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“Oh, fuck no.”
When Sirius dragged Regulus out of the comfort of his dorm room and into the chaos of a house party, Regulus figured he could try to enjoy himself. The music is loud, but not overtly so, and the space is not crowded enough for it to get overwhelming. His friends are here, too, and though Evan and Barty are MIA –probably shagging somewhere in the house—, Dorcas is flirting with McKinnon over a heated game of beer pong, and Pandora is busy dancing the night away with countless strabgers, Regulus knows knows he can approach them anytime if his brother and his friends ever get too much. He's done it a couple of times already.
All in all, the party isn't too bad. The guy who's organized it, an Asian bloke who looks like he came straight from an American frat, is famously known for throwing parties. They get messy. Chaotic. Regulus has been here for less than an hour and people are already drunk off their arses. Regulus, sitting on one of the sofas between Peter and James, is having an amazing time people watching.
Until he sees his ex on the dance floor. With the girl he cheated with.
Sirius, who's always had a freakish sixth sense for detecting drama, follows Regulus' line of sight and spots him within seconds. He gasps, spine immediately ramrod straight, and tightens his grip on the arm Remus has around his waist. “That bitch.”
Remus props his chin on Sirius' shoulder to get a better view. After a moment, his gaze locks on the couple. Unlike Sirius, who's throwing daggers at Regulus' ex, his eyes are focused on the girl. “Is that…?”
“Yeah.” Regulus answers. He doesn't need to hear the rest of the question.
“The nerve.” Peter, who's leaning so far forward that Regulus fears he's going to fall off the sofa, says.
“I'm going to punch him.” Sirius declares, attempting to get up from his place between his boyfriend's legs. Remus tugs on his waist and Sirius falls back down with a huff.
“Pads, you're not fighting anyone.” Remus says, with a tone that makes it clear that this is not a suggestion: It’s an order. Still, because he's never been one to do what he's told, Sirius tries to fight it.
“But he's–”
“No.”
"Moony–”
“No.” This time, the denial comes from Regulus' himself. Sirius turns to him, incredulous. Before he can make a rebuttal, Regulus pushes on. “If you punch him, he’ll think it bothers me.”
Sirius opens his mouth, no doubt to argue with him, but someone else beats him to the punch.
“Doesn’t it?”
If Regulus wasn't so attuned to James, he might have forgotten he's here until he speaks. Regulus turns to him, and his heart skips a beat when he notices how close their faces are. James' hazel eyes are intense, pinning him down behind golden, round shaped glasses. For only a second, Regulus gets lost admiring them. The way they still shine under the dim lights. The long lashes framing them. The shiver they send to his spine, which appears every time James looks at him. Regulus could exist forever under the weight of that stare.
“What?” He says, because he can't just stand there and look at him like an idiot.
“Doesn't it bother you?”
Regulus considers it. By all means, it should bother him. They might not have been dating for long, just a couple months, but they've been broken up for less than two weeks. He wasn't a bad boyfriend, not really, and Regulus liked him alright. It was a shock, to walk in on him going down on a girl, because cheating is a shit thing to do no matter the state of a relationship, and he didn't seem like the type to do it.
Regulus was offended, of course. He screamed at him, called him all sorts of names, and told him they were done. He couldn't believe he had the nerve to cheat on him, because Regulus is so far up his league that he should have been thanking his lucky stars that he even bothered to look at him. The guy is nothing special. He has a nice body, a moderately pretty face, and the blandest personality to ever exist.
So yes, Regulus was offended. But he wasn't upset.
In all honesty, he can understand why he did it. In hindsight, he should have expected it. For all that they weren't together for long, they sure had an impressive amount of fights. Regulus might be an asshole, but he's a self aware one. He knows the fights were his fault. He knows his ex had a right to feel hurt, to demand a change in his behaviour. But Regulus couldn't give him the one thing that he wanted. Anything else, he would have considered.
But not that.
