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Chapter Text

i.

Regulus Black, New York, 1920

Regulus yawned as he stretched out across a large velvet couch. He glanced at his watch, finding he’d slept later than he’d liked to have. He had a busy day and wanted to get an early start. But it looked like he was going to have to speed through his morning. 

He’d spent the night sleeping at The Emerald Lounge: Burlesque Club . The night before had been rather hectic, which was why Regulus opted to sleep at the club in one of the back rooms. This section was his space. He had a set of drawers hidden behind a red velvet curtain, where he kept an assortment of his things. The room had a large red couch, which was wide enough to sleep on. The space was rather comfortable, so much so that Regulus felt at home there. 

He could hear the light sound of people talking in the distance, accompanied by soft music. Regulus assumed the dancers had begun their rehearsals. They often spent their afternoons practicing before the club opened for the night. 

The previous night had been rather eventful. There was a group of rowdy men who needed to be kicked out. They had security who were more than capable of kicking out unruly men. However, they tended to lack the finesse Regulus had when dealing with wealthy men. Their clients spent a lot of money. He wasn’t above black listing men who treated their dancers poorly, but there was an art to this. They had to be careful to not get a reputation for upsetting powerful people. 

Some people would have hated the idea of sleeping at their work, but not Regulus. The Emerald was one of his favourite places in the world. He happily hid out there most nights. He had his own home, but was currently being forced to stay at his parents’ place. It was an unfortunate situation, at best. His parents’ home felt suffocating. The weight of their expectations hung around him whenever he was in their presence. 

He quickly changed and got ready to start his day. Regulus ignored his rumbling stomach as he made his way backstage. This was a long, narrow hallway with a series of supply closets and dressing rooms. He found a black door that had a silver plaque on it that read: Pandora . He lightly knocked on the door and then opened when she called toward him.

Pandora sat at her vanity, looking intently at the mirror as she pinned her blonde hair into a neat finger wave. She’d recently cut her hair into a short blunt bob and was learning how to style it. 

Regulus walked up beside her, watching her as she placed the last pin. “Here,” he said, gently grabbing her chin to turn it toward himself. With his free hand, he reached for a small metal tin and a brush. As he began to apply a shadow to her eyelid, he asked, “how’s rehearsals going?”

“Marlene keeps messing up her new number,” Pandora told him, pouting. “I keep having to tell her the same things. She doesn’t take corrections.” 

Regulus nodded sympathetically. “She’s new, it will get better,” he attempted to encourage. “Try to remember how nervous you were when you first started.” Pandora began working with him two years earlier. She quickly worked her way up the ranks, taking on more responsibilities until Regulus promoted her. Pandora was an integral part of the Emerald and, more importantly, one of Regulus’s closest friends. 

“I know…” she signed. “It’s just a lot. Ever since Dorcas quit, we’re down a dancer. Marlene has great technique, but she’s just not experienced enough. Those are big shoes to fill. Plus, everyone is nervous about prohibition. They’re scared to be working somewhere illegally selling alcohol.” Regulus understood their concerns. There was a lot at risk if the club got raided. However, he’d taken precautions to make sure that never happened. 

“We’ve always had illegal activity happening at the Emerald,” Regulus shrugged. “The police I spoke to are still willing to turn a blind eye. The dancers will get more comfortable as time goes on.” 

He placed down the tin and picked up a gold tube of lipstick and opened it, revealing the bright red product. “Give it a bit more time,” he told her, as he applied the colour to her lips. “I think she can do it, but if not, we’ll pull her from the number. We can put her into some of the group numbers until she has more experience. I’m sure one of the other dancers won’t mind taking the role. They’re always wanting more stage time.”

“Got it,” she said, visibly relaxing. “This is why you’re the big boss.” Regulus felt sick to his stomach, knowing a day would come where he wasn’t the boss. He’d have to give up the Emerald and everything he cared about soon enough.

“Sure, but we both know this place wouldn’t last a day without you,” Regulus chuckled. 

When he was done applying her lipstick, Pandora lent in close to her mirror, to examine Regulus’s handy work. “You really are brilliant,” she told him, her face lighting up. “Oh, I know what this needs?” she mumbled, digging into a drawer, before holding up a small compact. 

As she applied the final touches to her makeup, her eyes flitted toward him a few times. “Did you sleep here again?” When he didn’t reply, Pandora turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Reg, please go home. Get some proper rest.” His stomach squirmed with guilt. He hated making her worry. 

“I don’t want to,” Regulus sheepishly said, looking at his feet. “It’s getting worse the closer we get to Priori Incantatem.” His family line was entangled with a secret society of vampires, who took part in a ceremony on their one hundredth birthday. They would select one human to magically bind themselves to. Priori Incantatem was a ceremony of ownership — and once you participated, it was irreversible. Once, chosen Regulus would completely lose himself; he’d be moulded into whoever and whatever the vampire wanted him to be.

It was just his luck that his parents had a fanatical approach to Priori Incantatem. They viewed it as their duty to the family line. Walburga and Orion had been preparing him for years.

“You’re actually going through with that?” Pandora asked, her brows creasing. He could still remember the look on her face the first time he’d told her about the ceremony, she’d been completely horrified. It had never occurred to him that there was anything odd about the entire arrangement. But seeing the way her face contorted with shock and horror confirmed his deep suspicions; that his family was grotesque. 

Still, it wasn’t enough to make him step away. He had too much pride. He’d been raised to be loyal to his family. He was loyal to a fault. It would take a lot more than his friends’ disgust to turn away from everything he’d been raised to be. 

“I don’t have much of a choice.” Regulus shrugged. He’d accepted his fate a long time ago. When he was young, he’d dreamt of a life free of these sorts of traditions, but that had been when his brother was still around. After Sirius ran away, any hope of that was long gone. His parents focused all their attention on Regulus, and he shouldered it the best he could. He’d always been an obedient child; never wanting to upset his them. This blind loyalty continued into adulthood. 

When Sirius ran away at sixteen, his family happily focused all their attention on Regulus. They claimed they’d always known Sirius would never live up to his namesake. That they’d always suspected no one would ever choose him, anyway. But Regulus — he was the perfect candidate. He was easily malleable. They could bend him to their will. Where Sirius had been strong willed, Regulus was eager to please. He wanted nothing more than to be loved — to be praised — to belong.

“It’s your life-”

“Not anymore,” Regulus sternly told her. His life had been promised to someone else. Someone Regulus had never met, yet he knew everything about. His name was James Potter . 

His parents had spent an entire year since it had been announced he would be participating in Priori Incantatem. They’d spent hours researching him and turning Regulus into James’s perfect match. Regulus doubted there was any chance he wouldn’t be chosen by James. He was preparing himself for that possibility, which meant he’d created an entire plan for what would happen with the Emerald once he was gone. “And you better start preparing because someone has to take over running the club once I’m gone.”

Her face fell, and she fiercely shook her head. “You’re an adult,” she pushed. “You have your own money. You own a home and a business. You don’t need them. Tell them to fuck off. Do what Sirius did-”

“Enough, please,” he snapped. “I just woke up and I haven’t even eaten yet.” There was no point arguing with her about this. He’d tried in the past with no luck. They were too alike; both the friends were stubborn to their core. Once they got something in their head, it was near impossible to change their minds. 

“Fine,” she said, scowling at him. “But go eat some breakfast and at least sleep at your own damn house. You don’t sleep properly when you’re here and your parents are mental. They drain the life out of you. Please, just take a step back from it all.”

“Okay…” Regulus sighed. He didn’t see much of a point in staying away from his parents. He knew the stress would follow him no matter where he slept. But he agreed either way, not wanting to upset her. “Tonight I’ll stay at mine. I promise.”

Regulus made his way to the door, ready to go off in search of something to eat. When he reached the doorway, he turned and smiled softly at Pandora. His heart swelled, thinking of how much he would miss her once he was gone. Getting to see Pandora every day was an added benefit to having her as a manager. She was a good friend, who he greatly appreciated. 

“By the way,” he said warmly. “That rouge is beautiful on you.” 

He watched as her face lit, fingers grazing her cheeks. “Thanks,” she breathed. “You did all the hard work.”

He slipped out the backdoor of the club into the bustling streets of New York. The Emerald was located in a busy area that was full of shops and restaurants. It had been important to Regulus that it was located in a well-populated area. However, the front of the club looked completely unassuming. You needed to know it was there. 

It didn’t take Regulus long to find a place to grab some food and a coffee. There was a French bakery around the corner from the club. He loved getting pastries there. It reminded him of his childhood. His family spent some time in France when he was young. These were some of his favourite memories from his childhood. He and Sirius were preteens, and they’d been allowed to explore the streets of Paris on their own. They were young and the stresses of life hadn’t touched them yet.

Once he was back at the Emerald, Regulus slipped into a chair next to Pandora to watch the dancers rehearse. He could feel the tense, nervous energy in the air. Pandora wasn’t lying when she said the dancers were worried. However, he had faith things would blow over soon. They just needed a bit of time to relax into the new rhythm. Once they’d worked a few big evenings, they would see things were running similar to before the ban. 

Regulus sat watching them dance, whispering corrections to Pandora as they worked. Other than the nervous energy, the numbers were looking clean. Pandora was doing an amazing job of overseeing the dancers. This meant he would have time for other things. Which he was grateful for because there was a never ending amount of work to be done. 

Regulus went into the backstage area and sorted through a series of costumes that had just arrived. They were beautiful garments, shimmering with hand sewn stones and lace. There were large feather fans that were a staple in most burlesque dances. They were working with a new seamstress. She’d come highly recommended, and she didn’t disappoint. Regulus held up a beautiful beaded gown to admire it. It shimmered beautifully in the dim light. He couldn’t wait to see it under the stage lights. 

He spent some time sorting through the clothes, putting them onto different racks. He labeled them for different dancers and numbers. Until he was interrupted by the clearing of a throat. “Hey Reg,” he heard from over his shoulder. 

When he turned, he found Pandora’s twin brother Evan standing in front of him. The two siblings looked so similar. They both had the same lithe frame, light blond hair, and brilliant blue eyes. But the comparisons didn’t stop there, it came down to their mannerisms. They held themselves with the same combination of confidence and grace. Regulus always suspected Evan would have made a wonderful dancer as well. “Your shipment is here. Where do you want our guys to put it?” Evan asked. 

“Downstairs, in the room to the left of the costume storage space,” Regulus explained. They’d had to move their stock room to somewhere a little more hidden. While the police had agreed to turn a blind eye, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t have to pretend to do rounds occasionally. So while the alcohol wasn’t fully hidden, it needed to be out of plain sight. 

“You got it, boss,” Evan said, grinning. “I’ll let my guys know.”

“Thanks,” Regulus mused. “Also, I know you guys are lovely, but the dancers are a bit nervous right now. The changes in laws have got them a bit spooked. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Don’t worry, boss,” Evan shrugged. “We’ll kill ‘em’ with kindness. They’ll come around.” 

It had been a stroke of luck that Pandora’s brother got into the alcohol smuggling business. He and his friends were some of the warmest people he’d ever met. They’d found a way to not get completely wrapped up in the darkness of criminal activity. 

Evan kept his head down and didn’t get sucked into bigger things. He reminded Regulus of himself in that way. It would have been easy for Regulus to get dragged into more sinister activities, but he had no interest in that. There was an obvious line that he never wanted to cross. He had a substantial amount of respect for everyone he worked with, and that made all the difference. The dancers were Regulus’s responsibility to keep safe, and he never wanted to bring someone under the roof of the Emerald who would put that in jeopardy. 

“You’re the kindest group of criminals I’ve ever met,” Regulus teased. 

“Right back at you, boss,” Evan chided, before disappearing into the club. 

He finished putting the new costumes onto a rack and then brought them down to the costume room. When he was done, he went back into his space and got himself ready. He had a client that he needed to prepare for. He rarely took clients, but he couldn’t turn this one down. Everything needed to be perfect.

He spent a bit of time tidying his room up, removing any signs that he’d been staying there. Then he picked out what he was going to wear, set the music and made his way out into the bar to meet with the client. In the time he’d been in the back, the club had opened up. It was still early, which meant there weren’t many people in the space yet, only a few men sitting in booths or sitting along the bar. 

Regulus scanned the room, taking stock of who was there. He wondered which of the patrons was the one he was meant to be meeting with. He would surely be there already; waiting for him. He spotted Pandora standing lent against a pillar. She was watching the dancers on stage, taking mental notes of feedback she could give them after the performance.

“Where is he?” Regulus asked, as he approached her. He was doing his best to push down his nerves. It had been a long time since he’d had a client, and this had him a bit on edge. He knew once they got into the back room, everything would fall into place. The initial meeting was the worst part. 

“At the bar,” Pandora told him, with the nod of her head. “Black hair and glasses.” 

Regulus looked across the dimly lit room at the man. The noise from the guests and dancers slipped away. Whoever this stranger was, he was stunning. He was all tan skin and broad shoulders, his hazel eyes lit playfully as he tipped a cocktail into his mouth, chuckling at something the woman behind the bar said. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Pandora anxiously asked. Regulus looked at her out of the corner of his eye; she was sizing the man up. Despite her lithe frame, she was a force to be reckoned with. Many nights at the club, there had been men who underestimated her; it never ended well for them. She was one of the few dancers Regulus didn’t worry about. She could handle her own and she was an incredible sight on stage. 

Regulus bought the burlesque club a few years back. It was his first investment. One that took some convincing on his parents’ part. They were worried it might send the wrong message. But he’d been determined to convince them. He’d let his parents mold him into the perfect son. Sometimes he thought he hardly knew himself. 

However, the burlesque club was his .

Every dimly lit corner. Every costume. Every song played. It was all his — a physical representation of the person hidden under everything his parents had carefully constructed. 

There was a group of dancers on stage flirting with the audience. They had large feather fans, which they carefully moved as they danced. Regulus loved to watch the performers, to him burlesque was an art form. The dancers carefully chose their movements, fluid and teasing, while building anticipation from the audience. Most people had no idea how much work went into it. There were long days and nights where the dancers would rehearse, carefully crafting their scenes. 

“It’s fine,” Regulus reassured Pandora. “I like to dance.” In reality, it had been years since Regulus had been on stage. These days he only danced in the back, behind velvet curtains, and even that was rare. He knew everything to do with the club was precarious. His parents could take it all away at a moment’s notice. If they knew what happened in the back, behind those curtains… well, they would never approve. 

Regulus often fantasized about not being chosen . He knew the reality of that dream would be harsh. His parents would not be kind if those were the events to unfold. Still, the thought of being able to live his own life — free of his parents’ pressures — sounded more appealing to him than the road that lay ahead. Yet he would never pick that path. 

“I know you do,” Pandora softly said. “But we don’t know anything about this guy.” 

This was true. All their usual background checks had come up with nothing. It was clear he was using a pseudonym; Fabian Prewett . This wasn’t abnormal for people who frequented the back rooms. Few wanted their sordid behaviours connected with their true identities. However, they were usually able to dig up more information on a client. People typically didn’t do a good job of covering their tracks, meaning they could find a lot of information about them. This gave the club a good idea if they were willing to take them on as a customer. 

“It’s just one dance,” Regulus dismissed, shrugging his shoulders. “And he’s paying a lot .” He supposed he should be flattered. When the man contacted the club, he’d asked for Regulus specifically. It was such a large sum of money, they all expected it to fall through. Part of the issue was that Regulus only danced, he didn’t participate in any other activities that happened in the backrooms. Typically, people weren’t willing to spend that kind of money for a simple dance.

Pandora patted him on the shoulder before leaving Regulus to it. He walked purposefully across the club, sliding onto the stool next to the man. 

“Fabian,” he said, his lips quirking up at the edges. “I believe we have an appointment.” He tried his best to hide the nerves from his voice. It would do him no good if this client thought he was scared. Regulus knew better than that. He needed to stay in control at all times. 

Regulus burned with curiosity as the man’s intense hazel eyes locked onto him. His gaze swept down Regulus’s body, taking him in. He was wearing a perfectly tailored dusty lavender suit. The jacket had silver embroidery delicately woven over the fabric. It hung open, revealing the high cut of his pants and crisp white button up. His outfits weren’t quite as grand as the women’s costumes, but this was more his style. 

Simple. Classic. Elegant. 

He found Fabian’s hand, twisting his fingers into his, and pulled him in the direction of the back rooms. 

“Hello, Regulus,” he said from behind him. The timber of his voice was low and smooth. Regulus was surprised to find heat pooling in his stomach at the sound of it. 

Some people found burlesque to be inherently sexual, but not Regulus. He’d done countless dances where he didn’t feel any attraction to the subject before him. To him, dancing was gratifying, just not in that way. 

Despite this, Regulus knew this dance would be different. He could tell from the weight of the man’s hand in his, and how heat crept up the back of his neck. He needed to get it together, for fear of making a fool of himself once they were alone. This client was paying too much money for something to go wrong. 

The two slipped behind the floor to ceiling maroon velvet curtains into a booth. The curtains merely gave the illusion of privacy, while maintaining the feeling that they could be walked in on at any moment. The reality was the series of curtains had an intricate pattern to their layout. Two clients were never beside each other at any given time. The dancer never let onto this fact though; it helped keep the clients in line. 

Regulus’s section was deep within this system, in one of the back corners. There was hardly anything near him, which was by design. He needed to be in the quietest place possible inorder to be able to sleep there. At night he could hear distant sounds, but for the most part it was a calm quiet corner. 

The man settled on the plush couch across from him. Regulus sized him up as he fiddled with a cufflink. There was a low music playing through the space and Regulus found a good rhythm, as he turned his back to the man. “Care to tell me your real name?” he teased, looking over his shoulder. 

The man’s eyes lit as he flashed a wicked grin. “I’ll tell you if you do a good job,” he told him. “For now, it’s Fabian.” 

Regulus shimmied his suit jacket down his shoulders. He hadn’t been expecting the man to let on about his real identity; they never did. He did a quick sleight-of-hand trick, removing the jacket, while turning and holding it against his chest. 

Regulus found Fabian lent forward, leaning his arms against his knees. His mouth was slightly agape as he watched him. The rapt attention the man was giving him caused Regulus’s breath to hitch, but he recovered quickly. He was well trained at hiding his emotions. It had been a survival skill in the Black household growing up. 

He abandoned the jacket and began to unbutton his shirt, slowly revealing an illusion neckline covered in more silver embroidery and rhinestones. He saw the man’s pupils dilate as they skated up and down his body. 

The dance continued on. 

Regulus’s body arched and swayed to the music. He’d forgotten how good it felt to dance. This was a part of his life he would have to give up if he’s chosen. He’d miss it. It was another reason he secretly hoped he wouldn’t live up to his name’s sake. But these thoughts were buried deep within. They weren’t the sort Regulus would dare vocalize.

As he danced, he slipped away to a third plane; a place he only went to when he was dancing. He all but forgot the man’s presence in the room. Until he heard that low husky voice tell him to, “come here.” 

Regulus’s focus snapped back to the man before him. He stepped forward, the man’s hands finding his hips. He pulled him forward, Regulus’s legs parting around him. Regulus could feel the hard press of the man against his thigh, causing his breath to hitch. Fabian’s lips latched onto his throat, sucking at his pulse point, which left Regulus’s head spinning. 

He was almost naked now, but still there was a thin layer covering him. It wasn’t enough; this man could see everything . 

Fabian’s hands ran up along his legs, ripping the stockings from where they were attached to a garter belt. “Take this damn thing off,” he breathed, his teeth grazing the skin of Regulus’s neck. 

His teeth were sharp and caught in a few spots along the skin. The feeling caused a shiver to roll down his spine. He wanted the man to sink his teeth in — to take a bite of him — Regulus would probably let him eat him whole. 

In skilled, measured movements, Regulus reached back, pinching the clasp, letting it fall to the side. 

He’d never done this with a client. He had rules about this sort of thing. At that moment, he didn’t care, though. He was too busy trying to ride the high of the dance. Fabian’s fingers dipped below the waistband of his underwear, moving it aside to fist him. Regulus let out a low hiss as the man ran his thumb along the moisture collected along the head of his cock. He felt his cheeks heat under Fabian’s gaze. He felt very seen, because this man was observing him in his natural state — the person who dwelled behind all his Black Family upbringing. 

“Up for a second,” Fabian instructed, and Regulus immediately responded. He lifted himself up, giving him space to unbuckle his belt and push his pants down his thighs. As he settled back down, Regulus’s throat bobbed, wondering how far they were going to take this. Fabian must have noticed his hesitance, because he placed a comforting hand on the small of his back. “I’ll take whatever you are willing to give me,” he told him. “Nothing more.”

Biting his lip, Regulus told him, “just what we’ve been doing. That’s it.” It was a knee jerk reaction, but it felt right to set this line. This man had already bulldozed through every rule that was set for the meeting. He’d completely lost control of things. He needed to pull back, to get a stable footing. 

The man didn’t miss a beat. He nodded his head, wrapping his fist around both their cocks. He ripped a moan from Regulus, causing his head to tip forward into his collarbone. “Fuck,” Regulus whimpered.

“Quiet, baby,” Fabian said, his voice husky. “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear you moaning like that.”

Regulus frantically nodded his head, kissing up the man’s neck. His fingers pulled at his shirt, searching for skin, causing Fabian to chuckle at his neediness. 

They both buck their hips into the ring of Fabian’s fist. When Regulus pulled back, he was pleased to see the look on the man’s face. He looked completely wrecked; his black curls were tousled and his glasses were slipping down his nose, skewed to the side. Fabian’s eyes had fluttered closed, and he thrust up one last time before spilling over his fingers. The sight pulled Regulus over the edge with him. His hips stuttered, and he felt his body go taught in the man’s arms. 

Regulus sagged against his chest, melting into him. For a moment, he forgot where he was. It completely escaped him; he was naked, pressed against a stranger. He felt warm, his vision hazy. 

“James Potter,” the man whispered, his fingers tangling into Regulus’s hair. 

He froze hearing that name. James Potter . The name of the man his family expected him to be with. The man they carefully constructed an entire persona for. A man he shouldn’t have met in the back room of a cleverly disguised brothel. “What did you just say?” he spluttered. 

“That’s my name,” James told him. He grinned, clearly amused by his flustered state. “James Potter.”

His parents were going to kill him.

“What?” Regulus asked again, hoping this was some sort of cruel joke. Hoping maybe Sirius sent this man to fuck with him. That would be something his estranged brother would do. Sirius loved to play pranks, especially ones that Regulus failed to see the humour in. 

He scrambled back, quickly picking up his shirt from the floor. He could feel the mess on his stomach dripping down and wanted nothing more than to clean it up. But all he could manage to do was hug the shirt to his chest. Using the thin fabric as an attempt to cover himself. As if James hadn’t already seen him come completely undone. As if he hadn’t unraveled him with his own hands.

Regulus had simultaneously ruined his parents’ carefully constructed plan. While also losing any hope that James would simply be uninterested in him. He was not sure what he was more upset about. 

He watched as James wordlessly cleaned himself up. When he was done, James crossed the room, closing the space between them. He gripped Regulus’s jaw, tilting it up to get a better look at him. Their lips pressed together; it was the first proper kiss they shared. It was shorter and softer than Regulus assumed it would be. When James pulled back, he looked down at him, gaze reverent. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other soon,” he told Regulus. 

And then he was gone.

(Art by Eli)

Chapter Text

ii.

James Potter, London, 1920

James gripped the leather of his steering wheel, replaying the events of the evening in his mind. He’d been secretly meeting all the potential candidates for Priori Incantatem. It had been a slow and tedious process. The Hallows had given him a rather exhaustive list of people. Mostly because James had no bloody clue who to pick. Certain vampires prepared for this ceremony for years leading up to it. However, James didn’t have much interest in it. He’d completely forgotten about it until a senior member of the Hallows approached him a year prior. They were desperately clinging to their traditions and needed the older members to carry them out. It was heavily implied that he was meant to participate in this aspect of his membership. It seemed there were certain traditions that were falling away, but Priori Incantatem was not one of them. 

There would be an event run by the Hallows, where they would introduce him to everyone on his list. But James didn’t want to meet them at some stuffy party. He knew every single person there would be putting on a show. This was a song and dance he knew all too well. He’d grown up around wealth and power, after all. He knew how those types of people operated. They rarely showed authenticity at a first glance. And if James needed to spend his life magically bound to someone, he wanted to know them . 

So he’d opted to meet them under an alias. All of them had been completely unremarkable. He’d even contemplated choosing a random name out of a hat. 

That was until he laid eyes on Regulus Black. 

He was easily the most beautiful person James had ever met, but the attraction ran deeper than that. Regulus was enigmatic and radiated elegance. Despite the briefness of their meeting, James could tell he was clever, with a sharp tongue. At first glance Regulus was all hard edges, his soft bits carefully concealed, but as he danced for James, all of that melted away. James wanted to spend hours peeling apart Regulus’s layers, to get to know every facet of him. 

He hadn’t intended to take things as far as he had with Regulus, but one thing led to another. The moment completely got away from him.

The light emanating from the streetlights lining the road whipped by as James drove home. He’d grown to love New York in the month since he’d moved there. It was buzzing with life, people walking on the streets even late at night. It was so different from the calm, quiet life he’d lived when he was younger. 

He had his window rolled down and a light breeze flowed through the car, rustling in his hair. James was on a high after the meeting with Regulus. He felt good, and couldn’t wait to go back to the Emerald to meet with him again. However, his good mood was about to be dampened. 

As James turned into his driveway, he froze. His eyes locked on someone standing on his front porch. Barty Crouch Jr. leant against the banister. He grinned lopsidedly as he watched James park his car. When they’d met years ago, that same grin was what had made James fall for him. It used to cause butterflies to swarm in his stomach, but now it made him feel sick. 

James quickly parked his car and stormed out onto the driveway. He slammed the door behind him. “What are you doing here?” he said forcefully as he walked up the stairs. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Barty cooly explained. He was acting as if the last time the two had spoken they hadn’t gotten into an all out fight. The worst they’d ever had. James felt as though he’d made it extremely clear he didn’t want to see Barty ever again. And he was completely shocked Barty had the nerve to show up at his home. “I have nothing to talk to you about. I said everything I have to say.”

As James stepped toward him, he watched Barty’s face fall. “Who is it?” he hissed. 

“What are you on about?” James scoffed.

“I can smell him on you,” Barty snarled, his lips pulling back to reveal his teeth. He’d been so angry to see Barty standing on his porch that he hadn’t even thought about him being able to tell he’d been with someone. “Which one?” he demanded, glaring at James.

“You’re mental, you know that?” James said, shaking his head. He marveled at how different Barty was from when they’d met; he was almost completely unrecognizable. Back then he’d been sweet, almost boyish. Which was such a stark contrast to who he’d become. “You have no right to be here doing this,” James tutted. 

“I thought you said none of them would ever matter?” Barty incredulously chuckled, rubbing his temples. James recalled the night he’d held Barty, comforting him with those soothing words. He’d believed them at the time, but too many things had happened since that day. “You said nothing would ever come between us.”

“ You came between us,” James said, his voice wavering. He was desperately trying to keep his voice down, not wanting to disturb his neighbours. The last thing they needed was for someone to call the police on them. “You are the problem. Always have been.” He was being cruel, but this was also the honest truth. James would have still been with him if it weren’t for Barty’s own actions. 

“James, just tell me who it was,” Barty growled, looking feral. The look in his eyes made him take a step back, worried for Regulus’s safety. James actively chose not to kill humans, but not all of his kind were like this. He was well aware of the fact Barty had killed before. This had been an issue between them in the past. But it was rare for him to see him as the predator he was. He only ever saw the aftermath of his destruction. 

“Which one of those silly little humans did you pick?” Barty looked disgusted at the thought of him being with a human. A part of James felt bad. He really did. It was clear Barty hadn’t been expecting him to move on; to actually be with one of the people he might choose for Priori Incantatem. James was attempting to shove down his feelings of guilt, though. He and Barty were not together. He had no right to show up at his house and interrogate him about this. James was allowed to be with whoever he wanted. 

“I haven’t picked anyone yet,” James deflected. He was distantly aware he should simply push past Barty and go into his house. But he felt defensive and was having a difficult time backing down. 

“So you’re just running around fucking random humans?” Barty scoffed, throwing his arms in the air. His words made James cringe. Random humans. As if Regulus could ever be random. 

“Regulus and I didn’t even sleep together,” James explained, immediately knowing he’d made a misstep. Barty always knew how to get him worked up; in both good and bad ways. 

“Regulus?” Barty balked, his face contorted with rage. “Regulus Black? As in the Black family… who basically campaign for Priori Incantatem. You have to be kidding me. Have some fucking decorum, James.”

Something snapped in him, hearing Barty speak that way about Regulus. In one swift movement, he grabbed him by the shoulders and thrust him up against the wall. His lips pulled back into a snarl, baring his sharp teeth. It was rare for James to get physical with anyone, he never used his predacious instincts. It felt foreign to him. 

“You don’t know shit about Regulus and I,” he shouted. “It’s none of your fucking business. Just leave me alone. Stay away from me and more importantly, if you ever go near Regulus, you will regret it.” He knew it was ridiculous to act this possessive over a man he’d only met once. However, he knew Barty too well. He wanted him to understand how serious he was about leaving Regulus alone. James had fucked up enough by letting his name slip, and he didn’t know how to fix the situation. The least he could do was make it clear to Barty that he needed to back off. Let him know that there would be serious consequences for his actions if he went anywhere near Regulus. 

“Whatchu you gonna do, James?” Barty grinned, his head knocking back against the wall. “Kill me?” He chuckled, and it was a dry icy sound, lacking any genuine humour. James cringed at the sound, remembering the beautiful quality of Barty’s happy laughter. That laugh could be so full of exuberant joy. James had always loved his laugh. He’d have done anything to hear it. But this couldn’t be more different. It sent an icy shiver down his spine. 

“Stay. Away,” he growled, looking down his nose at him. “I’m warning you. Don’t test me on this.”

“I love it when you’re rough with me,” Barty chuckled, his lips twisting into a cruel smile. “We should have done this more often. Would have really spiced things up.”

“You’re sick, you know that?” James bristled. Barty had touched every part of his body, a fact that was at that moment making his skin crawl.

“You love me,” Barty taunted, a manic glint in his eyes. 

Finally, James pushed back, letting go of Barty’s shoulders. “We’re done here,” he grumbled, before leaving him on the porch. 

James should have walked away the moment he saw him, he should have been smarter about the situation. There would never be a way for James to win when it came to Barty. All he’d done was give him more fuel for his fire. 

Once in his house, James spent the evening stewing over the events of their encounter. He paced around his living room, fuming at Barty’s audacity. Replaying the conversation in his mind made him feel sick to his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to move on, and he wondered if Barty would ever let him do that. It had been nearly one hundred years, and he was still in his head, messing with him. 

By the time he fell asleep that night, he had a pounding headache, which only worsened the next morning when he woke up and learned Regulus had returned his payment to the bank. He had to resist the urge to drive over to the burlesque club immediately to find out why. He knew it would do him no good to storm over to his place of work to confront him. James waited until the club was open before making his way over. The least he could do was to go there during the actual hours of operation. 

When he got there, he found there were only a few patrons there. He sat himself in a booth while sipping on a glass of whiskey, watching the dancers. He had to admit; they were rather beautiful. The costumes and choreography were clearly planned down to the last detail. Based on his brief encounter with Regulus, he could tell the entire place had his fingerprints on it. It was so uniquely Regulus; beautifully crafted and elegant. 

He remained in his seat for about a half hour, watching the girls dance, until he finally spotted Regulus. He stood at the bar for a brief moment, speaking to the woman behind it. He was just as stunning as James remembered. His dark black waves were neatly pulled off his face, leaving his sharp features fully on display. He was wearing a simple black suit that day, which was understated in comparison to the one he’d worn for James’s dance. However, James was sure he could wear anything and still look stunning. 

Regulus quickly left the bar before James could speak to him. He slipped back behind the velvet curtains, in the same direction he’d taken James the night before. 

In a risky move, James got up from his seat and followed him back. It was lucky he had an excellent memory for directions because he lost Regulus within seconds. The back section was more complicated than it looked at first glance. He had to take several turns through a series of velvet curtains, till he found him again. 

The space looked more cluttered than the night before, looking more lived in. There was an assortment of blankets and pillows on the couch. As well, there was some clothing and personal items draped over a chair in the corner. A book lay open on the small coffee table in the middle of the floor. Everything James learned about Regulus had him wanting more; he had many unanswered questions. 

James’s eyes flitted around the room, taking it all in, before Regulus noticed his presence. He turned to face James, eyes narrowing on him. He had the good sense of feeling guilty for having followed him. He hadn’t realized this was a space that was his . He thought it was a room that was used by other members of the club as well. But it was clear from the state of the space that this was Regulus’s private room. 

“You can’t come back here uninvited,” he bristled. Behind his surly demeanour, James could see he was frightened. Regulus’s gaze was calculated as he assessed the situation, looking for a quick exit. James’s stomach squirmed with guilt. He felt terrible for the fear he was causing him. He knew he needed to do something to fix his series of missteps. 

“We need to talk,” James gently told him. He tried his best to keep his voice calm and even, not wanting to spook Regulus further. He wasn’t there to harm him after all. Regulus simply crossed his arms over his chest and glared at him. “The bank called this morning. I just wanted to know why you returned my money.”

“I don’t want to give you the wrong idea,” Regulus said, his voice tight. His body language was completely closed off and James supposed he understood. Regulus seemed like a very proud person, who wasn’t happy about having been tricked.

“Oh, really?” James asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I have the utmost respect for everyone who works here,” Regulus explained. “I am in no way above anyone who works in the back rooms. But James… you can not buy me.” His words were pointed and left little to be interpreted. He was not happy with him, and he wanted to maintain control of the situation. 

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” James diplomatically said. His eyes flitted around Regulus’s face, attempting to find a soft spot or a weakness. He just needed to find a small chink in his armour to try to get past the brick wall he’d built between them. He wanted to see that all slip away, to get a glimpse of the person he saw when Regulus was dancing the night before. 

“What gave you that idea?” Regulus sardonically asked, rolling his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” James earnestly told him, and he was. From Regulus’s perspective, the stunt he’d pulled the night before must have felt like a nasty trick and that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“What?” Regulus stuttered. Clearly not expecting an apology. James got the distinct impression Regulus wasn’t used to people apologizing for their bad behaviour. Or maybe he wasn’t expecting someone like James to say they were sorry. Which was a fair assessment when it came to wealthy men. However, his parents had raised him well. His mother, Effy, taught James from a young age the power of a genuine apology. 

“I’m sorry,” James repeated. “I didn’t mean to trick you.”

“I can’t possibly understand what you thought you were doing if you weren’t intending to trick me,” Regulus said, gaining his stride again. 

“I just wanted to meet you,” James sheepishly explained. “The real you. Not the person your parents trained you to be.”

“Well congratulations, James,” Regulus said. His voice raised an octave as he threw his arms in the air. “You met me. Was it everything you thought it would be?”

“You’re not the only person I met-”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Regulus scoffed. There was a small crack, a flicker of hurt across his angry features. “You think I feel better knowing you went around and hooked up with all your potential mates?”

“I didn’t…” James faltered. “I didn’t do anything with anyone else.”

“What?”

“You were the only one,” James softly told him, his voice a husky whisper. He didn’t miss how Regulus’s eyes flashed, and his mouth dropped open in shock. James got the impression that Regulus wanted nothing more than to feel special. Not just by James, but by anyone… maybe everyone . 

“Why?” Regulus breathed. 

James instinctively stepped forward, crowding him against the wall. “Because I couldn’t help myself,” he said, voice husky with want. “I know you feel it, too. This thing between us, it could be incredible.” He watched as Regulus’s eyes fluttered closed, taking in a steadying breath. 

There was that need again; Regulus wanting to be desired. When he looked closely enough, it was apparent that it was there, laying under the surface of every other emotion. It thrummed like a heartbeat. James wanted to find every person who’d ever made him feel not good enough and wipe them from the face of the Earth. 

When Regulus opened his eyes, James could see storms waging there — an internal war. He must have come to some sort of conclusion because he fisted the fabric of James’s shirt, causing their lips to crash together. 

Regulus was frantic, planting sloppy kisses along James’s lips and jaw. He worked his way down to James’s neck, drawing a low rumble out of the back of James’s throat. 

“Oh fuck me,” James gasped, as Regulus sucked at his pulse point.

“Sure,” Regulus mumbled, pushing him back. He shoved him back toward the couch, till he fell across it. He lay back, mouth hanging open as Regulus boldly climbed over him, legs splayed wide around his waist. James’s eyes were wide, his body pliant under Regulus’s touch. 

His throat bobbed, and he felt frustrated by the amount of clothing between them. “Take this off,” he grumbled. He pulled at Regulus’s suit jacket, attempting to peel it off of him. 

“Patience Jaimie,” he hissed. Regulus gripped his wrists, holding them down to bracket his face, reminding him who was in control in the situation. Still, James bucked his hips up, desperately seeking friction as his cock hardened. This caused Regulus to roughly grab his hips. He held them down, giving him a stern glare.

Regulus took his pointer and index finger and pushed them into his mouth, watching with rapt attention as James’s tongue circled them. “God, you really would take anything I give you. Wouldn’t you?” he absentmindedly asked. He sounded almost bored, but his eyes betrayed him. His pupils were dilated, and he never averted his gaze, not even for a second. It was clear the two were equally intrigued by one another. 

Regulus lazily pulled his fingers from James’s mouth and ran a slick finger along his bottom lip. “Quit toying with me,” James chided, but there was no heat behind his words. He would happily stay there, letting Regulus tease him for hours. He felt elated, thinking of all the filthy things they could do together.

“Watch it,” Regulus tutted, slowly unbuttoning James’s shirt. “You’re lucky to even be getting a second with me like this after that stunt you pulled.”

“I’m sorry,” James breathed. His back arched as Regulus ran his hands down his bare chest, hands settling on his belt. 

“I should leave you here like this,” Regulus mused. “It would serve you right. I don’t know if you deserve me.” This was probably true. He didn’t deserve Regulus — no one did — but he’d try his best to give him everything he deserved. 

“Please,” James begged, his head spinning. If this was what Regulus needed, he’d give it to him; he’d fully submit to him. “I’ll prove myself. I promise.”

