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Approximately 17 days, 2 hours, and 15 minutes (give or take 5 minutes) have passed since that fateful moment in the library, and a bit of a thing has sprung up between James and Regulus.
… sadly, it’s related to the massage thing, not the kissing thing (not that James is complaining! He’s grateful to spend time with Regulus, of course, he is, it’s just… he’s being selfish, he should not wish for more).
And like before, the blame resides predominantly with one Sirius Black.
To understand the situation in its entirety, we must travel back to the very beginning, to the moment when James first laid eyes on the Black brothers.
They were on Platform 9 ¾. James and Sirius would soon be boarding the Hogwarts Express, bound for their first year at Hogwarts. Walburga and Orion Black had already buggered off, probably disgusted to be around so many common folk, but Regulus remained with his brother and the family house-elf. At the time, James had no idea who the posh-looking blighters were, but there were two things he could tell right off the bat; one, Sirius was obviously older, though James would later be surprised to learn just how close in age the siblings were, and two, he took his ‘big brother duties’ very seriously (back then, Regulus was a tiny little thing, but now, to Sirius’s chagrin, he’s recently eclipsed his sibling and is nearly the same height as James).
Although Sirius was the one going off to boarding school and was likely rather stressed about it all (James certainly was, even though he had spent most of August bouncing off the walls in anticipatory excitement), he dutifully spent a good fifteen minutes murmuring in a mix of rapid-fire French and fond/exasperated-sounding English to his visibly distressed sibling. James felt like a voyeur, but he couldn’t look away; here was the same aristocratic, uppity git who had scowled at him when they passed each other after storing their trunks, lovingly carding his fingers through his younger brother’s hair, comforting him, reassuring him that;
Don’t fret so much, little star, I’ll be perfectly fine at school… you’re going to have gray hairs by the time you leave for Hogwarts if you keep this up. Now, tell me again what you're to say if Aunt Cassie offers you a drink... no, Reggie, you say you’re on a cleanse that forbids any fruits, only mention alcohol directly if she pushes it. And if Grandfather Pollux asks you to go out on a walk with him and his friends? Exactly, you say you’re allergic to Muggle filth and politely decline. But if he insists, force yourself to throw up as soon as you get there, then call for Kreacher to take you home… no, Reg, you don’t ask for permission to call for Kreacher, you just do it. And yes, of course I promise to write to you every week, so long as you promise to share all the gossip with me, don’t be stingy on the details now, but also don’t get caught eavesdropping either, you remember what happened last time, yeah? And when Regulus, after checking that no one ‘important’ was looking, threw his arms around his older brother’s mid-section with a muffled sob (before the house elf snapped his fingers and enacted some sort of silencing spell), James saw Sirius hastily wipe away his own tears before the younger boy spotted them.
Having witnessed such a tender moment between the two, which also happened to be the singular reason that not five minutes later, James held back a snarky comment when Sirius stiltedly asked if he could share the train compartment with him, it was unsurprising to learn that the eldest Black brother was horrendously overprotective of his younger sibling. Before this current school year, he was much more subtle in his concern, to the extent that anyone who wasn’t a close friend of either Sirius or Regulus likely believed the brothers didn’t get along. But ever since they appeared on the Potter’s doorstep a few months ago (bloodied, bruised, and paradoxically supporting each other’s weight; Sirius’s injuries were much more extensive, but Regulus had been both magically and physically exhausted after ‘accidentally’ Apparating them from Grimmauld Place to Godric’s Hollow in his distress), Sirius has all but thrown subtly out the window.
Outside of lessons, Sirius refuses to be separated from his sibling for any length of time, something the sibling-in-question tolerates with minimal complaints. Sadly, classes take up a majority of their day (probably because we’re at Hogwarts to receive an education, Remus would surely say), so Regulus continues to have plenty of Sirius-free time throughout the week… despite the Gryffindor Black’s brazen attempt to eradicate this barrier. At the start of the term, James had the lovely pleasure of watching the younger Slytherin flush with mortification, and then quite literally facepalm, upon overhearing Sirius ask Professor McGonagall if Regulus could move up a year if he ‘passed some tests or wrote an essay about how much of a swot he is’… she didn’t roll her eyes, but it was close. Remus and James have a secret bet going regarding how long it’s going to take for Sirius to ask about his brother being resorted, with the hopes of him coming to Gryffindor. Pete, however, is firmly of the opinion that Sirius will eventually move Regulus into their dorm, regardless of what the rules (or his brother) have to say about it, no resorting necessary.
A well known fact at Hogwarts: wherever Sirius goes, a certain bespectacled boy... that being James himself... is never far behind.
James and the Black brothers frequently fly together whenever possible (the Quidditch season has only recently started, but he hopes they can still find time for it when their schoolwork/the number of practices increase in the coming weeks). Watching Regulus fly is captivating, Sirius wasn’t exaggerating in first year when he claimed his brother was a natural on a broom. On the ground, Regulus is quiet, reserved, cautious. But in the air? It’s like he becomes a completely different person, one who’s freed from the crushing weight of his burdens the moment he takes off. Whenever James and Sirius join him in the air, come on you old coots, you're both so slow, you’ll never beat Slytherin if you don’t learn to move faster, his eyes light up with pure, undiluted joy. James could easily become addicted to the delighted laugh Regulus lets out while racing his brother across the pitch, or the wide smile he can’t hide fast enough after he successfully goads the two Gryffindors into a competition of who can pull off the most impressive stunt (it’s also fun to watch Sirius struggle with competing desires - crush his younger sibling into the ground… metaphorically… or be the responsible older brother who doesn’t encourage dangerous/irresponsible behaviors).
On Tuesdays, Regulus endures unruly Dueling Club meetings, organized by this year’s incredibly incompetent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. James and Sirius only attend for a lark, using it as an excuse to either duel whoever pissed them off that week, or to mess with their peers by discreetly cultivating chaos. If James has been much more willing lately to volunteer for any demonstration that highlights his magical prowess, then that’s no one’s business but his own (however, he does now understand why Remus opts not to participate - if James might be a teeny bit more reckless now that he knows Regulus is watching, it’s only logical to conclude that Sirius would be a thousand times worse if his boyfriend were there). Regulus spends the entire meeting observing from the back of the Great Hall, firm in his desire to only spectate; James is perfectly content with Regulus’s decision, although he'd love to go toe-to-toe with him one day in a practice duel, because he absolutely lives for the younger boy’s post-meeting critique of their peers. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of hearing Regulus’s witty, sarcastic, and oftentimes, savage commentary.