So, he gave Regulus a taste of his own medicine. And Regulus wouldn't be bothered, because he never liked him enough to cry over him, if it wasn't for the way he looked at him when he caught them. I can do better than you, his eyes seemed to say, and I can make her want me.
It felt like losing.
And Regulus Black hates losing.
“Not like that.” Regulus finally says. He averts his eyes and focuses them on the dance floor, because all of a sudden, he can't look at James. “He thinks he's hot shit. He thinks he's winning the breakup. That's what bothers me.”
He doesn't need to see Sirius to feel the look he’s giving him. He can feel the judgement seeping into his pores. He knows Regulus is lying, if only partially. He let everyone think they broke up just because of the cheating, because it's easier that way, but Sirius knows the truth. He's known for a long time.
“So, prove him wrong.” Sirius says. Regulus hears the question hiding behind the words.
Do you have the balls?
“How?” He asks, and he knows Sirius hears the answer.
No, I don't.
Sirius scoffs, and Remus looks between them, considering them.
“Show him you’ve moved on.” Peter suggests, and he looks so interested in the drama that Regulus wonders if he wishes he had popcorn. “Choose a target, flirt with them. Maybe get a snog out of it.”
Regulus is about to dismiss the idea, because there's only one person there he’s interested in snogging, and he's not going to entertain him. But then, his ex looks at him. They make eye contact. His arms are circled around his partner, their bodies so close that not a particle could pass between them, and for just an instant, his eyes stray to James. He looks so fucking smug that Regulus wants to throttle him.
The thing is, he wasn't the only one who cheated. Regulus did too. Not physically, because he isn't that lucky, but emotionally. Regulus knew, when they got together, that he was just a distraction. A way to pass the time. And somewhere along the line, his ex caught on to it. He saw the lingering eyes, the hunger behind them. He noticed the way he wasn’t the one on Regulus' mind.
Because Regulus has been obsessed with James Potter for years.
So he asked for Regulus to stop seeing James. Regulus understands why he did it. He would have done the same, if he was in his position. But he would rather die than cut off James from his life, so he didn't. Instead, he denied everything. He denied having feelings for James, he denied that, if he ever thought he had a chance with James, he would have left him without a second thought.
For a time, he believed him. Until he couldn't anymore. That's why he cheated. And now, he's rubbing the fact that Regulus can't have James in his face.
I have her, he mouths, what do you have?
But Regulus isn't going to let him win.
He shifts his posture slightly, spreading his legs so that his thigh touches James'. He throws his arms over the backrest, one on Peter's shoulders, the other on James'. He puts the pad of his index to James' clavicle, and his thumb to his nape. Then, he smirks.
Absently, he registers that it works. He knows his ex goes rigid, and his jaw locks. He looks away, seething, and the girl he's dancing with frowns at him.
But Regulus doesn't pay attention to that. Because James has reacted to his touch, too. He sits up straight, his skin breaking into goosebumps. And Regulus thinks that maybe, just maybe, he does have a chance.
“Peter Pettigrew,” he says, almost breathless, “you're a genius.”
Peter laughs, but Sirius looks at him funny. Regulus locks eyes with him and grins, and Sirius takes in a sharp breath. “You're doing it?” he asks, and Regulus knows he's not talking about getting back at his ex.
“I'm doing it.” Sirius matches his grin.
Sirius has known about Regulus' feelings since the start. Even back then, when their relationship was still strained, Sirius was able to read Regulus like a book. Regulus sometimes wonders if it's a big brother superpower, or if that's just Sirius, but he doesn't much care either way. Most of the time it's a blessing, because Regulus isn’t the best at emoting and having someone that just gets him makes him feel cared for. Embraced, like a warm blanket on a cold December day. Other times, though, it quickly gets annoying.
Like the day Sirius found out about his feelings for James. He bitched and bemoaned and asked him no less than ten times why it had to be him. My best friend? Really, Reggie? Really? Regulus was tempted to pull a Cain and murder his brother, because it went on forever. It got better when Sirius deluded himself into thinking it was just a passing crush. He fully believed Regulus would get over it, and it would get buried in the anals of history.
