Chapter Text
Somewhere through the fog of tears and relief, Regulus became vaguely aware of Remus's voice drifting from the kitchen. It was quiet enough that he almost missed it. "I'm going to head downstairs for a bit." There was no awkwardness in it. No annoyance. Just the simple kindness that seemed to live naturally inside Remus Lupin. Even from the kitchen, he had clearly decided this wasn't his moment. It belonged to the brothers. A second later came the familiar sound of the bookshop door opening below, followed by silence. For perhaps the first time since meeting Sirius, Remus had absolutely no desire to be involved.
Sirius eventually loosened his grip and guided Regulus towards the sofa with a hand resting lightly against his shoulder. The gesture felt so familiar it was almost painful. As though no time had passed at all. As though Sirius had always lived here. As though this sitting room had always belonged to both of them. Regulus sank down onto the cushions, exhausted from crying, while Sirius sat beside him without leaving more than a few inches of space between them. Neither seemed entirely willing to let the other out of sight.
After a while, Sirius admitted that he'd looked for him too. Not immediately after leaving. That had hurt too much. But later. Years later. When things had settled. When he thought enough time had passed that maybe Regulus would answer if he reached out.
"I couldn't find anything," Sirius said quietly. "No social media. No website. Nothing."
Regulus stared at him for a moment before letting out a watery laugh. Then another. Because suddenly the answer was embarrassingly obvious. "Oh my God."
Sirius frowned. "What?"
Regulus covered his face with both hands. "My username."
"Your what?"
"It's R.B99."
Sirius blinked. Then blinked again.
Regulus groaned. "On everything." A pause. "Literally everything."
For the first time that night, Sirius laughed properly. And despite the tears still drying on his cheeks, Regulus found himself laughing too. Because of course Sirius Black couldn't find Regulus Black when Regulus had spent six years hiding behind two letters and a number.
As the tears finally began to subside, Regulus became aware of something he'd somehow managed to ignore until now. Sirius was still shirtless. His jeans were still hanging dangerously low on his hips, and he looked thoroughly ridiculous sitting on the sofa trying to have an emotional reunion in the middle of a half-finished date.
Without thinking, Regulus grabbed the blanket draped over the armchair and threw it at him. Sirius caught it automatically.
"Thanks," he muttered.
As he pulled it around himself, Regulus's gaze snagged on the tattoo over Sirius's heart. Not one of the larger pieces scattered across his chest. A smaller one. Simpler. A cluster of stars inked dark against his skin. Regulus knew that shape. He'd seen it before in old astronomy books. The constellation he was named after. Regulus. For a moment he couldn't speak. He simply stared. Sirius followed his gaze, looked down at the tattoo, and immediately looked away.
After that, neither of them seemed capable of discussing anything complicated. The conversation collapsed into simpler things. Important things. Sirius telling him he'd missed him. Regulus admitting he'd missed him too. Sirius saying he loved him. Regulus saying it back so quickly it almost sounded desperate. Every few minutes Sirius would quietly insist he wasn't angry, and every few minutes Regulus would apologise again anyway. Neither of them appeared willing to stop.
Sirius would say, "I'm not angry, Reggie."
Regulus would answer, "I'm still sorry."
Then Sirius would repeat himself. Then Regulus would repeat himself. It was absurd. It was probably annoying. Yet somehow neither of them seemed capable of letting it go.
Eventually, after a long stretch of quiet, Sirius leaned back against the sofa and laughed softly to himself.
"What a coincidence, eh?" he said. "Meeting you here."
The moment the words left his mouth, guilt crashed into Regulus so hard he physically flinched. His eyes immediately dropped to his lap. Suddenly the cushion beneath him became fascinating. Sirius's amusement faded almost instantly. Because Regulus looked exactly like a child who'd been caught stealing sweets from a cupboard. Or perhaps a child who'd spent months carefully orchestrating increasingly ridiculous opportunities for his estranged brother to accidentally date his best friend.
Regulus kept staring at his hands.
Sirius waited.
Then, very quietly, Regulus said, "I saw you."
Sirius frowned. "What?"
"Two months ago." Regulus swallowed. "In Boogie."
The confusion on Sirius's face slowly gave way to understanding. "The record shop?"
Regulus nodded.
"I was buying juice." A nervous laugh escaped him. "Well. I was supposed to be buying juice.." He rubbed at his eyes. "And then Up the Junction started playing."
Sirius immediately groaned. "Oh, God."
"I know."
"I hate that you remember that."
"You played it constantly."
"It was a difficult time."
"You were fourteen."
Sirius looked genuinely offended.
Regulus almost smiled.
Then the smile vanished.
Because now the rest of it had to come out.
"I saw you through the window." His voice became quieter. "And then I followed you."
Sirius blinked.
"You what?"
"I followed you." The words arrived faster now.
"I didn't mean to. I just..." Regulus scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I hadn't seen you in six years."
