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“I’d forgive you, you know.” Regulus says. James looks down from the sky to glance at Regulus, sitting opposite him on the cold floor of the Astronomy Tower. He furrows his brows and cocks his head in question. He and James have been meeting here nearly every night for the past year and honestly, it’s Regulus’ favourite part of the day. But he won’t tell anybody that. He shifts awkwardly under James’ gaze and takes a deep breath. “If you were in love with me.”
James looks startled. Like a deer in headlights, the resemblance is really quite uncanny. A million emotions flash through his eyes.
“You’d... forgive me if I were in love with you?” he asks, repeating Regulus’ words back to him. Regulus quickly looks back up at the sky, nodding. A silence falls between the two of them. It isn’t... awkward, per se, it’s merely contemplative. James is trying to figure out what to say next. “Rather presumptuous of you, don’t you think?” he says finally, breaking the silence. Regulus doesn't even need to look in order to picture the expression on James’ face right now: slight crooked grin, raised eyebrow, with an underlying note of concern.
“Mm, no, I don’t think so,” Regulus replies, humming and tracing all his favourite constellations in the sky with his eyes. His knees are drawn up to his chest, arms folded around them, leaning back against the wall. James deflates at that, falling back against his own side of the wall. Yet again, Regulus can perfectly picture his face without needing to look; eyes cast down, face blank but hiding sadness. No, not sadness... sorrow. It's because of that that Regulus doesn’t look. Why he can’t. Because it would simply destroy him. He hates to do this, but it can't be any other way, can it?
“I’m-” James cuts himself off with a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. Regulus dares to look back and oh, what a mistake that was. A few silent tears have fallen down the sides of his cheeks and he looks so... quiet. It’s unnatural to see him like this. Regulus tries his best to keep himself together, looking at him with a sad smile.
“I forgive you, baby,” Regulus replies, reaching forward to wipe the tears off of James’ face with the pads of his thumbs, cradling James’ face. Because Regulus is a weak, weak man. He just can’t resist. James looks up, eyes wide in confusion and... hope? Oh, Regulus hates to give him hope. But what is he meant to do? He reaches a hand up to brush the hair out of his face, and readjust his glasses. James is frozen in place, watching every one of Regulus’ moves intently and with purpose.
Regulus bites his lip, and James’ eyes immediately follow the motion. And then Regulus does something monumentally idiotic. And so, so wonderful. He leans forward and brushes his lips over James’. Instantly, he feels the sensation of that one brief moment of contact travel through his whole body. It tingles all the way to the tips of his fingers, the top of his head, every nerve ending in his body. It feels so good, and so awful at the same time. Because it's going to hurt.
“Reg?” James reaches up a hand to loosely hold Regulus' wrist, still cupping James’ cheek.
“You’re crying, love.” Regulus brings himself to look right into James’ eyes again, his own swimming with tears as they fall quickly. He must look pathetic. Realisation seems to cross James’ face and Regulus hates him. Hates that he can read him so easily like that, just one second of eye contact, and James can crack him open and find all his secrets. He hates that with a single touch, he can read all of his emotions. That with a moment of silence, he can hear all of his thoughts. And that with a glance, he can see his whole history.
Regulus hates him. He hates him. He hates him. He hates him. He loves him. He loves him so unbelievably much and he wants to rip his own heart out of his chest so he can give it to James. So James can have it and keep it. Regulus doesn’t want that wretched, rotted thing. But James would cherish it. He would take care of it, and nurse it back to health, and breathe life back into it. But he’s stuck with this wretched, rotted heart of his. And it’s because of it that he can’t give it away, no matter how desperately he wants to. No matter how much he begs; that cold-blooded, slowly beating, life-sustaining organ is locked in his chest forever.
“I-” Regulus chokes on his own words, face drenched in a mix of still falling tears and snot. He wipes his face off with the sleeve of his robes. “I’m so sorry.” he sobs. His cries are no longer silent as he falls forward onto James’ shoulder, heaving sobs and trying to breathe. James just holds him and it’s awful, because he’s just too lovely of a person.