But the months passed, blending into years, and Sirius had to accept it wasn't going away any time soon. It was a touchy subject for a long time, both of them evading it as if their lives depended on it, until one day, it changed. To this day, Regulus doesn't know what prompted it, but Sirius turned from being disgusted by the idea to supporting it fiercely. Regulus didn't question it. He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Secretly, Regulus suspects it has to do with Sirius getting tired of watching him pine helplessly after James, but. Well. He's never had enough courage to do something about it, not when he thought he would inevitably wind up rejected.
Now, with Sirius' excitement almost bubbling out of his skin, Peter cheering after him utterly oblivious, and alcohol emboldening him, he finds the courage.
He sneaks a quick glance at James, but he's resolutely not meeting his eye. It doesn't matter, though. He’ll make him look.
Regulus gets up from the sofa, with Sirius and Peter whooping loudly as if it was a footy game. Remus is failing to suppress a smile, and Regulus wonders if he knows. Knowing him, he probably does. Whether it's because of Sirius running his mouth or Remus picking up on it on his own, he doesn’t know, but he doesn't much care.
He takes his drink from the table and downs it in one go, because try as he might to deny it, he needs the liquid courage.
With that, he struts to the dance floor. He makes himself a spectacle. A sight to be seen. He doesn't dance much, or at least not at parties, because the mass of sweaty bodies is frankly disgusting. But that's not to say he doesn't know how to. He's been dancing since he was a child, courtesy of his dear mother, and though ballet is not fit for a party, it's made him aware of how to follow a rhythm, how to maneuver his body to make it look its best.
He can see a few eyes straying to him, drinking him in, but no one has made a move to approach him. He's aware he comes off as intimidating. He knows he's attractive, because beauty is the only good thing his parents ever gave him, but he’s also mean looking. He's been told he has a resting bitch face, that he looks like he's glaring at everyone even if he doesn't mean to, but while that's a turn off for some people, it's alluring to others. Some like the chase. They like to have his full attention, to feel like they're better than everyone else because this person who feels so unattainable has chosen them. Regulus doesn't believe for a second that the people eyeing him like him for more than that, but he doesn't care. If they want to use him, he’ll let them. He's using them too.
He feels a body pressing to his own before he sees it. It's a girl, with seduction in her eyes and a wicked grin on her lips. She's confident, and she doesn't seem to care whether he's going to reject her or not. Regulus respects that. He likes bold people, even if he himself isn't. He dances with her, but leans down to speak in her ear, “I’m gay.”
He's not ashamed of assuming she's flirting, and neither is she of her intentions. “Good for you.” She says, and though her body language changes into something more amicable, she doesn't stop dancing with him. She's here for fun, whether that means a new friend or a hookup. The night is still young: she’ll have time to find the second later.
If it's the alcohol, or the bold energy emanating from the girl, Regulus doesn't know, but he finds himself leaning down to talk to her again. “I’m trying to make someone jealous.”
The girl smiles, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She throws her arms over his shoulders and presses their bodies closer. “Then let's put on a show.”
And they do.
Regulus looks to the sofa, and he finds James watching. He looks away when he realizes Regulus is watching back, falling into a conversation with Peter. The girl follows his eyes.
“Which one?” She says.
“The one with the glasses.” Regulus answers.
She whistles approvingly. “He's hot.”
Regulus finds himself laughing. Oh, he's aware. He's been for a long time.
They dance until the end of the song, and then she wishes him good back, winks, and dances away. Regulus doesn't doubt she'll find another partner soon.
It's not long after that Pandora finds him, slightly out of breath but beaming with satisfaction. She's dancing with a group of strangers, and she beckons him over as soon as she spots him. They wave and smile at him, and then they keep dancing. Pandora hooks her arms around his waist. She sneaks a glance towards James, who's currently speaking with the others while gesturing animatedly with his hands, and says, “Is it happening?”
