated. 

The brothers would spend the next 20 minutes standing like that in silence. 

Chapter Text

Regulus’ POV

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It had been about a week since his arrival, and Regulus had found himself in a bit of a routine.

He’d wake up before the sun and would read in his room until he was sure Sirius had awoken. Regulus couldn’t risk another early morning tea with James. In fact, Regulus hadn’t found himself alone with James since that first morning at all; he'd been avoiding the boy like the plague.

After breakfast, Regulus would join Fleamont with his potion studies. Potions had always been Regulus’ favorite course at Hogwarts, and, to put it frankly, Monty was a fucking genius when it came to the subject. His study was quite brilliant. Textbooks from around the world littered the floors, different equipment covered the room, and there were cauldrons everywhere.

Regulus was learning so much from the man, practicing new techniques and memorizing instructions that were unheard of. On top of the educational aspect of his time with James’ father, Fleamont was just comforting. He was a solid presence in the home. Never overbearing, never unkind. On the days where Regulus would simply observe in silence, Fleamont would deliver his findings in that of a lecture: like he didn’t expect a response, like Regulus could just listen and absorb his words at his own pace. It was refreshing and so different from Regulus’ own father, Orion, who ignored his sons like they were pests. Like they weren’t even worthy of him speaking to them. He treated Regulus and Sirius like one would treat nats in the summer air: unhappy with them but too indifferent to do anything about it.

By the time Regulus and Monty were finished, Effie would call for lunch, and the family would eat outside under the warmth of the glowing sun. Regulus thoroughly enjoyed the time outside and, as much as he hated to admit it, the loudness of the group. Effie and Monty would carry discussions with ease and Sirius and James would talk animatedly, often interrupting one another. It was a wonder to Regulus how the two could hold a decent conversation with how much they each loved to speak. But, somehow, Sirius and James just worked. It was truly one of the mysteries of the world.

Following lunch, Regulus would practice quidditch with the two idiots (as Regulus liked to call them), also known as Sirius and James. Though Sirius wasn’t on Gryffindor’s team, he was a hell of a flier, almost as fast as the other two boys. They’d spend hours in the air, tossing quaffles, attempting tricks. Well- Sirius and James attempted- Regulus would easily perform said tricks. He was a seeker, he knew how to handle such maneuvers.

It was… something akin to fun. Regulus enjoyed watching their antics. He also found that it was much easier to dodge James when in the air, as he was simply able to fly away whenever he pleased. The time with Sirius was nice too. Regulus was simultaneously annoyed and content with Sirius around him. Having his brother back in such a freeing environment was refreshing. And that was truly what the Potter home was: freeing. It was laughter and comfort and freedom all in one. Regulus couldn’t help but enjoy himself there, often catching himself smiling softly at absolutely nothing at all.

Once the boys’ bones were tired from the exertion of energy, James and Sirius would retreat back inside to do Merlin knows what. It was around that time that Regulus usually found his way to Euphemia’s side, helping her tend to the garden. He thought some help with planting herbs was the least he could do for the Potter’s hospitality. Maybe he shouldn’t have seen care as something so transactional, but it was the only thing he knew to do.

So, Regulus found himself planting Dittanies, powerful healing flowers, beneath the cool dirt. Effie had gone inside to prepare dinner while Regulus continued to work. The sun was beating down hard upon the young boy and beads of sweat had formed along his hairline. He hadn’t minded the brainless tasks like that of gardening, honestly, it settled the racing tendencies of his mind.

“Hey,” a light voice came from behind Regulus, causing the boy to jolt and drop his garden fork. Regulus turned around to find James smiling down at him.

James wore a tight, white muscle shirt, one he called -to Regulus’ astonishment- a ‘wife beater’. Regulus really didn’t care whose spouse was getting pummeled, James looked good in whatever it was. The sun made the older boy’s tan skin seem to shine. Regulus wanted to lick him.

Get a fucking grip, Regulus thought to himself. Breathing heavily through his nose, Regulus squinted at the boy.

“Potter,” Regulus regarded. To the Slytherin’s exasperation, James plopped himself down next to him, stretching out his legs. Regulus released a heavy sigh.