Regulus said he would forgive James for loving him, but he doesn’t really, does he? Because he’s left his favourite person, the love of his life, the best person this cruel world is lucky enough to have. He’s left that person stuck loving him. Regulus’ wretched, rotted heart will infect James’, warm and full, and it’s already too late to turn back and fix it. James fell in love with him. Regulus is such a selfish idiot, he should’ve run away when he could. Didn’t want to; couldn’t, maybe. But the details don’t matter. What’s done is done, and it’s all Regulus’ fault.
And because James knows him better than anybody else, he lifts Regulus’ head off his shoulder to wipe his face off and make him look at him again.
“Shhh, no, don’t do that, love,” he says softly. “None of this is your fault.” Regulus’ bottom lip is fucking quivering and he’s very nearly on the verge of whimpering. He feels so delicate and pathetic. Like if somebody were to tap his forehead, he would shatter. But James, lovely, horrible, beautiful, awful James, is so careful. He touches him, not like he’s made of glass, but like him. Like Regulus. Somebody who’s struggling; not a shattering object, but a fragile person. A person who needs to be held with care, not to avoid a break, but to just be there. To comfort.
It’s such a human urge. To be there and to comfort those you love. The purest form of love. The kind that’s doomed from the start. There’s nothing to be gained, only a heart to give away. Regulus tries. He tries so fucking hard to reach up and rip out his heart. He scratches and claws at his chest, trying frantically, desperately, to reach what he’s grasping at. But the wretched, rotted thing remains locked in its metal box. No matter how much he destroys himself, Regulus will never reach the one thing he wants. The thing he wants to give away, so that he might be free from its suffocating embrace.
Regulus feels his hand slip away from his torso and he releases a harrowing sound; beyond sobs or cries, or even screams. Just pure, unbridled sorrow for a life he’ll never get to live. For the man he’ll never get to love. For the heart that’ll never heal, and the pieces of himself that will never piece back together. He’ll remain a broken, sorry excuse for a human, until the day that he dies.
“Hey, hey come back, love,” James says, caressing Regulus’ cheeks in the softest of touches. Softer than Regulus knew was possible. He feels so cared for, so special. Like maybe he really is as incredible as James makes him out to be. “Come back to me.” And Regulus does. Because he's pathetic, and he can’t deny this man a single thing, except the contents of the lockbox in his chest.
“But- but we can’t,” Regulus pleads. “James, I can’t.” He’s done enough damage already. James understands. He does. And Regulus wishes he didn't. James should hate him. He should be cursing and yelling and leaving Regulus behind. But he isn’t. He’s still here. “Baby, please,” he begs as a last attempt to rescue either of their hearts from any further damage. But that’s the thing about love, isn’t it? It’s never a choice in the first place. Their hearts will break either way. The question is merely whether they’ll do it together or alone. “Please.”
And James, the stunning, horrid, divine, dreadful man that he is, doesn’t listen. And thank Merlin for that. He leans in and kisses him. This time, it’s more than just a brush of lips. The second James’ mouth is against his, Regulus all but melts into James’ arms. The rest of the world, all his troubles, all his worries, whatever horrible fate awaits him in the morning dissolves. He’s lost to the lips of James Potter, utterly at his beck and call. At this moment, Regulus can’t think of a single reason he wouldn’t follow him anywhere.
How can he think of anything else? When James’ fingers are tightening in Regulus’ hair, and he’s pushing into him like he’s the only thing on this fucking Earth that matters. When they get desperate and sloppy, and James licks his way into Regulus’ mouth, soft noises escaping both of them. When James pulls Regulus into his lap, and holds him as close as humanly possible, as though to meld them into one.
Regulus doesn’t think he would mind that. Being one with James Potter. It already feels like it with the way their tongues dance around each other, passing warmth and heartbreaking love between them. In the way Regulus inhales and can smell the scent of the forest in James’ shampoo. Evergreen and sandalwood. He feels the comforting pressure of one of James’ hands still entangled in his hair, and the other holding the small of his back, pushing their chests flush together. How Regulus’ legs wrap around James’ waist.