“I’m trying.” Regulus answers, but he doesn't elaborate. He doesn't need to. Pandora has a way of knowing things she shouldn't. Besides, she knows him too well.
“Look.” She tilts her chin towards another side of the party, and for a second, Regulus thinks she's pointing to his ex. She isn't. Instead, she's pointing to someone hovering around him, dancing half heartedly with a drink in his hands. Someone who's already looking. “I bet he wants a dance.”
Regulus smiles and kisses her forehead. He usually isn't one for such displays of affection, but he's drunk, and Pandora's idea is genius.
Because that guy's one of his ex's friends. He's only seen him a couple times, not interested in mingling much with the people around someone he’s not going to be with for long, but every time he's met him, he gave signs. A look that's a tad too long, a lingering touch, a suggestive comment, sneaked in every time his ex wasn't looking. He held himself off, though not by much, because Regulus was dating his friend. But now he's fair game.
To make James jealous, any guy will do. But this one will piss off his ex beyond belief, and that's a bonus.
Pandora giggles and pushes him away, and Regulus starts walking towards him. Regulus thinks his name is Paul, but he's not sure. He hasn't really paid attention to him until now.
Maybe-Paul meets him in the middle.
“Hey.” He says, once he's close enough to be heard. “I heard you broke it off with Simon.”
Regulus tilts his head, a playful grin on his lips. “Did you?”
Paul places a hand on Regulus' forearm, taking a step closer. “Yeah. It's really shitty, what he did.”
Regulus laughs. Oh, if only he knew. Simon might be a cheater, but he's definitely not the shittiest out of the two of them.
“Oh, don't worry. I’m over it.”
Paul’s smile widens, almost wolfish, and his hand trails up to Regulus' neck. Behind him, Simon has stopped dancing to watch them, his face decomposed with anger. His brand new girlfriend asks him something, and he responds without averting his eyes from them. Her face falls minutely, and she walks away to one of her friends. Regulus feels bad for her, but there's a wave of satisfaction spreading over his body at the scene.
I might not have James yet, he thinks, but you're not winning.
“Want to dance?” Paul asks him, pulling his attention away from his ex.
“Sure.”
Paul closes the distance between them, slotting his body against his. Regulus props his chin on his shoulder, and immediately, his eyes search for James.
James is already looking.
Sirius is trying to get his attention, but he's unsuccessful. This time, James doesn't look away. There's something in his face that Regulus can't quite place. Maybe it's jealousy. Maybe it's Regulus' desperation, projecting in him the image he wants to see. But it's scalding hot, and it causes goosebumps to break all over his skin.
They stay like that for what feels like hours, grey eyes on hazel ones, James sitting on the sofa and Regulus dancing with someone else. Time stops, the music fades, and distance becomes inconsequential. Regulus no longer notices Paul’s body against his, doesn't feel the beat of the song reverberating from the speakers and pulsing through his body. The only thing in his mind is James, James, James.
He doesn't want to look away.
But he has to.
He's made his move. Shown all his cards. He's set up the bait, and it's time for James to decide if he wants to fall for it or stay away. If James wants Regulus, it's time for him to get him.
The last thing he sees is Sirius slapping James in the back of his head, and then he's back in the moment, dancing with Paul.
A sudden burst of anxiety explodes on his chest, and he turns them slightly, putting his back to James. He doesn't want to know if he's coming. He desperately doesn't want to know if he's not, because this is it. He's unknowingly backed himself into a corner, because if James doesn't come, it's over for him. It would mean he's not interested.
This is the last resource, Regulus realizes. He's never tried to make a move before, because he's terrified of the answer. He's lived with these feelings, this uncertainty, for so long that the mere idea of having an answer shoots a spike of dread down his spine. He thought, not even half an hour ago, that he had a chance, but does he? James has known him for years, and he's not once shown any interest. He's had enough time. And if he's never been interested in him before… Then it's likely he will never be.
Suddenly, Regulus doesn't want to be there anymore. He doesn't want to dance with Paul. He doesn't want to get back at his ex. He doesn't want to wait for James to come.
