Chapter Text
James POV
Regulus kissed like he was trying to burn himself alive.
And then—just as quickly as it had started—he ran.
James barely had time to register the way Regulus’ fingers had curled into his jacket, the way his breath had hitched when James deepened the kiss. He barely had time to process the weight of Regulus pressing against him before it was gone—before he was gone.
“Fuck,” James muttered, blinking against the haze of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and sheer disbelief.
It had happened in a blur. One second, Regulus was kissing him back, leaning into him like he needed this, like he’d finally let himself want it. The next, he was shoving James away with a muttered curse, storming out of the club without so much as a glance back.
James let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his already-messy curls. He should be pissed. He should be chasing after him. But instead, he just stood there, watching the door swing shut in Regulus’ wake.
Because if James had learned anything about Regulus Black, it was this: you don’t chase him when he runs.
He’ll only run faster.
“Shit,” Sirius’ voice cut through the noise, and James turned to find him watching with a mix of amusement and concern. “Did you just scare my little brother out of the club?”
James groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “He kissed me first.”
Sirius’ grin was sharp. “And then he bolted.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” James snapped, exasperated.
Remus appeared beside them, beer in hand, eyebrows raised. “Let me guess—Regulus had a moment of reckless abandon and is now spiraling into a pit of self-loathing?”
James pointed at him. “That.”
Remus hummed, taking a sip of his drink. “Classic.”
Sirius snorted. “Welcome to the lifelong tragedy that is Regulus’ emotional repression.”
James sighed, rolling his shoulders, trying to shake off the frustration creeping under his skin. “I knew he’d panic, but I didn’t think he’d—” He gestured toward the door. “I don’t know. Vanish.”
Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Look, mate, if it helps? That was probably the most exciting thing Regulus has done in years.”
James wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be reassuring or depressing.
Remus leaned against the bar, studying him. “So what now?”
James exhaled. “Now? I wait.”
Sirius blinked. “You’re not gonna track him down and force a heart-to-heart?”
James shook his head. “Nope.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting an explanation.
James sighed, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “If I go after him now, he’ll just shut me out. He needs to sit with it. He needs to want to come back.”
Remus nodded approvingly. “Smart.”
Sirius, however, looked unimpressed. “You’re just gonna sit around and hope he doesn’t pretend it never happened?”
James smirked. “Oh, he’ll try.” He leaned forward, grabbing his drink off the bar. “But I’ve got time. And I don’t give up that easy.”
Sirius let out a short laugh. “God, you’re so annoying.”
James grinned. “And yet, here you are, still my biggest fan.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, but there was fondness behind it.
Remus, ever the voice of reason, nudged James lightly. “Just don’t let him push you too far away. If you give him too much space, he’ll convince himself he never wanted you in the first place.”
James tapped his fingers against his glass, considering. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”
Because James knew Regulus.
Knew he was already spiraling, already rationalizing his way out of this, already convincing himself that what just happened was a mistake.
But James also knew one more thing.
Regulus wanted him.
And that meant he wasn’t going to be able to run forever.
Regulus POV
Regulus slammed the door to his apartment shut behind him, heart hammering so violently in his chest that he could feel it in his throat. His breath was uneven, sharp, and his hands—fuck—his hands were shaking.
He ripped off his jacket, tossing it onto the floor before running a hand through his hair. His reflection in the mirror by the door looked wrecked—lips swollen, pupils blown wide, face flushed.
He scrubbed a hand over his mouth like he could erase the feeling of James against him, of his hands gripping Regulus like he belonged to him, of the way he’d kissed back before his brain caught up with his body.
“Fuck,” he muttered, pacing across the room. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He should’ve never gone to that club. He should’ve never let James corner him, let him get close enough to kiss him, let himself want it.
But he had.
And that was the problem.
Because for one reckless, reckless moment, he’d let himself pretend. Pretend that James wasn’t James Potter, the most annoyingly persistent person on the planet. Pretend that this wasn’t dangerous, wasn’t something that would only end in disaster.
He groaned, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, bracing himself as if the ground might give out beneath him. He needed to stop thinking about it. Needed to get it out of his head. Needed—
A knock on the door made him flinch.
He turned sharply, pulse spiking again. No. No way. James wouldn’t have followed him—he wouldn’t—
Another knock, more impatient this time.
Regulus hesitated, then forced himself to move. He wrenched the door open, every muscle in his body tense—
And came face-to-face with Pandora Lovegood.
Regulus exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to his temple. “Oh, thank Merlin.”
Pandora blinked at him, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “That’s an odd greeting.”
Regulus shut the door behind her, letting his head thunk against the wood. “I thought you were someone else.”
Pandora hummed, tilting her head. “James Potter?”
Regulus froze.
Pandora just smiled, entirely too pleased with herself.
Regulus turned to glare at her. “How—”
She plopped herself onto his couch, looking perfectly at ease. “You look like someone who just made a terrible decision that they actually really, really wanted to make.”
Regulus groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “I hate you.”
“You love me,” she corrected cheerfully. “Now, tell me everything.”
Regulus stalked over, dropping onto the couch beside her with a deep scowl. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Pandora just gave him a look. “Regulus.”
He crossed his arms.
She waited.
He sighed, tilting his head back against the cushions. “I kissed him.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, finally.”
Regulus shot her a glare. “Don’t.”
She grinned. “Did he kiss you back?”
Regulus scoffed. “Obviously.”
Pandora laughed, tucking her legs under her. “And then you what? Had an existential crisis and ran away?”
Regulus scowled. “I left.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Quickly,” he admitted through gritted teeth.
Pandora shook her head, laughing under her breath. “You are so predictable.”