In return, they’re ‘forced’ to accompany Regulus to Magical Creatures Club on Wednesdays, an organization supervised by Professor Kettleburn for those interested in magizoology. It’s a lot more ‘talking’ and a lot less ‘doing’ than Dueling Club, but the Care of Magical Creatures teacher is an engaging speaker, so it’s not terrible. Last week, Kettleburn arranged for a magizoologist to bring in a Swooping Evil, a dark creature that resembles a giant butterfly, except for its wolf-like skull, and feeds on human brains. ‘Nigel’ took quite a liking to Remus… in the ‘I-love-you-so-much’ way, not the ‘I-want-to-eat-your-brain’ way… which had James and Peter dying from laughing so hard at Sirius’s put-out expression. However, from what they’ve seen so far, all the other creatures, besides the Remus-loving-Swooping-Evil, are obsessed with Regulus; seeing him flush with a mixture of joy and pride when the fully-grown unicorn approached him instead of the girls jockeying for its attention, is likely one of James’s all time favorite memories (a close second was watching that same unicorn smack Sirius in the face with its tail… was it merely coincidence? Or was it because of Sirius’s muttered comment about ‘he’s pretty, I suppose, but I’m way prettier’?)
Despite being in different years, Regulus joins their group study sessions in the library (aka the ones organized by Remus, who then blackmails Sirius and James into going… Peter is smart enough to show up voluntarily). He’s also become a regular fixture in the weekly ‘homework parties’ in the Gryffindor Common Room (organized by Lily and Mary, that Remus bribes Sirius, James, and Peter to attend by claiming he won’t help them plot anymore pranks unless they go and behave). James isn’t entirely sure what Sirius said to the rest of their housemates (the Marauders are big proponents of ‘plausible deniability’), but everyone, including this year’s Head Boy, overlook the snake emblem on his brother’s robes. There’s no doubt about it, though - Regulus joined their homework sessions at the perfect time, seeing as how James has really been struggling in Herbology lately, a subject the younger Slytherin excels in. Funny how things like that tended to work out…
Hanging out with Regulus so often is amazing, though it’s doing nothing but make James’s crush on the younger boy even worse, and he is happy the two brothers are closer than ever. But what’s NOT great is the reason for the shift - Sirius’s misguided belief that it’s his fault Regulus ran away (resulting in Regulus losing a majority of his family, forfeiting his inheritance, abandoning his ‘best friend’ Kreacher, etc, so in Sirius's mind, the least he can do is ensure his ‘reclusive, unsociable brother isn’t alone’). Though to be fair, the Marauders had been trying to recruit the younger Black into becoming a permanent part of their friend group since he first came to Hogwarts, but they had spotty luck at best. Determined to succeed this year, Sirius had the (offensively) clever decision to recruit the girls in their year to do his bidding. And while Regulus ignored his brother, James, Remus, and Peter with practiced ease, the Gryffindor sixth-year girls were cunning, somehow hitting the younger Slytherin in all of his weak spots.
Over the last few weeks, James has overheard things like, ‘Why yes, I would love to see your kneazle’s kittens. Oh, I can name one? It would be an absolute honor!’ and ‘Your book club is called Prose Before Bros? Obviously, you can put me down as a member, when’s the next meeting?’ and ‘What do you mean first-year Muggleborns don’t know how to write with a quill? No adult deemed it important to teach them? Sweet Merlin, the school board really is a bunch of useless louts, aren’t they? Ugh, fine, I’ll help supervise the little gremlins during your Introductory to the Magical World class… absolutely not, my brother should not be allowed near impressionable children unless you want them to become his disciples… yes, that is a frightening thought, isn’t it?’
But spending so much time with Regulus means also realizing how often the younger teen suffers from headache after headache. James had hesitantly brought this up to Sirius one morning, intending to ask if this was a normal occurrence, He’s obviously fucking stressed, James, what do you expect? His entire world was just turned upside down, oh Godric, this is all my fault, I’m the worst brother ever … needless to say, Remus’s ‘good going’ glare was significantly unnecessary - James was well aware he had fucked up, thanks.
Absentmindedly fiddling with the flashcard he’s using to quiz Regulus, a flashcard from the deck James totally found at the bottom of his trunk from last year and definitely didn’t spend the afternoon creating, he frowns when the Slytherin rubs his temples. He already knew the younger teen was even more stressed out than usual, seeing as how he spent almost all of lunch whinging about how unprofessional it was for Slughorn to nonchalantly mention an important exam a mere three days ahead of time (‘It wasn’t on the syllabus, brother, I checked! What’s the point of having a syllabus to begin with, if it’s not going to be followed?! I’ll tell you what, though, Siri, this type of unscrupulous behavior will be added to the long list of gripes I’ll be owl’ing to the School Board once everything wrong with this place has been properly notated. Lily and I have twenty-seven rolls of parchment so far, but I’m confident we can make it to an even thirty by the end of the month. I mean, can you believe that a castle this size, on grounds this large, only employs one caretaker and one groundskeeper respectively? Oh, and did you know -’). He left everyone within earshot stunned, including Sirius, who had been floored by the sheer number of words that fell from his brother’s lips. The tirade only came to a begrudging end when James hastily interjected that as payment for the Regulus's assistance with his Herbology work, he would be happy to help him study every day and night leading up to the Potions exam (and then resolutely ignored Sirius and Remus’s raised eyebrows).
Earlier in the evening, James claimed the best couch in the Gryffindor Common Room for their study session, operating under the belief that a warm, cozy environment would help Regulus focus. Now, he internally debates on relocating. Fifteen minutes ago, he’d seen how Regulus’s eye twitched when a first-year laughed too loudly while playing a game of Exploding Snap across the room. Now, the Slytherin’s teeth were grinding together, courtesy of McLaggen, a seventh-year prick the Marauders can’t stand; after noticing the cover of Regulus’s textbook, for some insane reason, the Prefect decided to embark on an unsolicited spiel about how Potions was the easiest class of O.W.L. year.
“You make a good point,” James grits out, unabashedly cutting off the older boy mid-sentence. He would love to be truly bitchy, but McLaggen was a Prefect, and technically, it was against the rules to have Regulus, a Slytherin, in the Gryffindor Common Room. “But we’re gonna head upstairs where it’s quieter, so Reg can focus.”