Regulus’s lips curved into a coy smile. He stood, looking down at him, laying across the couch. James was sure he was a complete mess. This must have pleased Regulus, because his smile deepened. 

“Take those off,” he demanded, nodding toward James’s pants. James obediently reacted, shimming his pants and underwear down, kicking them to the side. He felt on display, as Regulus’s eyes skated up and down his body, assessing him. “Touch yourself,” he instructed. When James immediately reached between his legs to take his cock into his hands, Regulus let out a small puff of air. It was apparent to James that he was trying to see how far he could take things, and James was sure he’d let Regulus have everything he ever wanted. He’d crawl over hot coals if he asked it. 

Regulus unbuttoned his jacket and shucked it off to the side. Then shrugged off his suspenders and slowly removed the rest of his clothing. It wasn’t quite as dramatic as the dance he’d done the night before, but there was a fluidity to his movements. He had a dancerly quality that made James want to see him on stage. He’d loved the private dance Regulus had done for him the day before, but he could only imagine how incredible he would be under the stage lights. Regulus had an elegance that James found appealing. It was all in the way he carried himself; with confidence and grace. Watching him made James whimper and he had to grip the base of his cock to starve off his orgasm. 

He craned his neck up, watching as Regulus stepped toward him and gripped his hair. With his free hand, he grasped his cock and ran it along James’s bottom lip, causing him to whimper, “please.” James felt the moisture from his cock slide across his lips, making his mouth water.

In response, Regulus slid his cock over James’s tongue, into his mouth. His fingers ghosted over James’s cheek. His touch was gentle, and there was a soft intimacy behind his gaze.

 “James,” he breathed, working his cock in and out of his mouth. “I do feel it. This thing between us and I think you’re right about it.” The closer Regulus got to the edge, the more his stoney attitude melted away. 

James’s back arched off the couch, his body going taught. He never looked away from Regulus as his eyes travelled down his body. All of his muscles contracted, and there was a slick layer of sweat across his forehead, a bead rolling down his temple. His orgasm took him by surprise. James crashed over the edge, seeing white and when he was done, he was in such a daze that he hardly noticed Regulus coming down the back of his throat. 

Regulus’s fingers left his hair, and James muttered a string of curses. “Shit, that was…” he panted, catching his breath. “Fucking incredible.”

“Never given a blow job before?” Regulus chided. He quickly passed James something to clean himself up with. Then he flopped down onto the couch, his legs lazily crossed over James’s body. 

“Shut up,” James teased, reaching up to ruffle Regulus’s hair. “I’m pretty old. I’ve seen more than you could ever imagine.”

Regulus tilted his head to the side, taking James’s chin into his hand. He rolled his head back and forth, examining James’s face closely. He felt his cheeks heat under the weight of Regulus’s soft blue eyes. “You’re really one hundred?” He softly asked. Those days James spent little time around humans, he forgot how amazed they could be by these sorts of things. 

“Ninety nine,” James confirmed. He suppressed a laugh as he watched Regulus’s eyes widen. “Well, technically I’m older but The Hallows don’t count the human years. When you’re turned it’s considered an act of rebirth.”

“What were the 1800s like?” Regulus asked in awe. It was hard for James to remember what it was like to have only lived for such a short period. 

“Different,” James mused. He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. James had loved his life back then. There were many people and things he missed deeply. However, a lot of time had passed since those days and James also loved the way the world changed around him. “It was quieter back then, but still somehow more grand. One of the benefits of a long life is getting to see progress. But sometimes I miss the way things used to be. I lived in London with my family back then.”

“Are they…”

“They’re gone,” James confirmed, his voice cracking. No matter how much time passed, he still missed his family. They’d been the most important people in the world to him, and losing them never got easier. “They didn’t want me to turn them. I miss them every day. They were incredible people. Loved me for everything I am.”

“Even this ?” Regulus asked. He motioned between them, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Even this,” James confirmed. “I figured it all out after I was changed. Met a bloke who I fell in love with. My parents were lovely about it. Let him live on our estate with me and everything.” A soft smile tugged at his lips, remembering those days were accompanied by the sweetest sorrow. They were days of self-discovery and were filled with an unbelievable amount of love. However, James had spent many years grieving their loss, and had never fully moved on completely. 

“That’s hard to imagine,” Regulus shrugged. Sometimes James forgot the world wasn’t kind to people like him. Vampires had a different view of those sorts of things, which meant he was living in a bit of a bubble. He might have had issues with some of the Hallows behaviour, but when it came to this topic, he was grateful. 

“Your parents?” James mused. He knew they must be fine with Regulus being with a man, considering they were offering their son up to be with him. But James wondered how far that tolerance ran. 

“Don’t care who I am with as long as it’s a Hallow,” Regulus told him, a hint of bitterness in his tone. 

The comment piqued James’s interest. He’d obviously heard the rumours about the infamous Black family. James met Regulus’s cousins Narcissa and Bellatrix on multiple occasions; they’d been chosen years before. He’d only briefly spoken to them and found they both made him feel deeply uncomfortable. Narcissa wasn’t as bad as her older sister, but Bellatrix was completely unhinged. They’d first met when she was a human, and then again later once she’d been changed into a vampire. Changing her had surely been a mistake because she was a completely feral newborn. There was little anyone could do to rein her in. Not that Rodophus did much to top her. 

It wasn’t surprising to find that Regulus’s parents were obsessed with the Hallows. Still, James couldn’t imagine his own parents ever raising him to be offered up in that way. It made James sad to think of the environment he must have grown up in. Especially when he thought of his own parents, how supporting and loving they’d been of anything James ever brought to them. 

“Right…”

“So, what happened to him?” Regulus asked, carefully moving the conversation away from his parents. “The man you were in love with? What happened?”

“It was complicated,” James admitted. Being with Barty had been a complete rollercoaster, which was difficult to sum up. He’d been James’s first love, while simultaneously being his latest heartbreak. That was a lot to encompass without getting fully into the thick of things. 

“I cared for him very deeply,” he attempted to explain. “He taught me so many things about myself, but we weren’t meant to be. We weren’t aligned in many ways and he changed. Or maybe he was always that way and I didn’t notice. I find it hard to believe he was a bad person all along… but I know in the end that he wasn’t good .”

“I’m sorry,” Regulus said, with more genuine kindness than James would have expected. He ran his fingers along the ridge of James’s collarbone, in slow lazy movements. “Have there been others?”

“A few, but nothing comparable,” James explained. He’d had a long life. It would have been unrealistic to think he’d only ever been with one person. But there was something about Barty that no one else had ever fully lived up to. “What about you?”

“That is none of your business,” Regulus bristled, closing himself off again. 

“Come on, baby,” James pleaded. He rolled onto his side, pulling him against his chest. The heat from his body warmed him, as Regulus thread his hands against his waist. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Give me an inch.” Regulus remained tight-lipped, scowling at James. 

“Please,” James whispered, lightly kissing the bridge of his nose. “Your story is safe with me. I promise.”

Regulus’s face softened at his words, and he drew his lip between his teeth. “When I was young, I wasn’t allowed to date,” he explained. “But I found ways around it, as most young people do. No one who ever really mattered that much, though. Mostly just silly young love.” James cringed at the notion of young love being silly. His own young love had followed him for nearly one hundred years; in both good ways and bad. 

“Don’t underestimate the power of young love,” James told him. He remembered lazy days on his parents’ family estate. There had been soft days of sex in the grass beside the lake. Blushing faces and whispered words left James wondering if anything could ever compare. “It’s all new and exciting. There’s power in that sort of idealism.”

“There’s a power in maturing,” Regulus mused. “I would never trade idealism for stability. If you ask me, I want a steady sort of love. One where I know and trust the person I love completely.” James’s lips parted at the statement. He’d never thought about love that way. If he was honest, he’d always been chasing that shiny new feeling that came with young love. He’d never stopped to think there could be merit in the domesticity of the kind Regulus spoke about.

“Do you think you’ll get that if you’re chosen for Priori Incantatem,” James asked. The question was an obvious misstep.

A pained expression flickered across Regulus’s sharp features, but he caught himself. Regulus quickly shook his head, his body completely closing off. “That’s enough,” he said, making his way to his feet. He quickly turned his back toward James and began dressing. “Well… this has been…”

“Don’t lie, baby,” James teased, attempting to lighten the mood. “I know you enjoyed yourself.”

“I have to go,” Regulus told him, roughly tossing James’s clothes at him.

“Same time tomorrow?” James asked. He was pushing his luck, and he knew it. 

“Fine,” Regulus curtly said. “But I meant it. You can’t come back here uninvited. Wait for me on the floor.”

By the time James left, he was brimming with kinetic energy and unable to calm down despite his efforts. He wished Regulus had let him stay, that they could have remained twisted together all night. He wanted to feel the rise and fall of Regulus’s chest against his hand, and the gentle beat of his heart. Instead, he was in his car driving across town to a Hallow’s party. 

He didn’t want to be at a pretentious party full of status obsessed vampires, but he didn’t have many other options. Other than going home, which he didn’t think he could stomach, not when he was so keyed up.

The party was being held at a large manor home. It was drafty and dark, all the drab decor made the place feel suffocating. The entire building was full of vampires wearing black, billowing robes. James was one of few people who was wearing a casual knit sweater, with a button-up shirt and tie below it. It was a miracle that these ostentatious vampires remained inconspicuous. 

The silver lining to the event was his friend Peter was there. He found him standing in the crowded party room. “Hey mate,” he huffed, pushing his way toward him. “How’s your night?”

“Lost big tonight on the tracks,” Peter said, pouting.

“I’ll never understand your obsession with horse racing,” James chuckled. “All you do is lose money-”

“James,” a lazy voice behind him drawled. He turned to find Tom Riddle. He was a young man, physically at least, he had sharp cheekbones and fluffy chestnut brown hair. He’d been around James’s age when he was turned, yet was hundreds of years older than him. Riddle was one of the upper members of the Hallows. Someone who James had always found intimidating.

He was wearing a dark green set of robes, with hand detailed embroidery looping down to the edges of the fabric, which made him look formidable. Riddle led him to a private study, closing the door behind them. “We have officially organized your gala,” he explained to James. “This way you can meet your potential candidates for Priori Incantatem in a more intimate setting.” 

James stifled a laugh at the thought of a Hallows party being intimate. He knew it would be another evening just like this. Only he and Peter wouldn’t be allowed to hide in a darkened corner. He’d be on full display. James had agreed to the entire thing previously, only now he didn’t see a point. He knew he was going to choose Regulus. Nothing could change that. “No need,” James said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I already know who I want to pick.”

“James, these sorts of things must be done in a specific way,” Riddle told him, looking down his nose at him. “You said you had no potential candidates, which is why we created a list. We have reached out to the families and planned an event.”

“What’s the point if I already know?” James wanted to roll his eyes, but he thought that would be undignified. “I don’t want to lead anyone on.”

“These are our traditions,” Riddle explained, refusing to back down. 

“With all do respect-”

“Respect would be following our traditions,” Riddle told him. “Would you have me call all these families to take back our invitation?” James felt it was disrespectful to lead on unsuspecting people. He’d already made his choice. The party would be completely useless — an absurd show of opulence. 

However, he didn’t feel like pushing the matter. He wasn’t there to make any waves. “No, sir,” James told him, his head dipping submissively. 

“Very good,” Riddle drawled. “We will provide you with all the details at a later date.” Then he wordlessly motioned toward the door, dismissing him. As James reached the door, Riddle thought better of himself and asked, “oh James, just out of curiosity who is it? Who did you pick?”

“Regulus Black.”

“Hm…” Riddle hummed, sounding surprised. Then a neutral mask slipped into place, and he said, “I suppose any Black is a worthy pick. Enjoy your night.”

Chapter Text

iii.

Regulus Black, New York, 1920

“He’s here again,” Pandora said, pursing her perfectly painted plum lips. She was bound to notice James’s presence. He’d been there every day for the last week, after all. 

“I may have noticed,” Regulus admitted, never glancing up from his clipboard. He was sitting cross-legged back stage, taking inventory of all the makeup and which dressing rooms they needed to be distributed to. James had been sitting at the bar for over two hours, but Regulus kept him waiting. He refused to go running the moment he saw him, even if a part of him was happy to see him show up again. He wasn’t ready to confront that reality yet, so instead, he made him wait. 

A part of him wondered if one day he’d make him wait too long, if he’d never come back. The thought brought forth a swirl of complicated emotions, ones that Regulus couldn’t quite parse through.  

“Reg, what are you doing with him?” Pandora pushed. She cocked her hip and wedged her hand into its dip. “This isn’t a good idea. He doesn’t even pay.”

“Why should I make him pay?” Regulus huffed, placing aside the clipboard. It didn’t look like he was going to get any work done. “I don’t work the back rooms.”

“It looks like you are. You might as well make some money off the situation. He’s clearly willing to pay,” she said. Of course, James was willing to pay. He’d stormed into the Emerald a week prior to demand to know why his money had been returned. But it didn’t seem right to take his money, plus he was trying to prove a point. 

“I don’t need the money,” Regulus explained. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of James paying him for sex. Regulus had zero judgments for any of his dancers who worked the back rooms, however he was sending James a message. He meant it when he said James couldn’t buy him. “I have a trust fund, and the club is bringing in more than enough money.”

 “People could talk,” Pandora continued. “What if your parents find out?”

Regulus laughed, really laughed, at the thought of his parents finding out he was sleeping with James Potter. “Then they should be happy,” he scoffed. “They’re getting what they want.” This was everything they’d ever dreamt of. There was little anyone could do to stop James from choosing him for Priori Incantatem. He was completely infatuated with him and that wasn’t burning out anytime soon. 

“Is he what you want?” Pandora incredulously asked. 

“Does it matter?” Regulus lent back, leaning into his hands. He looked up at the ceiling, unable to meet her gaze. 

“Yes,” Pandora firmly told him. “It might not matter to anyone else, but it matters to me. I care about what you want.” 

Regulus’s throat bobbed. Sometimes he felt no one in the entire world cared what he thought. Her statement overcame him. It meant a lot to know there was someone — even just one person — who cared about him in this way. He wished he was the sort of person who could tell their friends he loved them. Instead, he simply rubbed his temples and scrunched his eyes closed. 

“There’s no space for my wants in this,” Regulus told her. “It’s clear we’re drawn to one another, but I can’t be certain of what’s real and what’s not. At the end of the day, none of that really matters. The outcome will be the same.”

“But-”

“No offense, Pandora,” he sighed. “But I’m tired. I’ve been working all day and I’m seeing double trying to sort out this makeup. Can we skip the lecture for today?”

“Reg, I didn’t mean to lecture you,” Pandora said, her voice softening. “Here, let me do the rest of that inventory. Go spend some time with him. Figure out what you want.”

Regulus slowly nodded. “Sure,” he chuckled. “That won’t be difficult at all.” He’d only had his entire life dictated to him. Figuring out what he wanted was next to impossible. 

Still, as he made his way to the bar to meet James, he was determined to figure out his place in their dynamic. This could determine the rest of his life — potential longer than a lifetime — an eternity. He owed it to himself to at least know how he felt, at a minimum. 

James was sitting on his usual stool, waiting by the bar, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Regulus slid his hand onto his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Hello Mr. Prewett,” he teased. “Care to join me?”

“Always,” James said, his voice low and smooth. He looked up at him from under his lashes. Everytime James looked at him, it was as if it was the first time — his eyes lit and his pupils dilated — there was a raging fire behind his gaze. Regulus couldn’t help but melt from the heat. He needed to get James alone before he came completely undone, right there on the floor in front of everyone. 

His fingers trailed down James’s biceps, eventually lacing them between James’s. “Come?” he whispered, tugging on his hand. 

“Hold on,” James chuckled, amused by his eagerness. He tipped the remainder of his drink down his throat and made his way to his feet. 

Once they were safely behind the velvet curtains, Regulus pushed James back, splaying him across the couch. “Stay,” he absentmindedly mumbled after slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ll be right back.” 

He slipped behind a curtain and quickly changed, fastening a silk robe around his waist. When he returned to his room, he found James naked, a blanket twisted up around his body. “Offley presumptuous, don’t you think?” Regulus teased, his lips quirking at the edges. He had to admit he didn’t mind the view. He could get used to having a scantily clad James in his bed every night. 

Regulus walked toward him, slowly tugging the blanket away. Inch by inch, he revealed more of James’s naked form. Regulus’s heart hammered in his chest, his head dizzy with the anticipation of what was to come. He might not know what he wanted emotionally from James, but Regulus knew he wanted this . Sex was simple. An innate base need — a primal want. 

He carefully climbed back over him, spit down onto him. Once his cock was slick with spit, Regulus easily sank down onto his cock. They’d had sex the night before. Regulus took his cock with some difficulty. He should have taken a minute to prepare, but relished the slight burn. James’s head tilted back, and when a surprised gasp escaped his lips, it was all worth it. 

“You look lovely,” James breathed. He tugged at Regulus’s robe, causing it to fall open.

“No, I don’t,” Regulus chided. He’d hardly slept the night before and he’d had a long day at work. He must have looked a complete mess. “But thanks.”

“I mean it,” James said, running his hand up his stomach. “I’m lucky to have you all to myself.”

Regulus batted his hand away, swiftly pressing his wrists into the couch, bracketing James’s face. He reveled in how easily he could bend James to his will. He slid his palm along James’s chest and up his neck, squeezing lightly as his fingers curled up around his jaw. Regulus could feel his throat bob under his palm. James could shake him off in an instant. He was much stronger than him. That’s what made it so thrilling. To have someone that powerful under his thumb. 

“I am not yours,” Regulus whispered, his lips grazing the shell of his ear. 

James let out a low displeased groan, but he ignored him. His grip around James’s throat tightened as he picked up his pace. He pulled himself up and dropped down onto James’s cock in quick, fluid movements, their bodies contracting together each time. 

James lay back and watched him dazedly, his lips bitten red, parted in awe. No one had ever looked at him the way James did; with such an all-consuming reverence. 

The energy between them that night was tense and heady. Mere attraction falling away — revealing a raw struggle for control. 

In a sudden swift motion, James flipped him onto his back, Regulus’s head falling back against the couch with a thud. His eyes widened in shock. He placed a firm palm into the centre of James’s chest, firmly pushing him back. He was frightened. There was no hiding it. 

The moment James realized, he pulled back, obviously feeling bad for the reaction he’d caused. Still, Regulus quickly crawled away till his back hit the couch’s armrest. His knees pulled up to his chest, and he cradled his arms around them.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” James whispered, like he was speaking to a wounded animal. He carefully reached out, lightly placing his hand on Regulus’s ankle. “Come here, relax. I will take care of you.” Regulus didn’t detect any deception in his tone. His words were sincere; he hadn’t intended the misstep to be aggressive. 

He experimentally straightened his leg, causing James’s hand to slide along his skin, inching higher up his thigh. Carefully, James tugged on Regulus’s other leg, positioning his hands on Regulus’s hips. He was staring expectantly at him, waiting for Regulus to dictate his next move. 

“You want to take care of me?” Regulus incredulously asked, furrowing his brow.

“Yes.”

“You can try.” Regulus inched forward, rolling his eyes. His every instinct was telling him to run and never look back. Yet, he couldn’t walk away. “I don’t really need anyone to take care of me, though.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t nice,” James told him, nudging Regulus’s cheek with his nose. “Go on then. How do you like it?”

“Dunno,” Regulus mumbled, his cheeks heating. He wasn’t used to talking about his desires, especially not with someone he’d only just met. 

James sucked at his pulse point, his hips rolling into him. Regulus went boneless as James continued to suck bruises into the column of his neck. He was leaving marks, but Regulus didn’t care. He’d have to stay away from his parents for a few days, however, that was a welcomed excuse to not go home. James was just that; excuse after excuse stacked until he’d become one big fucking problem. 

He obediently sucked at James’s fingers as he lazily slid them into his mouth. When he pulled them out, Regulus knew what was next to come. His body tensed as James pressed his index finger into him slowly. “Relax,” he breathed against the shell of his ear. “God, you’re so tight. Don’t ever fuck me when you’re like this again.” Regulus nodded, his eyes fluttering closed, consumed by the feel of James’s fingers inside him, one by one opening him up. 

Regulus gasped as James kissed his neck and stomach, working his way down… His back arched as James’s tongue darted in, lapping around his fingers. Regulus moaned and whimpered freely. As James worked his free hand over his cock, he saw white. He couldn’t even remember his own damn name. At that moment, he was no longer a Black, his entire existence washing away.

He drew in a shuddering breath as James ran his tongue along his stomach, cleaning the come that he’d spilled there. 

Regulus expected that to be the end, but James was far from done. He spent the better part of an hour coaxing moan after moan from his lips. James had fucked him in every position possible and made him come multiple times. Regulus was sure he’d kissed every inch of his body by the time they collapsed into one another.  

“Reg,” James breathed, holding him close to his chest. “How was your day-”

“I’m tired, James,” he huffed. James tended to talk after they had sex. It was normally the time Regulus was the most vulnerable. Not that day, though. He’d had a long day and had a terrible sleep the night before. “I don’t feel like talking much, sorry.” 

“Oh sorry,” James said, biting his lip. “Normally we talk. I just thought…”

“No, don’t feel bad,” Regulus encouraged. “Just busy sorting out things behind the scenes for the club. It’s been a lot. I need to get a good night’s sleep and I struggle to fall asleep.”

“Why don’t you go home?” James suggested. “You’d probably get a better rest there.”

“I’m living with my parents currently,” Regulus shrugged. “Can’t exactly go there now that I’ve got all these marks on my neck.” 

James sheepishly chuckled in response, running a finger along a bruise he’d sucked into Regulus’s skin. “You don’t have your own place?” he pushed.

“James,” Regulus said, a warning in his tone. He didn’t feel like explaining this to him. It was better if he didn’t know where he lived. He knew James wouldn’t show up at his parents’ house, but he wasn’t certain he’d have the same restraint about Regulus’s own home. It was best if he kept that buffer; a place he could go to retreat.

“Okay,” James conceded. “Can I stay with you till you fall asleep?”

Regulus’s throat bobbed. “I suppose, but you can’t stay the night.” James nodded his head and kissed his temple. He ran his fingers into Regulus’s hair, soothing him until he drifted off to sleep. He dreamt of tan skin and hazel eyes, but just as James promised, he was gone in the morning.

Chapter Text

a.

James Potter, London, 1821

A light fog had settled through the streets of London, and the roads were slick with rain. James Potter had stumbled out of a pub and into the chilly night air. He’d gotten separated from his friends hours ago, but didn’t go home. The thought of laying down in his bed, in his too quiet home, felt suffocating. He had too many thoughts rolling around inside his head. His vision blurred at the edges as he stumbled down the street, attempting to find another pub. One where the music was loud and there was hopefully a pretty girl he could take home. 

He found himself in the unmarked streets, the section of town that people had always warned him about. However, he had little to be afraid of these days. Hardly anything could hurt him — he was a thing made of darkness — the thing most people feared. 

It was reckless for him to have gone out that night. He didn’t have the control he should have had. It was an even bigger risk to get drunk, but James needed to get out of his own head for a bit. He felt he was going mental cooped up in his home all by himself. 

As he walked, James heard the distant thrum of music. He headed down a side street, quickening his pace toward the sound. The music got louder as he approached, finding a busy street that was crawling with people. Gas lanterns lit the road, pedestrians walked back and forth, and the occasional horse-drawn carriage drove by. Little shops and pubs bustled with people, despite the late hour. James eye’s danced around the street, taking it all in. 

His eyes landed on a tall brick building; it had no windows, only a door, and the sign above it read: House of Ill Repute . James couldn’t tell you what led him there. Perhaps an inexplicable force drew him to it; could it have possibly have been fate? But he found his hand resting on the brass doorknob. He jiggled it a few times before the door swung open. He cautiously made his way into the building, finding a bar and lounge. It was teeming with life, men drinking and laughing together. 

His eyes narrowed on a couple of men sitting across a chaise lounge, their limbs intertwined. Their hands danced across each other’s skin artfully. The one man’s head tipped back as the other whispered something into his ear. Even in the dim light, James could see the man’s cheeks flood crimson. 

“Oi, who are you?” someone shouted behind him. A crease formed between James’s brows as he turned to find a man standing with his arms folded over his chest. 

“I’m Ja-”

“Fucking shit,” a second man said, clapping his hand onto James’s arm. “Don’t tell him your real name.” His arms felt hot under the man’s touch, and James felt his neck prickle. 

“Jason,” he settled on, shaking his arm free. James’s thoughts were thick like syrup as he attempted to understand what he was seeing. The only thing he knew for certain was this was no ordinary pub.

“Where’s Stan?” the first man huffed. “He was meant to be watching the door.” 

“Dunno,” the other man shrugged. He planted his hand on the small of James’s back and gently applied pressure. “Come on.” He tilted his head at the door and led James in that direction. A cool rain whipped against his face as they made their way back onto the street. Even once they were outside, the man kept his hand firmly planted against James’s lower back. “I don’t know who you are,” he hissed, continuing to lead him. “But you can’t just go wandering into a sodding  brothel.”

“Brothel?” James spluttered. “Those men? They were?”

“Gonna shag?” The man chuckled, clearly amused by his naivety. “What? Posh boy, like you never went for a tumble with a boy? Would have thought you boarding school lads were all about that.”

“I didn’t go to boarding school,” James mumbled to his feet, his face flushing. “I had a governess.” He’d spent most of his life around other wealthy people, but he knew well enough that he was lucky. His parents came  from money, his father had worked his way up through the local government which meant they were well connected. But they’d made sure he understood the privilege he had from a young age. 

The man exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “So you’ve got real money then, eh?” he tutted. 

They turned down a street and then walked around the back of a building. The man took him down a set of stairs until they were in a small basement flat. It was the smallest apartment James had ever been in and that included the servants’ quarters in his own home. It consisted of a bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom. The only place to sit was either in the kitchen around a small wooden table, or on the bed in the room. The man steered him into the bedroom and motioned for him to sit. 

James awkwardly clambered onto the bed. He was beginning to sober up and was starting to feel uncomfortable with the turn of events. “I really should get going,” he told the stranger. He didn’t think it was the smartest idea to spend the night with a man he’d met in a brothel. 

“Oh no, you don’t,” the man scoffed. “I’m not gonna be responsible for you getting mugged out there, or worse. You can stay the night.”

“Can’t you just walk me back to-”

“Jason, I’m knackered,” the man scoffed, flopping down onto the bed next to him. He pulled at his pillows, adjusting them under his head.

“James,” he corrected, kicking off his shoes. “My name is James.” He eyed the spot next to him, wondering if he was meant to lie down. He hadn’t fully committed to the idea of staying the night. The man seemed nice enough, and James was usually an excellent judge of character. Still, he wasn’t in the clearest head space. 

“Come on,” the man grumbled, pulling on his arm, causing James to fall back next to him. “I’m Barty.” He pulled the blanket over them and then rolled onto his side, studying him.

James glanced over at Barty, finally taking him in for the first time. He had a boyish quality to him, a lanky build, and a lopsided grin. The bridge of his nose had a smattering of freckles littered across it. Fluffy brown hair messily topped his head. James thought back to the men he’d seen earlier that night. He wondered what it would take to make Barty’s cheeks flush red like that. Imagining how it would feel to run his hands across his thighs, his back, his…

“I should just go home,” James insisted. “I’ll be fine. There’s nothing out there that can hurt me.”

Barty laughed dryly. He told him, “even people like us can be hurt.” The comment confused James. People like us . There were very few commonalities between himself and Barty. His brows drew together, rolling onto his side to face the other man. He examined his face a little closer, finally noticing his sharp canine teeth. James couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed that he’d missed it. He must have looked like a bumbling idiot; mistakenly barging into a brothel and not being able to identify a vampire.

“How did you know?” James breathed. He still found it hard to notice the subtle difference between his kind and human. It was by design that vampires were difficult to spot. That’s what made them such successful predators. Their only real weakness was fire, which they didn’t encounter often, so it didn’t feel like much of a threat. 

“It’s not hard to spot a newborn,” Barty shrugged. “They don’t quite know how to hide their tells yet. When were you changed?”

“A month ago,” James admitted. He felt extremely vulnerable admitting this to a complete stranger. James hadn’t even told most of the people in his life. All he’d been able to do was shut himself away from the world; hiding from his new reality. 

“Have you killed yet?” Barty bluntly asked, causing James to cringe. 

“Yes,” James said, his voice cracking. “It was a part of my induction.”

“Induction?” Barty asked, his eyebrows raising.

“Yeah, the Hallows changed me.” James rolled onto his back again, his eyes scrunching closed. He tried not to think about that night. It was all a blur. There were a few things he was sure of, though. Someone kidnapped him in the middle of the night. He experienced blinding pain and then they released him onto the London streets feral. There was so much blood. James still heard their screams when he slept at night. 

“Shit mate,” Barty gasped. “You’re not supposed to admit to that. Did you miss the secret part of secret society?”

“I don’t want to be one of them,” James huffed. As far as he was concerned, they’d robbed him of a life he’d very much loved. He’d have to watch everyone he cared for die and then continue on living with that grief for the rest of time. Not to mention the human lives he’d shed. James hadn’t killed since that first time, but he wasn’t sure how he would continue on. It was only a matter of time before he snapped. 

“You don’t turn the Hallows down,” Barty curtly told him. James flinched at his words. He hated having his free will stripped from him in that way. 

Still, James sighed, knowing he was right. “Do you kill?” he asked. He’d never met another vampire before; at least not one that wasn’t a part of the Hallows “How do you live so close to this many humans?” James had basically barricaded himself in home, kicking out all the servants. His parents were concerned about him, but he didn’t want to think of the alternative.

“Naw… I mean, I have,” Barty explained. “I’m not exactly opposed to it. Oh, don’t give me that look. Most humans kill animals for food. It’s the circle of life… I get blood from a doctor in town once a week. I don’t mind killing, but you can’t live in close proximity to humans and go around killing them all the time. It raises too many suspicions.”

“Oh…”

“I can give you the name of my guy,” Barty offered. 

“Thanks.” James nodded appreciatively, knowing the help would go a long way. It gave him hope that he may be able to manage a somewhat normal life. Barty seemed to mingle with humans, which meant that it was possible. Perhaps James just needed to find a balance. 

“Okay, I gotta go to bed,” Barty softly whispered. “Good night, James.”

“Good night, Barty.” James laid awake staring at the ceiling for a long time. He heard Barty’s breathing slow and knew he’d finally fallen asleep. James continued to lie there for a long time before sleep finally took him. 

That night, James dreamt of freckled skin and hazel eyes. He dreamt of the feel of soft fingertips along the skin of his back and stomach. And in the morning James jolted awake, squinting as the morning sun streamed through a small window. He could still feel the ghost of his dream, the light touch of a hand along his lower back. His pillow felt harder than he remembered. The soft scent of sandalwood enveloped him. 

“Morning, love,” Barty mumbled, his voice husky with sleep. James lifted his head an inch, suddenly realizing his cheek was flush against Barty’s chest. He felt his face burn red, and his mortification grew as he realized their limbs were twisted together. Barty’s hand had snaked up under his shirt, rubbing lazy circles into his back. 

“Sorry,” James awkwardly mumbled. Heat swept through his cheeks, and he could feel it crawling down the back of his neck. His mortification only grew as he realized he was hard, his cock lightly pressing against the side of Barty’s leg. “Uhhh… thanks for letting me stay over, but I should get going.” He untangled his legs from Barty’s, quickly sitting up. Then he quickly turned his back to him, hoping he didn’t notice the deep blush that was surely flooding his cheeks.

“No need to be embarrassed, love,” Barty chuckled. “I don’t mind a little cuddle. You’re pretty fit.”

He rubbed his forehead. It was throbbing, the sign that he’d had a bit too much to drink the night before. He didn’t stick around long after that. Barty walked him back to the edge of town, hardly saying much. Just simply flashed a crooked grin and a quick, “see you round James.”

🖤

He didn’t think it was likely he’d ever see Barty again, seeing as they didn’t exactly run in the same circles. He had no intention of returning to the House of Ill Repute any time soon. James thought about it often. It would have been so easy to stumble back down to Barty’s home. Sometimes he wished he was a bolder person, that he’d be able to admit his obvious attraction for Barty; to be able to openly pursue it. However, it all felt so foreign to him. It made him feel nervous and inexperienced. So instead he was determined to stay away, but it seemed the universe had different plans for him. 

In the years to come, he’d often think back to their second encounter and think it changed the trajectory of his entire life. There were too many things Barty had awoken. 

It was a rare sunny day in London, about a month after he’d stumbled into Barty’s home. His parents took him to a large outdoor market that had popped up nearby. There was an assortment of local artisans, with booths lining the street. They had handmade jewelry and clothing scattered on their tables. Little odds and ends, or handmade art.

Effy and Monty were pleased to see James back to his normal self. Since he’d been collecting blood from Barty’s contact, James was socializing with them more and he’d allowed the servants back into his section of the estate. He’d even been out on a promenade with a woman he was meant to be courting. 

That day, when they’d asked him to join, James eagerly agreed to go. He was determined to not miss another moment with his parents, knowing there would come a day where he’d be without them. Which would be followed by endless years of missing them. James’s family was extremely important to him. Even as a human, he would lose them eventually. That was a sad reality of life. However, the thought of facing an eternity without them was daunting. He wondered if there would be a day where the memory of them was so distant that they hardly felt like real people.

They walked through the market, stopping at a few stalls. His mother picked out some jewelry for herself. While his father bought a few things for his friend’s birthday presents. The sun beat down on James’s shoulders as he absentmindedly strolled through the street. He’d recently fed, which made it easier to be around this amount of humans. Still, the back of his throat burned, a dull ache he was learning to live with. 

He felt more hopeful by the day that he would be able to live his life as he pleased — co-existing with humans. He was aware most of his kind lived in close proximity to humans, however, most of them weren’t interested in pretending to be one. The Hallows all seemed to avoid interacting with them; feeling they were above them. 

James shouldered his way through the crowd, realizing he’d gotten separated from his parents. His eyes narrowed as he turned on his heel, attempting to find them in the sea of people, but they weren’t anywhere to be seen. 

“Oi,” he heard from behind him. The sound was distant, yet he instantly recognized the low husky tone. He thought of Barty often, and hearing his voice in person could never compare to the memory. It did things to James that he wasn’t ready to admit, even in the private of his own thoughts. “James,” Barty panted, pushing past a few people to get to him. He smiled broadly as he caught his breath. “Noticed you all the way back there, almost lost you in the crowd.”

“Sorry,” James said, surprised he’d gone through the trouble to track him down. Barty made no attempts to keep in contact with him after they’d met. So, he had reasonably assumed he didn’t want to see him again. James’s stomach flipped at the realization that Barty cared enough to follow him in a busy crowd. “I didn’t see you. What are you doing here?”

“One of my friends has a booth,” Barty explained. “I was helping him by working the table. Done for the day now.”

James rubbed the back of his head, admiring the way Barty’s eyes shone in the sun. They were a soft hazel colour, but now that he saw them in the sunlight, he noticed flecks of green. He stood there for a moment too long, silent and staring. A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Barty’s lips. “Did you-”

“Oh, there you are,” Effy huffed, grasping James’s shoulder. “Your father’s back there buying some soap.” She turned to look at Barty, her brows creasing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Is this your friend?”

“Barty Crouch Jr.,” he said warmly, holding out his hand. When Effy slid her hand into his, he held it to his lips, lightly kissing the back of it. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Lovely to make your acquaintance,” Effy told him. Then she turned back to James. “I’m going to go check on your father,” she chuckled. “Make sure he doesn’t spend your entire inheritance on soap. You can meet us back at the house.” She smiled, clearly glad to see James socializing again. 

Once she was gone, Barty ran a nervous hand through his hair. “She seems lovely,” he said. “Does she know?”

“Can we not…”

“You should tell her,” Barty insisted. “She’s going to notice. Trust me, it’s better if she hears it from you.” James’s throat bobbed and he glanced around the busy road. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t, not there. “Walk with me?” Barty suggested, clearly picking up on his hesitance. They walked in companionable silence through the market, till eventually the crowd thinned out.

When they were finally the only two people on the street, James glanced sidelong at Barty. “How old are you?” he wondered out loud. The thought had only just occurred to him to ask. He wasn’t used to being around other vampires. The Hallows were the only ones he’d ever met, and they’d pretty well left him alone since he’d been changed. He figured they’d come for him eventually, but he wasn’t exactly sure how being a member worked. A part of him hoped it wasn’t compulsory, like maybe they’d forgotten about him completely. 

“Seventy one,” Barty informed him. James coughed a bit, choking on his tongue, he didn’t look a day over twenty-five. 

“How were you changed?” James asked, trying to compose himself. 

“It was an accident,” Barty explained. “A vampire was trying to feed, found me on the street at night. I was alone when he attacked, but then a large group of people came through. He got spooked and ran for it. I almost died from bleeding out, but managed to crawl home.” A shiver ran down James’s spine as he recalled the pain of being changed. While the Hallows weren’t the best company to have, he was glad to at least know other vampires after being changed.

The two continued to walk to the edge of a park. Small paths wound through the lush grounds. Sculptures and fountains were scattered throughout the area. Trees and bushes lined the gravel path, giving the feeling that they were in a secluded area. Occasionally, you could hear the sound of distant voices, but for the most part, they were completely alone. Finally, they stopped in a small circular area with a large fountain in the middle. They sat in the grass bordering the area. 

As they sat, the two had shifted to speaking about their lives. Barty’s life couldn’t be more different from his. His family had been rather poor, and he’d worked hard to give them a better life. He worked odd jobs here and there to elevate their status. 

“Do you work at the brothel?” James asked, a bit nervous to bring up the topic. 

“Naw… I’m friends with a lot of the men there,” Barty explained. “People give them a hard time, but they’re good blokes. I like to grab a pint with them from time to time.” James laid back in the grass, resting his hands behind his head. “Why? You willing to pay?” 

“Excuse me?” James spluttered, coughing slightly. “I never said-”

In a swift movement, Barty rolled over him, his legs spreading to straddle him. “I only ask cause I was gonna tell you there’s no need,” he teased, looking down at him. Barty’s hand bracketed his face as he watched him closely. James was sure he could see the uncertainty there. The blush across his cheeks and the nervousness in his eyes. 

