Chapter Text
Regulus lowers his wands, panting like he scored in a Quidditch game; his brother has a hand pressed on his stomach and a cut on his lip that bleeds into his chin. They look at each other, the air still, magic still coursing through their veins. Eventually, Sirius straightens his back, wipes the blood at ouf his face and takes a few steps towards Regulus.
‘Good job’, he says, arkwardly patting his shoulder, before beginning to leave the room.
Regulus follows, a grin on his lips, satisfied of himself.
It probably isn’t what their friends meant when they suggested Regulus and Sirius should try to mend their relationship, but so far it as worked way better than any of them expected. Talking things out was never very much their thing, so duelling does a perfect job. They give it all, each time, but never hurt each other besides what a quick healing spell can fix. Neither of them have ended up in the infirmary so far, so it’s definitely not going that bad.
Sirius always tries to do a bit of conversation after, which Regulus finds definitety awkward, but lets him, because that’s what he thinks siblings are supposed to do. He doesn’t know what brothers do, really; him and Sirius were raised more as rivals than as family. Now that the adversary has definitively been eliminated, Regulus guesses it’s probably time to work on building a proper bond. Not that he intends to stay long enough to get his prize anyways. Most of the time, they don’t go farther than shallow talks about how their friends are going, and Sirius sometimes updates him on his relationship situation, which is always Moony’s awesome, I love him so much, Moony’s great, blah, blah, blah. Regulus never talks about this kind of stuff because he never has anything to say.
Unsurprinsingly, they find Remus, James and Peter waiting for Sirius not that far, because Gryffindors -or maybe it’s just his brother and his friends, Regulus doesn’t know- are unable to spend more than an hour away from each other. Remus and Sirius kiss quickly, nothing more than a peck on the lips, yet Regulus can’t help but avert his gaze and look away. It’s not that he has anything against it, obviously, it just feels weird to him seeing his brother like this with someone. And he’s definitely not jealous in the slightest. Pettigrew immediately start to euthousiatly update them on something, while Sirius barks a laugh. Regulus lingers a few steps behind, as their common rooms are in the same directions, but he isn’t keen on sociolazing with his brother’s friends. Potter waits a few seconds, leaving Sirius’s side to walk along Regulus.
Regulus doesn’t know what his deal is. At the beginning, he only shot sideway glances at Regulus after the duels, definitely not as subtly as he thought. Lately, he has taken upon actually conversing with Regulus, which confuses him to the highest degree.
“Did he win this time?”
“Obviously not.”
James gives him a smug smile, and Regulus forces himself to look away.
“You’re a beast at duels, apparently. Too bad it’s not the same in Quidditch.”
“I’m very good at Quidditch, thank you.”
“Yeah, you’re not wrong.” James has the audacity to nudge Regulus with his shoulder. “Too bad the rest of your team sucks then.”
Regulus then turns to him, deadpan.
“Did you come here solely to bother me?”
“Hm, maybe.”
The smile on James’s face does not falter, his eyes creasing along, and Regulus feels the sudden need to wipe it off his face.
“Well, congratulations, you’ve done it.”
“Let’s make a bet,” James continues.
“A bet?”
“Yeah. There’s a match between Gryffindor and Slytherin in a few weeks, right? Well, I happen to have detention right after.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“If we win, which will totally happen, you have to help me clean the potions room. Just once.”
“And if I win?”
“Choose your prize.”
Regulus can’t believe that he’s considering it, but he knows James enough to be aware he’s not going to let it go. It’s not like he has any detention to be helped through, because he’s smart enough to never get caugh when he breaks the rules. He tries to thinks about what he’d like to do with James, or do to James, but he finds he has to stop going that slippery route in his mind.
“A duel,” he ends up saying, right before their paths diverge. “You and me. Let’s see who wins then.”
James’s smile gets even bigger, showing his crooked yet frustratingly perfect teeth, and begins trotting behind his friends as Regulus goes the opposite way.
“Anyway,” he says across the corridors, “it’s a date.”
He then turns around, and catches up with his friends who are busy laughing again, and Regulus tries to ignore the blood flushing his face. He knows James doesn’t mean it as a date date, because he’s like that, charming and flirty to everyone, yet Regulus wishes he could just avoid doing it to him. Because as much as he hates it, Regulus is weak, and James is James, so it effectively does something to him.