McLaggen’s expression goes from pinched to lecherous in a heartbeat. “Right, quieter, so Black can focus.” James’s fingers itch to grab his wand, but fortunately, Regulus doesn’t see the git’s disgustingly lewd wink, having jumped (literally jumped, he’s so fucking cute) to his feet right after James finished speaking. “Well, I hope you lads have a nice night.”
Book bag slung over his shoulder, Regulus had been in the process of double-checking that he grabbed everything... but McLaggen’s tone has him glancing between the two Gryffindors in confusion. His gray eyes suddenly widen, and James swears he can feel his own cheeks heating when Regulus’s pale skin flushes bright red.
“Thanks, mate, you too,” James responds evenly, avoiding looking in Regulus’s… or anyone else’s… direction.
They climb the stairs to the dorms faster than what’s probably necessary, but they aren’t quick enough to miss hearing McLaggen’s jovial, “Don’t forget the silencing charms!” followed by a round of catcalls and hooting from the others currently in the Common Room… their inappropriate mirth is only bolstered by Peter scampering off seconds after they enter with a mumbled excuse about spending time with his Hufflepuff girlfriend. James does not appreciate his friend’s coy wink either! He quite enjoys being alive, thanks, so the last thing he wants is for Sirius to learn that his best mate has a crush on his younger brother. Prior to this year, James figured if word ever got out that he had a hopeless/pathetic/unrequited crush on Regulus, Sirius wouldn't be pleased, but it also wouldn't be the end of the world. Now, though? Might as well AK himself, and save his friend the trouble!
It doesn’t matter, though… even if Regulus was into blokes, he’d never choose you! And on the off chance he did, he’d dump you the second he realized what you’re really like.
The younger Slytherin had been in their dorm several times before, but never with just James, who’s gallantly trying not to freak out about it. Remus and Sirius were off enjoying a romantic evening in detention together, after the eldest Black brother gleefully volunteered him and his boyfriend to take the fall for the other Marauders. Their sacrifice meant Peter and James escaped the caretaker’s pursuit, allowing them to finish setting loose a hoard of toads, mice, birds, and other small wildlife throughout the castle (liberated from the Charms and Transfiguration storage closets, a prank that was perhaps inspired by Regulus’s speech regarding the ethical and moral implications of housing living creatures solely for the purpose of allowing children to ‘brutishly poke them with their wands in a farce attempt at magic’). Thankfully, the Ancient Runes teacher had been on patrol that night and apparently didn’t care to think too deeply about why two sixth-year boys in the same house would be frisking each other in an alcove on the third floor, rather than behind the safety of their bed curtains in their shared dormitory.
Regulus makes a beeline for the bigger of the two couches that the Marauders stuffed into their dorm room in third year. They’d been in the middle of a hectic Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson when out of nowhere, Sirius pitched the idea of turning the extra space where a fifth bed would be into a lounge area of sorts (in James’s experience, all of his best mate’s greatest ideas were crafted during random and/or inopportune times). The plush couch and matching loveseat were ‘donated’ to them by Sirius’s Uncle Alphard, who just so happened to be in need of ridding himself of some ‘old and outdated’ furniture less than a month after his nephew proposed the lounge area idea to his friends.
Leaning against the closed door, James gazes straight ahead to avoid letting his eyes wander to the right side of the room. Immediately after walking in, Regulus dropped his bookbag, shucked his robe off, and then threw himself face down onto the couch with a groan. That's fine and dandy, he's delighted the younger teen feels at home here, but the problem stems from how the form-fitting trousers Regulus is wearing accentuate his insanely pert backside, you’re being a creep, Potter, stop stop stop. But it’s hard not to stare, because the Slytherin is also wearing the jumper James bought him for his birthday. He spent hours dragging Peter around on their last Hogsmeade weekend before summer break in search of the perfect gift for Regulus, and to see him wearing it makes James want to scream and cry at the same time.
“Sorry about him,” he mutters, picking up Regulus’s bag and hanging it on the rack Sirius added to their room in first year, having no desire to listen to the eldest Black brother shrieking about things not being in their proper places. “McLaggen was probably born a git, but he’s been even worse since Siri snogged his sister, Maya, on a dare in fourth year. Thinks that makes them friends or something! Before Padfoot came out, McLaggen used to drop heavy hints that he should date Maya, which of course earned him Remus’s forever hatred… but we all adore Maya, it’s not her fault her brother’s a wanker, you know? Crazy to think those two are related, they don’t even look alike!”
James flutters around the room, tidying up his nightstand, and then Peter’s, before moving to reorganize the shoe rack exactly the way Sirius prefers it (one of the many additions added to their room over the years by a certain someone, with the goal of making it more ‘homey’). “But I understand now why the girls always say he’s smarmy, I mean, seriously, what the fuck was that about, who says something like that? Worse, he’s a Prefect! If we weren’t sneaking you in here, I’d totally file a complaint with Minnie, I shudder to think how he behaves around -”
James cuts himself off with a grimace, having finally realized he was rambling, fuck, why can you never play it cool? He’s going to think you’re so fucking annoying, which you are, but you don’t need to advertise it so plainly!
Nearly an adult now, James is usually able to hide how energetic and ‘bouncy’ he is, something he struggled to keep under wraps as a kid. At Hogwarts, he's beyond grateful to have found three mates who accept his full annoying self in all its glory, but outside the confines of their room, he is well aware that most people find such excessive energy intolerable. Genuinely, he has no idea how he’s ‘popular’, it’s because hardly anyone knows the ‘real’ you, definitely thinks it has a lot to do with Sirius; his best mate’s ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck-what-any-of-these-peasants-think-about-me’ attitude and overall confidence is contagious. It’s much easier to pretend like he isn’t dying on the inside for external validation when he has Sirius’s (usually loud) support at his side, along with Remus and Peter backing him up.
Except, it’s not just extra energy, is it? a snide voice in the back of his head reminds him. You’re too much in every aspect, isn’t that one of the many, completely valid reasons why Lily couldn’t stand the thought of dating you? You’re obsessive and weird, you never know when to put a cork in it... you’re just fucking exhausting to be around. Regulus definitely despised all of those origami creations you made for him over the summer, he’s just too polite to say anything, or worse, afraid you’ll kick him out of your house if he told you the truth. He’s probably cursing his entire existence right now for getting stuck with you for hours.
Ashamed, James goes back to quietly rearranging, Moony’s shoes on the top left quadrant, his own on the top right -
“Excusez-moi?” Regulus snaps from across the room. “Potter, do not heed my brother’s example of leaving sentences and stories unfinished, I literally cannot begin to explain how irritating that is.”