They already are one with each other. The issue was never whether they could come together, it was how they could ever tear apart. James Potter and Regulus Black were always made from the same cloth. Forged from the same metal. Weathered by the same water. They were never meant to be separated. But Regulus breaks them, just like he always does, if only for a few moments.
He pulls back and rests his forehead on James’, both of their breaths deep and heavy. Regulus looks up at James through his eyelashes and is met with mesmerising brown irises, adorned with drops of gold, mostly covered by pupils blown wide. Regulus doesn’t dare to venture whether it’s from fear, surprise, lust or, far more terrifyingly, love. James’ eyelids flutter as he tries to catch his breath. Regulus brings his hands back from their place around James’ neck to frame his face.
“I just- I just needed to check,” he whispers. And James understands. Because when doesn’t James understand. He’s so lovely. It’s just terrible.
“I’m here,” James assures, his hot breath ghosting across Regulus’ face, making him shudder. Barely a moment passes before Regulus is pulling James’ face back in and crashing them together. This time, it isn’t two people trying to meld together, it’s two stars exploding. A supernova, sparks flying from every point of contact. And maybe Regulus is crazy, maybe this really is just a disastrous explosion waiting to happen, but he can’t help but feel elated about it.
Especially when James’ mouth finds his neck and, apparently, James’ new fixation. Especially when it takes less than a minute for James to turn Regulus into a mess of begging and moans after reaching his neck. Especially when it just feels so fucking good. Especially when his tie ends up on the floor, along with many other pieces of clothing. Especially when Regulus has never felt euphoria in the way James has shown it to him. Especially when James looks down at him with nothing more than pure adoration and awe while rocking his hips into him and watching Regulus fall apart below him. Especially when James drinks down every one of Regulus' noises like a fucking drug, asking for more. Especially when James starts whining Regulus' name and shaking against him.
No, with all of those things, it makes it very hard to feel anything less than ecstasy. But with the crash down from bliss, comes the crash back to reality. The one where James holds him and doesn't want to let go and Regulus doesn’t want to leave. The one where James begs him to stay, just for tonight, and Regulus agrees because he’s so weak. It all just feels meant to be. Like this is where the two of them would always end up, an inevitable tragedy.
James is draped around Regulus, who is curled up in a ball against his chest. He doesn’t ever want to leave. He wants to just try to claw at the metal box one last time. He wants to scream and pry it open with a crowbar, if need be. Whatever means necessary to find the wretched, dying organ, and hand it over to James. James is the only person that deserves it, the only person who could properly take care of it. That’s only solidified when James speaks again.
“I love you, Regulus Black,” he whispers, like a secret only for them. And oh, how unfortunate that it is.
“I love you too,” he says before breaking down crying in James’ arms, because oh, if that isn’t just the biggest shame Regulus has ever heard. He wants to be able to love him. Why can’t he? Why is the Universe so cruel? To push them together but refuse to let them stay? If all of what he’s thinking is true, then why the hell won’t the box in his chest open?
The two of them fall asleep that way, desperately clinging to each other and sobbing and so fucking stubborn. Not willing to leave the other. Just stuck forever. Until forever ends the next morning.
Regulus almost wishes he’d never spoken up. Almost. Because maybe, just maybe, the words I love you, Regulus Black, were enough to loosen the jammed lock on the metal box. Maybe there's still hope. Or maybe Regulus is just a silly child who needs to learn that everything lives in a metal box. That vulnerability is simply not an option. He’ll grow up soon enough. And he’ll leave this silly illusion of love behind. At least he really fucking hopes so.
Many years down the line, Regulus Black will scowl at anyone who dares utter those cursed words to him. “It’s better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all.” Because Regulus knows the way his whole being is scraped raw, eternally aching and never healing. He knows the way the metal box in his chest rusted but never did, and never will, open. And worst of all, he knows the way he never saw James Potter again.
Regulus never truly forgave James. But he holds out hope that one day James might forgive him for the simple, sinful act of falling in love.