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The moment when they all get their letters is usually quite stressful. Regulus doesn’t often get any, except for some unpersonal present for his birthday or a short update on his family situation. Barty doesn’t really get anything either, especially considering that his relationship with his father seems to get more and more strained as time goes on.
However, this day must be quite special, because an owl goes to drop a letter, not a huge one, in front of Regulus’ friend. The envelope is very sober, a simple white, blank except for Barty’s name written on it. Regulus doesn’t really pay attention to it, because he’s busy talking with Dorcas about their upcoming Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Regulus has been first in his class in the subject ever since he joined the school, so he’s quite passionate about the grade he’s going to get, which is probably why he doesn’t register the familiar look of the letter Barty is reading, followed by a burst of laughter.
“Reg,” he then says, elbowing him over the table, "Are you the one who did this?” He’s still laughing, chewing on some toast as he speaks, “Or is it your brother? His pranks are usually more spectacular.”
The mention of Sirius has the merit to make Regulus turn immediately towards Barty, and he feels like all his blood drains from his body as he looks at the piece of paper Barty is holding.
It’s a light green, which is Regulus’s favourite colour, right behind black—ironically, because he is a Slytherin after all. It doesn’t mean anything; it’s just a light green letter; it could be from anyone. But what Barty said doesn’t really leave any room for doubt, and Regulus is able to catch a glimpse of a cursive, neat but a little childish handwriting—his own.
No. No, no, no, no, no, no, he thinks. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
“This is quite flattering,” Barty continues, as if Regulus isn’t actively dying next to him. “And whoever wrote it was really good at imitating your handwriting, too.”
Emerging out of his short-lived vegetative state, Regulus snatches the letter from Barty’s hands, and stands up from their table before hurrying out of the room. The second he’s alone in the corridors, he roams his eyes on the letter, and realises, his heart sinking even deeper, that yes, this is indeed happening to him. There is no doubt, he recognises every single sentence written as his own, and every single word he reads is a little more mortifying than the other.
His handwriting is neat, almost perfect but not quite there, and he can see how much effort he put into writing it. He remembers it, which makes him cringe even more. What was he even thinking?
He was young, that’s what he was. Well, he still is, technically; he’s only seventeen. But the letter, this specific letter, is something around two years old, and he knows that it’s not the only one there is, the oldest being nearly five years old.
It was dumb. A childish thing, really. A fooling habit, even. It’s just that, in the chilling place that was his house, and the cold environment that was his family, Regulus was never really one to express his feelings all that much. Even today, he’s not the biggest fan of talking about what he feels, even if he’s doing better. But back then, when he was entering teenagehood and he began to be attracted to people, he didn’t have anyone to talk about it, and didn’t want to anyways. So, this was his solution: writing letters, to the people he happened to like, and then hiding them away in a black box in a corner of his room. The most important thing being that these letters were absolutely never meant to be found, read, or sent.
But they have been, evidently—or at least this one, since Regulus didn’t really take the time to look around as he left the room. He hopes with everything he has that it was the only one who found its way out of the box, and Regulus is just going to be able to deny everything.
The worst part is that Regulus’s crush on Barty wasn’t even that big of a thing. Didn’t last more than a couple of weeks, and has definitely been gone for years. When they were fifteen, they were both inexperienced, and a bit confused, and Barty had asked to kiss him, just to see, to practice, and Regulus had been tipsy enough to agree. It wasn’t a big thing, really; just a short kiss, didn’t last more than a few seconds. But it was the first boy Regulus kissed, and Barty was really sweet about it, and didn’t act like it was a big deal, back when for Regulus, the fact that he wanted to kiss boys was a very big deal. So, for not even more than a month, Regulus has had a little thing for Barty, because Barty was handsome, and funny, and his first kiss. Regulus wrote his letter, never spoke a word of it to anyone, and it went away just like it always did.
The letter is full of pretentious metaphors and big words, because Regulus always liked to show off a bit, even for something he kept solely for himself. He sees how it could be quite flattering for the person who got it, except that Regulus didn’t mean for this person to actually get it, and the way he wrote it makes it seem like a way bigger deal than what it actually was.