Glancing up, he finds that Regulus has dragged himself into a seated position, his piercing gaze focused solely on James. “Sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear all that.” Feeling his ears burning, he resists the urge to cover them. “I know sometimes I can be… too much.”
A beat of silence passes, and then another.
“Bollocks.” Then, a sound that can only be described as hiss emits from the younger boy. “My brother is not among those who perpetuate such fallacies, surely?” Trying to think of how to respond without outright lying, he unintentionally stays quiet for too long. “Oh, that hypocritical swine! How dare… that is bloody rich coming from his dramatic arse, legitimately the most extra person on this planet -”
James rushes to the defense of his best friend. “Siri has only ever said it during morning Quidditch practices, at like 5:30am, and I know your brother is a morning person in your eyes, but he’s not really -”
Regulus peers scrutinizingly at him. “Existence is ‘too much’ at that forsaken hour, so I suppose I can forgive his rudeness.” Never has James been so pleased to have someone roll their eyes at him!
“I do believe that was one of his points, actually,” the Gryffindor snorts, well accustomed to his best mate’s rants about the indecency of waking up before the sun rises.
“But Potter… James… to be clear, you’re not too much.” Regulus has only ever called him by his first name a handful of times, predominantly over this past summer when James’s parents were around. And every single time he did, exactly like now, his heart does a happy little dance in his chest. “That’s codswallop, I’ve never heard anything further from the truth!”
Fussing with the laces on his trainers to give his hands something to do, James mutters, “Respectfully, Reg, you really don’t know the half of it. They might be rude, but they’re not wrong.”
“Do you think I’m too much?” the younger boy asks out of nowhere, his tone neutral, giving nothing away about his true thoughts.
“What?” Regulus is perfect, he could never be ‘too much’, it’s simply unfathomable. “No, of course not!”
The Slytherin’s lips lift up at the corners. “Then, you’re an idiot.”
“Oi!”
“When I was six, we were in Australia with our grandparents. One evening, my brother ‘gifted’ me this cool rock he found while out and about with Grandfather,” Regulus explains with a nostalgic smile, shifting to sit crossed-legged on the couch, his bare feet tucked into the backs of his knees. “I was enchanted by its beauty and fascinated with its wondrous history, both its true origins and the story my brother concocted about it. From then on, I became an avid collector.” His smile falters, and James braces himself for another reminder of how despicable the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black is. “Right around my eighth birthday, my parents threw out my sizable collection, at least what they could find, and forbade me from rebuilding it.”
“That’s… that’s horrid, Reg!” James cries in outrage, hating that his instincts were spot on. “I’m so fucking sorry they did that to you, they’re awful, and you deserve so much better.”
Regulus purses his lips and then half-shrugs. “Mmm… you see, they weren’t being unwarrantedly cruel. My collection was all I talked about, it was the only thing I cared about. In the months prior to their ruling, my brother and I fought constantly. He hated that I would only spend time with him if my collection was involved in some form,” oof, yeah, James can picture how that would become an issue… it’s also kinda funny to imagine young-Sirius growing resentful of a bunch of rocks, “and I hated that he didn’t care about something so important to me. Looking back, I can admit my parents weren’t in the wrong. Merlin, they even warned me, multiple times, to stop being so outwardly obsessive about it!”
“That’s still shitty of them, Reg.” There aren’t enough words in the dictionary to describe how elated James is that neither of the Black brothers have to deal with those wretched people anymore… they aren’t worthy of being called ‘parents’. “I’ll help you regrow your collection, ten times bigger than it was originally.”
The Slytherin smirks. “My brother would despise you.”
“Nah, he wouldn’t.”
“Actually, Potter, he really, really would.” Aw, back to Potter again, that’s a shame. “But moving on, when I was ten, I heard a song by Dancing in Elysium at our cousins’ house… for the next year, that band became my entire personality.”
James’s mouth drops open in surprise. “You’re a DiE fanboy?” He never would have guessed Regulus was into that type of music.
Wait wait wait!
Is that why Sirius vehemently hates the wizarding-rock group that seemingly all of Hogwarts worships, including the girls in their year, Peter, and Remus?! James loathes them on principle because he’s loyal, but if Regulus is a massive fan, that puts him in a bit of a pickle… unless he stopped liking them for some reason?
“I am the DiE fanboy,” Regulus sniffs pretentiously, dashing James’s hopes. “Just quieter about it.”
He smiles, hopefully convincingly, as he says, “I love them, they’re fantastic.”
“Obviously they are, I have taste. But ooh, do you remember that vampire mystery series I offhandedly mentioned to you last year?” The Gryffndor nods, immensely relieved that Regulus opts not to test his knowledge. He can list two DiE songs off the top of his head, and maybe four total upon pain of death… and he knows exactly zero of the band members’ names. “I read all five books literally ten times each over a month-long period.”
“We all know you’re a swot, how’s that a big secret?” James barely manages to catch the throw pillow in time before it smacks him in the face. “It’s true!”
“I also owl’d what amounted to a twelve-foot essay to the author detailing my thoughts on the series, and when she wrote back a lengthy, considerate response, I framed it and put it on my nightstand. Then, I got the chance to meet her at Flourish and Blotts in what was thankfully a private meet and greet, and I burst into tears when she said she remembered my letter... I was so inconsolable, the staff had to usher me into a side room to compose myself. Thankfully, Andromeda was prepared and had a Calming Draught on hand, so once Sirius smoothed my hair back into place and Narcissa glamoured away the visible proof of my breakdown, I was able to return for the photo-op.” He lifts his nose in the air. "That signed picture is also displayed on my nightstand."
Well, that’s… wow. James doesn’t really know what to say besides, fuck, that's so cute, which Regulus likely wouldn't appreciate, so he channels his inner-Remus. “The series was really good, so your devotion is understandable. I’m sure the author really appreciated you showing your love and support on something she clearly worked very hard on.” He quickly reverts back to himself. “Hold up, didn’t you tell me you weren’t the obsessive type, though? No judgment, of course, but I distinctly remember you saying that.”
A splash of pink blossoms across the Slytherin’s cheeks. “I lied... anyways, my point is that whoever says such nonsensical drivel to you is purely jealous because they are not enough.”
He appreciates what Regulus is trying to do, of course he does, but for more than a decade and a half, James has heard the same thing again and again, ‘Can you relax, Potter, blimey, you’re annoying’, ‘Why are you so bloody cheerful at this hour?’ ‘How are you so loud, ALL the time?’ ‘Can you shut up already?’ ‘Chill out, would you?’ ‘Sweet Merlin, being around you really gives me a headache’ ‘You talk too much, has anyone ever told you that?’ ‘You’re weird, Potter, I’m not sure why people like you’ ‘If you were less obsessive, maybe she’d give you the time of day’.