“You know, Mum loves having your help. She’d been heckling Padfoot and I for ages to get out here. Glad you're her new victim,” James laughed, twisting blades of grass between his fingers.

“And why, after such refusal, the sudden need to be out in the garden?”

“Oh, just checking in on the boy who's been avoiding me, that's all,” James replied easily, a sly grin stretching across his tanned face. Regulus’ face began to heat at the boy’s words. He really didn’t think James would care enough to notice his obvious evasion. Collecting himself, he glared at James.

“I wouldn’t waste the energy it takes to avoid a person on you. Don’t flatter yourself.”

James laughed loudly at that. Fucking hell, does this boy have some sort of a kink for being talked down to, Regulus wondered to himself.

“It’s like you like being insulted,” Regulus huffed under his breath.

Interestingly enough, James switched his attention to the herbs Regulus had been working on before he was so rudely interrupted. “Dittanies,” James observed. “One time your brother pushed me into that rose bush, just up there,” James smiled, pointing across the property to where Regulus assumed there was a bush of roses. Honestly, Regulus couldn’t be bothered to follow James’ finger, too distracted by his face. “And Mum had fed these pretty, little flowers to me raw. They heal shallow wounds, although I reckon Hellebores would’ve been more effective.”

“I never took you for a herbalist,” Regulus mused, forcing his attention back to the flowers.

“There's a lot you don’t know about me, Reg.”

“And when have I ever claimed to want to know anything about you, Potter,” Regulus scoffed, resuming digging into the soil. His back was starting to ache from the crouched position he’d maintained for so long.

“Oh, I can just tell you're aching to learn everything there is to know about me,” James teased. At yet another one of Regulus’ scoffs, James gently grabbed the other boy’s face in one hand, forcing him to look at him. “Don’t fight it, love. I actually think it agrees with you,” James smiled lightly.

James’ hand was warm on his face, and Regulus found himself wanting to lean into the touch. And the casual use of a pet name? No. That would not be happening. Nope. Glaring at him, Regulus grabbed James’ hand with his own and placed it back on Gryffindor's lap. James hadn’t broken eye contact with him once. Merlin, it was hot. Everything was hot. Regulus never needed a cold shower more than he did in that moment.

“Did Mummy never teach you to keep your hands to yourself?”

“There are a lot of things I can do with my hands.”

“Color me disinterested.”

“Now why is it that I just don’t believe you?”

“That’d be your ego clouding you from the truth.”

“Mmm,” James hummed, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, you aren’t avoiding me then?”

“No, Potter,” Regulus lied in a mocking tone. “I’m just not one of your little groupies that follows your every move like those back in school.” Regulus was a lying liar who lied.

“Ah, so that’s why you ignore everything I say to you? That's why you fly away from me when we’re practicing quidditch?” James questioned in an amused tone.

“Maybe I just don’t find our conversations stimulating. I don’t like to waste my time.”

“I’ll have you know I’m extremely stimulating.”

“Now why is it that I just don’t believe you?” Regulus mocked, parroting what James had asked just moments before. He sincerely hoped that his ridicule masked his fervor.

And James giggled. He fucking giggled. Regulus had never heard something so sweet. He wanted to fucking preserve that sound then punch him in the throat. Angry at the world for creating something as addicting as James Potter’s chuckles, Regulus went back to tending to the flowers, this time digging with much more force.

“Where’s my brother anyway? Isn’t this time of day reserved for you two to braid each other's hair?” Regulus questioned, confused as to why James was out there talking to him.

“I’ll have you know, hair plaiting time takes place quarter past 4,” James bantered easily. “But no, Sirius decided to take a kip, thought I’d come bother you.”

“Lucky me,” Regulus rolled his eyes.

“So,” James continued. “Pete and Remus arrive tonight.”

“I remember.”

“Yes, well Mum and Dad are also heading to visit the cousins in Devon in about an hour. They’ll be gone until next week.”

“Potter, you do realize I have ears, yes? I’m already aware of these things. I was there when they were discussed,” Regulus sighed exasperatedly.

“Oh, I’m very aware you have ears. They’re pretty too, a nice size. Not too small, not too big. And you’ve got a freckle on the shell of this one too” James rambled, hand reaching out to graze the beauty mark on Regulus’ right ear.