Regulus groaned again, covering his face with his hands. “I can’t do this, Dora.”
She leaned closer, nudging his arm. “Why not?”
Regulus dropped his hands, looking at her incredulously. “Are you serious?”
She nodded. “Completely.”
He let out a sharp breath. “Because it’s James Potter. Because he’s relentless, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. And because I want him too, which is exactly why I can’t—” He cut himself off, shaking his head.
Pandora’s expression softened slightly. “So, you’re scared.”
Regulus snapped his gaze to her, irritation flaring. “I’m not scared.”
She just looked at him.
Regulus clenched his jaw. “I’m not.”
Pandora tilted her head, watching him carefully. “Regulus.”
His throat felt tight. “It’s just—he’s just—” He exhaled, rubbing his fingers against his temple. “I don’t know how to be with someone like that.”
Pandora’s gaze softened even more. “You don’t have to be anything, Reg. You just have to let yourself want it.”
Regulus swallowed hard, looking away.
Silence settled between them, heavy and thick.
Then Pandora reached out, taking his hand and squeezing it. “You know he’s not going to stop wanting you just because you ran, right?”
Regulus closed his eyes. “I know.”
Pandora gave him a small, knowing smile. “So, what are you going to do?”
Regulus didn’t have an answer.
Because he knew James wasn’t going to let this go.
And, deep down, he wasn’t sure he wanted him to.
Sirius & Remus
The tour bus rumbled down the darkened road, the low hum of the engine filling the space. Most of the band had turned in for the night, exhaustion from the show finally catching up to them. James had vanished to his bunk, probably brooding over Regulus, and Marlene, Dorcas, Lily, and Mary had long since collapsed into their seats, tangled together in an exhausted heap.
But Sirius was still awake.
He sat on the small couch near the kitchenette, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers, unlit. His foot tapped restlessly against the floor, an excess of energy burning under his skin. The show had been electric, the adrenaline still simmering in his veins. But it wasn’t just the performance keeping him awake. It was the way his mind kept circling back to him.
Remus.
Sirius exhaled sharply, glancing toward the other side of the bus.
Remus was seated at the small table by the window, one leg curled up against his chest, a book balanced on his knee. He looked impossibly calm, brow furrowed in quiet concentration, fingers curled around the pages like they were something fragile. His hair was still damp from his post-show shower, curls falling messily into his face.
He wasn’t looking at Sirius, but Sirius felt him.
Felt the pull of him, like gravity, like inevitability.
It was maddening.
The two of them had spent years dancing around something unspoken, something Sirius didn’t have the words for but felt in his bones. It was in the way Remus looked at him when he thought Sirius wasn’t paying attention, the way his touch lingered longer than necessary, the way his presence settled Sirius in a way nothing else ever did.
And it was in the way Sirius could never stop looking at him.
He brought the cigarette to his lips, hesitated. He didn’t really want it—he just needed something to do with his hands.
Across the bus, Remus sighed, closing his book and stretching his arms above his head, muscles shifting under his worn-out band tee. His gaze flickered toward Sirius, tired but alert.
“You gonna light that, or are you just trying to look cool?”
Sirius smirked, twirling the cigarette between his fingers. “I always look cool, Moony.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched, like he was trying not to smile. “It’s two in the morning, Pads. Go to sleep.”
Sirius huffed, slumping back against the couch. “Can’t.”
Remus quirked an eyebrow. “Adrenaline?”
Sirius shrugged. “Something like that.”
Remus watched him for a moment, then unfolded himself from his seat, making his way over. He sat down next to Sirius, their shoulders barely brushing, but it sent a shockwave through Sirius’ system all the same.
Silence settled between them, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but wasn’t exactly comfortable either.
Remus tilted his head, studying Sirius. “Wanna talk about it?”
Sirius let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “What is this, therapy?”
Remus huffed. “No, but I am your best friend. Which means I know when you’re spiraling.”
Sirius’ stomach twisted. Best friend.
He took a slow breath, rolling the cigarette between his fingers again. “Just thinking.”
Remus hummed. “Dangerous.”
Sirius huffed a laugh. “Yeah.”
Another beat of silence. Then—
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Remus’ voice was quiet, careful.
Sirius stiffened slightly. “Who?”
Remus shot him a knowing look.
Sirius groaned, tipping his head back against the couch. “Christ, everyone’s obsessed with my brother tonight.”
Remus’ expression didn’t change. “You’re worried about him.”
Sirius exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “I just—” He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I don’t get him. I mean, I do—he’s always been like this, running from anything real. But this thing with James—” He shook his head. “It’s different.”
Remus studied him for a moment before leaning back against the couch, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Maybe because James won’t let him run.”
Sirius sighed. “Yeah.”
Remus nudged his knee against Sirius’. “That’s a good thing, you know.”
Sirius grunted noncommittally.
More silence. More tension.
Sirius should’ve gotten up. Should’ve put some space between them before he did something stupid.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he let the quiet stretch, let himself feel the warmth of Remus beside him, let himself want—just for a second.
Remus shifted, turning his head slightly, eyes catching Sirius’ in the dim light.
And fuck, he shouldn’t be looking at him like that.
Like he knew.
Like he wanted Sirius to do something about it.
Sirius swallowed hard, fingers clenching around the cigarette, pulse pounding against his ribs.
The air between them crackled.
But then Remus cleared his throat, looking away.
“We should get some sleep,” he murmured.
Sirius let out a slow breath. “Yeah.”
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them spoke.
The distance between them felt impossibly small and insurmountably vast all at once.
And Sirius—reckless, impulsive, fucking hopeless Sirius—couldn’t help but wonder how much longer they could do this.
How much longer they could keep pretending.