“This is Uncle Alphie’s old couch, yeah?” Regulus suddenly asks, startling James from his musings. Without waiting for a response, he removes one of the cushions from the loveseat and sticks his hand down the side, a look of deep concentration on his face. “Ah-ha!” He holds his hand up triumphantly. “Here, catch.”
James nearly drops it, but after some fumbling, he peers curiously down at the small, black glassy-rock in his hand.
“It’s a Tektite, or more specifically, an Australite,” the Slytherin explains, his eyes lighting up, “since this one was found in Australia. Basically, when a meteorite hits the Earth, sediment and rock are often melted and ejected into the air. As this melted rock falls, it quickly cools and forms into a glassy rock called a tektite. When my parents initially threatened to throw my collection out, I started hiding some of the important or rarer ones in places they’d never find. This was the first one in my collection, the rock that started it all, so to speak.”
“It’s neat,” James says truthfully. “I’m glad you were able to save this one.” He hands it directly to the Slytherin, confused when Regulus pushes it back towards him.
“You keep it.”
“I couldn’t… let it be the start of your new collection, again.”
Shaking his head, Regulus flops back onto the couch with his arms crossed. “Find me a new rock, Potter. This one is yours, a reminder for whenever you think you’re ‘too much’ that it could always be worse.”
“I don’t think you’re -”
“Oh, I don’t mean me,” the younger teen smirks. “Did you, or did you not, attend my brother's ‘Summertime Jam Sessions’ in your family’s gardens?”
Chuckling at the memory of how quirky his best mate is, Merlin, my life would be so much easier if I was as confident as Sirius, James transfigures the random button on his nightstand, the one he’s yet to figure out what clothing article it came off of, into a small glass display case.
“We should get back to studying,” he says after seeing the time on his watch. Merlin, how has it already gotten so late? Sirius and Remus should be back within the next hour.
“Ah.” Regulus’s face falls. “Yeah, suppose we should…” He tries to hide the action behind a curtain of black hair, but James catches him digging his knuckles into his temple.
It’s a vivid reminder as to why they came upstairs in the first place.
“Your head still hurts?”
“I’m fine, Potter -”
“Is that so?” James asks skeptically.
Regulus forces a smile. “I mean… I’ve certainly felt worse.”
“Let me help then.”
“No no, don’t worry about lil ole me -”
Sweet Merlin, it’s like Martyr Remus 2.0!
“Come here, Reg.” Using the armrest to support his lower back, James sits on the opposite end of the couch and pats the cushion in front of him. “Can’t have you hurting, especially when I can do something to fix it.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”
He clearly doesn’t want to be any closer to you than he has to be.
“It’s not -” Why are you pressuring him? Stop, he said no! “Alright.”
“I mean… “ Regulus scoots one cushion over, then puts his back to the Gryffindor. “Since you insist.”
“No, it’s alright.” He gently pats the younger teen on the shoulder. “I didn’t mean to disrespect your boundaries, Reg.”
“You didn’t… I was just -”
Aiming for a dismissive laugh, James winces at how fake it sounds, even to his own ears. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Regulus, honest. I shouldn’t have pushed it. No means no, that’s what Lily always says.”
“Well, yes, but sometimes -”
“And she’s right.”
“She is, but -”
“‘No’ is a full sentence,” James parrots faithfully.
“And it’s usually one of my favorites, however -”
“Let me grab those flashcards from my bag -”
“Potter -”
“Plenty of time remaining before your exam to do a practice brew, too!”
“Potter -”
“Of course, I understand if you’d prefer to let your brother help you.” Riffling through his bag, he frowns when he doesn’t find the flashcards. “Our practical scores are pretty much the same,” he dumps the contents out onto the ground, “but Slughorn always says Sirius is a natural, and as much as I want to scream favoritism,” they aren’t there, what the fuck, “he is pretty intuitive.” James tosses everything back in, making a mental note to sort through it later. “Personally, I prefer to follow a recipe.” He rehangs the book bag onto the rack. “What’s the point of having one if we’re just going to go all willy-nilly and do whatever we want?” An image of the cards sitting on the table suddenly enters his mind. Fuck, he left them in the Common Room, didn’t he? “Hey, I think I left those flashcards downstairs,” he turns around, “so, I’m -”
“CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR A SINGLE FUCKING SECOND, JAMES POTTER?!” The Gryffindor flinches backwards, equally as startled by the loud noise as he is by finding Regulus’s wand pointed directly at his face. Blimey, James didn't even hear him get up! Granted, with all that inane prattling he was doing, a flock of hippogriffs could have flown through the window, and he'd be none the wiser. “IF SO, THEN I WOULD BE ABLE TO TELL YOU THAT I HAVE NO INTEREST IN CONTINUING TO STUDY TONIGHT!”
“Oh.” Only a matter of time before he finally realized the truth, yeah? “Right, sorry.” That truth being how inexplicably cumbersome it is to be around you. Regulus sheathes his wand, but his vexed expression doesn’t falter. “I’ll um… I’ll stop talking now.”
“Thank Merlin and Morgana for small miracles!” James wants the floor to swallow him up when the Slytherin storms away. “You should keep better track of your belongings, Potter.” A deck of familiar-looking index cards is slammed onto his nightstand, pulled from the pocket of Regulus’s robes.
“Sorry.” Godric, can you ever do anything right? “And thank you.” You’re such an idiot.
Somehow, he resists the urge to cower when the peeved Slytherin strides back across the room, coming to a stop right in front of him. “You’re welcome.” The polite response is marred when Regulus fists the fabric of James’s robes and yanks him closer. “Now, are you ready to listen?”
“Uh…”
(His brain has never coped well with having Regulus so close.)
“James.”
(Not because he’s afraid…)
“Yes! Sorry, yes, James is… I am listening.”
(Okay, he’s a little afraid.)
“Listen closely, now.”
(But Regulus is so unbelievably beautiful.)
“Very close.” He swallows roughly, trying to control his breathing. “I am listening very closely.”
(It fries his brain.)
Regulus inclines his head approvingly. “First. You did not disrespect my boundaries. I was trying to play coy. Understand?”
James blinks, should I lie, or… no, he’ll know, he’s always been able to call you on your shite. “Not really.”