Regulus’ eyebrows scrunched at the ridiculousness of James Potter. Was he seriously going on about his ears?

“Are you seriously going on about my ears?” Regulus questioned, harshly pulling back from the other boy’s touch.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Regulus spluttered. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Get to the point,” Regulus scowled. When James gave him a confused look, Regulus realized he’d have to elaborate. “Peter and Remus? Your parents leaving? Merlin, how have you already forgotten what you were talking about?”

James' eyes lit up in recognition. “Right, right. Yes. Parents are leaving. Remus and Pete will be over after they’re gone,” James recapped. “So, invite your mates to come over Saturday evening.”

“Why?” Regulus questioned.

“Regulus,” James said, now the one of the pair who looked exasperated. “No parents. Empty house.” Now Regulus understood.

“I hate parties,” was all he replied.

“You just haven’t been to a good party, that's all,” James waved him off. Regulus debated arguing about how the Gryffindor’s parties were always mediocre at best, but decided against it. He just wanted James to leave so he could go back to gardening in peace and violently obsess over how James’ muscles bulged in his ‘wife beater’.

“Fine. I’ll write to my friends about Saturday.”

“Brilliant!” James clapped his back, hand resting there for a beat too long. And fucking hell, if James touched him one more time Regulus was going to pass out. The younger boy gathered his gardening tools and abruptly stood up, James’ hand falling from where it was previously placed. That was enough gardening for today, Regulus concluded to himself, making his way back into the house.

“Oi! Where’re you going?” James called after him, following Regulus inside.

“Away from you,” Regulus deadpanned. And James found that funny, laughing loudly behind him.

“And here I thought we were making some progress, Reggie.” Regulus could hear the smile in his voice.

“Call me ‘Reggie’ again and I’ll hex you.”

“You didn’t deny we’re making progress,” James taunted in a sing-songy voice. Choosing to ignore the imbecile behind him, Regulus made his way up the main staircase and into his room. James caught up quickly but Regulus slammed the door in his face before he could come any closer. A muffled ‘good talk’ was all Regulus heard in response.

The Slytherin locked the door, dove into bed, and groaned into his pillow.

And if he had a wank over James Potter’s friendly touches, no one would ever know.

James’ POV

----------

James barged into Sirius’ room and threw himself down next to his best friend's sleeping body.

“Siriussss,” he whined, gently jostling the figure beside him. A groan sounded from Sirius and his eyes slowly peeled open.

“You're a fucking prick, Prongs” Sirius spoke in a groggy voice. “I was having a dream. A nice dream if you may. And now you’ve woken me up before I could get to the good part.” Sirius stretched his arms above his head and rubbed at his eyes.

“Your brother is fucking impossible, mate,” James sighed distressingly, ignoring Sirius' theatrics.

“You woke me up to talk about Regulus?! This couldn’t have waited?” Sirius groaned, ever the dramatic. “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“You’re a wanker.”

“And yet you love me.”

“Fuck you.”

“I think that’d make Moony jealous,” James smirked. Sirius threw a pillow at him in response and James cackled manically.

Sirius and Remus were complicated, yet not complicated at all. Everyone knew they fancied one another, it was painstakingly obvious to anyone with eyes. Every look between the two was so charged; they looked like they constantly wanted to devour the other. James loved it. Watching his best friends fall in love was quite beautiful. It made James emotional to think about.

But it seemed everyone but Remus and Sirius knew their feelings were reciprocated. Merlin, the amount of times James had to listen to Sirius wail about how someone as ‘beautiful and lovely and kind and smart and sexy’ (Sirius’ words, not James’) would never want him back was ridiculous. And the number of instances where both Peter and James had to console a distressed Remus, who was pained that Sirius would ‘never love’ him back, was comical.

Peter and James had done almost everything they could to get either of the boys to just admit their feelings, but Sirius and Remus were stubborn little pricks. So, everyone with eyes had to simply watch the two boys tiptoe around one another, argue about the stupidest things because they were both sexually frustrated, and get jealous over other people even looking one of their ways. That was one of their specialities: jealousy. Both boys were extremely possessive of the other in the most obvious way. It was all very absurd to James, but he reckoned they’d make their way to one another eventually.