He doesn't want to know.
But it's already too late, because the game is already in motion. Regulus has made his play, and James is not answering.
James isn't–
“Regulus.”
The whole world stops.
Regulus steps back, disentangling himself from Paul. He's hyper aware of his own body, of the way he moves, of Paul’s hand in his waist gripping tighter at the interruption. It falls to Paul's side when Regulus turns, but he's not paying attention to it, because there he is.
James, with his golden glasses hanging on the tip of his nose. James, with his easy going features moulded into something harsher, almost stern. James, with that sinfully tight crop top of his that has been driving Regulus mad since the start of the party.
He's here.
And he's looking.
“Hey.” Regulus says, on the edge of breathlessness.
“Dance with me.” James says, and it's not a question. He's not searching for an answer. He's demanding it. Regulus has to use all of his willpower not to jump him then and there.
“He's dancing with me.” Paul says, territorial, and it ignites a spark of annoyance in Regulus.
James doesn't even dignify him with a response. He stands there, hazel eyes hooked on Regulus, almost daring him to reject him. It makes Regulus' body burst into flames.
Regulus doesn't look away from James, either. “Goodbye, Paul.”
He hears Paul squeak behind him. “Paul?”
Ah. So his name isn't Paul. Good to know. He's not going to be asking for the real one any time soon.
James takes his hand and guides him away. His palm is rough, larger than Regulus', and the deep tone of his skin contrasts nicely against Regulus' pallor. They fit. Regulus needs to find out what else about them does.
“It's not nice to lead people on.” James says.
“I'm not nice.” Regulus answers, because he isn't. He's selfish, at the edge of machiavellian at times. He doesn't care about most people, just the ones he considers his.
“All I’m saying is, if you want to get back at your ex, do it with someone who's in on the plan.” James comments, far too casual, and it makes Regulus stop in his tracks. James pauses, too, and they stand there in the middle of the dance floor, hands still linked.
“Are you volunteering, James?”
James takes a step forward. “What if I am?”
Regulus looks him over, from head to toe. Considering. As if he ever had anything to consider, with James. But James is here, finally looking at him, and Regulus wants to have fun with this. There's still a chance that James doesn't want him, not really, and Regulus is going to make the most of the opportunity while he still has it.
Slowly, he circles his arms around James' shoulders. “I guess you’ll do.”
An undeniable truth about James Potter is that he loves a challenge. He likes to work for it, so that when he inevitably gets what he wants, he can say he deserves it. Regulus can make himself a challenge, if that's what James wants. In the deepest part of him, he knows he’ll always do whatever James wants.
James answers to his challenge. When he takes Regulus by the waist to pull him closer, he does it with force. Regulus feels his fingers digging in his skin, through the thin fabric of his silk black button up. He hopes it bruises. He hopes the indents of his fingers become permanent, ever present. He hopes they leave a mark, and that it transcends physicality to seep into his very core. He needs to have a piece of James resting inside him, so that he can bring it with him wherever he goes. Wear it like a prize, like his most cherished possession. He wants for everyone to see it and instantly know who he belongs to.
He feels like they do, now, dancing with James in the center of the crowd. Like he's the main character of a movie, the spotlight shining on them and illuminating the scene, pointing them out and saying, hey, look at them. They're special. Like everyone could be watching, following their every move, and they still would be the only ones on the dance floor.
This is where he's meant to be, safe between James' arms, faces so close together that their breaths intermingle. He could exist there forever, lost in the tension hovering in the space between them.
He's giddy. He's euphoric. He's–
Bumping into someone.
They make him stumble, and if it wasn't for James' tight grip on him, he might have fallen to the floor. Just like that, the trance is broken, and in its wake is left an unwavering irritation. He fastens his hold on James, possessive, and turns to glare at the cause of the interruption.
When he sees who it is, he has the maddening urge to laugh.
“Well, if it isn't the happy couple.” Simon spits out. He's drunk, swaying on his feet and holding a can of beer. His girlfriend is nowhere to be seen.