Barty slowly dipped his head down, breath hot across James’s lips, their foreheads resting together. “You’re so goddamn earnest,” Barty breathed, shaking his head. “Don’t ever lose that, love.” 

When their lips pressed together, James felt like an electric current ran through him. It was like every cell in his body was alight; like he’d completely woken up for the first time in his life. The kiss was sloppy and frantic, as his hands found Barty’s waist. James had kissed girls before. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy it — but there was a distinct difference — even if James couldn’t put his finger on it. 

A low moan rumbled out of the back of this throat. It was wild and needy; a sound he’d never heard himself make before. His hips bucked up, searching for some kind of friction. The heat of their bodies pressed together was delicious, and it left James wanting more. 

However, everything came to a screeching stop as the sound of laughter drifted toward them.  

James felt like he’d had a bucket of water poured on him. “Ahh fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back. He frantically pushed at Barty’s hips, attempting to push him away. 

“They’re on the other path,” Barty mumbled against the skin of his neck. Still, it was too much. The reminder of the world outside the little bubble they’d been existing in was enough to make James want to bolt. 

Barty stilled and pulled back. He looked down at him, studying his face. “Alright then,” he patiently said. “I’ll slow down.”

He rolled back into the grass but slid his hand into James’s. They lay there feeling the heat of the afternoon waned and continued talking about their lives. Barty’s hand never left his, and he continued rubbing his thumb slowly into the back of James’s. 

They met regularly after that; going for walks through the city, or making out in parks. Or the occasional night curled together in Barty’s bed — these were his favourite days. His other days were spent with his family or courting a woman named Emmeline Vance. She was a close family friend and was first in line as a marriage prospect. His mother was in charge of arranging James’s courting process. She was quick to pick up on his apprehension about the entire thing. Effy had been lovely about it. She assumed he was nervous in the same way another young man would be. She promised him his nerves would ease over time. 

Before his first date with Emmeline, his mother sat him down and told him, “don’t stress about it. You’ll figure it out. If you don’t have a connection with her, you don’t have to ask her to marry her. Try not to put that sort of pressure on yourself. Let it happen naturally, that’s what happened with your father and I.”

Her words did set his mind at ease a bit. He knew his parents would never pressure him to marry someone he didn’t love. But he did wonder if they would accept anyone he fell in love with. 

It was early September and the grounds of the Potter’s estate were chilly for the first time. James pulled his scarf a bit tighter around his neck. Emmeline was casually walking alongside him. She was extremely pretty, her dark black curls were pinned off her face. She was wearing a light blue a-line dress; the top was covered with a Spencer jacket to keep her warm. 

“Your family’s estate is beautiful,” she warmly told him. There was a large main building which his parents lived in. When he was young, he lived in the main house with them. However, as he’d gotten older, they built a small home off to the side of the gardens for him. Effy loved gardening and spent a lot of time focused on making their grounds feel beautiful. She worked with a landscaper on a regular basis to expand them. This meant you could go on long walks through the gardens without ever having to leave the grounds. 

“That’s mum,” James told her, the admiration clear in his tone. 

“She’s throwing a ball next week, right?” Emmeline asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “I got the invite.” It was a loaded question, a fact James was well aware of. He knew what he should do, and yet he wasn’t certain he could bring himself to do it. He supposed he could have a perfectly lovely life with her. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she was pretty or nice. It just didn’t feel right . Something was missing. 

“Yeah… it should be a lovely night,” James settled on. He could see the disappointment on Emmeline’s face, causing his stomach to twist with guilt. It left him wondering how often he would be expected to do this — how many pretty girls would walk next to him, only to be sent home disappointed. He knew many of them would think it was their fault, that was what society had taught them. But it wasn’t their fault, not really. James merely wanted something they couldn’t give him. 

The rest of their promenade passed with an uncomfortable energy, and James was glad to put her in a carriage to send her home. As he stood and watched her go, he knew there was only one person he wanted to go to the ball with. He lingered outside waiting for their driver to return, and once he did, James went off to Barty’s place. The driver eyed him cautiously as he exited the carriage, clearly wondering if he’d brought him to the correct home. James nodded his head and then sent him home. He hoped he wouldn’t mention the visit to his parents. He didn’t know how he would explain himself.  

He rapped his knuckle on the door, hoping he would be home. When the door pulled open, James’s breath hitched in his throat, as Barty answered the door. His hair was ruffled, and he had sleep in his eyes. “Did we have plans today?” he asked, yawning. 

“No,” James said, looking down at his feet. “I wanted to give you this…” He pulled a cream coloured envelope out of his pocket. It had a deep red wax seal enclosing it, and on the other side Barty’s name was scrolled in neat cursive writing. James had been carrying it around for days, trying to build up the courage to give it to him.

Barty took it into his own hands, rolling it back and forth. “Come on in,” he mumbled. The two shuffled into the kitchen, and Barty motioned for him to sit at the table. He rummaged around in his cupboard, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Then he lent into the counter taking a sip of it, eyeing James from across the room. “What is this, James?” he curtly asked. 

“Why don’t you open it?” James suggested, biting his lip. He’d thought Barty would be excited, or at least intrigued by the invitation. Instead, he looked as though he wanted to light the thing on fire. 

Barty drew in a shaky breath before carefully tearing the seal open. His eyes scanned over the invitation, his brows creasing. “James, I can’t go to this,” he finally told him. 

“Why?” James asked, his throat bobbing. 

“For starters, what the fuck would I even wear?” Barty scoffed. “You damn well know I can’t afford to buy something suitable. This is sort of shite of you to pull this stunt.”

“I’ll put your name down on my account at Madam Malkin’s,” James explained. He’d expected him to not be able to afford something to wear and had already contacted the shop. James didn’t care about the money. He wanted to spend the night with Barty and was willing to spend whatever money was necessary. “You can go there and get everything you need.”

“Are you daft? I’m not your boyfriend,” Barty spat. “You’re not courting me. You can’t dress me up and play pretend. You won’t even let me fuck you.”

James scratched the back of his head. “Why are you being such a prick about this?” he said, his voice cracking. James felt his eyes sting, and he knew he was dangerously close to crying. “I told you I just need some time. I’ve never…”

“I know,” Barty sympathetically sighed, his voice softening. “Sorry. It’s just… I don’t know what you want from me. You can’t possibly expect me to go to this ball with you. What am I going to do all night? Stand there next to a bunch of strangers and watch you dance with some pretty girl?”

James’s shoulders slumped, realizing what the entire thing must have looked like from Barty’s perspective. He made his way to his feet, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of him. “It’s not like that,” he told him, rubbing his shoulders. 

“I thought you could come and we could drink together all night. Maybe you could meet some of my friends. Then we could end the night by going out into the gardens where we could dance…” He paused, pulling Barty closer to him, feeling his body melt into his chest. “Then we could go back to my place and see where the night takes us.” James’s head dropped into the crook of his neck, kissing along the skin there. 

Barty hummed, his body wavering, head tilting back. “I’m sorry I freaked out,” he breathed. His hands fisted James’s shirt, bunching the fabric as James sucked up the column of his neck. “I’ll go to your silly dress shop and get something to wear. But you’ll have to teach me all the little rules. I don’t want to look like a complete tosser.”

“As long as you teach me other things ,” James said suggestively. 

“Deal.”

🖤

When the night of the ball finally came, James felt as though he was going to jump out of his skin. As he walked down to the front of the estate, his palms felt clammy. He didn’t understand why he was nervous. He’d spent countless nights with Barty. But most of their time had been spent in Barty’s world. He’d never come over to James’s house, or spent time around his family and friends.

It was a cool night, but the bite of winter had yet to come. Still, James wished he’d worn a jacket to wait outside. He stood eagerly, watching as guests unloaded from their carriages. He politely waved and greeted people as they walked into the building. Finally, one of the Potter family’s black carriages pulled up. His heart hammered in his chest as the door opened and Barty climbed out. He was wearing one of Madam Malkin’s finest. A pair of cream slacks with a white cravat and an emerald green waistcoat. 

He flashed James a lopsided grin. “Not too shabby Potter,” he chuckled, looking up at the home. “How do I look?” He held his arms out, spinning on the spot.

“Brilliant,” James told him, resisting the urge to kiss him. He wished he didn’t have to pretend they were simply friends — that he could treat him the way he would a date — to kiss his hand or lead him into the estate with a hand gently resting on the small of his back. Instead, he looped his arm through Barty’s and directed him into the building. 

They walked through the front foyer, hearing the sound of music in the distance. “This is my parents’ home,” he explained. “I grew up here, but now I live in another building on the property.”

James studied Barty’s face as they stepped into the ballroom. His eyes danced with wonder, taking in the space. It was now filled with people, some who stood off to the sides, others dancing in the centre of the room. There was a band in the corner whose sweet melodies filled the night air. The space was dripping with crystals and other decor. His mother spent days preparing with a team of her staff. The Potter’s events were always the talk of the town, and this one would be no different. 

“Blimey,” Barty gasped, causing James’s smile to deepen. “I knew you were posh, but damn, this is something.” 

He rocked back and forth on his heels, causing James to chuckle. “Fancy a drink?” James offered, leading him over to a punch bowl. 

The night went exactly as James had suggested. They spent the night holed away in a corner of the party, drinking and laughing. Barty was surprisingly good at keeping up with the surrounding guests. He knew exactly when to turn on the charm and when to hold back in conversations. For the most part, the two stayed mostly to themselves, but his parents did come over and speak with them. Effy surprisingly remembered Barty from the market. While Monty had a good natured conversation with him about horse racing.

He even piqued the interest of a few girls who were wondering about James Potter’s new friend. When they came over to chat, that was when he really turned on the charm. He easily had them tripping over their words, cheeks stained red. But once they were gone, Barty leant into him and whispered, “I’d rather make you blush.” Which instantly caused James’s face to heat, gaining a lopsided grin from Barty. 

When the night started to wind down, the two made their way into the gardens. Their hands clasped together as they ran, laughing wildly. Eventually, they made it into the cover of the trees and bushes. When James pulled Barty to a stop, their bodies collided together. 

“I think you broke at least fifteen different girls’ hearts tonight,” Barty chuckled. “Sure you don’t want to go back in there and ask someone to dance?”

“I think you were the one who was breaking hearts,” James insisted, pulling on Barty’s hips. “Come on, I’ll show you how.”

They slowly turned as James counted out the steps. Now and then, Barty would step on his feet, losing his count. “How am I supposed to learn?” Barty tutted. “I can’t tell which one of us is supposed to be leading.”

“I’m leading, obviously,” James told him. He was sure he’d told him, but Barty wasn’t one to follow rules. 

“Naw… I think you said it was meant to be me,” Barty teased. His hand slipped out of James’s and he cupped his chin. “Come on, love. Show me this house of yours? I’ve got a thing or two to teach you tonight, too. I promise it will be more fun than dancing.”

Chapter Text

iv.

James Potter, New York, 1920

James rubbed gentle circles into the soft skin of Regulus’s lower back. He stretched out on the couch next to him, laying on his stomach, with a blanket pulled up to his waist. They’d fallen into a comfortable pattern. Every night, James would show up at the club. He would sit in the same spot and wait by the bar for him to be done with work. Some nights he came right to him, while other nights he shied away, continuing to work late into the night. James got the impression he was testing him. It was as if Regulus thought he was going to run at any moment, but James never did. What was a bit of time sitting at the bar if he got Regulus in return? 

The brief time they got to spend together each night was special to James. Sometimes he wondered if he would tire of Regulus’s presence, but the reality seemed to be the opposite. James couldn’t get enough of him. Every day they spent together, he fell a little more in love with him. 

Love . 

He was sure that’s what was building. Regulus wasn’t there yet. That much was clear. Sometimes James wondered if he would ever reciprocate those feelings. On good days, they could clearly see where their relationship was headed. But on bad days, it was plain to see that Regulus was struggling. James tried his best to be patient. They hadn’t met under normal circumstances, after all. 

That night was a good night. Regulus had frantically grabbed at James’s shirt the moment they were alone. “Off,” he’d demanded, breathing hot across the skin of James’s neck. “Take this shirt off.” 

James knew it was going to be a good night as he bent Regulus over the side of the couch and fucked him. He knew from experience that his frantic and needy energy would melt away, revealing Regulus’s soft underbelly. 

And so as they lay there, James asked, “will you dance for me again one day?” Because he knew he was likely to get an answer. It was a nagging question, one that had been on the tip of his tongue for a while.

“Maybe,” Regulus said, his face flushing. “You’d want that?”

“Of course,” James eagerly admitted. He could tell Regulus was holding back. He was always unaware of the effect he had on James. “I love when you dance. How did you learn?”

“I was always drawn to the movement of dance,” Regulus told him. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. It was always easier for him to be vulnerable when he wasn’t making eye contact. “In school, I loved songs with dance movements. My friend’s parents dancing in the kitchen. Anything. When I was five, mum took me to the ballet for the first time. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I begged her to put me in ballet classes, but she wouldn’t let me.”

“Did she?” James asked, taking Regulus’s hand against his chest. “Did she let you eventually?” He loved when Regulus was unguarded in this way. 

“Not right away,” Regulus explained. “My parents didn’t want me to take any lessons that didn’t serve a purpose, and ballet would have been completely recreational. I mean later, I briefly danced professionally, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Obviously, at the time, they didn’t know I’d be that good. They didn’t want a dancer for a son. To them, that was a silly child’s dream. Instead, they put me in ballroom classes. They felt it was more useful. But I hated those classes, though.”

“You’re telling me,” James chuckled, remembering his own dance classes. “I had to take them when I was young. I always hated the ballroom dancing part of going to a ball.” Regulus opened his eyes and cocked his head slightly, looking at James. He must have forgotten for a moment how old James was. This happened every so often. It was hard for humans to conceptualize someone who physically looked young but had lived many lives. 

“How did you convince them?” James asked, wanting to know the rest of the story.

“I didn’t really,” Regulus told him, chewing on his words. “There’s no way to change their minds once they’ve been made up. Their priorities changed slightly as I got older, though. They felt my older cousin Narcissa was a good influence on me. Wanted to distance me from other relatives they felt were trying to turn me against the family. She was in ballet, so they would send me off to lessons with her. They wanted me to spend more time around her. When I got good, they saw it as a status thing. I did a few professional productions, and they felt it looked good on my portfolio.”

James couldn’t imagine growing up with these sorts of parents. His parents had loved every part of him, even the parts they didn’t understand. When he felt alienated from the world around him, they never stopped loving him. 

“But you don’t do ballet anymore?” James asked.

“I lost interest,” Regulus explained. “Part of me thinks maybe it was because my parents got too invested in it, but other times I think it’s more than that. I think about the way I danced at the club when it first opened. There are no strict rules to burlesque, compared to ballet at least. Ballet is an old art form, where every move has a history to it, a perfect way to execute it. Burlesque felt freeing, like the more I broke those rules, the more beautiful it became.”

“I love how passionate you are about it all,” James breathed, kissing the top of his head. 

Regulus’s steel-blue eyes locked on him. “What are you passionate about, James?” 

“Dunno,” James shrugged. “Nothing like that.” He didn’t think he could find anything that would compare to how Regulus spoke of dancing. 

“Everyone’s passionate about something,” Regulus pushed. His fingers trailed along James’s collarbone, tracing the ridges. 

“I guess I do have passion, but it’s different,” James mused, thinking for a moment about his life and what was important to him. “When I love someone, I love them wholly.”

Regulus pulled his hand back and wrinkled his nose. “We need to get you a hobby,” he teased. 

“Hey,” James chided. “I have hobbies.” He thread his arms around his waist, and pulled him closer, burying his nose into Regulus’s waves. 

“Like what?” Regulus scoffed, attempting to wriggle away. “And fucking me doesn’t count.”

“Are you sure I can’t pick that?” James groaned, attempting to cup his ass. “I think that’s my favourite hobby.”

When Regulus batted his hand away, James hummed, “Hm… fine. Jazz… I like jazz music.”

He gained an encouraging smile from Regulus. “One of the incredible things about having a long life is all the little things that change,” James told him. “Sometimes I get upset that I didn't have a choice about being changed. But then I think of all the stuff I get to do and see because of it. I never would have gotten to hear jazz music. Oh… and art déco is really something. It’s bold and exciting. I hated neoclassicism. Blarg, what a bore all those paints seemed so stiff. Impressionism was beautiful, but all that pastel got kind of dull after a while… what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re into art?” Regulus incredulously asked, his brows drawn together. “Didn’t peg you as someone who’d be into art.”

“Reg, I grew up in a very wealthy home,” James gently told him. “My family probably has more money than even yours does. I had a governess. I learned about all sorts of things. What do you think we talked about at all those fancy balls and dinner parties?”

“Gossip?”

“Well, yeah,” James said, shaking his head. “But we also talked about politics and art… architecture. All sorts of things.” He knew he didn’t come across as the most worldly person, but Regulus’s skepticism hurt a bit.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Regulus sheepishly mumbled. “Not everyone who learns about that stuff actually cares about it.”

“It’s okay,” James whispered. “Do you like jazz?” When Regulus nodded his head, he added, “I haven’t put much thought into it, but I guess I do care about it. Would you like to go to a jazz show with me one night? Maybe a gallery?” The two never spent time out of the club. Their entire relationship was hidden in the dim lights of the back room. James didn’t complain. He would take what he could get, but he had to admit it would be nice to do something special with Regulus.

“Hm… oh yeah,” Regulus yawned. He stretched, arching his back like a cat. “Maybe.”

James furrowed his brow. Regulus looked tired. The dark smudges under his eyes were bad that night. “You look exhausted,” he said, biting his lip. “Sorry for keeping you up.”

“It’s okay,” Regulus breathed, his lips quirking at the edges. “I like talking to you.” James felt a flurry of butterflies in his stomach. He nudged his nose into Regulus’s hair to hide his crimson cheeks. 

“Me too, but it’s late,” James whispered. “You should get some sleep.” Regulus tentatively nodded, looking up at him with weary eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave once you’re asleep. Yeah?”

Regulus relaxed against his side and burrowed his face into James’s chest. His eyes closed and his breathing slowed as James watched him, gently rubbing circles into his back. There was warmth settling in James’s chest as he watched him sleep. It was love and James was sure it was a love like he’d never felt before. It was different somehow — it didn’t feel new or shiny — instead, it was more of a steady sort of love. His love for Regulus was nothing short of spectacular. Still, James wasn’t sure what to make of it yet.

Chapter Text

v.

Barty Crouch Jr., London, 1920

James Potter had slipped through Barty’s fingers yet again. It was like a slow and painful sort of death; like being stabbed repeatedly but never receiving a killing blow. The worst part was the hope that bubbled within Barty. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d be able to win him back, if only the correct circumstances presented themselves. Barty just needed to try a bit harder and then he would make James see they were meant to be. 

Most people would have given up, but not Barty. James was the single best thing that ever happened to him, and he wasn’t about to let him slip away. Especially not when something so small and insignificant, like Regulus Black, was the thing getting in the way. 

Barty spent the better part of his week staking out the Emerald Lounge. He’d gathered more than enough information to understand the entire ins and outs of that operation. Which meant he’d found a fairly easy way in, where he could worm his way into Regulus’s life. Once he’d gotten close to him, he could easily plant some suspicions in Regulus’s ear. He was sure he could pull the two apart, rip their relationship out by the root. 

It was a foggy night. Dew clung to the streets as Barty drove down to the stockyards. Dim street lamps lit the sidewalk in front of large metal buildings. This was an industrial area of town that many of the alcohol suppliers worked out of. A series of storage buildings made up the area. 

The fact they could all exist in the same area was further proof that the police didn’t care about enforcing prohibition. There had been whispers of this but you could never be sure anything was ever a done deal when it came to illegal activity. Barty had learned that lesson the hard way on more than one occasion. 

He parked his car down a side street and then made his way in front of the building he was looking for. He lingered on the sidewalk, casually lent into the side of a brick wall. A few people walked by, but no one took much interest in him. 

Finally, he watched as a blond-haired man exited the building. He was tall and lean, with a muscular build. Barty tilted his head, watching him walk. He was intrigued by Evan. It wasn’t just an initial attraction, either. Barty spent a lot of time watching people. He could tell a lot by the way someone carried themselves. Most criminals were easily spotted. They carried a tension through their shoulders, a stiffness to their movements. But Evan walked as if he had nothing to hide. He had that same dancerly quality that Regulus had. 

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, though. This was it. The perfect moment had presented itself. He walked in the same direction as the man, picking up his pace as he walked up behind him. Evan stiffened as he got closer, no doubt hearing his footsteps. Being a vampire meant he could walk undetected behind a human. However, he typically opted to walk heavier on his feet. Humans tended to frighten easily when you appear behind them without any warning. 

“Evan?” he asked from over his shoulder.

Evan turned on his heel, eyes narrowing on Barty. “Who’s asking?” he demanded. 

Barty wavered slightly under the piercing gaze of Evan’s light blue eyes. He was intimidatingly beautiful, something he’d missed from watching him from a distance. It was all in the subtleties. The soft blue of his eyes, or the way his skin was flushed from the cold. His hair was messy and damp, sticking to his temples. The attraction caught Barty off guard, but he recovered quickly. 

“Does it matter?” Barty taunted, giving him a menacing glare. Guilt gnawed at his stomach. He felt bad intimidating him, but it was all a part of the plan. He could repent later, once everything was finished. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Evan cooly shrugged. To his credit, he wasn’t easily backing down. Barty couldn’t help but think he’d rather like Evan under different circumstances. 

“I think it does,” Barty told him. His eyes dropped the silver handgun he was holding. “Now, what do you have to say?”

“Whoa…” Evan calmly said, holding up his hands. He was trying his best to not show concern on his face and was doing a pretty good job. However, Barty could smell the fear on him. It rolled off him in heady waves, causing Barty to strain against his jeans. “There’s no need for that,” Evan tutted. He still managed to not show fear on his face. 

“Walk with me,” Barty casually asked him. “Trust me, it’s advantageous for you to do as I say.” 

Evan continued to walk down the sidewalk, with Barty closely in tow. 

“I hear you’re providing the Emerald with their alcohol supply,” Barty quickly stated, wanting to cut to the chase. 

“Might be,” Evan mumbled. “What’s it to yeah?”

“I think it’s about time you gave that up,” Barty said, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. Evan looked cold and calculated as he mulled over Barty’s words. “I’ve got about four other speakeasies that are ready to take on your business. I know the Emerald is a big part of our business. They take in more supply than most places. However, I’ve done the math and you’ll easily be making double the amount, maybe more.” Barty knew this was a large sum of money we would be giving up, but he didn’t care. He would have years to make money, however, he needed to act quickly in order to ensure Regulus and James didn’t take part in the Priori Incantatem ceremony.

“And why wouldn’t you just sell to those other bars?” Evan tutted. He kept his gaze averted, looking at the sidewalk ahead of them, while Barty watched him closely. 

It was a good question, one he’d been expecting, but Barty wasn’t ready to give up this sort of information. “That’s on a need to know basis,” he shrugged. 

“Well, I suppose you are the one with the gun,” Evan said with a chuckle. Oh, Barty really did like him. He wished things were different. He really did.

“That I am,” Barty laughed, his lips quirking up at the edges. He did not intend to use the gun, he’d brought it along purely as an intimidation tactic. Barty was fairly certain the lure of more money would be enough for Evan to give up his arrangement at the Emerald, but he wanted to have some added security. 

“Well, what do you say?” Barty asked. He was careful to not be too pushy. It was important to apply pressure, but you needed to know the exact amount when dealing with these sorts of arrangements. 

Evan stopped walking and turned his gaze directly onto Barty. “My sister works there,” he said, giving him a cold, hard stare. “You know that, right?”

“I might have heard something about that,” Barty lazily drawled. Of course he knew that. He knew everything you possibly could about the Emerald and its employees. He’d been watching them for days, not just to find out who their supplier was. Barty needed to know everything about every single person who frequented the establishment. This was how he typically operated. He was thorough and precise, never wanting to leave anything to chance. 

“If you or any of your men lay a hand on her, I will come for you,” Evan firmly told him. It was a bold move, one that Barty respected. Many men would not have such strong convictions while staring down the barrel of a gun. “Do I make myself clear?”

He felt a shiver roll down his spine at the threat. Evan excited him in a way he hadn’t expected. It was a shame they were meeting in such a way. They could get in all sorts of trouble together, but any chances of that were ruined. That tends to happen when you pull a gun on someone. 

“I can go a step further,” Barty explained. “No harm will come to any of the dancers at the Emerald under my watch. Anyone who has a problem with that has a problem with me.” He had no intention of any harm coming to anyone involved; even Regulus. He merely wanted to break Regulus and James up. He doubted it would be a difficult endeavor. Barty simply needed to plant some seeds of doubt and let nature take its course. No one needed to get hurt. 

Evan must have heard how genuine Barty was about this, because he slowly nodded his head. “Fine,” he tutted. “I don’t know why you’d ever want to give up extra cash, but that’s none of my business. So sure, we have a deal.”

It took Evan a few days to get everything in order. He needed time to reach out to the new businesses he would be working with. As well, he had to break the news to the staff at the Emerald. During that time, Barty kept a close watch on the operation, mostly to make sure a different supplier didn’t come in and take his spot. It was clear Evan’s announcement had caused a considerable amount of stress among the staff there. Barty felt bad when he thought about this. However, he knew he would be solving all their problems soon enough. 

Once everything was finally in place, Barty made his way into the Emerald Lounge. He acted as if he were any regular client, opting to sit at the bar. He had to admit the place was rather impressive. He’d been to many brothels in his time, but none of them were quite as elegant as the burlesque club. The space felt luxurious; like a lewd daydream. This felt like the sort of place you needed money and wealth to frequent. It wasn’t just that though, many place in the city required connections but the Emerald required elegance.

He sat on one of the high top stools by the bar, waiting for Regulus to show his face. It wasn’t long before he walked up to the bar in a rush, speaking in a hushed voice to a bartender. When he was done, Barty waved at him to get his attention. “Regulus Black?” he asked. 

Regulus looked at him with a cold, appraising stare. He was rather intimidating for such a small person. Barty knew right away he never wanted to get on Regulus’s bad side. And as long as everything went according to plan, he wouldn’t have to.

“The one and only,” Regulus said. To the untrained ear, his tone was cheerful and inviting, but Barty could see past that. He’d been around enough people participating in illegal activities to know when he was being sized up. Regulus was better at hiding it than most, however, it was still there, ever so subtly, hiding under the surface.

“Barty Crouch Jr. pleasure to meet you,” he told him. He thrust his hand out between them, shaking Regulus’s hand. He knew the initial meeting was always the worst part. Once he’d shown himself to be trustworthy, the rest would fall into place. “I hear you are in need of my services.”

“I am?” Regulus asked, his eyebrows raising. “And which service would that be?”

“I’m a rumrunner,” Barty told him. He watched as recognition lit in his eyes. “Heard you might be in need of one.”

“Potentially,” Regulus mused. “Our rum runner is leaving the game to pursue other lines of business… no hard feelings, of course. They were willing to pay a higher amount. That’s just how it goes sometimes, but it does leave us in a bit of a hard spot.”

“Ahh…” Barty tutted. “Can’t run a brothel without alcohol. How would you convince those stingy mother fuckers to open their wallets up?” Barty knew the game well. It was the oldest business in the world, and he’d been around it for a long time. While the world changed in unimaginable ways, this was one of those things that stayed the same. Wealthy men would always be more generous with their money when they had a bit of alcohol in their system.

“Something like that,” Regulus said, grimacing. He clearly didn’t like the insinuation Barty was making. Barty supposed Regulus fancied himself an artist, considering all the dancers he employed. He made a mental note to not make that sort of comment again. He wanted to stay on his good side. That was the only way he’d be able to slide into Regulus’s life; by masquerading as a friend. Barty didn’t think this would be too difficult of a task. He wouldn’t have to pretend to like him. The two had only briefly spoken, and he could tell he liked Regulus. 

“I think I should be able to help you out,” Barty told him, skating past his mistake. “We have a bit of wiggle room within our supply. Should be able to take you on as a client.”

“There’s just one thing…” Regulus said. His eyes narrowed on Barty, causing him to brace himself. Of course, there would be a catch.

“Hmmm?” Barty waited on bated breath. He was so close to turning his plan into a reality, his stomach squirmed with nerves. If Regulus turned him down now, he wouldn’t have another way into the club, especially because he already knew him by face. If Regulus turned down this deal, he’d have to rope someone else into the plan. Which was less than ideal. The more moving parts, the harder it was to control the outcome. 

“I care a lot about the people I employ, in every facet of this job,” Regulus explained. The way he spoke made Barty fully understand why James was interested in him. While Regulus kept his emotions carefully guarded when he spoke like this, it was with such conviction that it left little to be interpreted. When he said he cared about his employees, he meant it. Of course, James found himself a caring criminal. 

Barty felt jealousy lick his insides, but he knew this was a small hurtle. It was a stroke of luck, really. He could study Regulus. Then once he got Regulus out of the way, he would mould himself into this archetype. 

“My dancers are my responsibility to keep safe,” Regulus continued. “You see, we don’t want any trouble. We have fostered a very safe environment at the Emerald. While yes, there is some illegal activity there, that doesn’t mean we want trouble. Do you understand?”

“Of course.” Barty nodded eagerly, still uncertain if he’d fully convinced him. “The lads who work for me are all stand up men. Won’t even notice they’re there. Absolutely respectable guys.” 

“Okay…” Regulus said, still looking unsure of himself. Barty could tell Regulus was just as good at reading people as he was. He knew he was hesitant because he wasn’t sure he could fully trust Barty yet. Which was fair, because he shouldn’t trust him, but Barty was determined to wear him down. He wouldn’t give him anything to worry about on the operational side of things. 

“We in business then?” Barty pushed. 

“Yeah,” Regulus agreed. “We’re in business, but don’t forget what I said.”

“Of course. Of course,” he encouraged. He felt the back of his neck prickle hot with shame. Deep down, he knew what he was doing was wrong, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop. 

Barty moved quickly, setting his operation up in the Emerald. He worked for many speakeasies and brothels, but the burlesque club was his favourite. It was a shame he’d have to stop hanging out there once his plan was over. 

Much to his chagrin, the first week or so, Barty hardly saw Regulus. He was a busy person who didn’t stay in one place for long periods of time. It was clear to him that he was living at the club. He also knew James was coming to see him daily, a fact that made him want to burn the entire building to the ground. However, that would get him nowhere. Instead, he continued to watch the goings on at the club from a distance. He learned James and Regulus’s patterns till he was confident he could approach Regulus without fear of James seeing him. 

Barty showed up at the club with his men and hung around as they moved their stock.

He had managed to catch Regulus watching one of the numbers. Barty slid into the booth next to him, leaning back against the plush wall behind them. “Pretty neat joint you’ve got here,” he complimented, watching him out of the corner of his eye.

“Thanks.” Regulus’s eyes were trained on the dancers. He looked away from the stage to take notes occasionally.

Barty found it fascinating to watch as he scribbled things down on the paper. The dance looked perfect to him and yet he had a never ending string of details on the page. It was clear Regulus was a perfectionist. 

Barty was considering leaving to get up and try again another time. But suddenly Regulus’s attention snapped toward him, curiosity burning in his eyes. He looked down, eyes flitting to Barty’s mouth. “How old are you?” he wondered out loud. Barty wasn’t even sure he meant to ask, it seemed involuntary. Still, he had to use whatever he could to his advantage. 

“Twenty five,” Barty lied. He’d been twenty-one when he was changed, but he typically aged himself up a bit. It was hard to command respect when the surrounding people thought you were freshly an adult. Those few extra years made all the difference. He’d tried to go older than that, but it was harder to convince people. 

“No,” Regulus said, adamantly shaking his head. “I don’t want to know the age you tell people. How old are you really?”

“Old,” Barty told him, winking. “What gave it away?” 

“Lucky guess I suppose.” Regulus shrugged, looking down at his paper again. Barty suspected it was more than just luck. Regulus had been spending a large amount of free time with a vampire. As well as growing up in a household full of fanatic vampire lovers. 

“I’ve never been that good at recognizing the signs, even when they’re right in front of me. They’re too subtle,” Regulus continued, still not making eye contact. “But I’ve been watching you when you come here for deliveries. There’s something in the way you carry yourself that had me wondering. But when you just spoke to me, it confirmed it. I could tell by your teeth, obviously. Just needed to get closer to confirm it.”

“I see…” Barty said, chewing on his words. This was anything but a casual conversation. He was extremely aware Regulus was sending him a carefully concealed message. I am watching you. The threat threw Barty off. He was used to watching. Barty hadn’t stopped to think Regulus might be watching him in return. He’d have to be more careful in the future. 

“How did you get into the business of smuggling alcohol?” Regulus asked, glancing up at him. Objectively speaking, Regulus was a good-looking man. His features were both striking and delicate. It made jealousy claw at his insides. He couldn’t look more different from him. Most days, Barty didn’t tend to hate the man he saw in the mirror. But sitting there looking at Regulus made him ache to be something he wasn’t. While Regulus was demure, Barty was boyish. Sharp features countered soft round ones. It was like the difference between silver and gold. It was hard to comprehend how James could be attracted to such contrasting people. 

“I was dirt poor when I was younger,” Barty explained. This was the part he could do well. He had his story well rehearsed, ready to pull at any given moment. People loved a rags to riches story. It made him more approachable, positioning himself as someone worth rooting for. “Till I dated a wealthy man who helped me out with some connections. After we broke up, I became a lawyer and my two lives sort of merged. I was able to use my connections from both sides of my life to get me here.”

“Couldn’t you just be a regular lawyer?” Regulus asked, clicking his tongue. “I hear they make pretty good money.” There it was again, further proof of why James liked someone like Regulus. It made Barty’s stomach churn. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. It frustrated him how obviously compatible the two were. 

“Then you wouldn’t have alcohol for your club,” Barty joked. He watched as Regulus’s face softened, his lips quirking up at the edges. 

“True,” Regulus said. He shrugged, a scowl forming on his lips again. 

“How long have you owned this place?” Barty pushed. He glanced at his watch. It was almost time for James to show up. Which meant he needed to leave, but he wanted to make a bit more of an impression on Regulus before he left.

“Since I was eighteen,” Regulus explained. There was obvious pride in his voice whenever he spoke about the Emerald. 

“It’s sort of incredible,” Barty admitted. He wasn’t lying, he loved the set up the club had. Everything was thoughtful and artfully crafted. “This beautiful place is hiding in plain sight. It feels like walking into a fantasy.” This part of the conversation flowed easily. Barty genuinely loved the Emerald and he would miss spending time there once he’d rid Regulus of his life. 

“Thanks,” Regulus said, grinning. “That was the idea.”

Barty was starting to get antsy. He was cutting his exit pretty close. Luckily, one of the bartenders came up and tapped Regulus on the shoulder, ushering him off to the bar. Barty took that moment to duck out of the room. He stood back, pressed against a wall in the hallway nearest the bar, listening to Regulus speak to the employee. Barty was hoping to gather some sort of useful information, but instead, he got more than he bargained for. 

He wasn’t sure at what point, but James walked up to Regulus. This didn’t become clear until after Regulus concluded his conversation with the staff behind the bar.

“Everything okay?” He heard James ask. It was plain to hear the genuine care and concern that coloured his tone. 

“Yeah, I was just talking to someone,” Regulus absentmindedly told him. Barty considered bolting from his spot in case he began looking for him. Luckily he said, “oh well, he probably had to go.” Barty sagged against the wall, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“How was your day, baby?” James asked. The sound of his voice caused bile to build in the back of Barty’s throat. James’ voice was full of admiration and lust — something that had once been reserved for Barty only. 

“Don’t call me that here on the floor,” Regulus said with a little giggle. A giggle. The stoic man he’d just spoken to was giggling, and it made Barty want to punch a wall. “People will get the wrong impression.” 

James whispered something Barty couldn’t quite make out. He lent a bit closer, trying to see if he could make anything out, but still wasn’t able to hear anything. “Come on,” Regulus finally told James. “Let’s go to the back room. You can unleased some of that pent up energy there.”

“Don’t act like you’re not excited to see me,” James chided, his voice husky. 

“I hate you,” Regulus huffed. 

“We’ll see what you have to say once you’re behind those curtains,” James teased, and then they were gone. 

Barty’s head tipped back against the wall, and his eyes stung. That was supposed to be him and James, only he was supposed to hear James’s voice husky and full of want. It wasn’t Regulus’s fault, but still Barty wanted to crush him like the small insignificant little pest he was. 

He realized he was going to have to pick up the pace. The more time Regulus and James spent together, the harder it would be to break them apart. Barty knew he didn’t have much time left, but he was more determined than ever. He would find a way to end their silly little relationship and then James would come crawling back to him.

Chapter Text

vi.

Regulus Black, New York, 1920

“Please,” James whined, tugging on his arm. His eagerness caused him to look like a lost puppy, a fact Regulus found endlessly endearing. 

“I am busy,” Regulus chided. “I have a business to run.” James showed up at the Emerald early that morning and had been following him around as he worked. It should have annoyed him, but he couldn’t help but smile. James had this way of working into his weak spots. He’d spent his entire life building up mental armour to lock his parents out. It had become second nature to hide bits of himself. Somehow, James managed to get past those defenses every time. 

“You’re going to work yourself to death,” James said, crossing his arms over his chest. He had a slight pout tugged at his lips that made Regulus want to kiss him right there in front of everyone. “The last time you took a day off was two weeks ago,” James continued, ticking the days off on his fingers. Regulus had no clue when his last day off was and was surprised James knew.

“You’re counting?” Regulus huffed, but there was no heat behind his words. He had to admit, he found it heartwarming that James cared in this way. 

He’d had pressure put on him since he was a young child. Regulus felt the weight of that for long enough to not remember what it was like to be taken care of. It felt nice to have someone want to look after him. There were even moments Regulus thought Priori Incantatem might not be that bad, especially if he had to be chosen by James. He knew it wasn’t necessarily true, though. Being chosen would change the dynamics between them, but it was nice to daydream about endless life with James. 