“Fuck, okay uh...” Regulus absentmindedly chews on his bottom lip. James find this very distracting. “Guess there’s nothing for it.” He heaves a sigh. “I like it when you give me headache massages. A lot. But I also feel bad about -”
“Don’t feel bad!” James hastily interjects, cringing when he realizes he interrupted. Again. “Sorry, but just… I like helping, I promise. If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Regulus huffs. “You aren’t helping, though -”
“Oh.” Can’t even do that right… not really shocking, though, is it? You never contribute anything useful, it's a miracle the others keep you around! “I see.”
“No, you don’t see!” Regulus throws his hands in the air. “James, you aren’t helping -”
“Yes, you’ve said that already.”
“YOU AREN’T HELPING BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE A HEADACHE… THERE’S NOTHING TO CURE!”
“... what?”
Regulus starts manically pacing in front of him. “I AM A LIAR, POTTER, A FRAUD. I had a headache that first time, yes, but since then, maybe one or two at most, and that’s pushing it.”
“I don’t understand?” Even that annoying voice in the back of his head is too bewildered to speak. “Why would you lie?”
“I don’t know, I guess…” James has a sneaking suspicion that Regulus's flushed skin is not from the sudden exercise he’s getting with his fast-paced walking, “it’s relaxing, and truthfully, my brother has always said I’m a very tense person, which is something my cousins adamantly agree with him on, and let me tell you, Potter, they never agree on anything, and I’ve actually been sleeping a lot better since you started this, which is crazy when you consider how many different cures for insomnia I’ve tried over the years,” slender hands wave wildly in the air as he talks, “so, I suppose it’s unfair to say you haven’t been helping me, but I feel guilty, because I’ve done nothing except take advantage of your generosity for weeks, and then I feel even guiltier because I had no intentions of stopping, I was just trying to be cute about it to soothe my conscience.”
On the verge of becoming dizzy from watching Regulus walk back and forth so many times, James takes a risk - he moves directly into the Slytherin’s path… and then grabs Regulus by the shoulders when he tries to side-step around him.
“Whatever your reasoning, I don’t care,” the Gryffindor says firmly, dropping his hands back down once he’s positive he has the younger boy’s attention. “I like doing it. I know you think I’m some self-sacrificing idiot, but I’m not. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to.”
“You, James Potter, are very much a self-sacrificing idiot!” He raises his voice over James’s protests. “Remember that pick-up game over the weekend where you took a Bludger for Wylan, who wasn’t even on your team?! If you hadn’t raised your arm in time...” Regulus trails off with a glower.
In all truthfulness, James would have happily let some random kid get rocked by a Bludger, even if it was one of his own teammates (unless they were going to get hit in the face/head area). But the kid wasn’t random, it was Regulus’s pipsqueak protégé Wylan Honeywood, a halfblood Slytherin second-year who worships the ground his older housemate walks on. And Regulus grew up with Sirius as his example for how to be a role model/older brother figure… the youngest Black wasn’t as overbearing as his sibling, but he definitely fusses/frets/worries about the runt to an excessive degree.
James’s mouth opens and closes several times while he attempts to formulate a rebuttal that isn’t, ‘I didn’t want him to get hurt because he’s important to you, and you’re important to me’.
“He’s just a kid, Reg! And he’s tiny, even for his age. Better for me to -”
“He is a starting player on a house Quidditch team!” Gorgeous gray eyes flash with righteous indignation. “A spot he earned, I assure you.” The kid is talented, that’s obvious, but James is positive the intense training regimen Regulus has been putting him through since last term played a major impact on him beating out his older peers. “And fine, he hasn’t played a real match yet, but in Slytherin, we do not coddle our younger players Captain Potter.”
Oh, that’s… Captain Potter, blimey. He somehow manages to suppress a shiver. “We don’t -”
“Did you even realize I was the one who hit the Bludger at him?” Oof, no he did not… James actively avoids looking at Regulus when they’re playing Quidditch, regardless of whether it’s a pick up game or real match… talk about a dangerous distraction! “Which is a more preferable way to remind a younger player to pay better attention to their surroundings?... striking them with a Bludger hit by a Seeker, who used extensively less force than he could have during a pickup match, or letting him get whacked during a real match with a Bludger hit by a seasoned Beater who used their full strength?!”
That was ‘extensively less force’?! That fucking Bludger shattered so many bones in James’s arm, Madame Pomfrey wanted him to stay overnight in the Hospital Wing for observation! (he declined, of course, but made the trek to the ward the next morning for a checkup). Sirius, one of the best Beaters Hogwarts has seen in decades, has gotten him good a few times during practice, but James still broke less bones.
“Fair, however, my point still stands. I chose to do that, no one made me, and I certainly didn’t feel pressured into it.” He mentally applauds himself for maintaining eye contact in spite of the overwhelming urge to look literally anywhere else. “So, are you going to let me,” he wiggles his fingers in the Slytherin’s face, “or do you want to keep arguing?”
“Both.”
James laughs, but then suddenly remembers what started this discussion in the first place. “Oh, wait, you had at least one other point to make, didn’t you?”
“Did I? Can’t recall,” Regulus hums, absentmindedly twirling a curl around his finger.
That’s a lie if he’s ever heard one, good Godric. “Earlier, you said ‘first’, which indicates there’s at least a ‘second’ to follow.”
“An astute observation, Potter, I’m impressed.”
He sounds sincere too, which makes James grin against his will. “If you swear you legitimately don’t remember what you were going to say, I’ll drop it, Reg. But you can tell me anything, you know that, right?”
James nearly coos at Regulus’s baleful glare. “My second point, Potter, is that I find your lack of manners to be utterly appalling!”
“Uhh… could you give an example?”
“Gladly.” The Slytherin juts his chin out, looking like the proud, haughty Pureblood-wizard his parents raised him to be. “You snogged me once in the library weeks ago, and when I politely requested you do it again, you said something akin to, ‘for you, always’” that was exactly what James said, “before my brother interrupted. And yet, you have done no such thing! I was led to believe Gryffindors always kept their word, but is that not so?”
“In my defense, we haven’t really had a moment alone since then,” James unthinkingly points out. “Unless you wanted me to snog you in front of your brother?” Which would have undoubtedly resulted in his untimely death.
Regulus scrunches his nose. “You could have made an effort to find one.”
“As could you!” That’s really not the direction he wants to take this conversation in. “You… you actually want me to snog you again?”
“Well…” Regulus ducks his head. “Not if you’re going to make me feel bad about it, sheesh.”