Regulus didn’t really see what Barty had read and what he didn’t, because he snatched the letter out of his hands the second he realised what it was, but he knows that whatever Barty has read is already too much. He doesn’t have the time to linger about all the ways he’s going to torture the person who sent the letter, because he hears footsteps behind him, and at first, he expects it to be one of his friends, but he turns around to see Lily Evans, one of his brother’s friends, trotting towards him.
“Hey, Regulus,” she says with a smile when she reaches him.
Regulus doesn’t answer, doesn’t say anything, because his eyes are fixated on the folded green sheet of paper she’s holding in her hand.
“So, I got your letter, and, um… It’s really sweet, really, very nice, but uh… I’m not, interested, unfortunately. It’s nothing against you, you seem like a good guy, and the letter was really well written, but I'm not… I don’t think it’s going to work out, that’s all. But it was very nice!” she rambles, her free hand occasionally tucking a strand of ginger hair behind her ear.
“I’m not into you,” Regulus finally blurts out after letting her talk for way too long.
“I’m sorry?”
“This is a mistake. It’s not, uh…” The worst part is Regulus is usually very put together, or at least he tries to be, but he doesn’t think he has genuinely ever been this taken aback by something in his life. “I’m not interested either. Sorry.”
“So you didn’t write the letter? Is this another prank?” She asks, frowning a little, her eyes squinting
“No, I did,” Regulus answers reflexively, immediately internally beating himself up for it. He’s going to have to work on not admitting stuff this easily; you never know when you might find yourself having to deny something. He pinches the skin between his eyes in frustration. “A long time ago. You were never meant to get it. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, it’s okay. Sorry I was so awkward then”, she says, and the worst part is that she honestly seems sorry, and relieved at the same time. “Do you want it back?” she then asks, handing him the letter.
“Yeah, yeah, thank you,” then takes it out of her hand, so that she doesn’t have the time to show it to anyone else, especially to his brother, who would make fun of him until the day he died if he heard about it; if he hasn’t already, which is very unlikely, and Merlin, Regulus realises he is never going to hear the end of it.
Lily seems to pick up on his distress, because she puts a hand on his shoulder, and tells him, “It’s not a big deal, really, don’t worry about it. And your writing is quite good, honestly.”
Regulus simply nods, tense, because at this moment, there is nothing he wants more than to see her disappear, which she thankfully does quickly, and Regulus is left alone with two of his letters in his hand in the middle of the corridor. He figures the worst thing that could happen would be someone else coming to him about this, so he doesn’t linger and quickly heads to his first class, shoving the letters in his robes’ pockets.
The letter to Lily was the first one Regulus ever wrote, when he was just twelve. It was a long time ago, when he was still deep in denial about absolutely everything. He’d never really had a crush, at least not one he was aware of, and Lily was older than him by a year, and she was pretty, and most importantly, she was extremely smart, so Regulus had decided that he had a crush on her. It was very stupid, and the letter isn’t long, the shortest of them all if he remembers right, because truly, he didn’t have a lot to say, considering he’d never even shared a word with her, and he was on the verge of realising that girls were just not really his thing.
Regulus isn’t able to focus on any class that day, which makes him even more upset than before. Not even upset; he’s fuming. Who could have done this? He knows he’s not always the most cordial, but he doesn’t know anyone who would want to humiliate him that bad. Also, the letters were stacked in Grimmauld Place, so there is no way someone he knows from Hogwarts did it. But Sirius left more than a year ago, and he had no idea about the letters, because no one was supposed to, and he doesn’t see how he would’ve found them, why he would’ve read them, kept them all this time, and decided to send them right in the middle of their effort to repair their strained relationship. And Regulus knows that there is absolutely no way that his parents would’ve done something like it, so he can’t even focus on getting revenge because there is legitimately no one he could rationally blame.
After class, Regulus does his best to go to his dorm as fast as possible in order to avoid anybody who could be carrying one of his letters, and he almost thinks he’s done it when he sees Remus Lupin waiting in next to the Slytherin common room’s entrance, leaning against the wall, a green piece of paper in his hand. Regulus doesn’t wait for the awkward rejection that is inevitably coming.
“Yes, I wrote it,” he tells Lupin through clenched teeth while snatching the letter out of his hand, “No, you weren’t meant to get it, and no, I’m not interested anymore.”