“I’m here every day,” James explained. “It isn’t hard to notice.”

“He’s right,” Pandora called as she walked toward him. She was carrying a large box that was overflowing with sequins, fabrics, and feathers. Which she set down on the table next to them. 

“Stay out of this.” Regulus scowled, glaring at her. Of course, she was getting involved in this conversation. She was constantly on his case about taking more days off. If she and James teamed up, he would never hear the end of it. 

“ Don’t have private conversations on the floor ,” she quoted, sticking out her tongue at him. 

“Don’t use my words against me,” Regulus taunted, his frown deepening. James stood next to them, listening to them bicker with one another, shaking with laughter. The two had only met a handful of times, and they both seemed to enjoy each other’s presence. James seemed to like everyone, while Pandora was more selective in whose presence she enjoyed. It spoke volumes she approved of James, especially considering the fact she knew about Priori Incantatem and completely disapproved. 

“Go,” Pandora shouted, shooing him toward the door. “Leave. Be gone. Have fun.”

“You’re a traitor, you know that?” Regulus grumbled. He held his hands against the door frame, stopping her from pushing him through it. While he was still putting up a fight, internally he’d completely folded. Spending an afternoon with James sounded lovely. 

“Reg, go hangout with the ridiculously hot, kind, rich man who’s obsessed with you,” she teased, continuing to press firmly between his shoulder blades. “Please, go enjoy yourself. Everything here will be fine. I’ve taken care of everything for the day. Go!”

Finally, after some grumbling, Regulus agreed to be hurried out the door. He sulked for an entire block as James cheerfully chattered away next to him. The weather was wonderful. Blue skies rolled overhead, with little white clouds blotted across it. It was warm enough to not need a jacket for once. The fresh breeze felt revitalizing across Regulus’s skin. The good weather had brought people out, making the sidewalks packed with bustling, excited people. 

As they walked, Regulus eventually softened. “Can we get some food?” he asked, rubbing his temples. He realized he had a pounding headache and couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. “Can you eat? Like human food?” He realized he’d never seen James eat anything, let alone blood. The realization made him burn with curiosity.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t do much for me,” James explained. “Sometimes I just eat it for the taste. There are foods I miss now and then. Eating when you’re not hungry isn’t really the same, but it’s sort of nice once in a blue moon.” Regulus didn’t understand this. If he could eat his favourite foods without ever being satiated, he would eat all the time. 

“Is it okay if we get food, then?” Regulus sheepishly asked. He felt bad dragging him to a restaurant that James wouldn’t eat at. There was surely something better they could do with their time. Something they’d both enjoy. 

“You haven’t eaten yet today,” James gently said. “We are getting food. I don’t mind.”

“You don’t know that?” Regulus huffed. He’d only shown up at the Emerald midway through the day. Regulus could have easily eaten earlier. He hadn’t, but that was beside the point. 

“I can tell,” James firmly told him. He momentarily slid his hand into Regulus’s, squeezing it gently. “Your voice gets a bit shaky when you don’t eat and you look tired. More tired than usual. I can also tell when you don’t sleep, by the way.” Regulus shot him a glare. He hadn’t realized he picked up on those sorts of things. It made his stomach squirm to think about someone worrying about him. Sure, Pandora was often on his case about these sorts of things, but she was one of few people who did this.

He tugged on James’s shirt sleeve, pulling him around a corner. “Where are you taking me?” James chuckled. His eyes had a excited glint as he glanced around the street. 

“We are going to Paris,” Regulus explained. “Well, as close as you can get in New York.”

“I’ve never been to Paris,” James admitted, his cheeks reddening. It was intoxicating to see someone as old as James blushing under his gaze. 

“No way?” Regulus gasped. “All that time you’ve been alive and you’ve never been? We will have to go together one day.” The comment was a slip. Regulus wasn’t the sort to make those sorts of plans with someone, especially not with someone like James. However, he was in far too deep. The butterflies he felt low in his belly worried him to no end. Most days, when he wasn’t with James, he was thinking about him. It was terribly irritating. He didn’t understand how anyone got anything done when they were infatuated with someone. How had most of the world managed to fall in love and continue to be functioning human beings?

“Never been,” James shrugged. “I would like to go with you. That sounds like a lovely plan. What’s it like?” Regulus’s stomach simmered with excitement at the thought of himself and James in France. 

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Regulus sighed. He loved France, always had. If his parents hadn’t forced him to stay in New York, he would have moved there. Sometimes, he liked to fantasize about running away to Paris. He liked to imagine he’d reunite with his brother and they’d live there together. He’d leave Pandora to run the Emerald, visiting once in a while to see her and check on the club. Then he’d open a new burlesque club somewhere in Paris. 

It was a lovely fantasy. He tried his best to push it from his mind, but in moments of weakness, he would spend more time lingering in the fantasy than he’d like to admit. Each day that went on, he found himself longing to make his dream a reality. 

“Paris reminds me of my brother,” Regulus admitted. It was difficult to say the confession out loud. He normally avoided talking about Sirius, but with James, he felt safe. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt safe with someone, and it was odd to think of how the two had met. Regulus was at a war with himself when he thought about this. It was easy when he was with James to forget everything they were meant to be to one another. But once he was alone, he’d examine everything, tearing it to shreds, attempting to figure out what was happening. 

“We spent some time there when we were young. It’s some of my favourite memories with him,” Regulus continued on despite himself. 

“Ah… the infamous Black heir,” James attempted to joke. His voice was tight. It was clear he knew they were entering an emotionally difficult conversation. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard all about him,” Regulus breathed. He wanted to know what people said about his family; especially Sirius. He’d always wondered how they looked to outsiders. Still, he was too afraid to ask. He was worried the truth would completely devastate him. It was one thing to assume your family were freaks, but another to get confirmation of this fact. Even though Regulus had his suspicions, he wasn’t sure he could handle knowing. There were certain realities that were best kept a mystery. 

“Bits and pieces,” James admitted. He nervously glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes as they walked. “Do you talk to him at all?” He seemed to be curious, but had the good sense to proceed with caution, which Regulus greatly appreciated.

“No,” Regulus said, shaking his head. “Radio silence. Sometimes I think about hiring a private investigator to find him, but I don’t know if there’s much of a point.” He’d never admitted this to anyone. Ever. It felt foreign to say such a deep dark secret out loud. It felt vulnerable and raw as the words fought their way out of his throat. 

“Why is that?” James gently asked. This was what made him such a good listener. He would ever so carefully push for more information, encouraging Regulus to share more, but it never felt like he was greedily attempting to search for gossip. 

“Why bother searching for someone who doesn’t want to be found?” Regulus said, his eyes stinging. James did him a favor and looked toward the other side of the road, allowing him a private moment to wipe a stray tear from his cheek.

“What if it isn’t you he’s hiding from?” He asked, turning back to him, as he gently placed his hand on his back, rubbing small circles as they walked. They gained a few stares from people passing by them, but James paid them no mind. Regulus was having a harder time ignoring people’s furrative glances. He wished they were in private. He wanted James to cradle him in his arms. So Regulus could bury his face into his chest. Instead, they walked in companionable silence for a long moment, until Regulus was ready to speak again.

“I’m an extension of my parents,” Regulus explained, knowing it was the bitter truth. “I’m everything they wanted him to be. There’s no world in which my brother hates them and still loves me.” There it was again, the horrible bitter truth that he kept hidden. Something about James made Regulus want to bare his entire soul. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” James said with so much force Regulus almost believed it himself. Almost . “You’re not an extension of your parents. You are your own unique and beautifully special person.” Regulus would have loved to see himself through James’s eyes — just once. He couldn’t fathom how he was the same person James spoke about. 

“You should reserve judgement till you see me at one of those horrible Hallows parties,” Regulus bitterly told him. The idea of James seeing him like that embarrassed him. It was hard to believe that the person designed specifically for James was so different from the person he was when he was actually with him.

They stopped out front of the pastry shop. A sign that hung over the door read, Bobette and Belle , in delicate looping text. Above it was a cluster of soft blue and white flowers. Through the display case, an assortment of delicious pastries sat in the display case. James smiled, glancing into the shop window, his eyes lighting. “Looks beautiful,” he breathed. “Should we go inside?”

Regulus wordlessly nodded his head, smiling weakly. He watched as James opened the door for him, holding it open. He couldn’t suppress a grin as he walked past him. He was excited to share something he loved with James. They made their way to the front counter, looking down at all the delicate pastries behind the glass. There were puff pastries and soft creams on top of fresh fruit. Everything looked mouthwatering, and Regulus couldn’t help but lean in closer, breath fogging on the glass. 

They each picked out different pastries. Regulus chose a pain au chocolat and a latte. He could have picked something more exciting, but he loved routine, and this was his typical order. James ended up buying a sleeve of macaroons. They walked a short distance to a nearby park and sat in the grass together.

Regulus was happy that the park was secluded. He wanted to be alone with James, free from prying eyes. Where they could sit and share his favourite pastries without interruption. 

As Regulus ate his croissant, he felt life slowly returning to him. Maybe everyone was right. He needed to take better care of himself. Or perhaps he’d never had much of a reason to take care of himself until then. He’d never seen a future that felt worth fighting for. While things were complicated with James, there was no denying he was breathing life into him. 

Still, he felt guilty as he nibbled the edge of the croissant. Food had always been a battle for him. He resented the fact he needed it. It slowed him down, having to find food and take the time to eat it. He hated how he felt if he ate too much of it, his mother’s harsh words would ring in his ears. She’d pick apart his entire body, finding ways to make him more desirable. However, it wasn’t only the fear of what would happen if he ate too much; it ran deeper than that. Regulus loved feeling empty and craved the tightness of his body when it was empty. He wasn’t sure why he was like this, but suspected it had something to do with control. Everything else in his life was spinning out, but this was something only he had control over. He pushed the thought from his mind, taking a bigger bite of his croissant, attempting to actually enjoy it. 

“What’s it like to be a vampire?” Regulus casually asked, as he lay his head on James’s lap. He stretched out, feeling the grass tickle his arms and legs. The afternoon sun kissed his skin and he had to admit he felt more relaxed than he had in months. 

“Dunno,” James shrugged. “Not that different from being a human, I think. It’s hard to remember what it felt like to be human. I can remember everything from my human life. But it was so long ago that I can’t remember the feeling.” Regulus couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to live for that long. He tried to imagine all the things he must have seen in his long life. It was dizzying to think of. 

“Do you kill?” Regulus carefully asked. He was unsure if he wanted to know the answer because he knew he could easily be disappointed by the potential answer. Regulus wasn’t sure he could stomach being intimate with someone who was willing to take another’s life. He recognized the complexity of the situation. Vampires required blood to survive. Still, there were other means of consuming blood. He bit his lip, hoping he’d approve of James’s answer. 

“I have,” James admitted. The confession was quick and he got the impression it was something he was extremely ashamed of. “But it was a long time ago. I’m pretty against it.”

“Why?”

“Are you against killing?” James asked him. Then, when he nodded his head, he continued. “It’s no different. Every person you kill has loved ones who care about them. I have other methods to keep me alive without killing. So why should I take away someone’s life?”

“I think I’d do the same,” Regulus told him. He looked up at him, watching as James smiled sadly down at him. “Of course I’m a bit biased now, but I can’t imagine it. Killing just seems so… violent.”

“It is,” James confirmed. “I was turned against my will. The Hallows unleashed me onto the streets as a newborn. Obviously, I’m responsible for my actions, even under those circumstances. But it wasn’t how I would have wanted to go about things. If I could go back, I would have done it differently.” Regulus’s stomach dropped like a stone in water. He couldn’t imagine how disorienting it would have been to be turned without knowing it was happening. He’d always been told it was an extremely painful experience. The fact the Hallows were willing to do that to someone told Regulus everything he needed to know about them.

“You’re still okay with the Hallows after that?” Regulus balked. He always came back to this same place — where he was confused how James could be a Hallow. It seemed to contradict everything he knew about him. To the point where it made Regulus wonder if he was being duped. Maybe James was lying to him, not showing him his authentic self. 

“It’s complicated,” James explained. “For a long time I wasn’t. I stayed away from them for a long time, but I didn’t know any other vampires. The world felt so much smaller back then. It sort of forced me into being a part of them. They were my only sense of community.”

“And now?” Regulus asked, raising his eyebrows. Surely there were other groups of vampires out in the world. He thought if it were a vampire who had control over his situation, he’d rather find other communities, rather than being in the Hallows. 

“Some of the Hallows are really lovely,” James told him. “Other’s not so much. I try to keep my head down and spend time with the people I get on with.” 

“I didn’t mean it in that way,” Regulus pushed. “What do you think about them as an organization? What do you think about their traditions?” He found it hard to match up the person he knew James to be with his impression of the Hallows. He wanted to believe everything he felt with James was real, but it was hard when Priori Incantatem was lurking around every corner. 

“In many ways, I don’t fit in many places,” James whispered, his voice cracking. “I don’t agree with everything the Hallows do, but they gave me a sense of community. They accept things about me that other places in society never will. It’s incredibly hard for me to fully turn my back on that.” 

To Regulus’s surprise, he understood how James felt because it was similar to how he felt about his own family. Sure, his family wanted him to be something he wasn’t. But there was also a deep sense of kinship. Being a Black meant something, and it felt like belonging. That’s why he found the idea of turning his back on them to be too difficult. He’d always admired his brother’s ability to be his own person. Sirius always stood on his own two feet, never shying away from who he really was. While Regulus learned to mask and hide many parts of himself to play the role expected of him.

Ironically, it was those concealed bits that James seemed to love the most about him. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Regulus hadn’t fully worked that bit out. 

“Well, isn’t this a cheery conversation?” Regulus mumbled, biting his lip. He pushed up, grabbing the sleeve of macaroons. “Come on, let’s finish these.”

The two slowly ate their macaroons, neither one of them in a rush to finish. Once the topic of the Hallows had melted away, Regulus fell into an easy conversation. He and James were like puzzle pieces. They fit together so easily, balancing each other out. 

It was the first time in a long time that Regulus’s mind wasn’t busy. Normally, he was always plotting the next thing he needed to do, never wanting to sit down and be in his own mind without distraction. But with James, he felt comfortable in silence. He even found it to be a nice thing to share with someone else. 

Eventually, Regulus lay back down, his head in James’s lap. James ran his fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp, till he fell into a deep sleep. He was distantly aware of James’s touch and the sun on his skin. It was the first time in forever that he’d properly slept. They stayed in that park for a long time, Regulus sleeping, while James basked in the afternoon sun. 

By the time they made their way back to the Emerald, Regulus wished he had more time away. He love the club, but it had been an enjoyable afternoon away. Speaking with James had been cathartic in a way he hadn’t known was possible. The only person he’d ever been open with was his brother, and those days were long gone. He’d thought he’d never been seen outside of when he was dancing, but with James, he felt whole. 

🖤

Regulus had been avoiding his parents. He was sleeping at the Emerald full time. Most nights after work, James would come to visit him. Once they were done, James would slink out into the night, leaving him to sleep on the couch. He knew his parents were bound to be upset by his absences, but he kept avoiding them until he couldn’t any longer. That morning as he was starting his day, his parents’ staff, Mr. Kreacher, walked into the club and informed him his parents were expecting him at their home that night.

He considered not going, there was no way for them to force him to go. However, he knew it would be worse for him in the long run. So he clocked off early that night and made his way to the Black manor. It was a formidable building located in the wealthiest neighbourhood in the city. Regulus grew up there, and when he was young he’d always felt uncomfortable in the building. It wasn’t till he went to friends’ homes that he understood why. The entire place was void of any warmth. The rooms had high ceilings and opulent furnishings. His family lived up to their namesake, using black and other dark colours all throughout their home. It gave the home a heavy, ominous feeling. Everything in the house was harsh and dark. It was hard to be in the house as an adult, because Regulus hated remembering Sirius and himself living in those walls; it felt bleak. 

The first thing he did upon arriving at the house was to go to his room. There was a large canopy bed, with a mahogany desk and a matching bookshelf in the corner. It hadn’t changed since he was a child and he didn’t feel comfortable in the space, however; it was the only place in the house that was his. 

Regulus shifted an area rug to the side and pried open a loose floorboard. He found a stash of things he’d left there as a teenager, which was mostly an assortment of books and journals. While Sirius had a much more exciting stash of contraband, Regulus simply wanted to read. His parents required that he approved all his reading materials through them. But Regulus had always been a curious kid. He didn’t want to read the boring books they’d chosen. The books on the shelf were still the ones that his parents had approved. He was an adult; he had no need for the stash under the floorboard, however; Regulus kept it there for the rare occasion he needed something more interesting to read than the shelf provided. 

He lent back onto his bed and spent some time reading until his mother stormed into the room. Her eyes narrowed on him, her lips pursed. “Regulus,” she intoned. “Your father and I would like to speak to you. Come with me to his study.”

He tossed the book under his pillow. He didn’t actually need to hide it, but old habits die hard. The two wordlessly walked through the hall to Orion’s office. Regulus knew he was in for it. He could feel the anger rolling off her shoulders in cold waves. There had to be more going on other than the fact he hadn’t been staying at their house. Something else had clearly rattled them. 

Walburga stopped out front of the door, turning to glare at him. “Stand up straight,” she hissed. “All those etiquette lessons and you still hunch over like that.”

“Can you not-”

“You would do well to watch your tone,” she spat. “You are in enough trouble as it is.”

Regulus’s throat bobbed as his mother opened the door, revealing his father sitting at his desk. The lights were dim, only a side light illuminating his sharp features. He was deep in thought, writing something as the two made their way into the room. He squirmed, feeling the weight of the silence in the room. 

Finally, his father looked up at him and asked, “Why has James Potter been seen going to the Emerald every night for the past month? As well, you were spotted walking near Bobette and Belle this morning.”

That was it? They’d found out that he and James had been spending time together. He knew they wouldn’t be happy he hadn’t followed their plan step by step. But he hadn’t anticipated they’d be this angry. 

Regulus bowed his head submissively, looking down at his feet. “He came and met me,” he explained. “I didn’t know it was him at first. He used an alias.”

“You shouldn’t have met like this,” Walburga said with venom in her tone. “There are rules and traditions surrounding this sort of thing. You knew better than that.”

“I didn’t know I was meeting him in the first place,” Regulus chided. He found it completely unfair that he was being reprimanded for something he had no control over. “Does it matter? It looks like you’re going to get what you want-” 

“You should have told us about the initial meeting,” Walburga hissed. “We could have made a plan from there.”

“This is ridiculous-”

“Hold your tongue, boy,” his father commanded. He hadn’t raised his voice, and yet the anger was still apparent in his tone. “Show some respect.”

“Why should I?” Regulus scoffed, his temper flaring. It wasn’t like Regulus to speak like this to his parents. However, he felt like he’d been spread so thin, he was finally snapping. But what he didn’t realize was that he was like a cat with nine lives, always landing on his feet. He was more like Sirius than he realized. When you pushed the Black siblings against a wall, they’d always come out swinging. It was only a matter of time before he finally snapped. “You’re forcing me to be with him. He’s with me. You’re getting everything you wanted. You can’t possibly be upset just because it didn’t happen exactly the way you thought it would.”

“You will do as we say,” Walburga sternly told him. “We have worked so hard to prepare for this and you will not mess it up with your impertinence. Ending up with James isn’t the only goal we have here. We need to ensure our standing.” It was always what Regulus could do for them , never the other way around. The realization lit something in him. It was like the smallest spark had started a raging forest fire. 

“You will not see him from now until the gala,” Orion informed him. 

Regulus had to suppress a laugh at the idea that James would simply accept him not speaking to him for another two months until they could officially meet at the gala. It blew his mind how little his parents actually knew about James. they‘d spent so long researching him, without ever really knowing him. James Potter on paper lacked any of the warmth. “You’ve never even spoken to him,” Regulus scoffed. “That won’t work. He will not stay away.”

“You will do as your father and I say,” Walburga said, her voice raising. As Regulus turned to watch his mother, he was sure he was properly seeing her for the first time. She was afraid. All their eggs were in one basket. If they lost control of him, they didn’t have a Plan B. They needed him more than he needed them. Pandora was right. He had a successful business and his own home. He was an adult and had already received his trust fund. Regulus would do just fine without them. There was no reason he needed to do a single thing they said. 

“I don’t think I will be doing that,” Regulus told them, standing up a little taller. “You need me. There is nothing stopping me from walking out that door and never coming back.”

Without hesitation, his mother pulled back her hand and slapped him across the face. “You will do as we say,” she spat. Regulus’s cheek stung, and his eyes watered. As he brought his fingers to his cheek, he found blood there. She’d used the back of her hand. Her wedding ring caught along the skin. 

His mother’s actions did not surprise Regulus. She’d been hitting him since he was a child. She’d mostly stopped once he turned eighteen, but when she got angry, this behaviour always came out. 

He shrunk back, the confidence he’d felt melting away. As he stood there, he felt like a small child again. His mother smiled cruelly at him, realizing she’d had gotten the desired effect. “We cannot undo your foolish mistake,” she told him. “But from here on out, things will be done as according to our plan.”

“It seems as if stopping communication with James would be damaging to the relationship,” Orion agreed. “You may continue to see him for the time being, but there will be restrictions on it.” Despite the flames of the fire being damped for the moment, Regulus knew they hadn’t fully gone out. His parents had never gone back on their word ever — not in his entire life. It was a testament to how much power Regulus held — and that didn’t escape him. 

“You will not do so in public and you will update us on what is happening,” Walburga demanded. “Do you understand?”

Regulus wordlessly nodded his head and waited to be dismissed from the room. He spent the night sleeping at his parents’ house. While he wanted to see James, he thought it would be a bad idea to push his parents, given the conversation they’d had. He slept terribly and slept the entire night, counting down the seconds until he could reasonably leave. 

🖤

“Oi,” Barty called across the floor to Regulus. “We are moving the latest shipment. Sorry it’s a bit late. It’ll be in your supply room by the end of the night.”

“Thanks,” Regulus said as he walked toward him. “Tell your guys they’ve been great. The dancers were nervous. They’d just gotten used to our last guy’s team and were worried about the change. But there hasn’t been a single issue, so thanks for that.” 

Evan’s team had been lightning in a bottle. He had a personal connection to the Emerald through Pandora, which meant he had a vested interest in ensuring the safety of the dancers. Not everyone would work to that same standard. It had been a bit of a risk to work together with an unknown operation. Regulus didn’t fully trust Barty, but he was warming to him. There hadn’t been a single issue with him or anyone who worked for him and Regulus had to give credit where credit is due. 

“Cheers,” Barty beamed. “Glad to hear everything is going smoothly.”

“Not everyone runs such a clean operation,” Regulus explained. “I’ve heard some horror stories from other business owners. It means a lot, thanks.” While he wasn’t fully convinced, he wanted to continue to give Barty subtle hints that he was being watched. Regulus may have been a busy guy, but he was hyperaware of what was happening at the Emerald. He hadn’t failed to notice Barty skulking around on more than one occasion. He could dismiss it as Barty working, but he still wanted to keep an eye on him. 

“You really care about this place,” Barty said. It was a statement, not a question. Regulus couldn’t help but wonder if he was saying these sorts of things to butter him up. Barty spoke with purpose and sounded genuine, but when he spoke to him, the back of his neck prickled. Leaving him wondering what Barty was hiding. Regulus was a good judge of character. There had to be something he was missing. 

“It’s very important to me,” Regulus told him, leaning into the wall. “What’s important to you, Barty?” 

“Would it be shallow to say money?” Barty asked. 

“No, not at all,” Regulus admitted. “I grew up around wealth. A lot of people tell you money doesn’t buy happiness, but it does buy opportunities… and from a certain angle, that sounds a lot like freedom.” He knew things were often more complicated than this, but he could understand how someone who grew up poor like Barty would value money.

“And freedom equals happiness?” Barty cocked an eyebrow, his eyes searching Regulus’s face. 

“Yes, only you never noticed it until you’ve lost it,” Regulus told him. It was more than he was willing to tell most strangers, but being with James had made him a bit more open to sharing concealed parts of himself. 

“And have you?” Barty asked. “Lost it?”

“Maybe I never had it to begin with,” Regulus told him, his eyes fluttering closed.

Chapter Text

b.

Barty Crouch Jr., London, 1822

Barty drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter as he sipped his morning tea. One of the servants had made it for him, and his stomach was still squirming with guilt. He wasn’t quite used to the opulence of James’s life, but he had to admit it was the best tea he’d ever tasted.

He and James had been spending time together for a few months now. Barty spent most nights at his place; practically living there. He now knew all the works in the home by name. James still came to his place from time to time, but Barty was sure he was just being polite. As if anyone would want to spend time in his tiny basement, when they could be in a mansion. 

Being with James came with a lot of perks, and he’d even gotten a few high-paying jobs through one of his friends. He was constantly surprised by how few questions people asked when they saw him with James. It seemed to be accepted that if you were in the proximity of wealth, you must be wealthy as well. As far as people knew, he was dressed the part and was seen with someone in high standing, so he must be meant to be there. Barty was quickly learning that wealthy people didn’t want to admit they didn’t know a person they thought they were meant to. This meant he was able to blend in to some extent. He never fully felt like he fit, but he made a good effort. Not just for James, but for himself. 

As he sat sipping his tea, Barty heard voices down the hall. He immediately knew this wasn’t the servants. The voices sounded like James’s parents. Barty had only met them a handful of times, and never alone. He contemplated making a run for it to bolt back into the room where James was sleeping. However, he thought that would be an undignified way for Effy and Monty to catch him. He and James couldn’t be together out in the open, but he didn’t want to make anyone suspicious. Barty knew all too well that if you acted as if you had a secret, it only alerted people more to the fact there was something being hidden.

The two walked into the kitchen deep in conversation, growing silent as their eyes landed on him. 

“Oh hello, dear,” Effy warmly greeted him. “Didn’t know James had guests or we would have knocked.” She spoke with such kindness, which made Barty think she believed every word she said. Rarely had he ever been faced with this sort of sincerity. 

“Hello,” Barty said conversationally. “James is still sleeping.”

“Ah, my boy can sleep,” Monty teased. “Been like that since he was a child.” 

Barty smiled to himself, trying to imagine a young James. He’d seen a painting or two of James as a child, but that wasn’t the same. Wealthy people were never painted as they actually were. Painters always used a heavy hand to stroke the egos of those with money.

The two slid into the chairs across the table from him, smiling expectantly at him. 

“James told us you two have been spending a lot of time together,” Effy warmly told him. It had never occurred to Barty that James spoke about him to his parents. He wondered what he’d told them. 

“You will have to come for dinner sometime up in the main house,” Monty insisted.

Barty bit his lip, nodding his head. He thought they were surely simply being nice. He found it hard to believe they knew what was really going on between himself and their son.”That would be lovely,” he settled on, taking a long sip of his tea. 

“You know…” Effy slowly told him. “Whoever James loves, we love, as long as they treat him well. The world might not understand it, but you two don’t have to hide anything here; not from us.” Barty knew they were aware of the fact that he and James were vampires. James had listened to his advice and finally told them. But he found it hard to believe James’s family knew the truth: that Barty was a poor, gay vampire who was falling deeply in love with their son. 

“You two are safe here,” Monty explained. “Anyone who has a problem with you two being together has a problem with us. If you ever have an issue with anyone here — whether it’s a person on staff or one of our friends — tell us and we will deal with it.” 

Barty blinked at them. The full weight of what they were saying finally hit him. He suddenly understood where James’s genuine kindness came from, and it was at that moment that Barty realized he wanted to do better. He didn’t just want to raise his station in life. He wanted to be a better person. James and his family made him want to be better. It had been so long since anyone had ever made him feel that way. 

For the most part, he was happy to coast through life, continuing on the way things were. But there in James Potter’s kitchen, he knew he wanted better for himself. He expected more for himself in every facet of his life. 

They left shortly after that, and then Barty crawled back into bed with James. He was still asleep, but stretched out, instinctively reaching for him. Barty nuzzled his nose into James’s hair, mumbling, “wake up, love.” Then he watched as James’s eyes fluttered open, sleep clouding his vision. “Your parents were here.”

“Oh…” James said sleepily. “What did they want?”

“Nothing in particular,” Barty told him. “Didn’t know you told them about us .” He burned with curiosity, to know exactly what he’d told his family, and why. 

James buried his face into his chest, attempting to hide his red cheeks, but Barty could see the red sweeping down the back of his neck. “I had to tell them something ,” he admitted. “They kept expecting me to court a never-ending stream of women.”

“Most people would have done that and been with me on the side,” Barty pointed out. He hated the thought of it. It wasn’t like he wanted James to be someone else, however, it wasn’t the safest thing to go around admitting to people. Barty had gotten good at knowing who to tell and who not to. Normally, wealthy middle-aged parents from high social standings weren’t given that sort of information. 

“Didn’t want to do that,” James shrugged. If Barty hadn’t had the conversation, he’d just had with Monty and Effy, he would have thought James was mad. It felt good to not be a secret, though. Even if it was only in one small area of his life. He’d never known a life where he could be completely open. 

The Potter’s estate quickly became a safe haven for them. They spent the long winter hidden away together. And as the harsh days of winter slipped by, Barty moved to the Potter’s estate full time. He got a job working as a legal assistant for one of Monty’s friends. The money was good, and it was honest work; something Barty had known little of in his life. 

It was the first day of spring, and the grounds on the estate were freshly manicured. James and Barty took a small rowboat out onto the lake at the back of the property. Fluffy blue clouds floated overhead, blotted across the bright blue sky. The air was still rather cool, but when in the sun, it was warm enough. They’d opted to wear summer clothes, despite it being a bit too cool out for them. Barty wanted to feel the sun on his skin after the long, dark days of winter. 

James rowed them out into the lake, water slapping up at the side of the boat as he did so. It felt cool splashing up onto them, and Barty longed to jump in headfirst. It was still too early in the season for that, though. He’d have to wait till summer for the water to cool down. 

Barty watched the muscles in James’s arm as he rowed, admiring them from across the boat. “You’re staring,” James teased. 

“You wish, Potter,” Barty chuckled, looking back out at the lake. Knowing full well he was, in fact, openly gawking at James, ready to jump him the moment he stopped paddling.

The water was crystal clear as he dipped his hand into it alongside the boat. 

The lake was rather small, but it was big enough that it took a few minutes to get out into the centre. They stopped in the middle, and James carefully climbed up into the bow. They’d laid out a few pillows and blankets along the bottom of the boat, which they spread out on. There wasn’t enough room to properly have sex there, but they did the best they could, unable to keep their hands off one another. 

Barty bucked his hips involuntarily up into the ring of James’s finger. James ran his thumb over the head of his cock, causing him to whimper. He knew Barty’s wants and needs so well. When they’d first gotten together, James had been so inexperienced and now he was more confident in himself. Yet somehow he still managed to have that earnest quality that drew Barty to him in the first place. You could read every emotion on his face and he was oh so passionate about his convictions. 

James coaxed him till he was on his side, back flush against James’s chest. Barty felt a slight burn as James thrust into him. He sighed deeply, his head tipping back onto James’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he groaned. Being with James like this was special. He’d been with many men over the years, but none of them made him feel the way he did. James gave you his full attention and made Barty feel like he was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. 

Barty’s hips pushed back, searching for release, causing James to grip his hip, holding him still. He let James set the pace, which was slow and fluid. But even the slow pace caused the boat to rock dangerously. 

“Careful,” Barty warned. “I don’t fancy going for a swim today.”

“I’ll stop,” James teased, drawing his hips back. 

Barty squirmed, attempting to reach back to pull him back in. “Oh no, you don’t,” he grumbled, causing James to hum with pleasure. James loved when he was needy and a bit desperate. 

“That’s what I thought,” James chuckled. He wrapped his hand around Barty and took his cock into his hand, matching the pace to the one of his hips. Barty got lost in the sensation of it. He was sure he couldn’t even remember his own damn name. 

When they were done, they lay limbs tangled, the blanket lightly draped over them. His fingers traced circles lightly into the soft skin of James’s chest. As he ran his index finger over the peak of his collarbone, Barty whispered, “I love you.”

He watched as James’s face lit up and remembered what it felt like to be in love for the first time. It was clear everything was new for him, and reminded Barty of simpler times. He hoped that being with James would bring him back to that innocence; before his life had gotten complicated. “I love you too,” James beamed. Barty wished they could live like that forever.

🖤

Barty had a long day at work. Things were busy because the firm had taken on extra clients. His day had been long and full of tedious jobs. By the time he got home, he was ready for a warm bath and to cuddle up with James. However, as soon as he walked through the door, he knew that wasn’t likely to be the case. 

James was seated in the sitting room, his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. “What’s wrong?” Barty asked carefully. 

James usually had a happy disposition. It was rare to see him upset. Which made it even more off putting to see him in this state. 

“Don’t freak out,” James told him. “But my parents are traveling to America for my father’s work and I’m going to go with them.”

“Oh… yeah…” Barty heard himself say. He felt like he was floating, as if he was outside of his body. Like he was watching his life fall apart, but it was all a part of a play he was simply watching. His eyes narrowed on James, taking in the sheepish look on his face. He walked out of the room and into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Barty wasn’t the sort to cry, instead he climbed into bed and curled in on himself. He instantly regretted pulling the covers over him, because James’s scent enveloped him. 

James lightly padded into the room and crawled up behind him. He tugged him against his chest, whispering into his hair. “I love you,” he told him. “You could come-”

“I’m not coming,” Barty curtly told him. “I just started this job.”

“You don’t need that job,” James insisted. “I have enough money for both of us.” He spoke like this often, never wanting Barty to go without, always offering up anything he had. Barty knew it came from a good place. However, it made him uncomfortable. He’d never been one to accept handouts. Everything he took felt as though he was racking up debt. Even though James never asked for anything in return, Barty knew nothing in the world was ever free. There would come a day when he would want to collect on everything he gave him. 

“I don’t want to live off your money,” Barty attempted to explain. “But it’s not just that. I don’t want to leave behind my entire life.” He felt incredibly small and insignificant. “Can’t you stay? Why do you have to go with them?” he breathed. Barty knew he was being selfish. He’d always been selfish in comparison to James. He tried his best to be better for him, but in moments of weakness, it always came through. 

“No, I can’t,” James softly told him. “The Hallows found out about my dad’s work overseas and they want me to check some things out for them in New York.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be one of them,” Barty scoffed. 

“You’re the one who told me you can’t turn them down,” James pointed out. Barty had to think for a long moment before pulling the memory he was speaking about. It had been a slight exaggeration; one Barty assumed he’d picked up on. He hadn’t realized the comment had left such a lasting impression on James. 

“I was just taking the piss,” Barty corrected. “Everyone knows those guys are all a bunch of pretentious wankers.”

“I was going anyway, and it’s not like they’re asking much of me.” James shrugged. “I just have to meet with a few people and write back to them what I see. Look… it doesn’t matter. That’s beside the point. I would go either way. I have a limited time in this life with them and I’m not willing to spend parts of it with them an ocean away. We have forever together. What’s a bit of time apart?”

Barty knew he was being reasonable. A few months was nothing when you had endless life. Still, for Barty, when it came to the people he cared about, there was never enough time. He wanted to spend every second of that endless life together. Barty selfishly didn’t want to share James with anyone, but he knew this was a losing battle. James loved his family more than anything. He was never going to convince James to pick him. 

“I’ll miss you very much,” he admitted. It was an awfully vulnerable thing to admit, but Barty didn’t think there was much point in pretending otherwise. 

“I will miss you too,” James said, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. “Will you write?”

“Of course, you bloody idiot,” Barty dryly chuckled. “As if I wouldn’t write to you.” He planned to send him as many letters as he could. 

“Will you wait?” James whispered. He said the words as if he was afraid of the weight they held. 

“Yes,” Barty quickly told him. James Potter was the single best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wasn’t about to let him slip through his fingers. “We’ve got a forever to plan after all.”

“You can stay here,” James suggested, sniffling. “Someone has to manage the grounds. Plus, I’d like to make sure you’re taken care of while I’m gone.” Barty wordlessly nodded, hugging him a bit tighter, as if he’d never have to let him go if he simply held on tight enough.  

The day James left was worse than Barty thought it would be. He and James sat wordlessly with their hands clasped together in the carriage. Barty felt the time slip by, and he wished there was something he could do to stop it. They were only going to be gone for six months. Originally, they’d planned for a year, but James was able to compromise with his parents. Barty knew James was right. In the grand scheme of things, six months was nothing to a vampire. Still, it was hard to imagine even one day without James. 

When they pulled up to the harbour, James wrapped his arms around him tightly. “It’s only six months,” he reminded him. “I love you and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Barty nodded his head against his chest, attempting to memorize the feel of his arms around him. “I love you too,” he mumbled, blinking back tears. 

When they stepped out of the carriage, they found a large crowd of people. There was a flurry of nervous excitement in the air. People were hugging and crying. Some people had already boarded the steam liner and were gathering on the side of the observation deck, waving. 

Barty said a brief goodbye to Effy and Monty, then hugged James again tightly. “Promise you’ll write?” he whispered into James’s curls. He knew the letters would be few and far between. It would take fifteen days for James to get to New York, and who knew how long the letter would take to get back to him? But it was something, and he had to hold on to the little bits of James he could get. 

“Of course.” James frantically nodded his head, hiding his face in his shoulder. 

It wasn’t long till they murmured quick goodbyes and then people were ushered onto the boat. Barty stood on the dock watching the ship sail away until it was a tiny dot on the horizon. He was one of the last people to leave the area. And despite not being the sort of person who cried often, that night he curled into a ball in James’s bed and cried himself to sleep.

🖤

Dearest Barty,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wrote as soon as I could, but I know these things take time. I hope you didn’t have to wait too long to hear from me. Our boat ride was quite the journey. I met a lot of wonderful people. There were even a few of our kind there. During the fifth night, a large storm rolled in, but we weathered it. It made mum nervous and said she doesn’t enjoy traveling. I suppose once we are home we will be staying put for a while.

New York is an incredible city. I think you would love it here. One day, we will have to make the journey together. I never knew there was so much to see in this world. 

I miss you deeply and cannot wait till the day we are reunited. I keep thinking of the days we spent by the lake. It makes my heart feel heavy, but I know we will have our days in the sun again soon. 