“Do I know you?” James interjects, his arms staying put around Regulus' waist. Oh, he's feeling petty. Regulus loves that.
Simon blinks, thrown off by the comment, then turns to Regulus with narrowed eyes. “You didn't tell him about me?”
“I did!” Regulus giggles –he’ll blame it on the alcohol, because that is embarrassing–, and playfully slaps James on the chest. “He's my ex, James.”
“Oh!” James lights up in recognition, as if he wasn't fully aware of who Simon is this whole time, and smiles deceitfully kindly at him. “Right, the cheater.”
Simon grimaces, but he doesn't deny it. It's the truth. But they both know it's not the full one, and Simon isn't keen on keeping it between them. “I’m not the only cheater here. Isn't that right, Regulus?”
James frowns, his hold on Regulus going lax. He wasn't expecting that, and by the look of it, he doesn't like it. Regulus panics. He has to do something.
“Simon–”
“Stop.” Simon interrupts, and where before was anger, now there's pure, unadulterated hurt. “I’m getting tired of you trying to deny it. I know, Regulus. You’ve been in love with Potter since we met, and that… That’s cheating.”
Regulus stays silent, because what can he say? That he's wrong? That he hasn't been in love with James Potter for years? He can't, because it wouldn't be true. And Simon doesn't deserve more lies. It was easy to delude himself into thinking he was justified, because Simon cheated on him. Because he never thought he’d never have a chance with James, and doesn't he have the right to try to move on? To find someone new? Except, he never tried to. He didn't want to.
And now, watching the consequences of his actions reflected in Simon's hurt, he can't find it in himself to lie anymore. Regulus lied to him, and he used him, and he cheated too. Simon was a good boyfriend. He didn't deserve that.
But he doesn't feel guilty. He knows with certainty that, if it got him here, between James' arms, he would do it again in a heartbeat. No remorse, no second thoughts.
Regulus is not a good person. But he owes it to Simon not to lie anymore.
Simon takes his silence for what it is: an admission of blame. He nods once, and turns to address James. “Be careful with that one. He's a fucking liar.”
Ouch. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but still.
Simon doesn't wait for a response before leaving, and then they're alone.
Regulus can't look at James, because now it's all in the open. His secrets, laid bare for him to see. It's the day of reckoning, and Regulus is terrified to hear his sentence.
“Is it true?” James says, and there's something to his voice that Regulus, for the life of him, can't interpret. If he could see James' expression, maybe it would be easier. But he can't look him in the face, not after that.
So he does what he does best: He deflects. “What is?”
James isn't having that. “That you're in love with me. Is it true?”
Out of everything Simon said, Regulus didn't expect that to be what James get out of the conversation. He's a noble person. He hates cheaters. He hates liars. To him, that's an unforgivable act. And still, he chooses to ignore it in favour of acknowledging his feelings. Why? Does he feel guilty? Does he think he's the reason why Simon got hurt?
Regulus can’t stand the thought of that. He can't let James believe this is anything but Regulus' fault. But he can't quite lie either. Not to James. James, who is waiting for an answer. And he's never been a patient man.
“Regulus.”
Regulus has two options: to deflect or to tell the truth. Deflection is tempting, because it's not definitive. He could test the waters. See if James has any semblance of feelings for him, if there's still hope. But… But James hasn't stepped back. He's still touching Regulus. He's still looking at him. So he jumps straight into the water, and hopes he doesn't drown.
“It's true.”
After that, there's a moment of quiet. The air holds still, accompanying Regulus in his waiting. He becomes aware of the music, booming and thrumming through his body. He sees the world in slow motion, the people dancing around them and ignoring their existence, as if this isn't the most consequential moment of Regulus' life.
For a second, he thinks about fleeing. About finding one of his friends, and escaping this party and this dreaded house. He knows they’ll do it for him. They’ll hold him while he cries like the pathetic excuse of a man he is, and they’ll comfort first and ask questions later.
For a second, he thinks he could do it.