“Hm,” Lupin simply answers, his eyes squinted, “Almost thought it was another one of Sirius’s pranks for a while.”
So, this isn’t Sirius’s doing, which Regulus knew, but it’s great to have the confirmation. Because as dumb as his brother can be, this really isn’t his style, and he knows he wouldn’t have done anything without talking to Lupin, or Potter, about it, let alone something that involved Regulus sending a very embarrassing love letter to his boyfriend.
“Lupin,” Regulus calls when he sees Remus starting to head back to his dorm, “Could you avoid talking to him about this? Please?”
Regulus hates that he has to demand anything from Lupin, but he legitimately can’t think about anything more embarrassing than Sirius finding out about it. Remus doesn’t answer properly, simply shrugs, and goes away.
Remus’ letter was the second one Regulus wrote, around a year after Lily’s one. He knew he liked boys back then, but it was something that was buried very, very deep in him, and something he didn’t want anyone to find out about, ever. He’s worked on it ever since, and even if it’s not ideal, he’s accepted his situation, but it hadn’t always been this easy for him. There was a time, back when he was a young teen full of confusion and self-hatred, where he couldn’t even fathom a world that involved him being comfortable with his part of himself, let alone admit he had a crush on a boy. Lupin wasn’t even a fully formed crush, more of an attraction really. The situation makes him cringe when he thinks back about it, but back then, it meant the world to him.
Regulus was twelve, and Remus was already so tall he towered over anyone his age; Regulus was watching a Quidditch match, because Sirius had insisted that he come to watch him play; even if their relationship was already not the best, it hadn’t exploded yet like it would a few years after, and Regulus wasn’t a part of the team yet, so he sat hunched between a very loudly supportive Peter Pettigrew and a more reserved Remus Lupin. Eventually, sometimes during the match, some seventh-year student had his arm injured and had to take his shirt off in the middle of the court. It was nothing, mundane, but for a young Regulus who hadn’t seen that many bare muscular chests in his life, it was enough to turn him into a flustered, blushing mess. He thought no one had noticed, because back then, it didn’t even cross his mind that anybody could even think that he could be attracted to a boy, because he was just coming to terms with it himself. But Lupin had noticed, and he hadn’t made fun of him, just leaned towards him, and spoke quietly in his ear, “Handsome, right?”
Regulus could’ve developed a crush on the objectively handsome and very dramatic half-naked Quidditch player lying on the pitch, but instead, he decided that the one who’d been the first one to see through him, and didn’t make fun of him would be the one for him. Regulus was a very dramatic kid, so he was convinced that Remus was the love of his life for around a week, then he went home for winter break, wrote one of his letters, and got over it. And so, Regulus could never truly bring himself to hate Lupin like he did the rest of his brother’s friends, because he was the first person who made him feel okay with who he was.
But the infatuation was gone, Remus had begun dating his brother, and he was never, ever supposed to hear about it. Regulus was going to find whoever did this to him and absolutely obliterate them.
---------------
The second Regulus steps into his room, four pairs of eyes turn towards him, a glint of wickedness in every single one of them. Barty is on Evan’s bed, his head resting on his boyfriend’s legs, while Pandora and Dorcas sit on the floor.
“So?” Barty speaks first, “Care to explain what that was?”
Regulus sighs, runs a hand through his hair, because he knew there was no way he could’ve avoided this. But they’re his friends, and he knows if there is anyone he can talk about this to, it is them. So he goes to sit on his bed and pulls the three letters out of his robes.
“There’s more?” Evan asks, surprised.
“Five in total,” Regulus admits, defeated.
Regulus’s friends just keep looking at him, visibly waiting for him to explain himself.
“It’s stupid,” he starts. “But you have got to promise that you won’t make fun of me.”
“Is it that bad?” Dorcas asks, visibly holding back a laugh.
“Yes, it is that bad.”
They take turns swearing they won’t make fun of him, and Regulus knows he doesn’t have another choice.
“So, hm… How do I say this… You guys know I’m, like, not the best with talking about what I feel.”
“That’s an euphemism,” Dorcas interrupts, earning a murderous look from Regulus.
“Yeah, well, I guess, a few years back. I thought I found a solution for that. Every time I would have a crush, which didn’t happen that often, I would just, I guess, write a letter to them, telling them how I felt. But the letters were never, ever meant to be sent. It was just for me. To get it out of my system, I guess.”