Sending all my love,

James

🖤

James,

Your letter came quicker than I expected. I cannot wait to hear about all your adventures with your family. I cannot even imagine what New York would be like. I love the idea of us travelling there one day together. Some days I regret not going with you, however, I too have people I have limited time with in London. 

Things are well here, although the house feels quiet without you in it. Sometimes I make my way through the grounds and think of all the times we’ve had there. The memories are bittersweet. Some days they make me sad, while other days they are the sweetest of memories. It is oddly comforting to stay here, though; it feels like some sort of tangible proof that you existed. This time a part has only strengthened my feelings for you. I miss you every moment of every day. 

Eagerly waiting to hear from you again,

Love Barty

P.S. I got a dog whose name is Carlos. He is a black and white cocker spaniel. He has a little white patch on the top of his head. You will love him.

🖤

Barty arrived at the harbour early and anxiously watched as the steam liner approached. As the ship was docking, he spotted James and his parents standing at the edge of the boat. They eagerly waved down toward him and a small group of their friends and family. James looked exactly as he had the day he’d left. 

During their time apart, Barty thought of James often. He wondered what it would be like when he returned. Sometimes, in moments of weakness, he thought James would come back completely different, so it was comforting to see he looked the same. He wanted to spend an entire week exploring James’s body, counting down every single freckle to see if anything had changed. 

The moment James stepped down onto the dock, Barty began to push his way through the crowd. He ran as quickly as he could, colliding against his chest. James’s hold tightened around him and he felt his feet lift off the ground as James spun them on the spot. 

“Carriage. Now,” Barty demanded. He waved hello to Effy and Monty and then grabbed James’s hand and pulled him through the crowd. 

Once in the safety of the carriage, Barty climbed into James’s lap, straddling him. Their kisses were sloppy and frantic as they tugged at each other's clothing. Barty sucked bruises into the skin of James’s neck, causing a low rumble to escape him. James’s head tipped back, and he moaned, “fuck, I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” Barty hummed. He slipped onto his knees on the floor of the carriage. Then pulled James’s pants down with shaking hands. He quickly swallowed down James’s cock, causing him to cover his mouth to muffle his moans. 

Barty’s head bobbed, his tongue lapping at the underside of James’s cock. His hand slipped down into his pants to stroke himself. After all the months apart, neither of them lasted long, but Barty didn’t mind. They had all the time in the world to be together then. 

The first week back, Barty and James were on a high. They spent most of it hidden away in their home, but it was as though the world had crept in and infected them. James was growing more interested in the Hallows. He began spending more time around them. 

Barty tried his best to be supportive. He knew it was difficult for James. He didn’t know any other vampires and craved a sense of community. The issue was that was a world Barty had no way of following him into. He would never be a part of them. The Hallows wouldn’t be tricked by the smoke and mirrors of a good outfit and proximity to the Potters. You needed to have actual status and power to be even considered as a member. 

This wasn’t the only issue, though. Barty had been wrapped up in worry that James was going to change when he was away, but he hadn’t even stopped to wonder if he was changing. He still went to his job and wanted to continue to make an honest pay there. However, without James to occupy his time, he’d begun spending more and more time with his old friends. This didn’t stop when James returned. He spent most nights out in the village.

Barty did his best to hide the worst of it, however, it inevitably all boiled over.

He’d spent the night drinking with a few of his friends in town. The bar had kicked them out because they were being too rowdy, which meant Barty was roaming the streets with a bit too much pent up energy. 

He knew he should go home; to climb into bed with James and sleep it off. But as he walked down the dreary London streets, he saw a girl walking on her own. It was uncommon to see women walking late at night, especially in that area. Barty checked over his shoulder, finding they were, in fact, on the street alone.

He wasn’t sure what overcame him. In fact, when he would replay the event over in his head in the days to come, he would realize he’d blacked out. One second he was chasing her, the next he was covered in her blood. 

When he was done he instantly knew he’d fucked up. Not because he felt bad about killing, but he knew James was going to be disappointed in him. 

He took every backstreet home, dodging anyone who might see him. When he successfully made it home unseen, Barty knew his struggle was far from over. The main person he didn’t want to catch was James. He’d tried his best to clean himself up before going into the house. However, there was no way to fully get the blood off him or his clothing. If he was thinking clearly, he would have ditched the outer layer of his clothes somewhere and cleaned himself off in the lake, but his mind wasn’t clear enough to figure that out. In the days and months that followed, he would replay the event in his head; agonizing over the obvious choice he should have made. 

Barty quietly slipped into the house and tiptoed into one of the spare rooms. With shaking hands, he unbuttoned his shirt, attempting to quickly remove it before James could find him. 

“Hey Barty,” he heard James call from the other room. “You’re home late. How were your friends?” 

Before he could move or hide, the door swung open, revealing James’s worried face. Carlos the little black dog, trailed behind him right as his heel. He ran up to Barty, jumping up at his leg, excited to see him. “What’s going on… is that blood?”

Barty stood frozen, rooted to the spot. He wanted to lie to James, to make up an excuse, but his thoughts were slow like molasses. Nothing came to him. He merely stood blinking across the room at James.  

“Whose blood is that, Barty?” James curtly asked, his eyes narrowing on him. “Did you kill someone?”

“What if I did?” Barty sheepishly asked. He didn’t mean for the comment to sound confrontational, but it was clearly the wrong thing to say. The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He could see the change in James’s demeanour, his eyes narrowing on him. 

“How dare you come into my house with fresh blood on your hands!” James spat. His words felt like being lashed with a whip. They were quick and cold with anger. 

“Ohh.. now it’s your home?” Barty spat. James never spoke to him like this. He always treated his things as if they were Barty’s, too. He always secretly worried he was a burden to him, that he would one day resent Barty for everything he gave him. It seemed that day had finally come. 

“God, this is so fucked up,” James said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Still, it wasn’t an apology. Barty dug his heels in, unable to back down. James’s rage was like kindling for Barty’s anger. It was like a match strike in kerosene. 

Barty wasn’t even sure he was mad at James, but he was mad at something. Maybe he was mad at the whole goddamn world. He didn’t know. All he knew was James was there with his righteous anger and Barty saw red.

“It’s the circle of life, James,” Barty snapped, his voice raising an octave. “We’re at the top of the food chain. Stop pretending this isn’t in the very makeup of our DNA, it’s in our nature.”

“The choices you make matter,” James yelled. It was surreal to hear him raise his voice in that way. Barty had never heard him yell before; not out of anger. “Whoever you killed has family and friends. People who love them, who will never see them again. If you want to pretend, this is the same as killing an animal, fine, but you can do it somewhere else.”

“You think your little friends in the Hallows don’t kill people?” Barty laughed. He sounded cruel and somewhere in the back of his mind, he wished he could pull back; to soften his tone. He was sure James would understand if only he’d admit he made a mistake; that it was simply a slip. Only he was too angry. 

“I don’t sleep next to them at night,” James continued to yell. “They’re not the ones I chose to spend a life with. I am not in love with them.” 

The tension in the room was thick as silence settled down around them. Still, Barty was sure they could fix things. Once they calmed down, Barty would explain everything to him and they would make up. James was understanding and he would come around. 

“I can’t do this,” James told him. His voice was quieter, but the anger was still present. “You’re always out; working or drunk. Now this… what the fuck is going on? You're not the person I fell in love with.”

Barty wavered back and forth for a moment, his throat bobbing. “I am still the same,” he pleaded, his mouth feeling dry. “I’m trying. I’ve always been trying. All I’ve ever wanted is to be better, to be good enough for you.”

“You shouldn’t have to try so hard,” James deadpanned. “My parents-”

“Are goddamn saints,” Barty mumbled to his feet. “How am I supposed to live up to that?” He knew James wanted a love like his parents, and Barty often wondered if anyone would ever live up to them; let alone himself. He didn’t know if he could ever be enough for James — he surely wasn’t good enough standing there covered in fresh blood. 

“I’m going to stay with them,” James said after a long silence. 

“What?” Barty spluttered. He’d expected him to be angry and then calm down. He thought maybe one of them would go for a walk and then they’d make up after, but now the gap between them felt bigger than ever. Bigger than when James had been an ocean away.

“No, please,” Barty said frantically. “I’ll try harder. I can do it.” He could do it, he really could. James just needed to give him a second chance. 

“No,” James told him firmly. “You can live here till you find another place.” The realization hit him that this wasn’t a temporary separation. When James said he was going to stay with his parents, Barty assumed for a few days — a week max — he never thought that would be the end of them. They’d talked about forever, after all. “But I’m not coming back until you’re gone.”

“Come on,” Barty begged. “I fucked up once and you’re kicking me out?”

“We both know this hasn’t been right for a while,” James explained. “I’m sorry, but this is over.” With that, James left him standing there, blood cooling on his skin. The room felt too silent once he was alone. Barty felt like he was choking on it. Carlos circled around his feet, whining, nuzzling his nose into his leg. 

Barty stayed in the home for about two weeks, thinking James would come back to him, but he never did.

Chapter Text

vii.

Regulus Black, New York, 1920

Regulus’s eyes blinked open, finding James sitting next to him, he brushed a loose lock of hair from his face. It was still early in the evening but he was exhausted. As soon as he finished work he collapsed onto the couch and fell asleep. He’d tried his best to stay awake until James got to the Emerald but that had proved to be impossible. 

James ran his thumb along the scratch on his cheek. “How did you get this?” he asked, concern clouding his eyes. He knew if he told James the truth that he’d feel better. Talking about things with him always helped take some of the pressure off, but he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to explain it. He’d never told anyone about the things his parents did to him. A small part of him wanted to protect them. He knew what people would think of them if they knew the truth.

“Oh, you know me, I'm clumsy,” Regulus lied. He wasn’t sure why he was lying to James. Since they’d been hanging out Regulus told James things about himself that he’d never told anyone. But there was something embarrassing about what happened with his parents. It made him feel small like a child and Regulus didn’t think he could handle James pitying him. He didn’t want to admit to James that he couldn’t stand up to his mother and father. That when it really counted he’d folded. He wasn’t Sirius and he never would be. This was a fact he’d been reminded of countless times in his life and repetitively he learned this to be true.

“No you’re not,” James countered, his concern growing. “Did someone do this to you?”

“No,” Regulus firmly insisted. 

“Does this have something to do with where you were last night-”

“Please don’t do this,” Regulus groaned, making his way to his feet. “I’m fine. I just stayed at my house for the night. Sorry I should have given you a heads up. But… this was an accident. There’s nothing to worry about.” He was used to covering his tracks but with James it was more difficult. He hated lying to him and knew James could see right through him. 

“Okay…” James muttered, still unconvinced. He watched as Regulus walked behind a curtain. He knew if he stayed there long enough James would be able to pull the truth from him and this wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. Plus, he wasn’t sure how James would respond to the information. 

He rummaged around in a dresser he had hidden away, quickly changing into a pyjama set. Regulus opened and closed drawers attempting to find something in James’s size. “I don’t have any pajamas that will fit you,” he called over to him. “You’re a bit broader in the shoulder than me.” 

“I’m allowed to stay?” James asked, sounding shocked. Normally, Regulus kicked him out before bed and on the rare occasion he did fall asleep with him there, James would leave out of respect. Regulus could tell he was waiting for an invitation to stay but he’d never been willing to give it to him. 

Until that day. 

He was still feeling raw from his night at his parents and he didn’t want to be alone. The feeling took him by surprise. Typically he was the sort of person to deal with everything on his own. However, James was a good listener and his presence was comforting. 

“I mean I can kick you out if you want?” Regulus teased, poking his head around the curtain. “You seem to like it when I’m mean to you.”

“It does turn me on a bit,” James joked, flashing him a smile. Regulus couldn’t believe he found someone who not only put up with this side of him but was excited by it. 

“Oh come on now, let’s go to sleep,” Regulus chided, flopping down onto the couch. “Pass that blanket would you?” he asked. He nodded at a fluffy blanket hanging over the edge of the couch. The couch was a bit small for both of them but they would be able to squeeze onto it. The furniture at the Emerald was a bit wider than your average home furniture. This was purposely by design, so that two people could be a bit more comfortable on one. 

James reached up and grabbed the blanket, wrinkling his nose at it. “Should I be worried about this blanket?” he huffed. “Is it clean?”

“You’re the only one who comes back here other than me,” Regulus admitted. Up until then he’d been purposely vague about these sorts of things. He didn’t see much of a point anymore. He was past the point of no return with James. Regulus knew he was in over his head. “This is my room, I sleep here sometimes.”

“I’m just taking the piss. I figured this was your room,” James told him. His arms circled around Regulus’s waist pulling him close. “Since I’m the only one who’s allowed back here does that make me special?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Regulus huffed, rolling his eyes. Still, he let James kiss his temple, running his fingers into his hair. There was never any real heat behind these sorts of comments. It was simply playful banter.

“Okay,” James whispered into his ear. “How about I flatter you instead? I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Regulus’s breath hitched and he rolled onto his side to look him in the eyes. He melted under the intensity of James’s gaze and then he did something stupid. Something very stupid. “I…” he stuttered. “I am in love with you.” It was such a delicate and vulnerable thing to admit to. He’d never thought he’d be the one to say it first. James spoke more freely about his emotions and seemed to struggle with their dynamic less. 

“Don’t  let it get to your head though,” Regulus chuckled, rolling onto his back. He couldn’t look James in the eye, scared to move or breathe. The feelings had been lurking under the surface for a while and Regulus knew it was only a matter of time before they broke free. Yet he was still terrified. “I haven’t decided If I’m happy about this turn of events or not.” It was a lazy deflection at best, but Regulus couldn’t lay there with all his soft bits on display. He had to sharpen his tongue to try and downplay the confession.

“Too late,” James groaned. “Too late it’s gotten to my head.” He pulled on Regulus’s waist, so his hard cock was pressing into his leg. Only James Potter would get hard from someone telling him they were in love with him. Regulus had to suppress a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“God, you’re insatiable,” Regulus teased, looking up at the ceiling. Even though he was still scared, he felt his lips twisting into a grin. 

“You love it…” James chuckled. He settled over Regulus, forcing them to be eye to eye. Regulus felt his cheeks heat as he looked up at him. “ You love me, ” James said, face soft and warm. He slowly planted sloppy kisses along Regulus's jaw, rolling his hips into him. The friction caused Regulus to let out a low whimper, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“Shouldn’t have told you that,” Regulus groaned, tilting his head back to give him better access to his neck. “You’re gonna be insufferable now.”

“Yes, but you love it,” James breathed against the skin of his neck. “Hey… look at me,” he pleaded, nudging his nose into Regulus’s jaw. “I love you too.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Regulus mumbled, still not meeting his eye. The last thing he wanted was to pressure someone into saying they loved him. “You said you think. I’d rather you not say it if you don’t feel it-”

“Reg, I am in love with you,” James forcefully said. “I didn’t say it because I was worried I’d freak you out.” That was a fair statement. If James had admitted to being in love with him moments earlier, he would have definitely freaked out. He wasn’t sure he wasn’t freaked out even then. 

“Well… I think I’m freaked out to be honest,” Regulus sighed, sucking in a deep breath. 

“Come here, baby.” James kissed his temple. There wasn’t anywhere for Regulus to go, he was already there . He was completely and utterly there . “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Regulus told him scrunching his eyes closed. Distantly he was aware that he was making a monumental mistake but being with James felt too good.

James was sweet and understanding. He didn’t hold it against Regulus that he sounded so uncertain. He must have known how big of a deal this was for him because he didn’t push him further. He allowed Regulus the space to process the confession. They lay together for some time, lazily kissing, soft fingers trailing across each other’s skin. 

Eventually, he let James kiss down his neck and chest, unbuttoning his cotton pyjama set. Every touch and kiss was gentle, and Regulus was sure no one had ever loved him so reverently. 

It wasn’t long till James was buried deep inside him, rolling into him lazily. Their arms were tangled together above his head, bracting Regulus’s face, James’s head rested in the crook of his neck. Regulus had never felt more wanted in his entire life. James made him feel special, like he was the most important person in the entire world. 

James’s lips grazed his neck, lightly peppering kisses there. Regulus tilted his head to the side wanting him to sink his teeth into the soft skin of his neck. It would solve most of his problems if James turned him. He wouldn’t be able to participate in Priori Incantatem any longer, and it would put himself and James on an equal playing field. Sure his parents would be mad but there would be nothing they could do, they would no longer be able to touch him. It was the easiest way out, perhaps the only one that would ever present itself. 

“Do it,” he whispered. “Please.”

James froze above him, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “No,” he firmly told him. 

“Why?” Regulus asked, his heart breaking a bit. 

“It’s not the sort of decision to be made lightly,” James explained. While he was right, Regulus doubted he would regret it… or maybe he would. He bit the inside of his cheek; drawing blood. 

“I-”

“I’m not ruling it out,” James gently told him. “I will do it if you really want me to. I just think we should talk about it more later, really think it through. You know? It can’t be undone.” 

Regulus sniffled, but nodded his head. He could see James’s perspective. It was the first time the topic ever came up, it was unrealistic to think he would do it without talking it through. Especially knowing how James had been turned. Still, he was disappointed and it planted a seed of doubt — maybe James would rather change him after Priori Incantatem. Perhaps he wanted to have a sense of ownership over him. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” James blurted, picking up his shift in mood. 

“I know,” Regulus said, pushing the thought from his mind. “I understand.” 

James closed the space between them, kissing him deeply. His hips thrust back into him and Regulus untangled his arms from James’s. Then he wrapped them around him, fingers lightly digging into the skin of his back. He wished he could hold onto James forever. That they could stay exactly the way they were but he knew there was no happy ending to be found there. If James chose him everything would change, if he didn’t someone else would. But if they were destined to be star crossed lovers, Regulus was going to enjoy every second he got with him. He would love him and be loved wholly. 

When they were done the two lay collapsed into one another. James’s fingers trailed along his collarbone and down his chest. 

“James,” Regulus whispered, rolling onto his side. “what would you do if the Hallows didn’t exist. If Priori Incantatem didn’t exist. Oh hush, I know they do but tell me a lovely little story of what our lives would be like.”

James paused for a moment to roll the question over in his mind. “I guess our lives would look like this,” he told him. “You work at the club and me harassing you. Only I wouldn’t let you sleep at the Emerald. You don’t get enough sleep here. And you’d be better fed, I know you don’t eat three meals a day. I can always tell. You work too much and forget. I would never let you forget. You’d come home and dinner would be ready. Maybe I would turn you one day… but I’d make you wait. Just long enough so that you’re a bit older than I was when I turned. That way I can say I have an older man.”

“You’re like a hundred years older than me,” Regulus chuckled. He playfully tickled along his ribs, watching James squirm and laugh. James’s laugh was a beautiful throaty sound. It sounded like bottled sunshine and Regulus would do anything to hear it. 

“I don’t make the rules-”

“You literally do,” Regulus chided, sticking out his tongue. 

“Still.” James grinned. “You would read all the books and I would waste my money on fancy art. And we would travel. We’d see everything there is to see in the world. Then when we’re done we’d just wait and watch the world change.” Regulus always suspected James was a hopeless romantic and hearing him talk about this imaginary future confirmed it for him. 

“That sounds lovely,” Regulus sighed. It was the most heart wrenching beautiful thing he could think of. It made him want to grieve the life they could have had if things had been different but there would be time for that later. He was still determined to enjoy every second of that fantasy that he could get. It was more than Regulus assumed he’d ever get in that lifetime, so he considered himself lucky to even get a fleeting moment with James. 

“Reg, I-”

“We should go to bed, Jaimie,” Regulus told him, kissing his temple. “I have an early start tomorrow.”

“But-”

“I think we’ve had enough confessions for one evening,” Regulus said, sighing deeply. He didn’t think he could handle any more vulnerability. They’d already covered too much new ground for one evening. “Don’t you think? Either go to sleep or go home.”

“Okay…” James huffed. He was clearly unhappy to be brushing the subject under the rug, but didn’t want to push him. He should have continued the conversation with James. Maybe if they’d talked things out things would have ended up different. But Regulus was content to pull the blanket up over them and go to sleep. He nuzzled his face into James’s chest and breathed a heavy sigh. It felt nice to sleep next to him, even if it was a bit cramped on the couch. 

“Good night, Reg,” James told him, kissing the top of his head. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

🖤

When Regulus woke the next morning he was still pressed against James’s chest. As he stirred, he felt his strong arms tighten around him. “Morning,” James breathed, kissing his forehead. 

“Oh, morning,” Regulus said, letting out a puff of air. “I wasn’t expecting you to stay.” 

“Why?” James asked, concern colouring his tone. “I thought you said I could stay.”

“I did,” Regulus soothed. “I’m not mad about it, just surprised.” James always left once he fell asleep, and he’d wondered if the same would happen that night. He’d wanted him to stay, but he wasn’t certain how James would react to the invitation. Part of him expected him to still leave as he normally did. 

“You tend to assume the worst in people,” James said, scowling. Regulus should have been annoyed by the comment, but he looked adorable with the slight pout on his lips. It was too distracting and Regulus couldn’t muster up any of his usual annoyance. 

“Would that be the worst of you?” Regulus teased. “Leaving before I woke up?” He found it unlikely that anyone, even James, didn’t have worse qualities. 

“Someone’s feeling spicy this morning,” James chuckled, rustling his hair. Regulus pouted sitting up. As much as he enjoyed spending time with him, he didn’t have time to banter back and forth. He had a busy day ahead of him and he’d already slept later than he meant to. It seemed sleeping next to him was a solid cure to insomnia. He slept better than he had in months. 

“Come on,” James said, nudging him with his elbow. “Let’s go get you some breakfast.”

“I slept in,” Regulus sighed, brows creasing. “I really should get started with work.” It was so late that Pandora was likely already on the floor. Typically, Regulus started his day long before she ever got to the Emerald, but as he glanced at his watch he realized how much time he’d lost. 

Regulus made to stand up, but James tugged on his arm. “Oh no,” he grumbled. “You need to eat something before you start work.”

“Fine,” Regulus said, rubbing his temples. “But you have to let me get ready.” James nodded and then watched him putter around the space getting changed and tidying up.

He pulled back one of the curtains to reveal the dresser containing an assortment of his things. “Can I have a drawer in there,” James asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Don’t push your luck.” Regulus glared at him, fishing a pair of suspenders out of the top drawer. Realistically he was going to stay there most nights now that the flood gates had opened. Regulus wasn’t going to let him in on this fact though. 

“Well if I’m going to be sleeping here from now on,” James said, leaning back with his arms behind his head. “I will need to bring some pajamas.”

“Who said you’re going to be staying here from now on?” Regulus shook his head. He'd created a monster allowing him to stay the night. Deep down he didn’t mind, but he was weary, wanting to hold on to whatever little bits of self preservation he could. 

“You didn’t have to,” James chuckled, a wide grin playing across his lips. “You loved having me here. I can tell you  slept better. You look well rested for once.” Regulus glanced at a mirror hidden behind one of the curtains, examining his face. He did notice the dark circles under his eyes were significantly less noticeable. He exhaled sharply in frustration, hating to admit that James and Pandora were probably correct. 

When Regulus was done getting ready, the two slipped out a back door onto the New York streets. Regulus vaguely worried that he was being watched and his movements would be relayed back to his parents. But he was in too good a mood to let the thought of his parents ruin the day. He would deal with the consequences later.

“Can I pick the place today?” James asked excitedly.

“Not sure if I trust someone who doesn’t even enjoy eating on their restaurant choices,” Regulus grumbled. He hated breaking from his routine, and would have preferred to go back to Bobette and Belle. However, James looked like he’d be heartbroken if he said no. 

“I can still tell when food tastes good,” James huffed, wrinkling his nose. Regulus was extremely curious about what eating human food felt like to a vampire. 

“Fine,” Regulus sighed. “But it better be good.” 

Much to Regulus’s chagrin James took him to a sit down brunch place, no doubt to squeeze a bit more time out of his day. James seemed as though he was on a mission to get Regulus to work a normal nine to five at all costs. This frustrated him to a certain extent but he had to admit he did feel better being well rested and having eaten first thing after waking up. Maybe James was onto something. 

Once they were done James followed him back to the Emerald, and he was attempting to hover around as Regulus worked. “You have to go now,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I need to get work done and I can’t do that with you distracting me.”

“Will I see you later?” James asked, pouting. Despite himself, Regulus softened and dropped his arms to his side. 

“Same time and place as usual,” Regulus teased. Realistically James would show up either way, he had a habit of strolling into the Emerald at the same time each day. 

Regulus often wondered where he went when he was gone. He supposed he went to his home or hung out with his friend Peter. He’d yet to meet any of James’s friends and was curious what they were like. It seemed like an awfully big step to take. The only reason James had met Pandora was because she was always at the club, and was a very nosey person. 

He turned to walk away but James grabbed his arm. “Hey, wait,” he grumbled. Then cupped Regulus’s chin and kissed him. “I love you.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,” Regulus said, frowning. “Am I?

“Nope,” James chuckled. Then he looked down at him, waiting for a response. Regulus felt his face flush, unsure if he would ever get used to how James made him feel. 

“I love you too.” Regulus sighed deeply, his lips quirking up at the edges. “Happy?”

“Over the moon,” James told him. The way his face lit up was one of the most beautiful things Regulus had ever seen in his entire life.

He watched James walk out the front door. The moment he was gone the weight of everything crashed over him. His eyes stung as he drew in a ragged breath. Without James there the reality of his situation seemed to lack warmth. He sunk down onto the floor, back against the wall. His body was wracked with sobs as hot angry tears slid down his cheeks. 

His emotions were intense and all consuming. He didn’t know what was more upset; the loss of the life he could have with James or the loss of his freedom if chosen. Anyway he looked at it, there was no way to win. The only way out was to turn his back on the only family he’d ever known. Even if he wanted to walk away he’d want Sirius’s help and he had no clue where he was. He wished he’d spent time looking for him, because there was hardly any time left, he felt completely backed into a corner. Somewhere deep within him a dull ember had been lit, but he hadn’t quite realized its power yet. 

“Everything okay?” he heard a voice call from down the hall. 

“Oh fuck,” Regulus mumbled. He turned to find Barty standing at the end of the hall, eyes wide as he stared down at him. “I didn’t know anyone was here. It’s fine. I’m fine.” He frantically wiped at his face attempting to hide the fact he was crying. Even though he knew there was no way to hide his red rimmed eyes. 

“Dunno mate, doesn’t seem like it,” Barty said. He walked up and took a seat next to him, leaning into the wall. “Go on then…”

Regulus lent his elbows into his knees and dropped his head against his arms. “It’s personal,” he attempted to deflect. “It wouldn’t be professional for me to talk about this with you.”

“Mate, I illegally smuggle alcohol,” Barty chuckled, knocking his elbow into his arm. “You don’t have to worry about being professional with me.”

He knew it wasn’t in his best interest to talk with Barty about what was going on. Especially when he wasn’t entirely sure he could trust him. But he was so tired and had nothing to lose. 

“You’re a vampire right?” Regulus asked, peeking over at him. He watched as Barty incredulously nodded his head. “Ever heard of the Hallows?”

“Freaky not so secret secret society of vampires,” Barty asked. Regulus thought he saw a flash of excitement in Barty’s hazel eyes but it was so quick he wondered if he was seeing things. “Might have heard of them. Have an old friend who was one.”

“Who?” Regulus wondered, brows creasing.

“I doubt you’d know him,” Barty foolishly told him. As if there was a single member of the Hallows Regulus hadn’t been taught about with religious zeal. His parents had hand bound books filled with notes on various members, including their names and facts about them. Regulus had been required to memorize flashcards with relevant information for hours when he was young. Most of the information didn’t go away, it was all locked inside him. He had the memory of an elephant, no matter how hard he tried to discard this useless information it was there taking up precious space in his mind. 

“Barty, I’m not gonna fully get into it but trust me I know all of them,” Regulus petulantly explained. “At least by name.” 

“His name is James,” Barty told him, causing Regulus to freeze. He racked his brain for any other member of the Hallows named James but couldn’t think of a single other person. “You’re looking at me like I’ve got two heads,” Barty tutted, brows drawing together. 

“James Potter?” His voice shook as he asked the question, even though he was sure he knew the answer. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“I’m meant to be his partner for Priori Incantatem,” Regulus said. His stare was fixed on the wall ahead of him, unable to look him in the eye as he spoke. “I mean I was one of the candidates and I made a series of mistakes… and now I’m in love with him.” It was the first time he’d admitted this to anyone other than James. Barty felt easy to talk to and Regulus felt himself feeling more at ease once the information was said out loud. 

“Is it such a bad thing that you love someone who you’re meant to be partnered with?” Barty asked, sounding confused. It was a valid question. One that only someone who wasn’t well acquainted with the Hallows would ask. 

“It’s not like we’re getting married,” Regulus attempted to explain. The thought of marriage — an equal partnership with James — made his chest feel like it was being ripped open. “This isn’t an equal partnership. It’s ownership.”

“Tell that to every woman who was ever married off,” Barty muttered darkly. When Regulus didn’t reply he looked over at him, resting his head onto his shoulder. “Sorry that sort of shit doesn’t help. I don’t know much about it to be honest but I see why you think that.”

“I like him a lot,” Regulus breathed. “But I can’t imagine why someone like James would want to take part in this. It’s hard to grapple with the person I know versus who he’s willing to be.” He was holding out hope that maybe there was something he was missing. Maybe James was the wonderful man he made himself out to be. “What was he like when you knew him?”

“His family had a lot of money,” Barty said, shrugging. “He’s a pretty typical wealthy guy, obsessed with status. I mean he’s in a literal secret society, that always spoke volumes to me. I’m not surprised he would take part in something like Priori Incantatem. He puts on a good show but once I knew him long enough I saw some of the cracks starting to form.”

“I guess…” Regulus’s heart dropped. He could tell Barty was holding back, wanting to say more. However, he’d said enough. Regulus could read between the lines; James cared about status more than he was letting on. It wasn’t a far leap to think Barty was letting him know he would care about something like Priori Incantatem. 

“Look, don't think too much about him, I'm sure he’s lovely,” Barty quickly backtracked. But another seed of doubt had been planted. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter much,” Regulus told him, his head hanging low. “I don’t have a choice in the matter.” They could talk in circles about James all night but it didn’t change the outcome; they’d never be able to have the lovely fantasy they were currently living in. 

“You don’t have to participate,” Barty said. “You could not go through with it.” He’d heard this sentiment before from Pandora and he understood where his friends were coming from. It seemed like the easy out, but they didn’t know Walburga and Orion Black. Anyone who’d spoken to them for even a short period of time would have understood what Regulus was up against. 

He wished Sirius was around, because he was the only person who truly knew what their parents were like. A sick part of him hated his brother for leaving. Rationally he knew why Sirius ran away, but it stung that he’d never reached out to him. He always came back to the same conclusion; that his brother hated him as much as their parents. 

“I don’t think my family will ever let that happen,” Regulus attempted to explain, knowing Barty wouldn’t understand. 

“Talk to them,” Barty suggested. “They’re your parents, I'm sure they want what’s best for you.” 

The statement was so off base Regulus almost laughed. Even Pandora with all her attempts had never gone so far to suggest he talk to his parents; she knew better. It wasn’t Barty’s fault he didn’t know who he was talking about. How could he have any clue? Still, it was a ridiculous notion. He couldn’t imagine walking into his fathers study to sit down and talk to his parents as equals. Let alone what they would do if he told them he was having second thoughts about Priori Incantatem. He’d gotten a small scratch for not following their plan, he didn’t want to think what they’d do if he was backing out. 

“Yeah… maybe…” Regulus shrugged. He didn’t want to get into all the details with someone he didn't know well. He got to his feet and held out his hand to help Barty up. “Sorry for the dramatics. Thanks for listening.”

“Any time.” Barty smiled, dusting off his pants as he stood. Then he wandered off back into the stock room and left Regulus to his own devices.

He went to the bathroom and splashed some fresh water on his face, attempting to clean himself up. Regulus couldn’t shake what Barty told him. He kept rolling the information over in his mind, letting it grow and take new shapes. Barty had merely told him one small bit of information, but Regulus let it create an entire new perspective on James. By the time he left the bathroom he felt ill. 

When he walked back out onto the floor Pandora was sitting in one of the booths, scribbling something onto a piece of paper. “Well, well, well,” she drawled. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Hey now! You’re always telling me to take more time off,” Regulus chided, sliding into the booth next to her. He tried to glance at her paper but she quickly turned it over, clearly not wanting to put more on his plate. 

“Oh I’m not complaining,” she said. “You look well rested for once.”

“You sound like James,” Regulus huffed. He wondered if he looked that exhausted all the time that people could tell from looking at him, or if Pandora and James were simply watching him closer than others. He privately wondered why he was so resistant to their worries. Surely he should want to take better care of himself, however, he didn’t see a point in it. 

“Uh huh… you two look-”

“Stop,” he groaned, wishing he hadn’t brought James up. He didn’t think he had the mental strength to have the same conversation for a second time that day. Maybe if she’d let the topic go he would have continued on the way things were. He would have accepted James’s love and let it run out through the end of their tryst. But she didn’t and he instead bent until he broke.

“Cute,” Pandora teased. “You’re all cute and coupley and I’m kind of obsessed with you two.”

“I hate you,” Regulus said, kicking her in the shin. 

“No you don’t.” She rolled her eyes. “Ouch! Stop that. No need to get violent.” He kicked her again for good measure. “Ouch, fuck. How are things with you two?”

“Do you want me to kick you again?” Regulus asked, glaring at her. He wasn’t above it, he’d happily give her a permanent shin splint. 

“Come on Reg. It’s me…” she soothed. He muttered a string of curse words under his breath, looking up at the ceiling. 

“I’m in love with him,” Regulus bluntly told her. If she wanted to know the truth he would give it to her. It looked like he was going to be having this conversation for a second time, whether he liked it or not. She let out a surprise puff of air, clearly shocked at the strength of his feelings. “Yup,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. 

“And how do we feel about that?” Pandora asked, eyes narrowing on him. He fidgeted under her gaze, feeling as though she was looking directly into his soul. He wished she’d tell him what she saw there, because he was sure she had a better idea of it than he did. Everything felt jumbled. He had so many conflicting thoughts and feelings that he was surprised they hadn’t exploded out of him yet. 

“Shouldn’t being in love feel good?” Regulus sheepishly looked down at his feet. Of course it felt good when he was with James, but he couldn’t ignore the entire breakdown he’d had the moment he left. It was too difficult to be faced with the complexities of their situation. 

“Right but I know you,” Pandora gently said. “I know this is more complicated than just being in love.”

“What?” Regulus asked, sounding aloof. “You wouldn’t happen to be referring to the freaky vampire secret society ceremony my parents have offered me up to be a part of would you?”

“Yeah that…” she chuckled. 

“We’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” Regulus shrugged. He was attempting to not let the emotions swell and overwhelm him again. He didn’t want to have a complete breakdown, when he’d only just scraped himself back together. “So I’m just going to enjoy this while it lasts.” If there was nothing he could do to change the situation he was just going to let it run its course and deal with the consequences later. Losing James would be the greatest loss of his life, but he’d rather have him now then never have him at all. 

“Couldn’t you-”

“That is what I’ve decided,” Regulus firmly told it. “That’s it. There’s nothing else left to do or say.”

“Okay… I’m gonna be honest, I’m worried about you,” she carefully told him. “I like James, he’s wonderful and I can tell you love him. It’s so clear you two care deeply for one another. But this situation is a bit concerning. I know you think there’s nothing you can do to change the outcome but i think you should sit down and talk to him. He doesn’t even know you feel this way. You’re taking the choice away from him.”

“It won’t change anything,” he said, raising his voice. “Can you just let it go?”

“You act like you don’t have any choice in any of this?” Pandora’s voice was on the edge of shouting. It was the closest the two had ever come to a fight before. Regulus wasn’t even sure he disagreed with her. Everything she was saying was correct on paper. The problem was things weren’t that simple. “But you do. You don’t have to do what your parents say.” 

“I don’t have a choice,” Regulus shouted. He ran his fingers into his hair gripping it at the root. “You need to stop. This isn’t any of your business. You’re always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Leave me be.” 

“You have a choice,” she said, running her hands through her hair. “I don’t get this power your family has over you.” 

“Just drop it okay?” Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose, tears rolling down his cheeks. He hated crying and hated that this was the second time he’d done it in one day. He could hear his mother’s harsh words in his mind every time he broke down and cried. What was worse, was feeling the ghost of her violent hands across his skin.

“Oh fuck,” Pandora huffed, shuffling closer to him. She pulled her arm around his shoulder, hugging him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine,” Regulus stuttered. “I’m fine.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed rubbing his back. 

As he sat there crying in Pandora’s arms, something broke inside him. He didn’t want to imagine how much worse this would be in the end when things inevitably ended poorly with James. He couldn’t let himself get any further into this things with him. “I have to stop,” he sobbed. “I can’t do this with him. It’s going to break me and I don’t know if I’ll be able to put myself back together.”

“Reg talk-”

“No,” Regulus said, shaking his head. “I thought I could do this but I can’t. I can’t let this go any further. It’s going to destroy me.”

“Okay,” Pandora softly whispered. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Chapter Text

viii.

James Potter, New York, 1920

When James showed up at the Emerald, he immediately knew something was wrong. He took one look at Regulus and it was clear something had happened in the time they were apart. It was clear from the stiffness through his shoulders that Regulus had that stoney demeanor he’d had when James first met him. 

He was sitting at the bar. As James walked up, he watched him tip back the entirety of the glass, draining it. He’d never seen Regulus drink, let alone while the club was open and there were patrons there. It seemed to be against his deeply held convictions about his job. 

As he got closer, James could smell the booze on him.  Sighing heavily, he took the seat next to him. “Hey Reg,” he said, attempting to hide the concern from his voice. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” Regulus slurred. “I’m fine.” But he clearly wasn’t fine . His eyes were clouded, and he swayed slightly on the stool. Regulus was far too drunk, and James was certain that if he wasn’t the bartender’s boss, they would have refused to serve him much earlier.

“Come on,” James mumbled, sliding off his stool. He lightly grabbed his arm. “Let’s- 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Regulus snapped. He cringed back. Regulus had never spoken to him in this way. Not even when they first met. 