Feeling like he might burst from giddiness, the Gryffindor slowly steps closer. “That was never my intention, darling.” He tilts Regulus’s chin up. “I’d be honored to kiss you again.” Stoked, thrilled, overjoyed, euphoric, would-have-sold-my-soul-for-one-more-kiss.
“Yeah?” James didn’t know it was possible for one word to hold such an undeniable challenge… "Prove it."
Ever since James’s first proper snog at the age of thirteen, when he volunteered to help Sirius during his sexuality crisis (it was more along the lines of, ‘Am I attracted to any bloke who’s easy on the eyes and treats me well, or am I head over heels for Remus specifically?’), he has always been happy to snog anyone who wants to snog him. Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter, James just loves snogging.
But snogging Regulus Black is so much better than anyone else he’s ever snogged. What the younger teen lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm, and Merlin, those breathy little moans will kill me long before Sirius gets the chance. And the way he presses so close to James, like he’s trying to mold them into one entity, not an inch of space between them… James almost whines when Regulus breaks the kiss. The Slytherin’s chest heaves up and down as he tries to level his breathing, his lips already a more vibrant red than usual. He’s about to move away to give him some space, but Regulus loops an arm around his waist.
“Did you know that snogging is actually a cure for headaches?” the younger teen murmurs shakily. “Because it dilates your blood vessels, resulting in a naturally pain-reducing effect.”
Like an absolute fucking dunce, James muses aloud, “Huh, maybe that’s why I have less headaches than the other lads.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he wants to kick himself, a desire that strengthens tenfold when the Slytherin's expression closes off. “Right.” Now, Regulus is the one trying to step back, but in a panic, James crushes their mouths together with a horrifying lack of finesse. “Ow, Potter, watch it!” He quickly pulls away, his face scrunched up in discomfort… either from James’s glasses smushing into his skin, or from the way their teeth clacked together, and really, this has gotta be one of the Top Five Most Mortifying Moments of James’s life.
“Sorry! Merlin, Reg, are you alright?”
Through narrowed eyes, Regulus stares at him for nearly a minute, his expression unreadable; James almost cries with relief when he huffs out a laugh. “Think I’ll live, but I’ll be most cross if you don’t make it up to me.”
“Anything you want, it’s yours.”
Regulus lightly smacks him upside the head. “Words have meaning you dolt, and you oughta take greater care in how you use them.” James would argue that he trusts Regulus implicitly, but then he’s being led to his own bed, and Regulus is pushing him down, and then climbing onto his lap, and James loses all train of thought when their lips connect again.
He doesn’t know how much time passes before a loud, raucous commotion has them breaking apart, like someone stupidly set fireworks off in the Common Room (something James and Sirius haven’t done since Lily threatened to hex their bollocks off last year when they interrupted her studying for their upcoming Charm O.W.L.).
“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE PLAYING AT, MCLAGGEN?!” comes Sirius’s undeniable voice on the other side of the door, igniting a flurry of movement as Regulus and James rush to right themselves.
At any other time, he would probably die laughing at the uncharacteristic lack of grace Regulus exhibits when he scrambles off James’s lap, but one, his imminent death is rapidly approaching, and two, the Slytherin accidentally knees him in a very uncomfortable place.
“Sorry!” Regulus croaks, kissing James's cheek in apology. “Glasses!”
“YOU ALMOST HIT ME WITH THAT, YOU FUCKING WANKER!” The door creaks open, but no one enters yet, thank Merlin. “NO, REM, I WILL NOT CALM DOWN, HE COULD HAVE SET MY HAIR ON FIRE!”
James accidentally knocks the flashcards onto the ground in the frantic search for his glasses. “Stop moving you blind git, here, let me.” Despite the anxiety of the situation, Regulus is careful when he slides James’s glasses onto his face… which then gives him a perfect view of the hickey he left on the Slytherin and fuck, he is so dead.
“I’m so sorry, please don’t kill me.” He adjusts Regulus’s jumper in an attempt to cover it, not trusting himself to attempt to magic it away, not when he sucks at healing spells, and his emotions are all over the place. When that proves ineffective, he frees the younger teen’s hair from the bun he had just put it into.
“Really, James?!” Regulus hisses, holding a hand over his neck. “Bloody hell…” With a swish of his wand, the flashcards fly into James’s hand and arrange themselves into a neat pile.
“YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR BACK… YES, I AM THREATENING YOU, MCLAGGEN, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?!”
The door slams closed. “He could definitely do something about it!” Remus admonishes, finally succeeding in shoving Sirius into the room.
“I am not scared of him -”
“And if he decides to report Regulus for being in our Common Room?” Glancing over his boyfriend’s shoulder, Remus catches James’s gaze… then, he lifts a hand to rub his neck, green eyes widened ever-so-slightly. Taking the hint, James grabs his wand, silently praying that Sirius stays distracted long enough. “Which I remind you, is very much against the rules!”
Sirius is great at healing charms, his treacherous brain reminds him. Only… maybe it’s onto something.
Fortunately, his best mate raises his voice loud enough where James feels safe enough to forgo using nonverbal magic, and conjures a mirror out of thin air. “FUCK THE RULES, AND FUCK MCLAGGEN!” He holds it up for Regulus.
“I’d rather not,” Remus responds matter-of-factly. “And I’d rather you not.”
Sirius ignores him, probably doesn’t even hear him, already well into his rant. “Oh, I fucking dare him to, Rem.” James gestures repeatedly at his own neck when the Slytherin doesn’t move, too busy watching his brother with rapt attention. “I promise you, anyone who comes for Reggie will earn the fullest extent of my wrath, absolutely nobody messes with my little brother and survives to tell the tale. My parents are lucky they’re holed up behind the walls of Grimmauld Place… if I catch them out in public, it’s on.”
James and Regulus both wince, although probably for different reasons.
“Not without backup.”
“I’m not -”
Remus yanks his seething boyfriend closer. “Not without backup, Sirius Orion Black the third, do you understand me? You are not to engage your parents in any sort of duel, verbal or magical, without either myself or James directly beside you.”
“O-okay…”
Internally, James rolls his eyes. His best mate likes to play the aloof, tough bad boy, but he is so whipped for his sweater-wearing, book-loving, coffee-connoisseur werewolf-boyfriend.
“Swear it.”
Wand resting on his neck, directly centered on the hickey, Regulus closes his eyes in concentration; when James risks a glance, he almost cries when he’s met with pale, unblemished skin.