“That’s all?” Evan answers, visibly disappointed.
“What do you mean, that’s all?” Barty stands up. “It’s brilliant! We get to know everybody Regulus had a crush on, including me!”
“It was a long time ago,” Regulus immediately specifies, “And it wasn’t even a proper crush, like, more of a quick attraction. But it’s over. I’m not into you at all anymore.”
“Oi, don’t act like having a crush on me is a disease!”
“It kind of is,” Dorcas responds with a laugh.
“So,” Pandora interrupts her, “Who else?”
Well, Regulus is going to have to say it now. Merlin, could this situation get any more embarrassing?
“These are Evan’s and Lupin’s,” he shows them the letters in his hand.
“Lily Evans?” Pandora shouts. “Remus Lupin?” Evan screeches at the same time.
“It was a long time ago,” Regulus admits through clenched teeth. At least, his friends seem to find it more hilarious than embarrassing.
“Merlin, I had no idea Griffyndors were that much your type,” Barty articulated between his laughter. You have no idea, Regulus thinks.
“How many more are there out there?”, Pandora asks once they’re finished having a fit.
“Two,” Regulus sighs.
“Kingsley?” Dorcas asks, to which Regulus only answers with a nod.
Kingsley Shackebolt was a big one, the first and only one he ever told them about, when he realised having friends meant that you could talk to them about this sort of thing.
Kinsley’s a Hufflepuff, which is mildly embarrassing for Regulus, but well… He’s handsome, and interesting, and he’s got a strong sense of justice, and he and Regulus had to do an assignment in Runes once together. They didn’t talk that much more than that, but Regulus remembers Kingsley being nice, and helping Regulus when he struggled—which doesn’t happen very often, but it was right after Sirius left, when he was still having a rough time pretty much everywhere, and it was nice to have someone be nice to him. Regulus isn’t completely oblivious, he knows the fact that he’s a Black can make people act weird towards him, in many different ways, sometimes negatively, especially for non-Slytherins, but Kingsley never seemed to care about that. It didn’t take much more than a brush of fingers over a notebook, and Regulus was gone. Embarrassing, really, but he’s a teenager after all.
“I get it,” Pandora ends up admitting, “He’s an attractive bloke.”
“I don’t know,” Dorcas retorts, “He’s really just a man.”
“You think every man is just a man,” Evan answers.
“Am I wrong?”
“Yes,” Barty says, “Some men are very attractive. Like me, for example. Regulus definitely seems to think so.”
“Shut up,” he snaps. “I told you I don’t anymore.”
“Lover, you wound me.”
Eventually, the debate on male attractiveness fortunately dies down, and Regulus’s friends are back to staring at him, waiting for more.
“So?” Dorcas breaks their silence, “The last one?”
There it is. The previous ones were all pretty embarrassing, but this one is by far the worst one. Because it’s the one crush Regulus has been trying to get rid of for years but never went away. And the fact that this person is probably currently owning the letter Regulus wrote is enough to make him want to drown himself. But he cannot leave his friends hanging anymore, so he screws up his courage and says it.
He’s met with a silence, which is not what he was expecting.
“Reg,” Pandora finally says, “You’re mumbling; we can’t understand.”
Merlin, are they going to make him say it again?
“Come on,” Evan says, “Barty had a crush on Slughorn in third year, it can’t be worse than that.”
“I did not!” Barty argues, slapping Evan’s chest from where he rests on his lap.
“It’s James,” Regulus finally says, effectively silencing them.
“James?” Pandora finally speaks.
“James Potter?” Barty asks, and Regulus can only nod, because yes, his last, longest, and most recent letter is in fact addressed to the one and only James Potter.
“You have the weirdest taste in men I have ever seen,” Dorcas says.
“I didn’t know you liked Gryffindors that much,” Barty adds with a smile. “But I definitely get it. There’s a reason all the girls are drooling for him, he’s proper fit.”
“He’s your best friend’s brother,” Pandora apparently finds useful to specify.
“I know,” Regulus says, because of course he knows. “It’s not like I can help it.”