“Whoa,” James tutted, throwing his hands up in defense. “Okay, I won’t, but let’s go to bed, yeah?”

To James’s surprise, he followed him to the back room. He’d assumed Regulus was going to give him a hard time, considering how upset he seemed only moments before. The club was busy that night, and the two had to weave their way through the crowd. Regulus bumped into a few people, drawing some stares. James mumbled apologies to people, ushering him back to the safety of the velvet curtains.

The moment they were in Regulus’s room, he was on James. Frantically kissing him and trying to pull off his jacket. For a moment, James got lost in the sensation of kissing him. His hands slid into Regulus’s hair, their bodies perfectly slotted together. However, the moment was short-lived because James could taste the gin on his tongue. His movements were sloppy and frantic, in a way that was uncharacteristic of Regulus. He was normally in control of his body and his movements and carried himself with grace. The moment felt cheap and made James’s stomach churn. 

“Stop,” James firmly told him, gripping his wrists. “I don’t feel good about this.”

“You don’t want me?” Regulus asked, tittering back and forth. He felt horrible turning him down, but it was the right thing to do. 

“I do,” James sympathetically explained. “But not like this. Not when you’re so drunk you can’t even see straight.”

“Fine,” Regulus said, plunking down onto the couch. He grabbed the nearest blanket and curled into himself. He looked completely despondent. Tilting his head, he observed James from across the room. He was worried Regulus would snap at him again, to kick him out. He didn’t know what he’d do in that case. He’d probably have to find Pandora because he didn’t seem in a fit state to be left to his own devices. 

“Did something happen at work today?” James carefully asked, sitting beside him. 

“Bad day,” Regulus mumbled, laying down. He visibly relaxed as James ran his fingers into his black waves. James was having a hard time keeping up with his mood swings. He couldn’t figure out what would set Regulus off or not. But he seemed to be fine with James playing with his hair, so he continued. He massaged his head, watching as Regulus’s eyes blinked closed and he fell asleep. James sighed, feeling relieved that he passed out. That way, he could sleep off his drunken state. 

James sat watching him sleep for sometime, counting his breaths as he watched Regulus’s chest rise and fall. He wondered what had gotten him worked up like that. He considered going to find Pandora, but thought that might be an invasion of his privacy. Instead, he opted to go to bed. They could talk about it in the morning. 

Only the opportunity never came because when James woke, Regulus was already gone. The nauseous feeling James had from the previous night only intensified as he wandered through the empty club to find Pandora. 

He first checked in backstage in her dressing room and then moved down to the stockrooms. It didn’t take long till he found her in the costume closet. “Hey,” she said, looking up from her a box of makeup supplies. She looked sad as she bit her lip and said, “I’m assuming you’re looking for Reg?”

“Yeah,” James mumbled, sheepishly. He hated what he was about to do. Pandora was Regulus’s best friend, and this was going to put her between the two of them. However, he needed the truth, even if it was only a small portion of it. 

“Fucking hell,” she huffed, rubbing her temples. “I thought he talked to you before he left. He’s taking the week off.”

“Oh…” James’s stomach dropped like a stone in water. Regulus needed a week off work, that was clear. However, he couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t tell him. It was made worse by the fact he didn’t even know where he lived or his phone number. There was no way for him to contact him at all. James considered asking Pandora where he’d gone, or for the address to his house. But he figured doing that would put her in an uncomfortable situation. “When is he back?”

“Friday,” she told him. “He’s such a dramatic soul. Just give him some space.” James’s throat bobbed as he realized there was, in fact, something going on. He knew he wasn’t likely to get many answers out of Pandora, so he went home.

The week stretched on at a torturous pace. He tried his best to keep himself distracted. He went to the tracks to bet on horses with Peter and met up with the Hallows for drinks. Despite that, James couldn’t shake what had happened. He couldn’t understand what had happened in those few hours since he’d been away from Regulus. One moment they were confessing their love for one another, and the next he had completely shut him out. He was trying to tell himself it was nothing personal, but he couldn’t help thinking perhaps this was the case.

By the time that Friday rolled around, James had too much pent up energy. He’d analyzed the situation from all sides, only to feel even more confused. When he showed up at the Emerald, he quickly realized things hadn’t blown over. Regulus was in the centre of the floor, being propped up by Pandora, visibly drunk. 

James hurried over and hooked his arm under Regulus’s shoulder. “Here, let me help,” he offered.

To his surprise, Regulus squirmed away from him, whining, “go away.” He tittered back and forth, almost falling before Pandora caught his arm to steady him.

“Did I do something?” James asked, his voice heavy with hurt. “You’ve been blowing me off all the whole week.” This was neither the time nor the place, but James’s patients was wearing thin. 

“I don’t want to see you right now,” he hissed. “Leave me alone.”

“But Reg-”

“James just… one second,” Pandora huffed. “Fuck Reg, you’re too drunk to be on the floor. Go to the back room before you make a scene. Go. Now. Please lay down or something.”

Regulus walked off, swaying as he walked. The moment he was gone, James turned to ask Pandora what was going on, but she put up a finger. “Not here,” she firmly told him. James liked Pandora. She was a good friend to Regulus and had the same level of passion for the Emerald that he did. 

He let her lead him into her dressing room backstage. It was the first time he’d been in her dressing room, and James found it to be rather glamorous. She had a rack of shimmering costumes and a vanity table with bottles and tubes of makeup. His eyes skated around the room, taking it all in, and then watched as she dramatically plunked down into a chair. 

“What’s going on with him?” James asked, rubbing his temples. 

“He had a rough week,” Pandora said, exhaling. “He was trying to blow off some steam and got a bit too drunk.” James couldn’t help but think this was a massive understatement of what was going on. He and Regulus hadn’t spent more than a day apart since they met, and while Regulus could be closed off, he’d never been this cold to him. He wasn’t sure he could easily write the situation off as him being drunk. There was clearly something bigger going on. 

“I’ve never seen him drink before,” James pushed. “Is this normal? Should I-”

“I’ll take care of him,” Pandora told him. She pursed her lips, a sad look in her eyes. It was clear she was holding back information. “I think he just needs some space.” 

“Is he mad at me?” James pleaded. He needed to know what was going on, and he didn’t think he could go back to his house to spend the night without answers. If he was to be sent away without speaking to Regulus, he needed something solid to ruminate on; so he could make a plan. “Did I do something?”

“James…”

“Please, I’m just trying to understand what’s going on,” he begged. “He told me he loved me and then… this. What am I supposed to think?”

“I don’t think he’s mad at you,” Pandora told him. “I think it’s more complicated than that. I think this entire situation is a lot for him, though. Look, he’s my best friend. It’s not my place to speak on his behalf, but you two should talk. You can’t just keep pretending you’re a normal couple. This is ridiculous.”

James blinked at her. He hadn’t realized the ceremony had been weighing on him so heavily. Sure, he knew it was a bit of a tense topic, but not to this extent. “This is all about Priori Incantatem?” James asked, brows creasing. 

“No offense, James, but I realize this shit seems normal to you, but it’s not.” Her words were more gentle than he deserved. James felt incredibly stupid for not realizing how big this issue was sooner. “How could he not be upset about it? I know I’m one hundred percent overstepping and Reg will kill me if he ever finds out about this. So you better not tell him. But this has been really hard on him. His parents are putting an insane pressure on him and he’s like totally in love with you. Which shouldn’t be a bad thing, but to him it is because he thinks no matter what happens, he’s losing something. He either loses you or his freedom and he’s honestly probably right. So just fucking talk to him. Okay?”

None of this was a complete shock to James. He’d gotten to know Regulus pretty well over the time they’d spent together. It was no secret he was afraid of his parents. James was almost one hundred percent sure the Black’s caused the ugly cut across his face. He could feel the heady desperation Regulus got when he spoke about his family, or of his brother Sirius. James wasn’t stupid. He could see the pressure they’d put on him when it came to Priori Incantatem. He was even aware Regulus didn’t want to go through with it. Of course, he’d never said it out loud. James wasn’t sure if he even consciously knew it. 

However, he’d never stopped to think about his role in that pressure. He foolishly thought that being in love solved some problems. At least if Regulus was to be chosen, it was someone he shared mutual love with. He’d completely failed to see the obvious. Regulus thought their relationship wouldn’t last if he was chosen… and he was probably right. James had always been a bit of an idealist. He tended to see the best in every situation. Which is probably why he’d never stopped to think about how things would change after Priori Incantatem. If he was honest, he thought they’d stay the same. 

The problem was now that he was faced with Regulus’s obvious distaste for the ceremony; he didn’t know how to proceed. James would never pick someone who didn’t want to be chosen. But he wanted to be with Regulus above all else. Worse than that, he knew if he didn’t choose him, someone else would and that simply could not happen. 

James had only been mulling the situation over for a single minute. If Regulus had been feeling this way for a while, he could understand how confused and upset he must be. He wished Regulus came to talk to him. Even though he was confused, he was sure they could work things out if they simply talked to one another. No solution would be perfect, but working it out together would be better than blindly entering a grim future. 

“Okay…” he muttered. As he nodded his head, James was determined to sit Regulus down and talk things through with him. They needed to figure this out before it was too late. 

“Don’t make me regret liking you as a person,” Pandora said, jamming her finger into his chest. “And for fucksake don’t tell him I said anything. Got it?”

“Got it,” James told her. “And I promise I’ll talk to him. I mean, if he’ll let me near him.”

“Tomorrow night,” she said. “I’ll make sure he’s here and sober. Now I’ve gotta go deal with the princess.”

“A bit drunk to be a princess, don’t you think?” James teased. 

“What do you think they did at all those balls?” Pandora chuckled. He thought back to all those wonderful nights on his parents’ estate. His mother’s balls had always been nothing short of spectacular. He knew all too well how much booze was required for an event of that nature. 

“Yeah, I was normally pretty wasted whenever my family had one,” James agreed. Her head snapped toward him, as if she’d momentarily forgotten how old he was. 

“Right.” She shook her head, walking toward the door. “Didn’t realize…”

“That I was that old?” James laughed, properly laughed for the first time that week. It felt good to joke around with her and he hoped there would be many more opportunities in the future if he and Regulus sorted things out. 

If.

He couldn’t even think of the alternative. There had to be something he could do to fix things. 

“That you were that rich,” Pandora countered. “And god you’re like a grandpa. A really hot grandpa.”

“Thanks?” James said as the two walked through the club. “I think?”

“I mean, you’re not really my type,” Pandora explained. “Technically speaking. But I’ve got eyes… and you should see the way the girls talk about you backstage. They-”

“I think I’m good with not knowing,” James chuckled. “Take care of him?”

“Always,” she promised, before heading off. It was a small consolation, but at least he knew Regulus would be safe with her. 

The next day when James found Regulus in his room. He wasn’t drunk, but he didn’t look much better. His eyes were rimmed red, cheeks sallow. James hated how distressed he looked. James wanted to scoop him into his arms and protect him from the world; to never let anything hurt him ever again.

He slowly approached him. Kneeling in front of him, he carefully placed his hands on Regulus’s knees. “Reg,” he softly breathed, afraid he’d be sent away. “Please don’t kick me out.

To his surprise, tears welled up in Regulus’s eyes. “Do you hate me?” he whispered. 

“I could never hate you,” James told him. “But I am upset.”

“I’m sorry,” Regulus choked out. He frantically pulled on James’s hands, tugging him on top of him. James knew he should have stopped him, but he was weak. He lost himself in the feel of Regulus’s hands slipping under his shirt, eagerly grasping his waist. He could feel Regulus hard against his leg, making his head feel dizzy. 

“Please forgive me,” Regulus whimpered. It was a heart-wrenching, broken sound that ripped James’s chest wide open. He wished Regulus had trusted him enough to talk to him. While James had been confused and hurt — he’d never been mad at him — especially once he knew what he was upset about.

“You’ve got a lot on your mind,” James murmured, kissing down his neck. “We should talk.”

“Not now,” Regulus begged. “Just distract me.”

The last thing they needed was to avoid the situation any longer. However, the week had been so hard on James. Being away from Regulus, not knowing what was going had been rather disorienting. Having Regulus below him warm and pliant was intoxicating, and James was a weak man. Especially when it came to Regulus Black.

He methodically stripped Regulus of his clothes. Then he bent him over the edge of the armrest. Regulus trembled under James’s touch as he ran a finger down his spine. James stopped to splay his hand across the small of his back. He let out a low rumble as Regulus arched his back into his touch, bending to his will. 

James knew Regulus was too good for him, too good for anyone, really. He deserved to be worshipped, and he was determined to do his best. He dropped to his knees, and as his tongue darted in, Regulus let out a small gasp. His body jolted forward in shock, before finally relaxing back, attempting to chase after James’s tongue. Regulus reached his hand back and pressed his face further into him, making James groan loudly while he was being eaten out. 

Regulus freely whimpered and moaned, as James added a finger and then another, licking around them the entire time. 

“James, please,” Regulus begged, and who was he to deny him? 

He made his way to his feet and let in, breathing Regulus in. “I love you,” he breathed. He unfastened his belt. He dropped his pants down just enough to line himself up and slowly thrust into him, bottoming out. 

James wrapped his arms around Regulus and pulled him back against his chest. His hand slid up his front, lightly resting his hand at the base of his neck, holding him in place. His touch was soft, lazily rolling his hips into Regulus. 

“I love you too,” Regulus said, so low James almost missed it. His chest felt warm, hearing the words, no matter how quiet they were. It was clear Regulus was afraid of it and the weight they held. James’s heart felt as though it was being wrung out and he wished loving him wasn’t complicated. 

“One day you won’t be afraid of how you feel about me,” James told him. He wrapped his free hand around Regulus’s body. He thrust into him, matching his hand to his pace. Regulus’s body when taught in his arms, tensing around James’s cock. 

“I know,” Regulus agreed, frantically nodding his head. He was always the most honest and vulnerable when his inhibition was dropped like this. ‘We’re inevitable. I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”

They didn’t last long after having been apart the entire week, but when they finally crashed over the edge, it was incredible. He only wished he could have seen Regulus’s face when he came, because it was always beautiful. 

James settled on the couch when they were done. Watching as Regulus stood across from him, fastening a robe closed. “I should go,” he told him coldly. The vulnerability he’d shown moments earlier melted away. James was having great difficulty suppressing his disappointment. For a moment, he’d gotten a glimpse of a path forward, but instead, they’d taken a step back. He felt like he was getting whiplash.  

“Can’t you stay for a bit?” James pleaded, unable to hide the sound of desperation in his voice. “I want to talk to you. I haven’t seen you all week.” He held his breath, praying Regulus would give him an inch. 

“I’m sorry about this week. That was wrong of me,” Regulus said, his shoulders stiffening. “What do you want to talk about?” 

“Nothing in particular,” James mumbled, looking down at his hands. “I want to know how your week is going.” Regulus sighed, as he worried his bottom lip. He took a seat next to him, waiting for James to speak. “You look tired,” James whispered. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

He wanted to have the conversation Pandora told him to have, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet. He needed to ease them into that. Regulus was still looking at him with that closed off expression and James was sure if he pushed him it wouldn’t end well for him.

Regulus closed his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “No, I have a lot on my mind,” he admitted. Typically, he would lie about these sorts of things. He’d pretend everything was fine; that he’d eaten enough, slept enough, and that everything was great. No matter how intimate they became, these were the sorts of things Regulus could never admit to. But that day he looked too exhausted to hide it. “Things have been complicated behind the scenes at the club. I love this place, but it’s been full on… on top of everything else.”

“When did you open the club?” James asked, gently squeezing his thigh.

Regulus’s eyes snapped open, looking down at James’s hand. “Stop,” he said, making his way to his feet. “We’re not doing this, okay?”

“Did I do something wrong?” James asked, sounding exacerbated. He couldn’t figure out what misstep he’d taken. Things seemed to be better between them momentarily.

James took a moment to collect himself. He felt as if his heart was being wrung out. His eyes stung as he walked through the back area of the club. As he got to the edge of the curtains, James stopped dead in his tracks. He heard the sound of a voice he’d recognize anywhere. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew with absolute certainty that Barty Crouch Jr. was standing on the other side of the curtain, talking to Regulus. 

Everything clicked into place; Regulus’s sudden stoney demeanor made perfect sense. Barty had gotten his claws into him, doing what he always did, causing trouble for James. 

“I didn’t know you worked the back rooms?” Barty asked. Listening to him talk to Regulus made him want to throw up. His throat bobbed as he stood behind the curtain weighing his options. 

“It wasn’t a client-”

James pushed past the curtain, coming face to face with Barty. Whose eyes widened as they landed on him. He had that same look in his eyes; the one he got whenever James caught him doing something he shouldn’t be doing. This frustrated him to no end. Barty acted as though James was his conscience, which was an absurd pressure to put on someone else. Especially when that person didn’t want a relationship with him. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” James said between gritted teeth. He was trying his best to not lose his temper, knowing that would do him no good. But a loud, dominant part of him wanted to rip Barty’s throat out — this was the predator in him — the part of himself he worked so hard to suppress. Since he’d gotten older, this wasn’t difficult to do on a regular day. However, when he was mad, it took some effort to stamp it down. 

“James?” Barty breathed, his eyes darting between him and Regulus. He was no doubt plotting his next move, but James wasn’t about to let him manipulate the situation any further. 

“How do you know each other?” James asked, looking directly at Regulus. He had no desire to hear what Barty had to say; it would only be more deceptions and lies. 

“We-” 

“I didn’t ask you,” James cut in, his eyes never leaving Regulus’s face.

“Barty is my friend,” Regulus explained. “He’s the rum runner for the club.”

“Of course he is,” James muttered under his breath. “Please, Reg, just talk to me. Give me ten minutes and if you don’t want to talk to me after that, I will leave you alone.” His mind was racing. He needed to finally sit Regulus down and talk with him before Barty could get more involved in the situation. 

Barty’s eyes darted between the two. “But-”

“Stay out of this,” James growled, baring his teeth. It was rare for him to act as the predator he was, but Barty always brought out the worst in him. He pushed him to the edge every time. The fact he’d been meddling in his relationship with Regulus had him on edge. Barty’s involvement made the already complicated and delicate situation worse. “For once in your life, just leave me alone.”

Barty shrunk back, nodding his head. He still looked at them with a cold, assessing stare that concerned James. It was clear he hadn’t given up on his twisted plan. He was merely reassessing his options. James knew he would have to deal with that later. He needed to speak to Regulus first. That was more important. Regulus would always come first.

When James turned to Regulus, he found him with his head tilted. He was looking between him and Barty, attempting to understand the situation. James could almost see the cogs turning. 

“It doesn’t have to be ten minutes,” Regulus finally told him. “You can take as much time as you need. I think this conversation is long overdue.” James sighed in relief and followed him back into his room.

“Is this why you’ve been pulling away from me?” James asked. Tears pooled in his eyes, the emotions of the week finally catching up with him. Barty being at the Emerald was the thing finally tipped him over the edge. Barty truly would stop at nothing to mess with his life. He would do everything he could to weasel his way back to James. He wondered how long he’d been stalking them, and how much he’d seen during that time. It made his skin crawl, thinking of all the private moments he’d potentially been privy to. “I couldn’t understand it, but now it all makes sense.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about Barty being here,” Regulus said, clutching his robe to hold it closed as he spoke. “He’s a rumrunner. Took over operation after our last supplier fell through. We became friends. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Did he tell you how we know each other?” James hissed. He wanted to shake Regulus, to make him see reason.

“He said you’re old friends,” Regulus explained. Friends . James could have laughed out loud at the idea of him and Barty merely being friends. 

“He was my first love,” James blurted. “Remember? The one I told you about? That’s him. The one my parents allowed me to live with on my estate? We got back together for a bit last year. He’s been trying to get me back ever since.” The words gushed out of him. There was more he wanted to say. James wanted to tell Regulus every little detail so he could understand the magnitude of the situation. However, he only had a limited amount of time. 

“But he…” Regulus stammered. “I thought… I mean, I didn’t fully trust him, but he was there for me and it meant a lot.” James felt pained to see the hurt on his face. It was clear Barty had done a number on him. He knew from experience how easy it was to trust Barty. He could be a lovely and supportive person but he could also be wild and unkempt. At the end of the day, he would only ever look out for himself. There were many times in James’s life that he thought Barty could change, but it had been nearly one hundred years and he was worse than ever. 

“Come on Reg, you’re a smart guy,” James pleaded. He stepped toward him, gripping him by the shoulders. “Isn’t it convenient that your alcohol supplier fell through and Barty, of all people, comes and saves the day?”

“You think he was lying to me?” Regulus asked, his voice cracking. It was difficult for him to open up to people, and James knew this sort of betrayal would be difficult for him to process. Even if he’d never fully trust Barty, a part of him had. Barty clearly saw something private and for someone like Regulus, that would be difficult to grapple with. James felt terrible that he was the one who had to deliver this sort of news to him, but it needed to be done. He couldn’t lose Regulus because of Barty. 

“I’m sorry, but yes,” James firmly said. “That’s exactly what I think.”

Regulus sat down on the edge of the couch, his head hanging low. “You were the wealthy man he dated when he was younger?” he asked, running his fingers into his hair. If James thought he hated Barty, he for sure did at that moment. Watching Regulus in such distress made James loathe him even more. 

“Yes,” James breathed, surprised he’d mentioned their relationship even in passing.

“Sorry,” Regulus mumbled. “I’m just trying to sort out what’s real and what’s not.” How many times had James felt this exact sentiment when thinking about Barty? He had this way of distorting reality in your mind. James knew how confusing the entire thing could be. He’d spent years of his life attempting to sort of what was real and what wasn’t. 

James sat beside him, taking Regulus’s hand into his palm. “Every minute we’ve been together has been real,” he told him. He had to make him understand. He’d been in love with him long before he’d ever admitted it to Regulus. James didn’t know how he could go on without him in his life. “Please, believe in us .” One tear rolled slowly down his cheek and James reached up to gently brush it away. 

“It doesn’t matter there is no us…” Regulus sniffled, motioning to the room around them. “All of this, the club, what happens here in these back rooms it’s all just smoke and mirrors; a lovely fantasy. But the second we leave these curtains were us again — you’re James Potter and I’m Regulus Black. We can’t ever escape that.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” James insisted. What James didn’t say is that there was no James Potter without Regulus Black. He wanted to say it, but the words died on his tongue. They don’t take shape, he wasn’t able to form them. 

“Don’t get used to this, James,” Regulus said, more tears rolling down his cheeks. “If you don’t pick me, this is over and if you do, you own me. There’s no future here. Not one that involves the me you see back here. Not one with the person you think you’re in love with.” There it was, the truth was finally laid bare between them. Now that it had been verbalized, it felt that much more daunting. James knew that whatever he said and did from here would define the rest of his life. 

He wanted to tell him he was wrong. He wanted to tell him nothing would change if he was chosen. However, James had grown up around the chosen. He knew it wasn’t so simple. The ceremony changed things. The person was never the same again. Instead, he took Regulus’s face into his hands and gently kissed him. He felt Regulus melt into him as a heavy, sweet sorrow wrapped around them.

James’s hands found his hips, their lips crashing together. They fell back against the couch, Regulus climbing into his lap. James’s head fell back along the edge of the couch. As he looked up at Regulus, he wanted to remember him in the dim light of the back room - the soft shadows across his face, his eyes big and bright. There was a light dusting of pink across the bridge of his nose, an uncharacteristic look of uncertainty on his face. He was so beautiful and it killed James to think he might lose him. 

Regulus’s fingers trace the lines of James’s face, as he though he was drawing him. James let his eyes flutter closed, getting lost in the feel of his fingertips along his skin. Regulus gingerly kissed along his jaw and down his neck. He instinctively lifted to allow James to pull out his cock, so he could sink down onto it. James let’s 0ut a small groan as Regulus lazily rolled into him. His eyes were still closed as he pushed his silk robe up his thighs, bunching it at his hips. 

“I bought the club the day I turned 18,” Regulus whispered. His voice wavered slightly. The two still roll into one another. Neither of them were in a rush to meet the edge, though. They simply wanted to be together; skin on skin. “My parents almost didn’t let me. I don’t even know how I convinced them. Dancing... it’s an art. I hardly dance anymore and know I’m not likely to in the future. It breaks my heart.”

In nearly one hundred years, James had never put much thought into the ceremony. Maybe if his parents were vampires, he would have put more thought into it. He couldn’t imagine either of them partaking in it. They wouldn’t have done a thing like that. But for those like him, it was such a commonplace thing that he’d never stopped to think about its cost. It wasn’t something he’d relished in, like his peers. Still, it never occupied space in his head. 

Till then. 

It was the thought of Regulus acting as an ornament, a thing to exist at his side, that made James’s stomach churn. He had no desire to cage him; to snuff out that spark in his eyes. But they were locked in, merely cogs in a larger system. He wished his parents were still alive. They’d know what to tell him. But they’d been gone for years. 

James gripped Regulus’s hips, causing him to still. He watched as Regulus’s head quirked to the side, his lips parted in question. 

“Dance for me,” James told him. 

Instantly Regulus slid off his lap. His face lit as he found a rhythm to the music that flowed through the back room. Regulus looked happiest when he was dancing. He always needed a reason to dance. He never did it unprovoked and James couldn’t understand why. It clearly made him happy. 

He only had on the silk robe, but he made the most of it, using it to skillfully cover himself. Regulus slowly uncovered the pale skin hidden beneath. James had kissed every inch of that skin, yet it was still a thrill to watch. His eyes stung, and he knew he couldn’t do it. He could never cage this beautiful soul. No one deserved to be owned, but it would be a tragedy to see Regulus reduced that. 

Finally, when James couldn’t bear it anymore, he slid from the couch, dropping to his knees. He crawled toward him. Regulus turned to him. As he watched him, his eyes were narrowing on James. 

Regulus was partially wrapped in the silk robe, and James had to resist the urge to tear it from his body. But he had other priorities. He ran his hands up Regulus’s thighs, looking up at him. He felt like a man dying of thirst, and Regulus was the only thing to quench that thirst. 

“I won’t choose you,” James said, his voice sounded raw but steady — certain. 

Regulus’s lips turned down at the edges, but he nodded. There were storms in his eyes, an odd mixture of relief and sadness.

James’s throat bobbed. “But I still want to be with you,” he continued. “If you’ll have me.”

He watched as Regulus’s eyes widened with recognition. One hand clutched his silk robe to his body, while the other darted down — gripping James’s shoulder to steady himself. “My parents-“

“Can go fuck themselves,” James curtly told him. He knew well enough if Regulus wasn’t picked by James, his family would make him wait for the next in line. Would it be Dolohov or maybe Carrow? A shiver ran down James’s spine, thinking of their greedy hands across Regulus’s skin.

He only had one shot at this, to convince him that was a bad idea. And if he only got one shot, he was going to make the most of it. “It’s your life to live, not theirs,” he told him. Regulus was silent, his eyes big and bright; almost hopeful. “Your brother did it, you could too. We can go find him if you want. I could change you. I promise when I said no, it wasn’t because I don’t want to. I just want you to think it through. We could do anything. Just please... I want to be with you. I don’t care about the rest of the details.”

“You don’t know my parents,” Regulus said, his voice sounding small. He didn’t know what Regulus’s parents had done to make him afraid of them. But he was sure if he ever found out, it wouldn’t be pretty because even without the details, James wanted to kill them. He wanted to wipe the Black’s from the face of the Earth for daring to even attempt to dim Regulus’s light. 

“You’re scared of them?” James asked, trying his best to hide his distaste.

“It’s complicated,” Regulus attempted to explain. “Yes I’m afraid of them, but it’s more than that. Being a Black means something. I’d be turning my back on everything I’ve ever known. It’s the only place I’ve ever belonged. It’s what makes me special.” James couldn’t believe his ears. To him, the fact Regulus was a Black was the least remarkable thing about him. He could easily think of a hundred things big and small that made Regulus the most special person on the face of the Earth. 

“You’re special all on your own,” he firmly told him. “You belong here…” James said, motioning around the room, indicating the club. “And here ,” he continued, placing a hand over his heart. “You deserve to live a life where you get to show every special part of you, instead of hiding all your beautiful bits from the world.” James wanted Regulus, the real him, not some version of him that was manufactured by his parents. He’d never have fallen in love with that version, not when the real thing was right there laying under the surface. 

“What about the Hallows?” Regulus reminded him.

“I never wanted to be one of them anyway,” James shrugged. Sure, he’d found much needed community there, but he didn’t need that anymore, not when he had Regulus. Plus, he was sure Peter and a few of the other members would continue to be his friend, regardless of whether he remained a Hallow or not. None of it mattered, though, he’d find his way in life the way he’d done before. All of it would be worth it if he got to do that with Regulus by his side. “You mean more to me than some silly secret society.” He knew it was a big deal, and he didn’t have all the details worked out, but there would be time for that.

Regulus’s hand, the one on his shoulder, tightened. “Of all the stupid things,” Regulus mumbled. “James, stand up.”

There was a lump in James’s throat and his mouth felt dry, but he did as Regulus said. He made his way to his feet. His eyes darted around his face, attempting to read his expression. However, Regulus’s face was as unreadable as ever. Sometimes James wished he could read his mind. “Can you say something?” he pleaded.

A small laugh bubbled out of Regulus. “Yes,” he breathed, his lips quirking up at the edges. 

“To which part?” James asked, feeling stunned. He could hardly believe what he was hearing.

“All of it.” A true smile broke across Regulus’s face. “Yes, I want to be with you.” 

“My parents are going to kill me,” Regulus said, drawing in a shaky breath. At first, James thought he was making a joke, but when he looked closer, he could see the fear in his eyes. “I mean, they literally might try to kill me.”

“Let them try,” James fiercely insisted. He’d do everything in his power to keep Regulus safe. He’d spend money to get security or whisk him away to another country. They could lie low for a while, wait for them to die and then live their lives happily. The details didn’t matter, they could work that out later. All that mattered was that he and Regulus were going to be together. 

James pulled his arms around his waist, lifting him off the ground and spinning him. “Uff, put me down,” he huffed. “Let me put proper clothing on.” 

James slid his hand under the silk robe to cup his ass. “No,” James chuckled, unable to keep a smile off his face. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“Later,” Regulus said, batting James’s hands away. “I want to go home first.”

“Home?” James asked, blinking at him in disbelief. He’d always wondered what his house was like. He didn’t even know where it was. It had been such a big deal when James stayed the night at the Emerald. But James supposed things were about to change. They would no longer be living on borrowed time. He felt a flash of excitement, thinking of all the things the two would get to do together. They could act like a normal couple, instead of sleeping on a couch in the back of a brothel. 

“Yes, well, I don’t live at the club,” Regulus chuckled, as he fished his clothing off the floor. “Do you expect us to sleep here?” 

“Reg, you kind of do live here,” James teased. “You’ve never mentioned wanting to sleep at your place.”

“Would you rather we sleep here on that cramped couch?” Regulus tutted, putting his hands on his waist. It was still hard for him to understand that they were going to Regulus’s home. He needed some time to process the entire conversation they’d had. But he wasn’t about to turn down his offer. 

“No,” James said, unable to stop smiling. This was everything he wanted and more. Sure, there was still a lot they needed to sort out, but there would be time for that.

Chapter Text

c.

James Potter, New York, 1919

It had been just under one hundred years since James had been back to New York. He thought it would be difficult, that every corner would hold memories of his parents. However, the city had changed so much. It was now a sprawling metropolis. It was hard to believe it was the same place he’d been to with them all those years ago. The buildings were incredibly tall. He tried to imagine what a younger version of himself would have thought. He was sure he would have been completely floored. 

James always marveled at the ways the world changed. It felt bigger now; there were many things to see, and it was ever changing. When he was young, he’d thought the world would pretty much stay the same, but now he knew how much humans were capable of; both good and bad. He’d seen so many things in his life, and wondered how much more things would evolve as the years went on. 

He’d moved to New York earlier that month and planned to stay there for a while. There was an American group of Hallows in the city that James had been in communication with. He was selective of which Hallows members he spent time with. Admittedly, there were a few who gave him the creeps. Of course, he would never tell anyone this. But there were some who he got along with quite well. It took him a while to warm up to the Hallows, but now he was on better terms with them.

After he and Barty broke up, he needed other vampires. He’d craved community and while he didn’t agree with everything the Hallows did, they provided him with a sense of belonging. There were even a few members; who, like him, didn’t kill humans. He continued on with Barty’s technique of paying off medical staff for blood donations. James found no matter where he went, he was always able to find someone who was willing to offer up blood for the right price. 

When he moved to New York, he’d instantly hit it off with a man named Peter. He and James had become good friends in the short time he’d been in the city. That night, they were at an upscale bar. The art throughout the space featured sleek geometric shapes and stylized forms. James loved art déco; it was an emerging style and all the coolest bars and restaurants were filling their walls with it. The changing styles of art and architecture were something James found endlessly fascinating. It was one of the things that made him appreciate his long life. He got to see the world shift and grow in a way most people never got to. 

The two were sitting at a tall high top table, glasses of whiskey in hand. “Better drink up,” Peter chuckled. “Heard they’re thinking of banning alcohol. Bill should be passed any day now.” 

“Should have stayed in London,” James huffed, pouring the drink down his throat. “Better head out to the store and stock up.”

“Naw… we can count on Rodolphus and Alecto,” Peter teased. “They’ve got enough alcohol in their homes to last us through an apocalypse.”

“Those two are a bit intense,” James said, cringing. “Don’t you think?” While he could be more free with his words around Peter, he still had to be careful what he said. If he was being fully honest, he would have said they gave him the creeps. He spent as little time around them as possible. 

“Yes, but they’ve got the good stuff,” Peter joked. 

He and James were typically on the same page when it came to the more extreme members of the Hallows. 

There had been a shift in the members over time. There were those who clung onto the old ways. Following all the rules and traditions. While others were a bit more liberal in their participation. There had even been whispers of a few members defecting. In the early days, this would have been seen as the biggest betrayal. Some members had even been hunted down and killed after leaving. But now the Hallows had too many members, across too many cities. This meant they had a looser grip on their members than they did in the past. 

James went to the bar and got another round before returning to the table. “This’ll be my last one for the night,” Peter absentmindedly explained. “I have to get up early. I’ve got business in the morning.”

“And by business, you mean you’re gonna blow an obscene amount of money at the race tracks?” James laughed, circling his finger around the edge of his drink. Peter loved horse racing. When he wasn’t at a bar with a glass of whiskey in hand, he could be found blowing money at the tracks.  

“Hey now,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “What can I say? I like horses.”

“I-”

“James?” someone called from behind him, causing him to freeze. He slowly turned, coming face to face with someone he hadn’t seen in years. Barty looked the same as he did the day James left him standing in his home covered in blood. He had those same soft green-brown hazel eyes and fluffy curls. There was a lopsided grin pulled across his face. “Long time no see…”

“Yeah, that was a bad time,” James told him, a hint of bitterness still lay under the surface. It was hard not to feel resentment when he was staring at his first love; the only person who’d ever truly broken his heart. Even all those years later, it still hurt. Sometimes he wondered if he would ever fully be over Barty Crouch Jr. Normally this was a feeling he could tuck away; let it linger in the back of his mind, untouched. But having Barty right in front of him was proving to be more difficult than he would have expected. 

“I’ve always felt horrible about that,” Barty admitted, looking at his feet sheepishly. James never thought he’d get anything close to an admission of guilt from him. 

Despite himself, James felt himself soften. He’d often wondered if he’d been too hard on Barty. It was a nagging thought he’d pushed aside year after year. He knew too much time had passed, and there was too much hurt between the two. But hearing him say that, it cracked his chest right open. 

“Uhh…” Peter coughed, pretending to clear his throat. “Still here.”

“Right,” James said, blushing. He’d completely forgotten about Peter’s presence. When Barty was around, it felt like the rest of the world melted away. It was clear nothing had changed on that front. “This is Barty. Barty is my friend Peter. He’s-”

“Leaving…” Peter blurted. “Early morning, remember? Gotta blow oodles of cash by betting it on the prettiest horse.” 

It sounded like this was a funny joke, but James knew the truth. Peter was telling the truth. This was his favourite method when betting. It always seemed unwise to James, but when you have the sort of money they had, you didn’t have to worry about blowing a bit of it. Peter seemed to love the thrill of gambling, and losing was sometimes a part of that.

“Is that a wise strategy?” Barty asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Mate, he’s gonna be losing oodles of cash. Don’t take betting advice from him,” James chuckled, causing Barty to let out a barking laugh. He’d forgotten what it was like to make him laugh, really laugh. It had been such a long time since he’d watched Barty’s face light up like that. It completely transformed his face. He was already a handsome man, but when he smiled that lopsided grin of his, James’s stomach did somersaults. It made him feel like he was young again; laying in the grass of his parents’ estate, limbs intertwined. 

Once Peter drained the remainder of his drink, he quickly left, muttering about horses as he went. Barty shook his head, but the full weight of his gaze stayed fixed on James. “I like your friend,” he told him, leaning into the table. “Are you with him?”

“Pete? Oh, no.” James coughed, choking on his drink. “He is my friend, that’s it.” 

Barty slowly nodded his head, biting his lip. “How long have you been in New York?” 

“About a month,” James told him. “And you?”

“A year,” Barty explained. “Came for work and never left.” His eyes flitted down to James’s drink. “I’ll get us another round.” 

James knew he should have said no. He should have walked away just like he did the night they’d broken up. But saying no to Barty had always been difficult for him. 

When Barty returned, he stood next to James, leant into the table instead of sitting at the stool across from him. “Here,” he mumbled, sliding the drink onto the table.

“Cheers,” James said, bringing the cup to his lips. “What do you do for work?”

“Oh, this and that,” Barty dismissed with the wave of his hand. “I’ve done all sorts of jobs, everything you could think of. The connections you gave me in London proved to be helpful. I’ve done well for myself.”

“Glad to hear that,” James warmly said. He’d always wanted the best for Barty, even after everything that happened. Despite the way things ended between them, James had no ill will toward him. He wasn’t a vindictive person in that way. All the people he’d dated through the years had a soft spot in his heart. 

The two stayed at the bar talking for sometime, they slipped back into each other’s lives easily. It felt like a muscle memory — the two of them laughing and talking. 