“And what about me?” Regulus snaps once James vanishes the mirror. “Do I not count as suitable backup?”
Whipping around, Sirius’s face lights up. “Reggie!” Bounding across the room, he unceremoniously flings himself onto James’s bed and wiggles his way in between them. “My darlings, I missed you!” He kisses each of their cheeks with a loud ‘mwah’.
“Get your shoes off my bed, you wanker!” Rescuing the flashcards from under his friend, he smirks when Sirius shrieks about ‘bad touches’ - his best mate is incredibly ticklish, something James has no qualms about exploiting.
Without waiting for his boyfriend to whine for his help, Remus tugs Sirius’s obnoxiously expensive boots off his feet and then sits at the edge of the bed, his own shoes firmly on the ground.
“Thank you, my love,” Sirius sing-songs, readjusting so he’s sitting like them, his back resting against the headboard. Regulus subtly catches James’s gaze, who rolls his eyes in response… and then yelps when his best mate pinches his thigh. “How’s studying? Are you a Potions Master yet? James is the best of the best, would be top of the class if he was willing to suck Sluggy off like Snape does.”
Regulus smacks his brother’s arm. “You are tacky, and I hate you. Also, no one answered my question, which I do not appreciate.”
“You don’t count as backup, Regulus, because Mummy dearest would hurt you to get to me. So, you will be staying far away from her, and I will not tolerate any arguments on this matter, please and thank you.”
The Slytherin’s eyes narrow. “She would hurt you to get to me.”
“Which is why you’ll be staying far away from her!” Sirius snaps. “Now stop arguing with me!”
Obviously, Regulus continues to argue. “Thus, it would make sense that you should stay away from her, too!”
“How about we all stay away from her?” James loudly interrupts. “And your pops too, for good measure.” He holds his hands up defensively when he’s met with two very angry glares.
Without explanation, Sirius’s expression morphs from ‘annoyed’ to ‘outraged’, fuck fuck fuck, do I have a hickey too?!
“WHAT IS THAT?!”
Wringing his hands together, James squeaks, “I can explain!” Which is a lie, because he cannot explain, oh Merlin, this is it, this is the end.
“REGULUS ARCTURUS, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!”
Sweet, sweet Regulus is so much braver than James. And smarter.
Meeting his brother’s eyes, he deadpans, “The meaning of what, precisely?”
Discreetly hiding his clammy palms under his thighs, the Chaser waits with bated breath for what his best friend will say.
They don’t have to wait long, bless. “Rock collecting is banned -”
Oh, how James nearly weeps with relief!
Fuck, even Remus’s shoulders relax.
“Those were Mother’s rules,” the youngest Black hotly retorts. “And you said anything we did at Grimmauld Place, we should henceforth do the opposite. Did you lie, brother?”
Sirius clenches his jaw so hard, James can hear his teeth grinding together. “No,” he growls, still glaring at his sibling. “I did not.”
“It’s just a gift, one of a kind, Pads, I promise.”
“That’s how it starts!”
Taking a risk, James squishes Sirius’s cheeks together. “Unclench, mate, before you chip a tooth.” Exhaling in a puff, his friend does as he’s told. “Good boy.” He laughs when Sirius nips at his hand. “Wanna help quiz Reg?”
“No.” Dramatically covering his face with his arm, Regulus whines, “Don’t wanna!”
“Headache?” Sirius asks worriedly, brushing his brother’s curls off his forehead.
After a few beats of silence, the Slytherin huffs, “No… pet my hair, though?” He adjusts his arm so he can peek at his brother with wide, innocent eyes. Who could ever say no to that?! “Pretty please?”
James feels a twinge of envy when Sirius presses a kiss to the younger boy’s forehead - he wants to smooch Regulus, too... and not be murdered for it!
“I doubt Jamie wants you falling asleep in his bed.” Er, it’s not that James would be opposed… “Let’s have a sleepover, Reggie! I’ve missed you since we got back to Hogwarts. You can borrow some of my clothes, and I’m sure we have a spare toothbrush -”
“And you’ll pet my hair?”
Sirius rolls his eyes, but still says, “Yes, until you fall asleep, little star.”
The Slytherin beams, but doesn’t move. “Fantastic. I’ll be here for the next thirty minutes while you get ready. Potter promised to tell me the story about your latest prank, I’m sure it’ll be a thrilling tale.” Uhh... he did? And does Regulus really need to use so much sarcasm?!
“You should add an extra thirty minutes to that amount,” Remus snorts, fondly patting his boyfriend’s leg.
Sirius playfully kicks him. “Nah, he’s got it right, cuz it takes him thirty minutes to get ready for bed.”
“Oh Merlin,” Remus looks pityingly at James. “How did you survive living with two of them?”
“Separate loos,” the Chaser answers honestly.
After some back-and-forth bantering, Sirius prances off to begin his excessive beauty routine, while Remus heads back into the Common Room to talk with Lily about some Arithmancy group project.
Regulus quietly closes half of the bed curtains, then turns to face James with a finger lifted to his lips. Nodding, although he’s not entirely sure what’s going on, he grins stupidly when the Slytherin crawls back into his lap and captures his own lips in a heated kiss.
“I should leave a mark on you this time,” Regulus whispers huskily into his ear. “See how you like it.”
You already have, James thinks to himself, right on my soul, with all the other important people in my life.
But that is MASSIVELY lame, so instead, he says, “I’m pants at healing magic.”
The Slytherin leans back, startling James with the intensity of his gaze. “Good.”
Sauntering away with a self-satisfied grin twenty minutes later, Regulus leaves several marks spattered across James's tanned skin.
Dazedly rubbing one of the love bites, all in easily coverable places, thank Merlin, the Gryffindor wonders what exactly he’s gotten himself into.
But when Regulus exits the loo mid-laugh sometime later, his brother’s arm slung around his shoulders and both of their faces glowing from a mixture of happiness and disgustingly expensive skincare products, he realizes he doesn’t give a flying fuck. When two pairs of gray eyes land on him, their pale, delicate hands reaching for his, the posh gits, the brothers prattling on about how it’s his turn for a ‘proper beauty makeover’, James lets them tug him out of bed without fuss, even keeps quiet when he learns that beauty is excruciating. James would endure a whole lot worse than having some potion ‘burning the gunk’ out of his pores if it makes Regulus and Sirius this happy.
Two boys named for the stars, who endured a terrible childhood but came out on the other side as incredibly beautiful people, inside and out, James loves them with his heart, soul, and every ounce of magic running through his veins.