Something softened in Sirius's expression.
But Regulus couldn't stop talking. Not now.
"I was going to speak to you." He laughed shakily. "No, that's a lie. I wasn't. I wanted to speak to you." A painful difference. "I kept thinking you'd look at me and walk away."
The admission hung heavily between them.
Regulus stared at the floor. "I thought you'd reject me."
Sirius opened his mouth.
Regulus kept going.
"I thought you'd hate me."
"Reggie—"
"So I didn't say anything."
His voice cracked. "I just kept watching." The confession sounded pathetic when spoken aloud, and somehow that made him more determined to tell the truth. "I learned where you got lunch."
Sirius was staring at him now, completely speechless.
"I learned where you worked."
"Oh my God."
"I know."
"You stalked me."
"I know."
Sirius pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.
Regulus carried on anyway.
Because at this point there was no dignity left to preserve.
"And then I remembered Remus was gay."
The room fell silent.
Slowly, Sirius lowered his hands. "What?"
"Remus is gay."
"Yes, I know that part."
"And you're gay."
Sirius looked towards the ceiling.
As though searching for strength.
"Oh, no."
"Oh, yes."
The words tumbled out faster now.
"I thought if Remus happened to meet you, and if you happened to like him, and if he happened to bring you back here one day, then maybe I'd get another chance."
Sirius stared.
Regulus stared back.
Then immediately looked away again.
"I broke his record player."
"You what?"
"So he'd go to Boogie." Regulus rambled, "I bought him sandwiches from Lily's."
"Reggie."
"I kept encouraging him to leave the flat."
"Reggie."
"I told him to make new friends."
Sirius was laughing now, because it was so absurd that his brain appeared to have stopped functioning.
Meanwhile Regulus wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
"I know it's insane."
"It is."
"I know."
Regulus buried his face in his hands.
And from somewhere deep inside Sirius came a laugh so familiar that, despite everything, it made Regulus's chest ache with happiness.
“Oh, Reggie. I love you, baby brother.”
They spent the entire night talking.
Every time one of them thought they had run out of things to say, another question appeared. Another story. Another six years' worth of missing information.
Sirius told Regulus about James and Lily and the garage and the little family he had built for himself.
Regulus told Sirius about The Shack and London and Remus and the quiet life he had somehow stumbled into.
At some point, Regulus mentioned that their parents had died in a car crash a few years earlier. The words felt strange leaving his mouth. Stranger still was the reaction. Neither of them looked sad. Neither of them cried. Instead, they exchanged a glance and smiled. Small smiles. Guilty smiles. The smiles of two animals finally realising the cage door had been left open.
Later, Sirius admitted he was absurdly grateful that Regulus had stalked him, orchestrated half of London, and accidentally played cupid.
"I'm serious, Reggie," he said for perhaps the tenth time. "I'm completely gone for him."
And for the first time all night, Regulus found himself laughing without crying immediately afterwards.
They spoke about the future, too.
Not cautiously. Not like people afraid the other might disappear. They planned. Properly planned. Sirius declared that Regulus would be joining him for lunch at Lily's from now on, which was considerably less embarrassing than watching him through café windows. Regulus informed Sirius that if he was going to have a brother again, then he would be required to read several hundred books immediately. Sirius protested. Regulus ignored him.
They discussed dinners and Sundays and Christmases and all the ordinary little things that had once felt impossible. Six years of distance suddenly seemed far less permanent when they were making plans for next week.
Sometime around four in the morning, Remus reappeared. Whether he'd actually spent hours downstairs or simply hidden himself away somewhere in the shop, neither brother knew. By then, however, enough tears had been shed that explanations felt easier. So they told him everything.
Not every detail, but enough.
Enough for Remus to understand. Enough for him to finally realise why Regulus had looked like a man being haunted for the past two months. The story ended with Sirius describing the elaborate scheme involving record players, cafés, and accidental encounters. Remus immediately smacked Regulus around the back of the head.
Then, before Regulus could complain, he pulled him into a hug. A proper one. The sort that made Regulus's throat tighten unexpectedly. Because Remus knew. He knew Regulus never spoke about home. Never spoke about his childhood. Never spoke about Sirius. And somehow, despite all that silence, he'd understood there had been something missing.
When dawn finally arrived, Remus fetched three glasses and a carton of organic apple juice from the fridge. Sirius complained about it. Regulus complained about it. Remus ignored both of them.
Together they sat out on the tiny balcony overlooking the waking city and watched the sunrise paint London gold. Sirius sat on one side of him. Remus sat on the other.
The apple juice was still absurdly overpriced.
The city was still noisy. The future was still uncertain. But as the sun climbed higher above the rooftops, Regulus found himself smiling anyway. Because for the first time in six years, his brother was beside him. His best friend was beside him.
And somehow, despite everything, Regulus knew life was going to be good.