Maybe one day he and Peter would lock them in a cupboard, like they'd previously discussed, and not let them out till one of them cracked and admitted their feelings for the other.

“What about my brother did you so desperately need to talk about?” Sirius asked, sounding more awake at the mention of Remus.

Remembering his frustration towards Regulus, James threw himself harshly back on the bed. “He’s- he’s so- and he won’t- he’s just impossible!” James groaned.

“Very specific, Prongs.”

“Sirius, he runs aways from me. Like genuinely runs. I just want to talk to him. And he’ll just sit there, in your old band t-shirts that he’s practically drowning in, might I add, and he’s so- he’s just- arghhhhh” James cut his rambling off with a shout that he muffled in the pillow Sirius had thrown at him just moments before.

Sirius rubbed a hand up and down James’ back in a motherly fashion, tutting at his friend. “There, there, Prongs,” Sirius sighed. “Regulus is just a prick. Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but- well, he’s a right arse majority of the time.”

“I just want to talk to him, Padfoot! He barely gives me the chance.”

Sirius’ eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Eyes narrowed, he asked, “why is it that you want to get to know Reg so horribly, James?”

“Cause he’s my best mate's brother!” James exclaimed defensively. “I figure we should at least be friendly. Why else?”

“I dunno,” Sirius laughed, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s just- you’re putting a lot of effort into an unlikely cause, mate.”

James sat up, a serious look overtaking his face.

“Mark my words, I will make Regulus Black like me.”

Sirius bit his lip, trying to hold back another laugh.

“Don’t laugh, Padfoot!” James cried, rubbing his face furiously with his hands. “I’m being serious!”

“No, I’m Siri-”

“Oh, piss off,” James interrupted the joke- one Sirius made far too often- with a smile. Sirius stood up, stretched his body, and headed towards the exit of the bedroom.

“C’mon, let's go help Mum and Dad get ready to go,” Sirius said.

“Alright, alright,” James sighed, following after him.

Chapter Text

James’ POV

-------------

Emerald green flames vanished from the fireplace and James couldn’t help the shit-eating grin from spreading across his face. 

Don’t get him wrong, James absolutely adored his parents. Every day he felt unequivocally lucky to have been blessed by the gods with such attentive, loving souls as his caretakers. That being said, James was uncontainably excited to have the house all to themselves. 

Following a series of goodbyes and hugs, his parents had jumped inside their furnace and used a bit of Floo powder to visit their family up in Devon. They would be gone for an entire week- a Sunday to Sunday trip- and had left James, Sirius, and Regulus loose instructions on what to do while they were away. Effie and Monty assigned small tasks like tending to the garden, cleaning up after themselves, and essentially, just not burning the home down with their- as Monty so delicately put it- stupidity. 

James and Sirius were gathered in the living room, splayed across the sofas as they sipped on the lemonade that Effie and Sirius had made after dinner. Regulus had excused himself to read in Monty’s study, so it was just the two of them. Any moment now, Remus and Peter would be arriving through the Floo network. The boys had planned several trips to meet up throughout the summer, and this one had perfectly coincided with their parents’ vacation. 

Last summer, when Sirius escaped to the Potter’s, Remus and Peter made a point to come down as much as possible to offer comfort. Sirius had always found solace in company, something, James noticed, he did not share with his younger brother. Regulus seemed to thrive off of alone time- hence his absence at the moment. James respected it… to a certain extent. Afterall, he did need to be around Regulus to make some actual progress in winning him over. 

“You’re sure they’re coming today?” Sirius asked, anxiously picking at his fingernails. “In the letters, you wrote June 27th, yes? Sunday-today, right?”

“Yes, Pads. You yourself proof read those letters like five times,” James responded, smiling fondly at his worrying friend. He had a hunch Sirius’ nerves stemmed from the upcoming arrival of a certain scarred boy. 

Sirius was pacing the room when the fireplace erupted, causing him to jump and noisily fall into a nearby lamp. James was hunched over, laughing loudly at his best friend’s clumsiness, when Remus entered from the furnace with a bright smile. 