Obviously, Regulus cannot help it, because if he could, he would have definitely gotten rid of it earlier. He tried, he really did, he wrote a letter just like he did for all the others, yet it never passed. It’s just that, there was a time when James was the person Regulus hated the most in the entire world. Because James met Sirius, and they became friends, and James was Sirius’s brother, except Sirius already had a brother, but their relationship was crumbling under the weight of their family tree, and Regulus was deadly jealous. He was terribly jealous that James could be what he couldn't to Sirius. Because before he went to Hogwarts, when he was still very naive, Regulus thought that he could spend all of his time with his brother when he went, except that when he got there, they weren’t even sorted in the same house, and Regulus had to watch Sirius spend all of his time with James. Regulus was always looking forward to the moment they would go home and he would have Sirius all for himself, except that when they did, the only thing his brother would talk about was how great James was and how he wanted to be with him.
So Regulus’s jealousy soon became hate, which then became obsession, and before Regulus even knew it, this obsession was morphing into attraction, and a few years later, he was writing a multiple pages long letter declaring his love to him.
The worst part is that Regulus doesn’t even like James. Because James is loud, and obnoxious, and annoying, and better than him at Quidditch, which infuriates him, and he stole his brother. Yet, Regulus can’t help it; he gets hot all over whenever James takes his shirt off after a Quidditch match, because obviously he’s the kind of person to shamelessly show off his body every time it’s more than ten degrees outside, and Regulus has to fight a smile when he catches James doing stupid shit across the common room at breakfast, and he’s woken up with a hard-on more than once after an explicit dream involving brown skin, curly dark hair, and glasses. Merlin, the glasses. How can they fit him so well? They should make him look like a dork, yet they only make him look more attractive. And how does James do it, really? How can he be so annoying, and not able to ever read the room, and yet be so enticing? Sometimes, Regulus is so into James that it hates him, and the loop closes. He hates James so much he’s infatuated with him, and he’s attracted to James so much that he wants him dead.
Eventually, when Regulus’s friends are done joking about it, effectively breaking their promises, they succeed in making a plan, which essentially consists of avoiding both Kingsley and James at all costs. Not ideal, but Regulus already felt enough embarrassment for a lifetime.
---------------
Avoiding Kingsley and James proves itself to be easier than expected. None of them are in his house, and they don’t share any classes, so he manages it. However, he hates how it leaves him in a constant state of dread, like he’s expecting one of them to catch him with his guard down at any moment.
To his surprise, Regulus finds that James doesn’t seem that interested in talking to him about it; he can’t help but catch a glance at him once in a while, especially during meals, averting his eyes whenever James looks back. Sometimes, they see each other in corridors before Regulus turns back, and not once has James shown desire to come and talk to him. Which, okay, is theoretically what he wanted, but he can’t hide that he’s just a tiny bit hurt that James doesn’t even think of Regulus as deserving of rejection.
Avoiding Kingsley is at the same time easier and harder, because he doesn’t have a brother liking them and an interest towards him bordering on obsession, so he manages. Nonetheless, there is little doubt that Kingsley got and read his letter, given that every time they see each other, even for a second, Kingsley’s gaze locks onto his and does not falter, which makes Regulus quite confused, because, what? Kingsley could just come over and talk to him about it; having to explain himself again is not ideal, but he’d take it over the confusion he’s living in.
They only have one class together, Potions, the one where they did their common project a year before, and he catches Kingsley turning around on his chair to look at him more than once.
“This is torture,” he tells Dorcas eventually. “It’s not like I can just walk up to him and explain myself. Do you think he enjoys making me suffer?”
Dorcas turns slowly towards him, an eyebrow twitching, and looks at Regulus like he’s the dumbest person she’s ever seen, which he doesn’t appreciate very much, because Regulus is anything but stupid.
“Or maybe he’s just into you, have you ever thought about that?”
And well, no, Regulus had in fact never thought about that. Because there is just no way Kingsley could be into him, right? He was nice to him once, but he’s a Hufflepuff, so he has to be nice to everyone, and he very probably doesn’t like boys, and even if he did, Regulus can’t fathom Kingsley liking him. And anyways, who just stares at them without doing anything when they like someone? Regulus does, but he is deeply emotionally constipated, at least according to his friends, so he has an excuse. Kingsley is social, and charismatic, and very attractive, so he mustn’t be used to rejection, and doesn’t have any reason to think Regulus would reject him. Regulus isn’t that keen on having anything with Kingsley, but he’s still a bit hurt, for the principle.