James wasn’t sure how it happened, but there was a gradual shift. The occasional brush of their hands or Barty’s hand on his thigh. An averted gaze here or there — blush across the bridge of this nose. The next thing he knew, they were at Barty’s home, tumbling through the front door together. 

He grasped Barty by the shoulders and pushed him into the wall; the door falling closed behind him. Barty’s eyes were wide with shock as James thrust his thigh between his legs. 

James supposed it was a bold move; bolder than Barty would have been used to from him. Sure, at the end of their relationship, he’d been a bit more confident. Still, it was nothing compared to the person he was in those days. He’d spent a lot of time becoming more comfortable with every aspect of himself. He no longer had that same insecurity or self loathing bubbling under the surface at all times.

“Come on, baby,” James said. A low rumble in the back of his throat escaped as he kissed down Barty’s neck. “You were always so desperate for it. How does it feel, Barty? To have me again?” 

James never thought he’d feel the heat from Barty’s body again. It was intoxicating, and he was sure Barty felt similarly. It was clear by the dazed state he was in. 

He shuttered under his touch, hips stuttering against James’s thigh. He whimpered, his head knocking into the back of the door. James slid a hand up his neck, gripping his chin, demanding he look him in the eyes. “Tell me,” he demanded. “How bad do you want it?”

“James please,” Barty begged. The desperation rolled off of him in heady waves and his pupils dilated. James wanted to flip him against the wall and fuck him right there. But he knew it would be better if he took his time. So he pulled his leg back and watched Barty wobble, catching his balance. He grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the house. 

Barty mumbled directions to the bedroom, but was more than happy to let James take the lead. He looked slightly stunned as James pushed him onto the bed and climbed over him. He was more confident in his older age, and the alcohol was spurring him on. It felt good after all those years of being unsure of himself, to have Barty see him comfortable in his own skin. 

He stripped Barty of his clothes, working his hands and tongue over his body. Teasing him until he was moaning and whimpering under his mouth. James rolled onto his back, coaxing him over him. As James thrust up into him, something snapped in him. He shook himself out of the daze he was in. He suddenly radiated power, and James gladly submitted to him. 

Barty pinned James’s hands down, bracketed his face, as he sucked at his pulse point. James watched the muscles in Barty’s stomach contract as he worked himself up and down. He slammed himself down onto James’s cock. James forgot how intoxicating it was to be with him. He always brought him to his knees, leaving him wanting more, and James was sure he’d crawl back to him every time. 

“That’s it James,” Barty groaned, as James thrust his hips up into him. His movements were frantic, hips stuttering. “I can tell you’re close. You always get so needy when you’re close. Come on, love. Come for me, yeah?”

“Uh, fuck,” James whimpered. His eyes fluttered closed as he spilled into him. 

It didn’t take him long before he recovered because he was still chasing a high. He quickly closed his hand around Barty’s cock, and it wasn’t long till he was coming onto James’s stomach. James loved watching Barty come. He wanted to do it again and again; he was sure he’d never tire of it. 

Barty rolled onto his back, laying next to James panting next to him. “Fucking shit, James,” he breathed. “Confidence looks good on you.” Despite himself, James felt his cheeks flush. 

“Shut up,” James joked. He rolled onto his side, nuzzling his nose into Barty’s hair. His familiar scent hit him — which was something he was sure he’d never get to experience again — not in that way, at least.

Barty pulled back, eyes flitting around his face, searching it for something. “Still as earnest as the day I met you, though,” he settled on. James felt his cheeks heat and marvelled at the fact Barty could still make him blush. “Come on, love. Should we have a bath? Clean ourselves up?”

“Just wait,” James whispered, tugging him closer. “Gimmie a few more minutes. I just want to enjoy this feeling.” It felt like he’d slipped back into a distant memory. As if he was on his parents’ estate back in London, spending days on end hidden away with Barty. He often thought of those days fondly — they were days of exploration for him. James had learned many things about himself while safe inside Barty’s arms. Despite everything that happened, he felt happy to be there again. 

“This feeling?” Barty scoffed. “Being drunk, sweaty and covered in come?”

“Romantic as ever,” James chuckled, ticking along Barty’s ribs.

He squirmed in James’s arms, laughing as he attempted to push him away. “You were always the romantic one,” he scoffed. 

“Says the bloke who wrote me love letters for six months,” James teased. 

He smiled fondly, remembering the letters the two had written back and forth. Barty wasn’t always the softest. He rarely cried or showed big emotions but those letters had been so filled with love.

Barty kissed his temple, his cheeks flushing. “Come on,” he breathed. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

🖤

They spent two weeks hiding away in Barty’s place; mostly naked and fucking. James felt comfortable in his house, it was well furnished. Barty owned high end furniture, everything was brand new and the height of luxury. James didn’t work, but Barty did, and it was clear he was making a fair amount of money. 

He got phone calls at all hours of the day and there were always people coming and going. He was always vague when he spoke about work. James knew he’d gone to law school and that he was a practicing lawyer, but it didn’t seem everything Barty was doing was legal .

One day while he was out, there was a knock on the door. When James answered it, he found a stout man standing on the doorstep. “Oh,” he huffed, surprised to see a stranger. “Is Mr. Crouch home?” 

“He’s out,” James told him. He could tell the man was taking stock of him; sizing him up. It was rather offputting and made the back of his neck prickle. “Can I take a message?” he asked, causing him to eye James nervously as he decided what he wanted to say. 

“Uhh.. just tell him Mr. Goyle came by,” he settled on. “I left everything in the garage.”

“Sure,” James told him, before closing the door. The encounter had shaken him, and he was sure there was something Barty was keeping from him. 

After he was positive the man had left, James made his way into the garage. It was a cluttered space filled with an assortment of boxes and random things. Despite the overall messy room, it was clear which boxes the man had left; as they were sitting in the middle of the space. 

James lightly padded over to them and peered inside one. It was filled with bags filled with a fine brownish powder. James didn’t spend much time around drugs, however, he was sure it was opium. 

When Barty came home, he found James sitting at the table in the kitchen. He’d been anxiously waiting for him to get home. Which is probably why he blurted, “are you trafficking opium?” the moment he saw him. There was no finesse to the question. It was rough and accusing, causing Barty to stiffen. 

“Well, that’s one way to see hello I suppose,” Barty huffed, shrugging off his donegal jacket. Then he turned an assessing gaze toward James. “Why do you ask?”

“A man named Mr. Goyle came by today,” James explained. “He left some boxes in the garage.” Barty pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning against the kitchen counter. James viewed his silence as a confession. “I thought you were a lawyer.”

“I am,” Barty told him. “It helps to have a lawyer around when you’re doing illegal activities.”

“Why don’t you just be a normal lawyer?” James asked. “You would make good money doing that.” 

“I make more doing this,” Barty said, shrugging. “You wouldn’t understand. You’ve always had money. If it makes you feel any better, we’re getting out of the opium business. We’re switching over to smuggling alcohol soon. It’s less risky. Most police seem to be willing to turn a blind eye and we can get our shipments from Canada, which will be a lot easier.” 

James nodded, taking in the information. “So… what does this mean? For us?” Barty asked. His brashness made James feel on edge. 

Of course, he’d thought about it. That was practically all he’d thought about on a loop the entire time he waited for him to come home. He was aware he should pack his things and leave. He was getting entangled in something he wanted no part of. But he’d been too quick to end things the first time around. Now that he was faced with the difficult decision of ending their relationship, he wanted to give him a chance. 

“I mean, I wish you didn’t do this,” he admitted, biting his lip. “But I think I’m okay with it.” He wasn’t fully convinced, but he thought he could be and needed to give it some time. More than anything, James wanted to try .

“Really?” Barty asked, raising his eyebrows. Clearly picking up on his hesitance. 

“Yeah…” James said, chewing on his words. “But there’s a stipulation to it. No killing and no lies. You have to be honest with me.”

Barty’s lips turned up at the edges as he crossed the kitchen. He pulled James against his chest, kissing the top of his head. “Sometimes I think you were sent by the high powers to keep me honest,” he chuckled. “Okay… no killing and no lies. I can do that.”  

They stayed like that for a long moment, letting the conversation settle around them. Eventually, their hands began to wander, as they often did when the two were together. They rushed into the bedroom, falling into one another. It was heady and frantic, as if the two hadn’t fully realized they weren’t going to lose one another. James still felt as though any moment with Barty could be the last. Like he could be taken away from him again. 

When they were done, Barty sat straddling James, slowly running his fingers along his chest and stomach. He watched carefully as James reacted to his touch. 

“I never apologized,” he said. He cocked his head to the side as he gazed down at him. 

“For what?” James asked. 

“That fight we got into all those years ago,” Barty explained. “I made a mistake and dug my heels in. I didn’t know how to admit that I was wrong. My biggest fear was disappointing you and when I was faced with that reality I just… the moment got away from me. I’m sorry for that.”

“Thanks,” James breathed. The apology made all the difference. It made him feel like they were truly getting a fresh start. “I made some mistakes too. I should have let you explain. Instead, I yelled at-”

“No,” Barty cut in. “Don’t do that. I was wrong.”

“It was a long time ago,” James said, shrugging. “All is forgiven.”

🖤

“A friesian,” Peter shouted, knocking back his whiskey. “Can you believe it?”

“What’s he on about?” Barty chuckled, walking back up to the table. He’d popped over to the bar in order to get them all another round of drinks. 

They were at their favourite bar. Which was a pretty standard dimly lit space, filled with art déco decor. Mounting tension over the impending alcohol ban had the place abuzz. There was talk of illegally selling alcohol and each establishment was attempting to provide information to their most loyal customers on next steps. James already received three slips of paper that were meant to be passed to obtain entry into these illegal bars. 

“He lost a big bet at the tracks,” James said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Bet on some horse-”

“Some horse!” Peter scoffed. “Not just some horse, a friesian! The most majestic of horses!”

“I think you need a better betting strategy,” Barty teased. He slid a fresh drink onto the table in front of Peter. “Here, this will help.” 

Barty and Peter got along well, and James enjoyed spending time with the two of them together. They always got lost in good conversation. His cheeks would hurt from smiling when they were done hanging out.

Peter drained his drink, wincing slightly. “Should have gone with something stronger,” he groaned. 

“What’s stronger than whiskey?” James said, rolling his eyes. He resisted the urge to stick out his tongue, knowing it would be undignified and would only result in the two men teasing him relentlessly. 

“More whiskey,” Peter sighed. “I need to drown my sorrows.”

“Here, have mine,” James chuckled, handing his drink over to him. 

“You really should drink up,” Peter told him, knocking back the drink. “We’re gonna be drinking bathtub gin for the foreseeable future.”

“Bathtub? As if it’s made in a bathtub?” James wondered out loud, cringing at the thought of alcohol being made in someone’s tub. 

“It mostly just refers to low grade quality,” Barty explained. “Not sure how often it’s actually being made in bathtubs. But don’t worry, I’m gonna be overseeing a group of rum-runners smuggling alcohol from Canada. I’ll make sure you two get the good stuff.”

“I don’t like rum,” Pete huffed, wrinkling his nose.

“That’s just what they’re called,” Barty explained, waving his hand dismissively. “We’ll have access to all sorts of alcohol. You’ll be well taken care of.”

Their conversation slipped by easily until there was a slight stumble. “You’re Priori Incantatem ceremony is coming up soon,” Peter asked, conversationally. James’s eyes flitted to Barty. He hadn’t told him he’d agreed to participate in the Hallows tradition. “Have you thought at all about who you’ll pick?”

“You’re actually doing that?” Barty scoffed. “I thought that was some sort of antiquated tradition. I didn’t realize they still did that.”

“Most of the Hallows still go through with it,” James explained. 

He eyed the drink he’d given Peter, wishing he still had it, making him contemplate bolting from the table to get a new one. He thought he needed to drink a bit more to handle the uncomfortable look on Barty’s face. Barty was growing colder by the second, and James couldn’t handle the wounded look in his eyes. 

“Most wealthy people have mistresses.” Peter shrugged. James wasn’t sure this was a fair comparison to make, but he nodded along. 

“Right,” Barty muttered, looking down at his drink. 

“Dunno who I’ll pick yet,” James explained. “There’s a list of candidates, but I can technically pick any human I want. Problem is, I don’t know many humans these days, and it’s so unnatural to meet someone who is basically campaigning to be with you.”

“The entire thing is unnatural,” Barty said, so low Peter missed the comment. However, James heard it. He watched him closely as Barty averted his eyes, rubbing his temples. 

“I’m sure once you meet some of the candidates, something will click,” Peter attempted to comfort him. He seemed completely unaware of the awkward tension at the table.

If Peter noticed the discomfort he created, he didn’t let on. He continued to chatter away until it was time for everyone to head home. The tension only grew as the night wound down. James found himself in Barty’s living room, sitting on the couch as Barty silently stalked around the kitchen. James could see him through the open door, feeling the frustration roll off of him. 

“Barty,” he gently said, making his way into the kitchen. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No…” Barty told him, but it was clearly a lie. His gaze was hard, jaw set, as if he was ready for an oncoming fight. 

“You’ve been short with me all night,” James calmly stated. He kept his distance, standing on the other side of the kitchen. “Ever since Priori Incantatem came up,” he pushed. He knew Barty was upset, and they needed to talk about it. These sorts of things were best dealt with right away, before they had time to fester. 

“Why would I be okay with it?” Barty huffed, his back turned. It was clear he was extremely upset about the topic. James could see where the upset came from. He wouldn’t like the idea of Barty being paired with another person, but James didn’t think it was that big of a deal. He was sure if they talked it out, Barty would understand. He just needed to understand his perspective a bit more.

“We weren’t even together when I agreed to do it,” James softly explained. It had been almost a year since the Hallows had approached him to ask if he would be choosing someone for the ceremony. He easily agreed, because it was expected. Despite the changes that were being made to the Hallows traditions Priori Incantatem was one that everyone still participated in; it was expected of them. 

“Yet you’re still going through with it,” Barty mumbled. He leant into the counter, his shoulders slumped and head hung. James knew it was a lot to ask, but he was sure he could get Barty to understand. 

He made his way over to him, wrapping his arms around his waist, and hugged him tightly. “It won’t change anything between us,” he reassured him, resting his chin on his shoulder. 

“I don’t want to share you,” Barty told him. He took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re not. Not really,” James explained. He gripped Barty’s arms and turned to him, cupping his chin. “They’re all strangers. I don’t know any of the candidates, not the way I know you. It’s all just a formality. I won’t know them like I know you. We have so much history, nothing can change that.”

“I guess.” Barty shrugged, his throat bobbing. James could see the cogs turning as he worked through his feelings. Clearly, Barty wasn’t fully convinced. 

James drew his face toward him, gingerly pressing their lips together. “I promise it won’t change the way I feel about you,” he told him. James meant every word he said. He couldn’t imagine anyone coming between them. 

“How do you feel about me?” Barty asked. He leant his hand into James’s touch, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I love you,” James breathed, kissing the bridge of his nose. “Always have.”

Barty’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. James marveled at how, almost one hundred years later, he was still completely and utterly enchanted by him. “I love you too,” Barty whispered, as their foreheads dipped together, his eyes slipped closed.

🖤

James had been staying at Barty’s home full time. He had his own place, however, Barty needed to be at his place due to his work. James lived off his inheritances, which he’d invested well. This meant he didn’t need to work and had more flexibility. Barty needed to be home in order to answer calls and to have a point of contact with certain people he worked with. 

He didn’t fully understand all the ins and outs of his work, and he didn’t want to. He asked very few questions and attempted to stay away from his coworkers and clients. Mostly because his presence seemed to make them act a big cagey. James supposed they were worried seeing a new face around and he couldn’t blame them. 

Most nights, Barty came home late, which made James nervous. He was always concerned about what sort of trouble he might be getting into. He knew Barty could handle himself, but he couldn’t help worrying about his safety. Especially considering the type of work he did. 

One night he was home particularly late. James had fallen into a light sleep but was easily woken by a loud banging sound from the floor below. It sounded as though someone had knocked a door open too quickly; hitting one of the walls. 

He knew it was a bad idea to go down into the kitchen to find out what was going on. Barty had been very clear with him that he wasn’t to go snooping around; especially when other people were in the house. He’d promised him he’d answer any questions James had. 

However, curiosity got the better of him. He lightly padded down the hall, hearing voices coming from the kitchen. James walked down the stairs and stopped just in front of the kitchen door. He could hear Barty and a stranger talking in hushed, frantic voices. 

James knew he should have gone to back upstairs to bed and waited for Barty to come upstairs. But deep down, a part of him worried he would never get the truth out of him if he turned around. He remembered that night all those years ago and wondered how many incidents there were before Barty messed up. It was this thought that had him pushing the door open to reveal Barty standing with Mr. Goyle, whose clothing was covered in blood. 

He froze in the doorway, taking in the scene. Mr. Goyle’s white shirt was covered in blood. He’d pulled down his suspenders and was unbuttoning his shirt, about to change it into a fresh one that Barty was holding. James’s eyes scanned around the room, landing on a gun sitting on the kitchen table. The very table he and Barty drank their coffees at each morning. 

“What is going on here?” he stuttered, his jaw hanging open. 

“James, go back to bed,” Barty sternly told him. “Now.”

“Okay…” he quickly said, closing the door. He instantly knew he’d messed up. He should have never gone down there. He’d clearly walked in on something he was never meant to see. James didn’t care if Barty found him snooping around, but it wasn’t a good thing for the people he worked with to see him poking around. 

He stood there for a moment, mostly because he was in shock. He was there long enough to hear Mr. Goyle whisper, “he’s not going to tell anyone, right?”

“No. No, he won’t,” Barty said in a rush. “He’s cool. Don’t worry about him.”

James made his way back up to the bedroom in a daze. He paced back and forth, growing angrier as the minutes ticked by. By the time Barty walked into the bedroom, James was completely worked up. 

“You can’t just go walking into rooms when you hear stuff like that going on,” Barty chided. “Goyle could have-”

“What?” James shouted. “Killed me?”

“Yeah,” Barty scoffed. He threw his arms in the air, as if it should have been obvious. “I work with criminals, James. You need to be more careful.”

“Did he kill someone?” James spat. Barty simply sighed deeply, looking at the ground. “Barty, I had two rules. No killing was one of them.”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Barty said defensively. Still, the distinction didn’t matter to James. He didn’t want to sleep next to someone who was covering up murders. It made him feel dirty, like he himself had blood on his hands. 

“But he did. Didn’t he?” James pushed. He couldn’t believe all these years later he’d walked into yet another room full of blood. “And you’re covering it up. Would y0u have ever told me about it? How many times has something like this happened since I’ve been here?”

When Barty didn’t answer right away, James started rummaging around, finding a bag. He started roughly grabbing his things, shoving them into it. James felt sick to his stomach and needed to get out of his home. He didn’t want to stick around long enough for Barty to convince him otherwise. 

“What are you doing?” Barty asked, sounding shocked. The timber of his voice — the shock in it — reminded James of the night they’d first broken up. 

Why could Barty never see the obvious end of things? He was always clinging on to things well past the point of no return. 

“I’m leaving,” James shouted, feeling exasperated. “I told you no lies. You’re always going to do this. You’re always keeping things from me.” 

“No please, don’t,” Barty begged. He ran over to James, clinging to his arm. “It wasn’t even me. I can’t control what other people do. This is the nature of my work.”

James shook his arm free. “The choices you make matter,” he said for the second time in their relationship. James knew he was being cruel to quote their previous breakup all those years later, but he couldn’t stop himself. He needed Barty to understand how serious he was. There would be no reconciliation. This was it. They’d had their second chance and didn’t pan out. 

His words had the desired effect. He watched as Barty physically recoiled. “Fuck,” Barty muttered, looking broken. James felt horrible. Of course he did. It wasn’t he didn’t care about Barty, but he deserved better. He didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who he didn’t trust. 

“A hundred years later and you’re still doing the same stuff that pulled us apart,” James bluntly told him. He’d thought no one could ever come between them. However, he’d been wrong. It was Barty . He was the one who’d come between them time and time again. Barty had no one else to blame but himself. 

“You said all was forgiven,” Barty said, his voice cracking around the words. 

“I’m leaving,” James told him. He wasn’t sure he had all his things, but he didn’t care. Anything he left he could replace. He needed to get out of there. The longer he stood there, the more disgusted he felt. All the feelings of hurt and betrayal he’d felt for so many years came crashing back. “I’m going and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

He pushed past him, walking into the hallway. “Please,” Barty said in a hurry, chasing after him. “Come on. Give me another chance. I can’t lose you again. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

James couldn’t look him in the eye. As far as he saw it, he’d given Barty another chance and he couldn’t even meet the simple boundaries that had been set. It was clear to him that their moral compasses weren’t aligned and there was nothing that could fix that. James wasn’t willing to settle for someone who couldn’t do something so simple. The trust was gone and there was no point in trying repeatedly to fix something that was clearly broken. 

When he got to the front door, he turned to find Barty hot on his heels. “I’m sorry, Barty,” he sighed. “This is never going to work. Goodbye.”

Chapter Text

ix.

Barty Crouch Jr., New York, 1920

Barty cursed under his breath as he watched Regulus and James rush out of the Emerald. Perched in a tree across the street, he watched them. They were hand in hand running to James’s car, broad smiles pulled across their faces. He pursed his lips, realizing he’d failed at turning Regulus against James. Barty didn’t have enough time with Regulus. He’d only planted the initial seed of doubt. There was so much more he had planned. He could tell Regulus had been starting to trust him. It was clear that was going to take longer than he initially anticipated. Regulus was a hard nut to crack, but slowly he was wearing down his defences. 

Unfortunately, his plans were cut short, though. He thought he’d have more time, but he’d made a crucial error. He hadn’t realized James was at the Emerald and he’d gotten caught. Barty had known it was a bit of a risk. James was there a bit earlier than he normally was. Still, Barty knew he should have checked for his car. It was a rookie mistake, one he was now paying for.

To make matters worse, he’d made it that much more difficult for himself in the future. Regulus knew who he was, so Barty had limited options going forward. 

His throat bobbed as he watched James’s car drive away. He liked Regulus, he really did. Under different circumstances, he could even see them being friends, but when he watched Regulus and James together, it made his skin crawl. He wasn’t happy about what he knew he had to do next, but there was no other option. Regulus and James were like magnets. Despite all the odds, they kept returning to one another. 

It wasn’t hard to figure out where they’d gone. Barty assumed they were going to one of their homes, and he simply followed their scents back to where Regulus lived. The route was a short drive, which Barty did on foot. It didn’t take him long to get there. He was well acquainted with the route. He’d gone there many times during the period he was watching him. It was all rather convenient. Regulus lived fairly close to the Emerald and James’s home. This meant he was able to go between the three locations with ease. 

Regulus’s home was smaller than Barty expected it to be. The first time he went there, he couldn’t believe he didn’t live in a large opulent mansion, like his parents. Regulus was constantly surprising him. Barty made a lot of assumptions about him when he’d first started watching him. 

He thought he was a standard wealthy child; was spoiled and entitled. Especially knowing he was the son of Walburga and Orion Black. The Black family was well known throughout their city by humans and they were infamous among vampires. 

Sure, in some ways Regulus was your average spoiled rich kid. He’d clearly never wanted for a thing in his life, but repeatedly Regulus found new ways to shock him. 

He lived in a Renaissance Revival brownstone that had a large stone staircase leading up to the front doors. There was a black iron railing framing it and large black doors to match. From what Barty could see through the windows, Regulus appeared to own the entire building. Typically, these homes were broken up into apartments. However, Regulus lived on the entire bottom two floors on his own. The top floors appeared to be extra storage for the Emerald. His entire place was very luxurious, which didn’t surprise Barty after seeing the Emerald. It was clear Regulus had a style that extended past the burlesque club. 

The living room had large bay windows, which were ideal for Barty to spy through. The rest of the home was a bit more difficult. The small window offered the only view of the kitchen and downstairs hallways, which were otherwise obstructed, and the upstairs blinds were often closed. 

Barty knew the entire layout of the home; he’d broken in on more than one occasion. However, with James in the building, he couldn’t sneak in without being detected; James would recognize his scent immediately. The only way he’d gotten away with going to the Emerald was because there were many other scents there, so his was muddled. However, at Regulus’s home it would only be himself and Regulus there. 

Instead, he perched on a nearby tree, peeking through a small crack in the curtains. From his vantage point, he managed to see James and Regulus enter the bedroom. They were already naked. Barty’s breath caught in his throat. They really did look good together. He hated how perfect Regulus was. He was everything Barty wasn’t. Regulus was poised and beautiful, while Barty was rougher around the edges and boyish. It made him long to be something he wasn’t, something James would effortlessly love. 

Instead, he had to jump through hoops in order to get back into his life. But he would do whatever he needed to get back to James’s side.

James’s hands were looped under Regulus’s thighs; holding him up. As they reached the bed, James tipped Regulus back onto it. Barty felt jealousy lick his insides as he watched James run a hand down Regulus’s chest and stomach. There was pure lust in his gaze. He knew all too well how incredible it felt to be in Regulus’s position. 

When James fucked you, he gave you his full attention. It always made him feel like he was the most special person in the world. Having his full attention and adoration was intoxicating, and Barty was addicted to it. 

James lent forward, whispering something into Regulus’s ear that caused a goofy grin to pull across his face. Barty wanted to vomit, wondering what he’d said to him. It was probably something cheesy — the sort of thing only Barty deserved to hear. 

Regulus hooked his legs around James’s back, arching into his touch as James slid his cock into him. Barty assumed they must have had sex earlier that day, considering how easily Regulus took him. The two clearly couldn’t keep their hands off one another, a fact he hated. Back when he and James first got together, they’d been that way. Barty remembered the days he’d spent on the Potter estate near the lake. They’d spent many days lazing in the sun, limbs tangled together, whispering soft words to one another. When they’d gotten back together the year before, things had been more intense. Long days filled with frantic hands and messy kisses. Both had been nothing short of magic, and Barty would do anything to claw his way back to James. 

He loathed to think of how infatuated the two were with one another. As he watched them, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that there was no way he could pry Regulus and James apart. At least not while Regulus was alive. As long as he was breathing, there would be no way to keep them from wanting to be together, and Barty was running out of time. James’s birthday was quickly approaching and once he took part in Priori Incantatem there would be no way to separate them, they would be bound together. 

Barty’s skin crawled and guilt churn in his stomach. He hadn’t intended for anyone to get hurt. If his plan had gone according to plan, there would be no need for what was about to come. However, he didn’t see any other option. Regulus now knew who he was, and James would be on high alert. It was unlikely he’d have another option to get close to him. Plus, Barty wasn’t sure he’d be able to win back Regulus’s trust. It was unlikely he’d be able to rope someone else into his plan. Once you started adding in other people, there were too many variables. 

He would have to kill Regulus. It was the only way to keep them apart. Sure, James would be sad once he was gone, but that would only make it easier for Barty to slip back into his life. He would be there to pick up the pieces. 

It was a pretty brilliant plan when Barty thought about it. Frankly, the more he mulled it over, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of it in the first place. He’d wasted all that time with James when he could have wiped Regulus from the face of the Earth. 

Barty watched as Regulus tilted his head back, and James kissed down his neck. Regulus held James close, his arms around James’s shoulders. It was as if they needed to be as close to one another as they could physically get. Barty was determined to replace Regulus, to be the one writhing pliant below James.

He knew what he would do. Barty just needed to wait a bit for the Regulus to separate from James. He just needed a small moment while they were apart. Then he would grab Regulus and take him. Barty figured he could bring him to his alcohol storage unit. It was in a secluded area and the only other people around were other criminals, who would be likely to turn a blind eye if they heard anything suspicious happening. That was the benefit to working around other criminals; they didn’t have an upstanding moral code. 

Once James and Regulus were done having sex, Barty watched as they lay together. They fell asleep in each other’s arms and then all that was left to do was to wait. He felt cramped sitting on the tree branch as an hour stretched by. Barty’s back and neck had begun to hurt. However, he didn’t want to move in case he missed his chance.

Finally, Regulus stirred from his sleep and padded off to the bathroom. Barty’s lips cruelly turned up at the corners. The moment had finally come.

Chapter Text

x.

Regulus Black, New York, 1920

Regulus squirmed, attempting to twist his hands, as a coarse rope burned the skin of his wrists. He still had a bag over his head, sitting in pitch black, unable to see anything. Someone abducted him from his home in the middle of the night, still in his pajamas. Regulus felt shame at being so easily captured; however, his captor had the element of surprise on their side. 

Whoever took him, took him in a car and then moved him to a second location. He was desperately trying to survey the surrounding environment, but it was difficult without being able to see. He could tell he was in some sort of drafty warehouse but beyond that he had no clue. While they were driving Regulus attempted to keep track of the twists and turns the car was making, however, that proved to be impossible. 

The one thing Regulus understood perfectly was who had taken him. He was certain it was his parents, or someone working for them. It was clear they’d been watching him for some time. That was how they’d known he and James had been spending time together. 

Regulus didn’t know how, but they must have found out what he and James were planning. That was the only explanation. They’d found out and were plotting something to break them up. He wondered what they were planning to do in order to keep them apart. He knew they wouldn’t harm him; not yet. They would probably still be hoping that they could force him to take part in Priori Incantatem. Regulus only hoped they hadn’t harmed James in an attempt to keep them from running off together. 

This was typical for Regulus. He couldn’t have anything good. Especially not if it defined him in a way that wasn’t typical of the Black family. Anything uniquely his was stripped away from him. The only small bit of unique identity he’d been able to squeeze out of life was the Emerald, which he supposed had been his parents’ downfall in the end. If he’d never danced for James, they never would have started their relationship. He supposed now that would be taken from him too; James and the club were going to be forced away from him. He should have known the choice he and James made was too good to be true. Regulus had never been that happy in his entire life, so naturally, it was short-lived. 

When James told him he wanted to be with him, without taking part in the ceremony, he could hardly believe what he was hearing. He knew it was a big deal to turn his back on his family, but he loved James. More than that, though, he loved he would get to live his life for himself. His family had put pressure on him to be someone he wasn’t. At the end of the day, he didn’t just choose James, he also chose himself. But it seemed his parents wouldn’t allow that to happen.

Regulus allowed himself a moment to feel the heartbreak and terror of the moment. Then he steeled himself, determined to fight for his life. He wanted the beautiful future that he and James had promised each other. Regulus wanted to live his life to the fullest. To spend his days dancing, living with James and to hopefully find Sirius. That was the life he wanted to live, and to him, it was worth fighting for. He wouldn’t go down easily, he was ready to fight. 

He stilled as he heard light footsteps entering the room. Regulus’s hearing strained, trying to find out as much information as he could. Whoever was there was light on their feet. Regulus may have missed it if he hadn’t been on high alert. His heart hammered in his chest as the person walked toward him. A shiver rolled down him spine as the person stood before him. Regulus braced himself, unsure what was next to come. 

To his surprise, the person pulled the bag off his head, revealing the face of Barty Crouch Jr. 

It took Regulus a few moments to parse out that his parents weren’t involved in his kidnapping. Slowly, all the puzzle pieces slipped together. It seemed obvious now that Barty was the one who took him. He was clearly upset about the encounter with James earlier that day. The entire thing was pretty obvious once he thought it through. 

Regulus felt silly for assuming it was his parents, but he had no reason to think Walburga and Orion wouldn’t do something like this. When he’d told James his parents might try to kill him, he wasn’t joking. 

Once as a child he watched his parents beat Sirius bloody, to the point Regulus thought he might die. They’d always been more gentle with Regulus, but he wasn’t fully exempt from this, especially when it came to Priori Incantatem. 

It appeared James had been right about Barty after all, though. The realization stung. There had been a small part of Regulus that was still holding out hope that Barty hadn’t fully manipulated him. It was rare that people saw him in such a vulnerable state. The idea Barty used that for his own gain made his skin crawl. 

The reality of his situation weighed on him. His captor, being Barty, raised some concerns. When Regulus thought it was his parents, he assumed they would not harm him, but Regulus wasn’t certain he could say the same about Barty. In fact, he was certain he had much worse things planned.

Regulus’s eyes darted around the space, confused by what he was seeing. It was clear they were in an alcohol storage facility; a drafty old building that was full of large wooden crates and supplies. It seemed it would be a rare occasion for the space to be empty. However, that night they appeared to be the only two people there. 

“Surprised it was me?” Barty asked, raising his eyebrows. He looked apprehensive — curious even — anything but dangerous. Perhaps he was still fooling Regulus. It was hard for him to tell. He’d always had a difficult time reading Barty, and that was only heightened once he became aware of the deceit. 

Regulus pursed his lips, not wanting to give away any information to him. Especially not when it was something so personal. His days of willingly providing Barty with private information were long gone. If he wanted to know anything about him, he’d have to rip it from his body. 

He mindfully began fiddling with the rope that bound his hands together, careful not to reveal his movements to him. Regulus wanted to make sure Barty didn’t figure out what he was doing. 

“Oh, come on,” Barty chuckled. “Who did you think it was?” He ran a finger down Regulus’s cheek, over the almost healed cut his mother had given him. Regulus shrank back, turning his head away from his touch. 

Barty laughed cruelly, stepping back to drag a chair across the floor. He sat across from Regulus, resting his hands on his chin, bracing onto his knees. “It really is a shame,” Barty drawled. “I rather liked you.”

“Strange way of showing it,” Regulus spat, as he managed to jam his index finger into a gap. He felt it loosen slightly as he pushed his finger further into the rope. Regulus kept his eyes locked on Barty, and he knew he needed to keep him talking in order to buy himself some time. “Did you actually think James wouldn’t find out that you’d been worming your way into my life?” He wasn’t sure if he would engage in the conversation at first. But it quickly became clear that he was stalling as well. 

“Naw…” Barty shrugged. “The only reason I got caught was because I was being sloppy. If I’d checked for his car, we wouldn’t be here right now.” Regulus found it amusing how confident he  was when it was his own hubris that had gotten him in trouble to begin with. He doubted Barty would see it that way, though. 

“And where exactly is here?” Regulus asked. He felt the rope loosen around his wrists as he got a loop undone. He felt his stomach leap with excitement, but did his best to keep a neutral mask on his face. “I mean symbolically, not physically. Here as in the bigger picture of things. What exactly is your plan, Barty?” 

“Well, I’m going to kill you,” Barty said, his lips turning down at the edges. It was as if he didn’t want to go through with his plan, but felt he had no other options. 

“Can’t say I’m a fan of that plan,” Regulus huffed. “I don’t think you are either.” 

He felt the final loop of the rope unknot and had to catch it before it fell to the ground. He wanted the element of surprise, and if Barty saw the rope fall, it wouldn’t do him any good. 

When he caught the rope, his stomach lept. This was it. This was probably the only opportunity he would have to get the upper hand and he wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers. Regulus was ready to make the most of this slight advantage he had.

“Why do you say that?” Barty wondered out loud, his brows creasing. 

“You would have done it already,” Regulus shrugged. “Why not just kill me with that bag on my head? Why bother to stop and talk to me? It seems you’re stalling, dear.”

Barty blinked, a flicker of indecision crossing his face. It was as good of an opportunity as Regulus was going to get. He used the moment to grasp the metal backing of the chair. As he swiftly got up and flung it across the space, he was able to hit Barty square in the chest. Barty’s eyes widened with shock as he toppled back, the chair clattering onto the ground.

The second it made impact, Regulus was off. He ran as fast as he could, turning and twisting through a hall and behind a series of boxes. He’d never run that fast in his life, and it caused him to suck in large gulps of air. 

He crouched down, feeling his heart thundering in his chest. That was the extent of his plan. He didn’t have a next step. Regulus’s eyes frantically darted around, attempting to find a way out. He’d gotten lucky when he caught Barty by surprise — he just need a bit more luck.

“Very clever,” Barty shouted. He sounded breathless, as if he’s running. “Come on out Regulus. I can smell the fear on you. It’s only a matter of time before I find you.” 

Regulus knew he’s right. Barty had the upper hand. He was able to track him through his scent. Which meant there’s only a matter of time before he found him. And once he did… Well, there was no way Regulus would win in a hand to hand fight with a vampire. They were stronger, faster, and they only had one real weakness… 

However, luck seemed to be on his side that night, in more ways than one. 

Regulus’s eyes dipped down to the box in front of him, where a metal lighter and a pack of cigarettes sat. One of the workers must have left it there. Regulus grinned down at it before scooping it up. He scanned the area, a plan becoming clear in his mind. 

There was a wooden ladder attached to the wall next to him. It was the perfect plan, well, as good of a plan as he was going to get. 

Regulus quickly scaled the ladder, chuckling to himself at the chaos he was about to cause. He’d spent most of his life being the perfect son, attempting to mold himself into exactly what the world expected of him. If Regulus didn’t die that night, a part of him would and it would go out in a blaze. 

At that moment, he couldn’t help but think of his brother. Sirius would be proud of him. He’d always been the rebellious one; creating chaos was his specialty. This was something Sirius would do for sure and if he lived to tell the tale, he would track his brother down so he could see his face when he heard it.

Once he was up on the upper landing, he found boxes of alcohol stored there in the loft. He frantically started halling them to the edge of the platform. There was a small wooden railing that he momentarily leant over, looking down at the floor below them. He bit his lip, feeling a flurry of nerves in his stomach. 

Despite the bleakness of the situation, he couldn’t help smiling to himself. He felt clever for having outsmarted Barty. He had a solid plan in his mind and he’d even noticed a small window behind him that led out onto a fire escape. 

It was all perfect, really. 

He would do what needed to be done and then escape into the night. He just needed to make a big enough distraction that he had enough time to get back to James. 

Methodically, Regulus began unpacking bottles of gin, rum and whiskey from boxes. He lined them up along the railing, leaving them there for later. He had big plans for them, after all. Once that was done, he grabbed two more bottles, uncorking them before pouring them over the edge. 

There was so much alcohol being drained onto the floor that Regulus was sure the city of New York would feel the true weight of prohibition for days to come. The smell of hard liquor filled the drafty building the more He poured down onto the ground. The bitter smell burned his lungs as he breathed in sharply. 

Barty skidded around a corner in the distance. Lucky for Regulus, he was too far to stop him. Barty had clearly underestimated him — his parents had — the entire world had. Regulus himself hadn’t even known his own strength, but he never would again because he was a force to be reckoned with. 