But the second ends, and there's a hand on his cheek, and lips against his, and James is kissing him.
James is kissing him.
Regulus is confused. Regulus is exhilarated. Both things coexist within him, and he can do nothing else but kiss James back, because this. This is what he has been waiting for. This is what he's been craving.
James' lips are chapped and sticky from the alcohol, and they taste of rum and coke and the slightest hint of smoke. They're not moving, just pressing against his, but the contact is maddening enough to consume his entire being. The kiss isn't perfect. It's stiff, and tentative, and Regulus doesn't know if he should deepen it and make the most of it, or pull back and ask what prompted it.
It's the best kiss he’s ever had.
James makes the decision for him, in the end. He breaks the kiss, but pushes their foreheads together. Regulus wants to chase his mouth, merge their lips until they don't know where one ends and the other starts, but keeps still and doesn't open his eyes. He feels James' breath fanning against his face, and he takes a moment to appreciate the closeness. Then, he asks, “What was that for?”
“Because I love you.”
Shock spreads to his system, and Regulus has to open his eyes to confirm that he hasn't imagined the response. He sees James, his glasses askew, his hair in its permanent state of disarray, a dopey, dumb-like smile on his lips. The only thing Regulus can do in response is squeak out a “Huh?”
James chuckles, and the hand on his cheek shifts to place a stray strand of hair behind Regulus' ear. “I said, it's because I love you.”
That's it. Regulus is going to pass away. His epitaph will read Here lies Regulus Black, a dumb bitch who died because of big feelings. His parents probably won’t visit his grave, but his brother will. Barty will make a speech at his funeral, and he’ll say something stupid like he was a nice guy, and everyone present will know he's blatantly lying. His cause of death will be told to generations after him, and the children of the future will call him embarrassing, because he is.
James smirks, playful and teasing, and pulls Regulus even closer. “What is it, love? Cat got your tongue?”
And Regulus giggles. He buries his face in the crook of James' neck, holds him tight, and giggles like a fucking schoolgirl. The feeling spreads, and soon enough James is laughing with him. Regulus can't believe that happened. He’ll have to pinch himself later, see if he's dreaming, but for now, he doesn't want to wake up.
“I hope you know you're not getting rid of me now.” Regulus says, the sound almost muffled by the music.
“Good.” James presses his lips to the crown of Regulus' head. It can't be called a kiss, though. James is smiling far too much for that. “‘Cause that's exactly what I want.”
Loud whoops break through the music, and Regulus raises his head in time to see the blurred shape of a body rapidly advancing towards them. Sirius collides with them, trapping them in a bear hug, and Regulus has no doubt he would be lifting them if he wasn't incapacitated by alcohol. He screeches in their ears, loud enough to induce a headache. “Fucking finally!”
James splutters, taken off guard, but he's used to Sirius' antics enough by now to return the hug before Sirius makes them topple over. “You knew?”
“Of course I knew!” Sirius barks out a laugh, and starts regaling him with the tale of suffering Regulus' incessant pining, and then James'. It occurs to Regulus that that's why Sirius had that sudden change in opinion: He realized James liked Regulus back. He should be embarrassed that his brother is exposing him to his crush, but he isn't. Because James isn't his crush anymore, isn't he? He's more.
Regulus surveys the area, because the cheering hasn't subsided now that his brother has shut up, and he finds his friends surrounding them, celebrating them. Barty and Evan, clapping and whistling and making every stranger around them join in on the cheering. Pandora, beaming and shaking a smirking Dorcas. Marlene, by her side, cat calling them like a construction worker. Peter, Lily, and Mary, joint by the arms and locked in a rapid fire conversation, no doubt gossiping about them. Remus, slow clapping in a way that's frankly very cinematic.
When Sirius dragged him to this party, Regulus didn't have much hope for the night. But now, surrounded by found family and standing between the arms of the love of his life, he finds that coming here is the best decision he's ever made.
Regulus isn't a good person. But he can't be that bad, either, if he's allowed to be this happy.