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The stage was dimly lit, golden spotlights casting a soft glow over Regulus Black as he sat with his guitar, fingers gently strumming the strings. The crowd was hushed, waiting, breath held in anticipation. He was never one for grand performances, not like Sirius, who thrived in the spotlight, but this song was different. This was his song.
He glanced up, searching instinctively for James.
James was supposed to be there, front row, exactly where Regulus could see him. Always watching, always smiling, that insufferable, beautiful, sunshine smile. But now? His seat was empty.
Regulus faltered, fingers missing a chord. His chest tightened, something bitter curling in his throat. James had promised. He’d said, I wouldn’t miss it for the world, love.
Liar.
He inhaled sharply and forced himself to keep playing. His voice was soft when he started singing, raw and earnest, as if whispering secrets into the night. The song was about love—not the loud, fiery kind but the quiet, lingering one. The love that clung to you, no matter how much you tried to push it away.
And then,
Warmth.
Arms wrapped around him from behind, solid and sure, pulling him close. A familiar scent, fresh air and something distinctly James, filled his senses.
The crowd gasped, then cheered.
Regulus froze, fingers stilling on the strings as James pressed his forehead against the side of his head, breath warm against his skin.
“You really thought I’d miss this?” James murmured, voice barely audible over the noise.
Regulus exhaled shakily, tension melting from his body as he leaned back, just slightly, into the embrace.
“You weren’t there,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to it. Just relief. Just affection.
James chuckled, tightening his arms around him. “Had to make an entrance, didn’t I?”
Regulus huffed, shaking his head. Idiot. But his hands found the guitar again, and when he continued playing, James stayed right there, holding him, grounding him.
And for the first time that night, Regulus wasn’t nervous anymore.
Because James was home. And James was here.
Regulus wasn’t sure how he kept playing, how his fingers still moved along the strings when his entire body felt like it was burning from James’ touch. The warmth of his arms still lingered, solid and grounding, even as James slowly, reluctantly, pulled back just enough to move beside him.
The microphone in front of him caught his next breath, a little shaky, but when he looked to the side—James was smiling. That stupid, dazzling, too-bright smile that always made Regulus feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as doomed as he thought.
Regulus grabbed the mic and tilted it back and James grabbed it, lifting it with practiced ease, and then,
Then he started singing.
Regulus nearly forgot to breathe.
James’ voice was different from his own, where Regulus sang with quiet precision, James was effortless, golden, like he was made to be heard. The way their voices intertwined when Regulus started singing sent shivers down his spine. The crowd roared, but Regulus barely heard them.
All he heard was James.
James, who was looking at him like he was the only person in the world.
James, who had once told him I’ll always show up for you, no matter what.
James, who had kept his promise.
Regulus swallowed hard, something fierce and fragile swelling in his chest, and instead of looking away, he let himself hold James’ gaze. His finger intertwined with James’ and he watched as the purple lights danced across his curls.
The song built towards its final chorus, the kind that made people close their eyes and sway in the crowd. But James didn’t close his eyes. He just smiled, tilting his head slightly, like he knew exactly what Regulus was thinking.
When the last note faded into the air, when the crowd erupted into applause, James didn’t move away.
Instead, he gave the mic back to Regulus, turned fully to him, and in front of everyone,
He cupped Regulus’ face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks, and pressed a kiss on his lips.
Regulus’ breath hitched. He could hear the crowd screaming, could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, but all he could focus on was James’ voice, soft and steady against his skin.
“I’m so proud of you, love.”
Regulus closed his eyes for half a second, just to commit this to memory.
Then, with a quiet sigh, he leaned into James’ touch and let himself believe, just for tonight, that maybe, just maybe, this kind of happiness was meant for him too.
—
Backstage was electric. The energy from the performance still buzzed in Regulus’ veins as he let James pull him down the dimly lit corridor, fingers wrapped securely around his wrist. The cheers from the crowd were still echoing through the walls, a reminder of the moment that had just unfolded on stage.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.
The song, their song, was one Regulus always performed alone. It had been written for the show they had starred in together, a song meant for his character. But James had known it. Of course, he had.
Because James had always known him.
And tonight, in front of thousands of people, James had walked on stage and started singing along, voice strong and steady, blending with Regulus’ like they had rehearsed it a thousand times before.
They hadn’t.
But it didn’t matter.
Because the moment James’ voice joined his, the moment Regulus turned and saw him standing there, eyes bright, smile wide, it had felt right.
Now, as James finally stopped outside Regulus’ dressing room and turned to face him, Regulus could barely find the words.
James was still grinning. That stupid, infuriatingly charming grin that made Regulus feel like he was falling.
“You,” Regulus started, but James beat him to it.
“I know, I know, I wasn’t supposed to,” he said, hands up in mock surrender. “But you can’t tell me it wasn’t bloody perfect.”
Regulus narrowed his eyes. “It was reckless.”
James smirked. “It was us.”
Regulus hated that he was right.
Hated that he hadn’t been annoyed, not really. That the second James had appeared, his frustration over not seeing him in the crowd had evaporated.
That having James up there beside him had made the song feel different.
Bigger. Real.
Regulus sighed, crossing his arms. “You could’ve warned me.”
James stepped closer, head tilting. “And miss the look on your face?”
Regulus rolled his eyes, but James just reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear, fingers lingering against his jaw.
“You were brilliant,” James murmured, voice softer now. “I just,” He exhaled, like he was trying to find the words. “I wanted to be a part of it. Just once.”
Regulus stared at him, at the way he was looking at him, and felt the last of his irritation melt away.
Because James had been a part of it. From the first moment Regulus had learned the song, from all the late nights where James had hummed along as he practiced, to every whispered lyric between them when no one else was listening.
Of course, James had wanted to sing it.
And maybe, just maybe, Regulus had wanted him to, too.
He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.”
James grinned. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”
Regulus huffed. “Unfortunately.”
James chuckled, leaning in. “So, does this mean I’m forgiven?”
Regulus pretended to consider it, but they both knew the answer.
Instead of replying, he grabbed James’ collar and pulled him in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips.
James hummed against his mouth, smiling as he pulled Regulus even closer.
When they finally broke apart, Regulus smirked. “Don’t think this means you can do it again.”
James just raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “No promises.”
Regulus groaned, pushing him away, though not too far. And when James laughed, warm and golden, Regulus thought that maybe, just maybe, this moment would become his favorite song of all.