Remus had really grown into himself that past year. His once gangly limbs turned muscular and he had filled out in all the right places. Sandy brown hair framed his face nicely, the front pieces curled ever so slightly. Fading scars decorated his face but James thought they were hardly noticeable when next to the boy’s smile. Then again, James always felt blind to the imperfections of his loved ones.

“Hello boys,” Remus greeted them, unceremoniously dropping his bag on the ground. He looked around the room, spotting Sirius splayed out on the ground next to the fallen lamp. “The fuck are you doing down there, Pads?” Remus laughed. 

Sirius played into the dramatics, flattening himself even further into the ground and placed a hand across his forehead in faux distress. 

“Moony, I’ve clearly just swooned from being graced with your presence. Isn’t it obvious?” Sirius smiled up at him cheekily. 

“Isn’t it obvious,” Remus parroted in a teasing tone and made his way over to the other boy, offering a hand to help him up. 

James swore he saw a flush creep up his neck, and he smirked to himself. Once Sirius was back on his feet, all three boys met in a clumsy group hug, one filled with claps on backs and arms thrown around shoulders. 

“Welcome, Moony,” James smiled widely when they finally broke apart. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, no,” Remus replied easily, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans- he always preferred longer clothes, even in the heat, because of his scars. “When’s Pete coming?”

“Any minute now,” Sirius chimed in. 

As if on cue, the third burst of green flames that night came to life, and Peter strolled out of the fireplace with a duffle bag in hand. His light blonde hair had grown out a bit longer since last term ended, curling around his ears. 

“Lads,” the blonde regarded happily, throwing his duffle next to Remus’ and making his way over to the other boys. James smiled warmly at him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. 

“Petey boy, how are you?” Sirius asked, tousling his hair. 

Peter shoved him off with a happy smile and threw himself down on the couch. 

“The Floo makes me so nauseous. Give me a minute, boys, and I’ll be good as new.”

“No problem, Pete. Let me get you some water,” James said, making his way to the exit of the room. Merlin, he really needed to learn that water summoning spell.

With the excitement of being reunited with his friends, James practically skipped to the kitchen to get Peter that glass of water. James would happily do chores for his friends for the rest of his life if it meant making them happy. He thrived off of pleasing the people he loved, and just people in general. Being of service made him feel like he had purpose. Perhaps he shouldn’t have equated his worth with what he could do for others, but that wasn’t something he wanted to dive into at the moment. That’d be far too… emotionally taxing. 

In the kitchen, James opened the cupboard to fetch a glass. When he turned around he nearly dropped the cup from the sight of Regulus silently writing at the kitchen table. James walked right past him without even noticing his presence. 

“Christ, Regulus” James breathed out, hand held to his heart as if Regulus scaring him would’ve stopped it. 

Regulus looked up from his parchment regarding him, but couldn’t be arsed to put his quill down. 

“I thought you were reading in Dad’s study?” James asked, setting the glass down on the counter. 

“Wanted a change of scenery,” Regulus mumbled, his attention back to writing. Sometimes Regulus spoke so quietly James struggled to hear him even a foot away. 

James eyed his neat, curly scrawl. His handwriting looked like the font of the books James had read in Hogwarts’ library. Of course Regulus has perfect handwriting, James thought, shaking his head. 

“Why are you smiling and nodding to yourself?” Regulus questioned, his eyes still laser focused to the parchment. 

“How the fuck could you watch me whilst you were writing?” James questioned back, genuine bewilderment coloring his voice. 

“I’m a multitasker. One of my many talents,” Regulus replied dryly, obviously distracted by whatever he was doing. 

“What are you doing?” James curiously asked, moving over to the table and sitting down in the chair next to Regulus. 

The younger boy’s eyes snapped up at him and he glared. 

“Writing.” 

“To whom?” 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to it,” James sighed in exaggerated defeat, but amusement clearly tainted his voice. He snatched Peter’s glass off the counter and began to walk towards the kitchen’s exit. 

“James,” Regulus’ voice stopped him. 

“Yes?” James wondered, and he’d never stopped in his tracks so fast. 

One thing replayed over and over in his mind. 

He said my name. 

“You're carrying an empty glass,” Regulus said pointedly whilst continuing to write.