He roughly tore a large shipping label off the wooden barrel and flicked the lighter open. “Don’t,” Barty called out from across the space. 

Regulus didn’t hesitate. He lit the paper on fire and watched as it slowly dropped into the pool of alcohol below him. Regulus watched it drop in slow motion. The moment it hit, the glowing flames lapped up. Regulus could feel the warmth of the flames below as they grew. The growing heat rippled across his skin. It was uncomfortable despite the flames being the saving grace. The entire building was wooden, which worked as a kindling for the fire. He only hoped it would be enough.

Regulus wasted no time hoisting up a box of glass alcohol bottles and dumping it over the edge. Countless bottles crashed onto the floor, cracking and breaking against the ground, adding to the flames below. 

“You’re fucking mental,” Barty shouted, as he got closer. 

Regulus couldn’t help but think that was rich coming from him. Barty had been watching him for some time. He’d manipulated Regulus into thinking they were friends and attempted to turn him against James. Then kidnapped him in the middle of the night intending to kill him. Regulus had merely matched his energy. At worst all of this was self defense. 

Regulus rolled his eyes and picked up the closest alcohol bottle stacked on the railing. “You were gonna fucking kill me,” he shouted, chucking the bottle in Barty’s direction. Upon impact, it shattered, flames exploding up as the alcohol splashed on the ground. Barty loudly cursed, continuing to run, dodging the flames.

Regulus continued to throw bottle after bottle, helping spread the flames around the warehouse. They were crawling up the walls and part of the loft had begun burning as well. He felt fear prickle at the back of his neck. He was all too aware of the danger he’d created around him. 

Regulus would have to leave soon, before too much of the building caught on fire. Thick smoke clawed at his throat, warning him he needed to get out into the fresh air of the night. 

Somehow, despite Regulus’s best attempts, Barty got to the ladder, and was climbing up it. He cursed under his breath, then grasped the bottle nearest to him. Regulus wound up and tossed a bottle directly at him. He wished he didn’t feel bad, but he still felt horrible, and didn’t want to harm him. 

Barty covered his hand over his face; the glass shattering against his skin, alcohol drenching his clothing. “Mate, I should have killed you when I had the chance,” he grunted, climbing the rest of the way up the ladder. “You’ve been the biggest pain in my arse. You know that?” 

“Oh, look who’s talking,” Regulus yelled, lobbing another bottle at him. “If you’re annoyed now, you better see what I’ve got in store for you. I plan to be the biggest problem of your entire life.” 

He hardly had anything else left in the tank, but that was a secret he hoped Barty never learned. He was experienced at running on empty. He’d been doing it most of his adult life. Why should this be any different?

Barty walked slowly toward him, causing Regulus to take a step back. He felt backed into a corner but didn’t have time to contemplate the dire situation he was in because he slipped. His breath hitched in throat as he stumbled back, foot sliding in a puddle of alcohol. He fell back onto the railing and heard a large crack. His eyes widened as he felt the wood behind him splitting open. He scrunched his eyes closed and braced himself for the fall, but it never came. 

To his surprise, Barty lunged forward, grasping a handful of his pajamas. He yanked on the fabric, hauling him forward to stop him from toppling off the balcony. Once Regulus regained his balance, the two blinked at one another, surprised by the turn of events. 

Barty furrowed his brows, as if confused by his own actions. 

“You saved me?” Regulus breathed.

“Yes,” Barty said, nodding. “Let’s get out of here before I change my mind-”

Their truce was fleeting, though. A loud bang rang out through the warehouse as the ground pulled out from under them. They let out an involuntary scream as the floor beneath them caved in. His stomach jolted from the feeling of freefall. Hitting the ground was more painful than he’d could have imagined.

But to his surprise, he was still alive. 

Regulus rolled across the floor onto his side, wincing at the pain that wracked his body. He drew in a ragged breath, breathing in nasty black smoke. He attempted to catch his breath between violent coughs. He wanted to make sure everything was still intact. His face pressed into the dirty floor of the warehouse, but he managed to wiggle his fingers and toes. Relief flooded through him. That meant if he survived, he’d still be able to dance.  

Next, he tried to push himself up, but felt a sharp stabbing pain shoot through his body — he was sure he’d broken a few ribs. The ache in his leg was dull in comparison, but he doubted he’d be able to walk if he tried. He’d either broken something or badly torn or muscle. 

He squinted up, seeing the destruction he’d caused around him. The entire warehouse was a blaze. Flames crawled up the walls and all through the room. The heat from it was blinding, even though he wasn’t directly next to any flames. 

In the spot he’d fallen, the flames were pretty sparse. Still, he wasn’t sure how he was going to escape if he couldn’t stand up. Regulus mustered up all the strength he could and crawled an inch forward. It was painful, but he was sure he could get to his feet and drag himself out. 

Hot tears rolled out of the corner of his eyes as he scanned the room, attempting to spot Barty, unsure if they were still on the same team. He didn’t see him right away. Not until he heard James’s voice. At first, he thought he was hallucinating — that it was some sort of fantasy — or wishful thinking. 

“Reg,” James shouted, frantically looking around the room. “Regulus!” He was still in his pajamas with a jacket thrown over them. His glasses were askew and his hair tousled. 

He made to open his mouth but was cut off by the horrible gurgling sound of Barty’s voice. “James?” he called out. He sounded rough, and Regulus was sure he was dying. 

Vampires were incredibly strong and difficult to kill. To some, it would be considered impressive that the fire took Barty down. They were rumoured to only have one weakness; fire. But Regulus wasn’t sure how much it took to kill one, until then. 

Barty wasn’t even dead yet and still Regulus felt as though his blood was on his hands. He was sure Barty was going to die, and he was the one who would be branded murderer . It didn’t matter how they got there, Regulus was the one who killed him. Something he’d never thought he would say about himself. 

He recalled how the Hallows unleashed James upon unsuspecting victims when he was newly turned. It made bile build in the back of his throat. He didn’t understand how anyone could do that and revel in it. Regulus wondered how long it took James to get over their deaths and, in turn, how long it would take for him to get over his role in Barty’s. If he ever would.

James skidded to a stop, dropping to his knees beside Barty’s limp body. He had his back turned to Regulus; he didn’t know he was there. 

Regulus considered calling out to James, but he remained frozen to the spot. Unable to do anything but watch helplessly as Barty struggled for breath. 

“I’m here,” James breathed. “Where’s Regulus?”

“I don’t know. We fell,” Barty said, his voice breathy. “James, I’m sorry. I love you. In the end, I did the right thing. I’m sorry it took me so long to get there. I’m sorry for everything.” 

Regulus felt uncomfortable hearing the conversation. It was meant to be private, and he was hearing every word.

“It’s okay,” James rushed. “I’ve got you. I forgive you. You’re gonna be okay.” He sounded as though his heart was breaking, and the sound made Regulus’s own heart ache. He always had a soft spot for Barty, even with how everything played out. In another universe, they could have actually been friends. 

“No,” Barty struggled out. “I’m not. Go find Regulus.”

“No,” James frantically called, cradling him in his arms. “The fire didn’t get you that much. You’ll be okay. You have to be. I can save you and Regulus.”

“I’m sorry,” Barty repeated, his voice wavering. 

James clung to him, rocking back and forth, whispering, “I know.” 

The two were there in the middle of the burning building. James crouched with Barty laying in his arms. The end of a century long relationship, burning out. 

James’s cries filled the silence after Barty’s ragged breathing ceased. The sound of him sobbing was one of the most heartbreaking things he’d ever heard. Regulus felt horrible, knowing he was the one who’d caused Barty’s death. 

If he hadn’t started the fire, he’d still be alive… or maybe he’d be dead in Barty’s place. None of it really mattered at that moment, though. There was no way to go back and fix it. 

Regulus lay listening to the slow crackling sound of the burning wood. Soft thumps distantly alerted him to things falling and breaking around them. The fire cracked and popped, the thick black smoke worsening around them. He and James needed to leave or they would be next. 

“James,” he called toward him, his voice hoarse. “James, we have to go.”

James’s head popped up, his eyes widening as his eyes landed on him. He rushed over to him, crouching beside him. 

“Shit Reg,” he said, kneeling beside him. “If I knew you were there, I would have… fuck, you should have told me you were here.” He slid his hands under him and scooped him up. Regulus winced as he sagged against his chest. Even though they weren’t out of the building yet, he already felt safer having James close by. He knew James wouldn’t let any harm come to him. He would move mountains for him, and Regulus’s shoulders relaxed, finally feeling safe. 

“You’re hurt?” James asked, his tone full of concern. Regulus wordlessly nodded, whimpering slightly. Every step James took caused the pain in his side to increase. “Okay, we’ll get you to the car and then get you help,” he soothed. 

It didn’t take James long to get them out of the building. The far side of the warehouse was still relatively untouched by the fire. It wouldn’t be long till it was taken over too, but that was no longer their concern. James could easily carry him with ease, and when they finally left the building, cool air licked the skin of Regulus’s face. He took in a deep breath of clean air. His lungs felt heavy, but he was relieved to breathe again.

Once the two were out on the road, James lay him down in the back of his car. The adrenalin of the moment was wearing off, and Regulus felt a tidal wave of emotions hit him. Stunned by the evening’s events—from his emotional conversation with James to everything that happened with Barty—Regulus was overwhelmed. It was hard to comprehend, and he felt as though his head was too full. He didn’t have enough space in his head for it all. He felt as though it might explode. 

“James, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said, clawing at his sleeve, “I didn’t know what to do. Is he… is he gone? Oh god, he’s dead, isn’t he? I killed him? I’m sorry.” There was blinding pain all through his side and down his leg as he tried to sit up, frantically reaching out for James. He needed something stable to hold on to. He wanted him to be as close to him as possible. 

“Reg, stop, it’s okay,” James said. He crawled across the floor of the car, cupping his face in his hands. “You’re safe. I’m here. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Regulus sobbed. His face was covered in tears, as the shock of the moment wore off, all that was left was panic. “I know what he meant to you. He was gonna kill me and I started the fire. He saved me, though. I was gonna fall, and he saved me. I’m sorry it’s my fault. I started the fire.” 

The words tumbled from his mouth in a chaotic mess. He wasn’t able to string together his thoughts enough to articulate how he was feeling. Regulus wasn’t even sure exactly how he felt. Despite everything Barty had done, Regulus wished he could go back and fix it. If he’d known how things would play out, he would have done things differently. 

“Shh… It’s not your fault,” James whispered, gently wiping tears from his cheeks. “He was going to kill you. None of it would have happened if it weren’t for him.” Regulus’s head swam, and his vision was blurring at the edges.

“But you and him-”

“Barty was very important to me,” James breathed. “I wanted him out of my life, but not like this. I will grieve for him. But… you would have been the loss of my life. I never would have gotten over your death.” 

Regulus’s throat bobbed, taking in the information. His thoughts seemed to have slowed down. They were thick as molasses. He opened his mouth, but everything went black.

🖤

Regulus’s eyes fluttered open. He felt like a car had hit him. He grunted as he tried to prop himself up. His body felt bruised from head to toe, and he had a pounding headache. The last thing he remembered was being in James’s car, but as he blinked his eyes open, he found he was in the back room of the Emerald. 

“Oh dear, stay down,” a woman’s voice called from across the room. She was a stout woman with grey curls. Regulus watched as she calmly rolled her sleeves up and dried her hands. He couldn’t quite piece together what was going on, and was coming up short. She must have picked up on his confusion because she smiled warmly at him and told him, “I’m Poppy. I’m a nurse practitioner. You need to rest.” She rested a hand on his shoulder and softly pushed him back.

There was a chuckle from across the end of the couch. “Hey boss,” Evan said, flashing him a toothy grin. Regulus’s mind was reeling. He couldn’t figure out how he’d gotten to the club, let alone why Evan was there.

“What happened?” Regulus groaned. “How did I get here?”

“Naturally, James couldn’t take you to a hospital,” Evan explained. “Didn’t want you connected to that fire. So, he called Pandora and got lucky cause I was there. Poppy works with me. She does discrete house calls, if you catch my drift.” 

It helped to have friendly criminals around. Of course, Evan knew the most kindly criminal nurses you could ever find. Hell, even if Poppy worked in a normal hospital, she would be the most caring one in the entire building. 

“Am I dead?” Regulus huffed. His voice was hoarse. He’d breathed in a lot of smoke, causing his throat to burn. “I feel like I must be dead.” 

“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Evan chuckled. Regulus had to disagree. His entire body felt broken. He’d never been in so much pain in his entire life. Even breathing hurt. 

“You’re not dead,” the woman huffed. “But you need to stay still. You’ve broken a few ribs, likely fractured your left leg. And I’d be surprised if you don’t have a concussion. So you need to stop… just lay down-”

Regulus struggled to sit up. He wanted to get a better look at his torso and legs, and he couldn’t do that from his current position. His body hurt so badly that he wanted to be able to look at himself. He didn’t fully trust that everything was in order and wanted to see it with his own eyes. 

“Never was good at resting that one,” Evan teased. “Always working himself to death.” Poppy shot him a stern glare, but left the room to give them privacy.

He propped a pillow up behind his back. He calmed down a bit, having his full body in view. Once he knew everything was still intact, he lay his head back. 

He knew he needed to rest, but he wasn’t sure how they were going to run the Emerald without an alcohol supply. Not only was Barty gone, but Regulus had completely ruined most of his supply at the same time. And whatever was left would surely be seized by the police when they did their investigation into the fire. 

“Speaking of work,” Regulus said. “Probably gonna need you to start supplying for the club again. I know you moved to other places but we could really use-”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Evan grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “You aren’t talking about work right now.” 

Regulus knew he had a point. He’d almost died and was in an incredible amount of pain. Surely, he could give himself at least till the next morning to figure out what his next steps were. 

“Fine,” Regulus huffed, scrunching his eyes closed. “Where is James?”

“He and Pandora are scrubbing all signs of Barty from this place,” Evan told him. “Can’t have the police skulking around here. Gotta make sure everything is dealt with, you know?” 

Regulus sighed with relief. He hadn’t even gotten to the point of worry about that sort of thing. He had to admit he was glad to have it already sorted out. Sure, he would have to go over everything to ensure they had all their bases covered, but at least the initial work had been done. 

Regulus wanted to get up, to go and help them. He desperately wanted a distraction from his own thoughts. He couldn’t sit there and mull over everything that had happened. He swung his legs over the edge of the couch, visibly cringing from the pain. “I’ll-”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Evan dismissed, with the wave of a hand. “I will get him.” He popped up from the couch, too quickly for Regulus to protest.

The moment Evan was out of the room, Poppy swept back in. She scowled at him when she realized he hadn’t remained laying down. “Oh, for goodness’ sake,” she tutted. “You are quite the stubborn thing aren’t you? Lay back down.”

“Please,” Regulus begged. “I’ll stay still, but I just want to sit up.” He didn’t think he could handle laying down staring at the ceiling. He needed to have a better vantage point to see what was happening in the room. The traumatic evening heightened his anxiety. Being able to see all the points of entry for the room helped settle some of his worries. 

“Fine,” Poppy conceded. “But don’t move around.” Once he’d lent back into the pillow, she gingerly applied bandages over some cuts and burns along his arms. 

For the first time, Regulus realized someone had changed his pajamas. He felt his face flush, wondering how he’d gotten changed. He hoped James had done it on his own, but doubted that was the case. It would have been difficult for him to change him alone, while Regulus was unconscious. 

Poppy only stopped when Pandora swept into the room. She quietly left the room, leaving them to talk privately. Regulus greatly appreciated her discretion. 

“Oh my god,” Pandora cried, hugging him tightly. “You’re awake. Thank god. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. You looked like death when we got here.” Regulus felt guilty for making his friends worry, especially to that extent. He couldn’t imagine how horrible he must have looked and felt bad for putting them through that. If he saw one of them in that state, it would have destroyed him. 

“Ouch let go,” Regulus grumbled. “Poppy is going to be on my case if she sees you.”

“No,” she said, but loosened her hold on him. “You stupid idiot. What were you thinking? Burning down a building?” 

“Um… that I didn’t want to die,” Regulus dryly joked. 

It probably wasn’t his smartest idea, but at the time, he didn’t have many other options. He tried to cling onto that knowledge — the feeling of having been backed into a corner. However, feelings of doubt were creeping in. His actions directly led to Barty’s death, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He knew it was an act of self defense. Still, he felt bad that Barty was gone, and he wasn’t sure what it said about him since he’d led to someone’s death.

“Funny way of going about it, if you ask me,” Pandora teased, ruffling his hair. They sat lent into one another for a long moment. Just enjoying each other’s presence. He was grateful that he got to live another day to spend this sort of time with her. Regulus intended to slow down and spend more time with the people he cared about. 

Finally she broke the silence, telling him, “you’re not working for the next month.” 

Initially Regulus felt defensive. He didn’t want to take time off. He wanted to have something to distract him from everything playing out in his mind and work would have been the perfect thing to keep his mind off things.

“But I’m-”

“Nope, don’t tell me you’re fine,” she said, poking him in the side if only to punctuate her point. He cringed, his side spasming, only further hammering home the message. He needed the time off, there was no denying it.

“Okay, I’m not fine.” He winced, knowing she was right. Regulus was lucky to still be alive, and he was getting a fresh start with James. That was as good a time as ever to take proper care of himself. Especially now that he had a reason to. He wanted to be able to enjoy every moment of the life he was carving out for himself. “I’ll take the time off.”

“I have everything under control,” Pandora said, in a rush. Then she blinked at him, looking shocked. “Did you just say you’ll take the time off?” Regulus grinned at her, but wordlessly nodded. “Oh, okay… good then. That will give you time to sort things out with James. Oh, by the way, he’s finishing something. Will be here in a minute. You know, he told us what you two decided.”

“Oh, yeah?” Regulus couldn’t stop his lips from quirking up at the edges. 

“You’re still going through with it?” Pandora asked, carefully surveying his face. A full smile broke across Regulus’s lips, unable to hide his happiness, as he nodded his head. Even through the dense fog in his mind, he still found his chest warming at the thought of being with James. There were still many things they needed to sort out. Regulus admittedly had no clue how he was going to deal with his parents. But he knew he loved James and wanted to be with him and nothing would get in the way of that. 

“Good. God, you scared him. I mean, you scared all of us, really.” Pandora chatter on, trying her best to keep up a light conversation between the two. She did her best to avoid any difficult topics, or mention anything to do with work. Regulus was certain she knew he couldn’t be alone with his thoughts and was grateful for her presence. 

After a while, there was the soft clearing of a throat from the door. “Hey,” James said, lent into the wall by the entrance. He looked tired. Dark smudges were rimmed his eyes. However, he smiled softly at them, gently murmuring, “sorry to interrupt.”

“No, not at all,” Pandora told him. She got to her feet, patting James on the shoulder. “I’ll be around if you need anything.”

Once she left, James gingerly sat on the couch next to him, taking Regulus’s hand into his palm. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up,” he explained. “I know how important this place is to you, and I wanted to make sure everything is in order. How do you feel?”

“Like death,” Regulus chuckled.

“Side effect of almost dying, I suppose,” James teased, kissing his hand. His eyes looked sad, they lacked the usual spark he normally had. Regulus had never seen him like that before. He was normally playful and confident. Which was in stark contrast to the person sitting next to him.  

Regulus’s stomach squirmed with guilt, wondering how much he had a part in his current demeanor. “James… about Barty,” he softly said. “I’m sorry.”

“Shush, don’t start this again,” James told him. He carefully lent against the pillow, kicking his legs up onto the couch, letting Regulus carefully settle against his chest. “I meant every word I said earlier.”

“Will you miss him?” Regulus asked pensively. 

“Yes,” James sadly admitted. “But I’ve been missing him for a long time. That person I fell in love with, he’d been gone for years.” He sighed heavily, brushing a hair from his forehead. “Enough of that. You rest. We have a life to plan.”

James kissed his forehead. There were so many things he wanted to say, but instead he let his eyes droop closed because there would be time for that later. There would finally be countless days for them to grow old together.

Chapter Text

xi.

epilogue

James Potter, Paris, 1922

The stage lights shimmered across jeweled fabric as Regulus artfully twisted and turned. James watched him perform countless times, and he never failed to take his breath away. Regulus put in a huge effort that night. It was the opening of his new burlesque club; Le Salon Rubis . 

He and Regulus moved from New York to Paris the year before. It took them some time to get settled before Regulus opened the Ruby’s doors. They left New York in the dead of night, shortly after the incident with Barty. Regulus wasn’t even fully healed when they bought their new home. 

The move had put a considerable amount of stress on him and there were still days he was worried Orion and Walburga would come for him. James was sure as long as they were alive, they would always plague Regulus to a certain extent. 

As for Barty, Regulus and James, both dealt with that loss in different ways. There were still times it haunted them. James had come to peace with it more than Regulus had, but even he was learning to carry the weight of it. 

It took a lot of convincing to get Regulus to open the Ruby. He thought it would bring too much attention toward him. As James watched him from the VIP booth, he understood why Regulus thought this. He was absolutely stunning, the most incredible thing to ever grace any stage in the entire world. He was covered from head to toe in crystals, elegantly draped inside a large champagne glass. Regulus stood on the edge of the glass and blindly fell back, the dancers catching him as he fell, gaining a gasp from the crowd. 

Once they put him down, dancers immediately covered with feathered fans, that dramatically pulse, to eventually reveal Regulus holding two large fans to hide his body. He did a sleight of hand, flipping one of the fans above his head. He teasingly revealed his bare chest, leaving the audience wondering how he managed such a quick change. 

James’s jaw hung open as he watched him dance. Every day, he was grateful he’d whisked Regulus away to France, but in that moment he was over the moon. If he got to see him on stage like this, he’d do everything in his power to never bring him back to the grey streets of New York, where his parents loomed around every corner. 

In the year they’d been in Paris, Regulus had flourished. Most nights he slept through the night, in his own home, with James by his side. He looked well rested and often said no to taking on more responsibilities. He’d even filled out now that he was eating properly. It bothered Regulus at first, but James never minded, he preferred him healthy and would remind him of this every chance he got.  

“Put your tongue back in your mouth,” the auburn-haired girl next to him said, swiftly kicking him in the shin under the booth. “It’s basically on the floor.” He shifted uncomfortably, using his jacket to cover where he was straining against his jeans. 

“Lils, I  saw you eyeing up Pandora in the last number,” James bit back. 

Lily Evans was one of his new friends. She lived in a community of Parisian vampires, who all abstained from killing. While Regulus and James opted to not move in with them, they spent much of their time there. It gave James a much needed sense of community after he ended things with the Hallows. Plus, it gave him a sense of security in case Riddle or the others came after him. 

“Mind putting in a word for me?” Lily asked. She pulled out a compact mirror, fixing her lipstick. 

“I think you’ll do just fine all on your own,” James chuckled. 

She had her hair pinned back into neat finger waves. Unlike many other girls around, she opted to not cut it into a blunt bob, instead her waves neatly framed her face, running down her back. Lily was beautiful. Her cheeks were rouged and her lips were full and donned a deep plum colour. James had no doubts about her ability to turn Pandora’s head.

“Would you two knock it off?” Peter grumbled from the other side of the booth. He sat slumped over, pouting, with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m missing one of the biggest races of the year. I could have gotten to see a Selle Français, I’ve never seen one before. Instead, I’m sitting here, watching you two get wet over-”

“Hey, watch it,” James bristled. “You said you want to come support Reg.”

“I do,” Peter sighed. “I just didn’t think that would involve me pretending to not notice your raging boner for the entire evening.”

Lily slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a loud laugh. “Piss off,” James hissed, shooting them both a glare. “Just watch the show, yeah?”

The rest of the performance was incredible, and after James made his way backstage. He found Regulus with Pandora. The two were smiling and giggling, hands clasped between one another. 

“Reg, you were incredible,” Pandora gushed. “I forgot how good it is to dance with you.”

“Move to Paris,” Regulus begged. “Please. Can you imagine us doing this every night? It would be incredible.”

“What about the Emerald-”

“We’d figure it out,” Regulus chuckled, his eyes lit with mirth.

“Oh Reg, yes. A thousand times, yes,” she told him, a broad smile pulled across her face. 

“You two are gonna get into so much trouble in Paris together,” James teased, drawing both of their attention. “Incredible show tonight. Even better than when I saw you two in rehearsals.”

Pandora murmered her thanks and then drifted off to her to talk with the other dancers, leaving Regulus and James alone. They made their way through the busy backstage area, through a sea of glitter and feathers. Regulus no longer had a section of the back rooms to himself, because he didn’t live at the club. Instead, he had a dressing room in one of the more secluded areas, which suited James well.

The moment the door was closed, he crowded him against the edge of the vanity. He peppered kisses up the column of his neck. “Stop that,” Regulus gasped, limp in his arms. “I want to change.”

“No,” James insisted, pulling a moan from Regulus as his teeth nipped at his earlobe. “I want you in this.” The moment he’d seen Regulus on stage, James’s mind created lewd daydreams of all the things he’d do to him in that outfit. 

“Why?” Regulus whimpered.

“Because this is the fantasy,” James whispered against the skin of his neck. “Everyone out there wants you, but they can’t have you, only I get this .” His body was familiar and warm in James’s arms. He wanted to be the only person for the rest of time to ever touch Regulus in that way. 

James was planning to marry him. He just hadn’t worked up the courage to ask him yet. It had taken a long time for Regulus’s walls to come down and sometimes he still held back on certain occasions. He wanted to propose to him at the right moment, when he knew it wouldn’t overwhelm him.

“Possessive fucking bastard,” Regulus huffed. James hooked his hand under his thigh and pulled his leg up to wrap it around his waist. Regulus’s head fell back as he continued to kiss along his collarbone. “You’re sure it looks okay? I had to size up, and I felt a bit shit about that.”

“I know that’s hard,” James soothed. “But believe me when I say you are stunning. I love you.” 

He shifted his hips to press his hardened cock into Regulus’s thigh to hammer home the point. Regulus was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen, and James would love him in every size and shape. Vampires rarely changed much after they were changed, but even if they didn’t plan to change Regulus eventually, James was confident he would never stop loving him. He touched and kissed every bit of his skin and always came back wanting more. 

“I love you,” Regulus said, shifting uncomfortably. “But these rhinestones are digging into my… well you don’t want to know,” James responded by snaking a hand up the side of the costume to cup his ass. “Ah… no.” 

James let out a little puff of air. He’d convince Regulus to let him fuck him in a costume, one day, perhaps one of the more comfortable ones. “Okay, whatever you want, you get.”

He pulled back, watching as Regulus slipped out from under him, ducking behind a rack of costumes. James caught glimpses of him changing on the other side, his nimble fingers quickly unlaced the back of the shimmer fabric. 

“While we have a minute, I wanted to talk to you,” James called over the rack. Regulus absentmindedly nodded, methodically pulling bits of his costume away from his body. “The private investigator called the house before I left.”

Regulus stilled and glanced over at him. His gaze was piercing. “Oh… and?” he asked with faux nonchalance.

“She found your brother,” James carefully told him. Excitement bubbled in his stomach, but he didn’t want to come on too strong. The topic of Sirius was always a difficult one, and he wanted to keep a steady, even temperament while relaying the information. “He’s here in Paris, living at 27 rue de Fleurus. He’s got a boyfriend named Remus. They opened a bookstore and a pastry shop together. Sirius bakes those croissants you love so much.”

“Sirius is here?” Regulus breathed. “In Paris?”

James had believed for a long time that the two brothers were more alike than Regulus realized and the fact he was in Paris too only further proved that. 

“Yup.” He nodded, unable to suppress a grin. “Do you want to meet him?”

“I think so,” Regulus told him, fastening a silk robe closed. He walked back immediately, melting into James’s chest, using him as physical support. “But I’m scared.”

“That’s okay. We’ll do it together,” James encouraged. He ran his fingers through his curls, tangling them at the nape of his neck. “Only if that’s what you want.”

“I want to,” Regulus whispered. Then he lifted his chin, gingerly pressing their lips together. “Thank you.” James didn’t say anything, he simply kissed him again. Their bodies slotted together perfectly. Regulus took in a shuddering breath as James rolled his hips into him. “Okay… enough talk.”

Chapter Text

bonus chapter

Sirius slowly popped the buttons of his shirt closed before smoothing down the fabric to tuck it into his pants. It was Remus’s turn to open the cafe and bookstore. Which meant Sirius was on his own that morning. Of course, they had staff who rotated through the task, but it was only fair they were in that rotation as well. 

They’d lived in their modest apartment for about two years. The space consisted of a kitchen, living room, bedroom and a library for Remus. It was nothing compared to the grand homes Sirius grew up in. However, he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

His life looked nothing like he thought it would’ve. He had to scrape every penny for what he had. Once the cafe and bookstore started bringing in revenue, things turned around for him. But there’d been many days that he and Remus lived off only the essentials. 

To Sirius’s surprise there was a loud buzzing sound, alerting him to the fact there was someone at the door. His brows pinched as he made his way down a small staircase to the front landing of the apartment. He wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not in the middle of a weekday. Everyone he knew was typically at work by then. 

He wretched the door open, his jaw dropping as he took in the last person he expected to see; his brother. 

“Reggie?” he breathed. The nickname rolled off his tongue easily. Easier than he would have expected, considering the ill will Sirius typically felt toward his sibling. 

Regulus stood silently watching him. His pale blue eyes gave no indication of what was happening behind them. 

“You gonna say something?” Sirius snapped. “Or did you come all this way to simply gawk at me?”

Regulus’s lips twitched downward, accompanied by an almost imperceptible flinch. He was being too harsh. He knew that. It just felt like some sort of dream to see Regulus standing on his front porch. 

The last time he saw his brother had been the day Sirius left home. He’d begged his brother to go with him, yet he hadn’t been able to convince him. It was the worst sort of memory. The kind Sirius had tried miserably to stamp down. Yet in moments of weakness he found he lingered on the thought of his brother’s resolute face. 

It made it all the more clear that something must have happened. “Is everything okay?” Sirius asked suddenly, worried for his brother. Why was he there? Surely his parents wouldn’t be happy if they were to find out. “Mom and Dad… they’re not putting you in danger or something, are they?”

“I left,” Regulus cooly stated. But Sirius could tell his words were trained to sound casual. There was a tightness to them that only a sibling could detect. 

“New York?” Sirius said, his brows pinching. “Yeah, I can see that-“

“No, I left home,” Regulus corrected. “Mom and dad. Priori incantatem. I left it all.”

“Come in?” Sirius found himself asking despite himself. Remus would be wondering where he was, but surely under the circumstances he wouldn’t mind. 

“Ummm...” Regulus hummed, rocking back onto his feet. He looked over his shoulder, and for the first time, Sirius could see a man with glasses standing lent into a car on the street. 

Sirius wasn’t thrilled at the thought of having houseguests. However, he was worried his brother would bolt. He was sure there was a reason he showed up and wasn’t willing to risk missing the story. “Your friend can come too if you’ll be more comfortable,” Sirius suggested. 

“James isn’t my friend,” Regulus corrected, his face softening. “He’s my fiancée.”

“Oh,” Sirius mused. He hadn’t been expecting that. Surely Regulus didn’t have the luxury of marrying. Not with the way their parents were, perhaps that had something to do with him leaving. 

“I’m just gonna tell him I’m going inside,” Regulus told him. Then he darted across the sidewalk to the man. 

Watching Regulus speak with James was like watching a different human being. He somehow looked softer, and Sirius didn’t miss the way they melted together as they briefly hugged. 

When Regulus return Sirius lead him to the kitchen. They sat at the little table, and Sirius puttered around, fixing them a pot of tea on the stove. 

“You live here?” Regulus asked. “With Remus?”

“How do you know about him?” Sirius asked, looking over his shoulder. He found Regulus’s eyes scanning the room with curiosity. To his surprise, there was no judgment there. 

“James hired a private investigator,” Regulus explained. “I know about the croissants too.”

Sirius raised his brows. “What?”

“You bake my favourite.” Suddenly Regulus looked thirteen again. His face was soft, his gaze eager, and his eyes were shining and bright. 

Pain au chocolate was a rather popular pastry. It wasn’t uncommon for bakeries to carry them. Still, Sirius would be lying if he didn’t think of his brother every time he baked them. Old habits die hard, and a sibling’s love dies harder. “Yeah,” Sirius told him, smiling fondly. “Reminds me of when we were kids.” 

Regulus’s face broke into a smile, and it was the first time Sirius let himself believe he might really have his brother back. “What else do you know?”

“Not much,” Regulus said, shrugging. “They had a whole file on you, but I didn’t want to read it. I wanted to hear it all from you.”

“What if I didn’t want to tell you?” He set a peppermint tea down on the table in front of Regulus before taking a seat. 

“Then that’s your choice. I will respect it,” Regulus said, eyes downcast as he sipped his tea. “You gonna tell me what you’ve been up to since we last saw each other?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Sirius admitted. A single smile might not have been enough to bridge years of resentment. In the early days, Sirius often dreamt that his brother would come to find him. That he’d realized he’d made a mistake, but years had passed with no word from his brother, and resentment grew. 

“I know you hate me,” Regulus mumbled, unable to meet Sirius’s eye.

The words sat heavy in Sirius stomach. Resentment had never quite grown into hate. He could never hate his baby brother. He simply thought they were wired differently. They had different priorities, but in a world where they were unmarred by their parents’ harsh expectations, things could be different. Their differences might not feel so heavy. 

“I don’t hate you,” Sirius explained. “I haven’t always understood you, but I don’t hate you.”

Regulus looked unconvinced, and Sirius was certain he was stubborn as ever. Nothing would change his mind except for time, which they might not have. 

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Sirius suggested, his curiosity winning out. “How did we get here?”

“James Potter.”

“Was that who was outside my house?” Sirius incredulously asked, growing more confused. And even more curious.

Of course, he knew the name. James was a member of the Hallows. One of the vampires Sirius would have been paired with had he stuck around. Naturally, that would have rolled over to Regulus. Yet, if Sirius’s memory served him well, James was over one hundred by now. Plus, it was evident Regulus wasn’t one of the chosen. He was still very much himself. 

“Yeah, but it’s not what it looks like,” Regulus told him. “He came and met me before our parents could get involved, and we fell in love. It’s more complicated than that, but I’m sure you don’t need to know the details.”

“Spare me,” Sirius chuckled. 

“I didn’t come around to leaving easily though,” Regulus continued. “An old flame of his nearly killed me. It was pretty dramatic. I burned an entire warehouse down to escape him. Almost dying... it put things in perspective for me. So when James offered to take priori incantatem off the table, I had to take it. I wanted to be in a real relationship. So I ran away to France. I opened a burlesque club here, that I dance at and I’m gonna get married.”

“Damn,” Sirius said in awe. He lent back in his chair, propping his arms behind his head. “I don’t know which part I’m more proud of. You leaving mom and dad or burning that building down. Here I was thinking I had a flair for the dramatics.”

The two brothers stared at each other for a long moment. Really seeing each other for the first time that day. Sirius had long since written off his brother, yet there he was sitting across from him. And Sirius wasn’t lying when he said he felt proud. 

Sirius rocked forward in his chair and sipped his tea. “James hasn’t turned you?” He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

“He will eventually,” Regulus told him. “He thinks it would be funny if I were an older man, by a day or so.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Sirius scoffed. He knew better than anyone that their parents could track Regulus down and try to drag him back to New York. They could find some way to spin his absence and then get what they’d always wanted. However, if James turned Regulus, that option would be gone to them. He could no longer take part in the ceremony anymore if he’d already been turned. 

Hell, if Sirius had a way, he’d turn himself too. He had more than enough reasons to wish he wasn’t human any longer. 

“That’s James,” Regulus said, smiling fondly. Either he wasn’t afraid of their parents anymore, or he hadn’t realized the danger he was in. Either way, he didn’t seem to mind that James hadn’t turned him yet, and Sirius wasn’t about to cause problems for them. 

“Okay,” Sirius resigned. “I get all of that, but why look for me?”

“I miss you,” Regulus breathed. His voice was so low that Sirius almost couldn’t make out the words. 

It couldn’t have been easy for Regulus to admit that. It was only fair that Sirius gave him something in return. “I travelled through Europe the year after leaving home before I met Remus,” Sirius told him. “He’s a werewolf. Which is hard because I will age, but he won’t. For me, it doesn’t matter though. Still, it’s hard on him. I’ve never known love like what he’s shown me. We travelled a bit before settling in France. I came here-“

“Because it was the only place you could remember being happy?” Regulus’s eyes were shining earnestly. “It was the same for me.”

Sirius’s eyes stung as he looked down at the watch on his wrist. “I’m supposed to be at the shop soon,” he explained. “If you want, I can leave it though.”

“No, I… this is a lot,” Regulus stuttered. “I want to see you again, but I think we need to go slow. It’s hard for me.”

“Okay,” Sirius mused. “Can I come by the club sometime soon? I’d love to see it.”

“I’d like that,” Regulus warmly said. 

The brothers said a tentative goodbye that Sirius regretted. As soon as Regulus was gone, he wished he’d said more, but what else was new when it came to his brother. There’d always been so much unsaid between them, but now there would be time for that. 

Sirius rushed across the city to the shop, where he found Remus. 

“Hey baby,” Remus said, kissing his temple. “Everything alright? You’re late.” 

“Actually,” Sirius mused, chewing on his words. “My brother showed up at our front door. “He lives in Paris now. Left my parents and New York behind. Owns a burlesque club. Hired someone to find me.”

Remus’s mouth dropped open into a small o. “And?”

“And I’m happy for him,” Sirius admitted. “He seemed so... reserved. We feel like strangers. But he’s got this fiancé who was waiting outside, and they seemed happy. You should have seen how he talked about him. It’s like even behind his wall, you could see how content he is. He’s proud of himself for leaving, and the club he runs is-“

“Good for him,” Remus bristled. “But what about you? Your estranged brother, that you hate, shows up and-“

“I don’t hate him,” Sirius corrected. “I hate my family, and he’s an extension of them. Or at least he was. I never thought he’d leave, but now that he was maybe we have a chance of being like we were.”

“Is that what you want?” Remus asked.

“Yeah,” Sirius explained. “I want to get to know him again.”