“Right,” James whispered, turning to go back for the pitcher of water. 

A deep sigh sounded from Regulus causing James’ attention to snap back to him. The Slytherin put his quill down, rose from his seat, and sauntered over to the older boy. 

Regulus’ cold fingers wrapped around the cup, grazing James’ own hand. James inhaled sharply, eyes tracking every movement the other boy made. 

Regulus whipped his wand out from his back pocket and pointed it at the glass. 

“Aguamenti.” 

James barely registered the glass being filled with water, hyper focused on Regulus’ touch. James didn’t fully understand why, but he was disappointed when the other boy pulled away. 

“Hey,” James said, remembering something very important (well at least to him). Regulus looked up at him, gray eyes sharply watching him. 

“What?” 

“You said my name,” James said, breaking out into a smile and pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

“No, I didn’t,” Regulus dismissed him.

“Yeah, you did,” James argued, full on grinning now. 

“I did not-” 

“Yes, you did,” James adamantly interrupted him. “You said it about ten seconds ago.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.” 

“Potter-” 

“I can’t believe you finally called me by my first name. I’m the king of the bloody world.” 

Regulus pointed his wand at the glass again and muttered, “evanesco”, making the water he had just filled disappear. 

That vanishing spell was an extremely difficult form of transfiguration, and James was impressed to say the least- slightly annoyed that Peter’s water was now gone, but impressed nonetheless. 

“Hey,” James yelped. “What’d you do that for?” 

“I didn’t say your name.” 

“You-” James started but was interrupted by Remus calling for him. James sighed, narrowing his eyes at the boy before him. “This isn’t over.” 

“Sure it isn’t,” Regulus replied, taking his seat once again and picking up his quill. 

James really didn’t want to leave, he was enjoying this … progress? Or whatever it was that was happening between him and Regulus, but he felt guilty for leaving Peter waiting. He’d been gone from his friends for much longer than deemed appropriate to fetch a glass of water.

Exhaling harshly, James exited the kitchen, making his way back to the living room. His thoughts were still consumed by Regulus when he handed Peter the glass. 

“Prongs?” Peter weakly questioned. 

“Yeah, Wormy?” James replied, distracted. 

“Where’s the water?” 

“Fuck.” 

Regulus’ POV

--------------

Regulus had just finished writing letters to each one of his friends. He had been putting the task off for a week now and decided it was finally time to inform his mates on the recent… developments in his life. Keeping the letters concise and formal- per usual- Regulus gave them to the Potter’s family owl and watched through the kitchen window as the bird spread its wings, beginning its journey.

Regulus stayed by the window for a moment, gazing at the evening sky and the stars that began to speckle the abyss. His star, ‘Regulus’, could not be seen at that time of year- best visible in late winter and spring. Regulus thought that was a shame, he would have liked to stargaze at it on the Potter’s property; its view was downright ethereal. 

The Slytherin replayed the interaction between him and James over and over in his mind. He didn’t know what came over him to be- what he considered- so bold. Going over everything they said made him cringe at his own words, face contorting and eyebrows scrunching as if to say ‘really, that’s the best you could come up with?’ Daily interactions with James Potter were going to be the death of him. 

Shaking his head, he decided it was finally time for him to greet Remus and Peter. It had been about an hour since their arrival and it was getting late. He wasn’t sure what the other boys would be doing, but Regulus planned to get some rest sooner rather than later. 

Regulus padded his way to the living room which, to his dismay, was filled with laughter and noise. Lingering at the entryway for a beat, Regulus inhaled deeply then walked inside. 

The first thing Regulus saw was James shuffling a deck of playing cards. The tip of James’ tongue was peaking out of his mouth, something Regulus noticed he did when concentrated. Regulus’ eyes zeroed in on his hand movement, how quickly he handled the cards, fingers moving with practice and efficiency. 

“Oi, Regulus!” 

Remus’ voice broke Regulus out of his trance and he (stubbornly) tore his eyes away from James. Regulus smiled tightly at the scarred boy. 

“Hello,” he murmured.

“Come sit,” Remus replied, patting the spot on the couch next to him. Regulus really didn’t want to- his social battery already felt drained, but he made his way to Remus’ side anyway, swallowing down the protests his mind so desperately wanted to voice. 

Regulus then noticed Sirius with Peter’s head in a headlock. Peter was laughing so hard he seemed to be choking. Regulus was genuinely concerned for his wellbeing at one point, but he seemed to be having fun. 

The rest of the boys appeared to be in their own worlds, leaving Regulus and Remus to conversate by themselves. 

“So,” Remus began in a calm voice. “How are you liking it here?” 

“Oh, uh it’s nice,” Regulus answered quietly. He had a hunch Remus wanted more than that four word answer but he was glad the boy didn’t press him on the subject. He just smiled and nodded.

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

The boys around them continued their antics as Remus and Regulus settled into a comfortable silence. And that- that was really what was nice. The pleasant quiet that echoed between their bodies. Being in the presence of another person without the expectation to talk. As lovely as the Potters were, James and Sirius, even Effie and Monty, seemed to always need a conversation to feel secure. Being around Remus was an agreeable change.

Much to his own surprise, Regulus was the one to break the silence. 

“Are you happy to be here?” He wondered softly, not wanting to break the gentle atmosphere they had formed between them. 

“Very,” Remus smiled and nodded to Sirius, who was having an animated conversation between him, James, and Peter. “Glad to see your brother- and James and Peter too, of course. Your brother and Peter and James. All of them. Yeah,” Remus stumbled on his words, a brilliant flush infecting his face. 

Regulus cracked a smile. 

“Right…” 

As the night went on, the group found themselves struggling to stay awake. Sirius and Remus ended up falling asleep while leaning on one another and Peter was snoring on the carpeted floor, leaving James and Regulus behind. They were sitting across from one another on the ground, only a mere foot away. If Regulus wanted to (he very much wanted to) he could reach out and touch. 

James met Regulus’ eyes and a lazy smile graced his face. And oh, did Regulus love that smile. His extremely sleep deprived brain almost convinced him to say something stupid about James’ grin, but his lips caught the words before they could escape. 

“What are you staring at, Potter?” 

“You.”

“Why?” Regulus narrowed his eyes. 

“You’re always asking the stupidest questions, Regulus Black.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Regulus scoffed, hoping to conceal his rising blush.

“Who were you writing to?” James asked through a yawn. 

“Huh?” 

“In the kitchen. Who were you writing to?” James repeated in a tone Regulus couldn’t place. 

“I told you, it’s none of your concern,” Regulus answered, confused by the relevance of this subject. 

James tiredly rubbed at his eyes. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” James offhandedly questioned, absolutely startling Regulus, whose eyebrows shot up high on his forehead. 

Regulus, who was very much gay and very much infatuated with the boy asking the fucking question, couldn’t help the bewilderment his voice was soaked in.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” James said casually. His tone was too casual, Regulus believed, and it was throwing him off. “If not a girlfriend, then maybe a boyfriend?”

“Potter.”

“Yeah?” 

“Why would I tell you?” Regulus asked, genuinely confused by James’ sudden interest.

“Well,” James spluttered, searching for the right words. Moments passed and James still hadn’t said anything.

“Exactly," Regulus concluded the conversation, rising to his feet. "I’m heading off to bed. Are we carrying the boys up or...?” 

James nodded hastily, seemingly forgetting his absurd questions from before.

Between the two of them, James and Regulus lugged Remus, Sirius, and Peter up the main flight of stairs and into their designated rooms. Peter was bunking with James and Remus was sharing with Sirius. Regulus, luckily, wasn’t asked to forfeit his room. 

After helping the three sleeping boys into bed, Regulus started for the loo but a hand reached out and stopped him. Warm fingers slid around his elbow and spun him around. 

“Just wanted to say goodnight, Reg,” James whispered. 

Regulus eyed James’ solid grasp on his arm, and he couldn’t help but like the feeling of the other boy’s touch. Smiling tightly, Regulus snatched his gaze back up to James’ deep brown eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” 

James laughed, letting go of the younger boy’s arm and holding his hand up in mock surrender. 

“Okay, Reggie.” 

James disappeared behind his bedroom door before Regulus got the chance to hex him for the nickname. 

“Fuck,” he whispered to nothing but himself and the empty hallway.