“He’s not into me,” he answers through clenched teeth.
“Why not? He could be.”
“You don’t even know if he likes boys.”
“Have you seen him? Of course he likes boys.”
Regulus doesn’t bother to answer, simply rolls his eyes like he loves to do, and tries to go on with his day without thinking about it.
He manages it very well, at least for a while; he’s smart enough to understand that neither James nor Kingsley actually has the intention of coming and talking to him, and the latter’s burning gaze can be ignored. So Regulus just goes on with his life, tries not to pay attention to the boy who’s looking at him and the other who he can’t help but look at.
“I’ve got you a date,” Dorcas says sometimes at lunch, and it seems like all of Regulus’s efforts just crumble.
“What?”
“A date. With Kingsley. Told you he was interested,” she winks at him.
“Are you mental? I can’t… I can’t go on a date with him!”
“Don’t worry, I know you’re still head over heels for Potter.”
“I’m not.”
“But Kingsley told me he’s not looking for anything serious. It’s perfect, Reg!”
“How is it perfect?” Regulus pleads, mouth gaping.
“Well, he’s handsome, and sweet, and you like him enough, so.”
The first of Regulus’s thoughts is absolutely not, but he can’t help but think about it just a little more. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’s obviously absolutely not over James, and he desperately needs to be. And Dorcas isn’t wrong, Kingsley is good-looking, and Regulus never thought he’d have a chance, but now he does, so…
He cannot believe he’s ever considering it. A date, really? He can barely admit to himself when he has a crush on someone, so a date… The truth is, Regulus had almost evicted a possible romantic relationship out of his future. It’s not that he doesn’t want it, but he’s absolutely terrible at feelings, and at communicating, and he’s been very fine with yearning from afar as of late. Five years, five crushes, five letters, he’s never acted on any of them and never intended to, because relationships just aren’t something Regulus does. He’s thought about it, in the future, when he’ll be away from everyone, and his family won’t be a bother, but even then, he just can’t imagine it. Every time he tries, he’s unable to portray anything else than curly dark hair, round glasses, and a dazzling smile, so he tries to do so as little as possible.
Yet, Regulus took a decision, a little while ago; he decided his future was his. He decided that he wouldn’t simply be Regulus Black, but that he could be Regulus. Would Regulus like to go on a date with Kingsley? He doesn’t know. He has no idea. But that’s what people do, right? People who aren’t plagued with a mental purist controlling family? They go on dates with people they find attractive to see if it works out. Regulus doesn’t do that. But he could, couldn’t he?
“When?”
He doesn’t even know why he asked, but he did, and he refuses to take it back. It’s mental, he knows it and sees it in the expression of shock covering every single one of his friend’s faces, but he just wants to be stupid and act like a normal teenager.
“Huh,” Dorcas manages to say through her shocked expression, “He mentioned Hogsmeade on Saturday.”
“I’ll be there,” Regulus says before he has the time to think about it, and leaves the table before he can regret it.
---------------
It turns out that Regulus has no idea about what a date is supposed to be. He’s been in front of his open closet for more than thirty minutes, and the date is supposed to be happening two hours later. What is he supposed to wear on a first date? Definitely not his Hogwarts uniform, but he guesses the robes his mother insisted he’s bring for special occasions would make him look stupid. But then, what if Kingsley actually takes this very seriously? It’s not nothing, after all. They’re still expected to make an effort for the other, theoretically. Regulus can imagine Kingsley wearing something like a coloured button-up shirt, looking fit as always, and he doesn’t want to look stupid next to him. But again, he doesn’t want everybody to know he’s going on a date, especially with a man. He doesn’t have a problem with it anymore, thankfully, but he knows not everyone is as open about it that he and his friends.
“We told you,” Barty interrupts his pondering, “a black button-up is perfectly fine.”
“What if he doesn’t like it? If he thinks I’m trying too hard, expecting too much?”
“Salazar, you didn’t even want to go on this date. Does it matter that much?”
Barty isn’t entirely wrong, Regulus wasn’t really keen on the idea at the beginning. Because Regulus is not supposed to go on dates, especially with a Hufflepuff boy. He’s supposed to meet a pureblood woman at a party, court her and then marry her. He doesn’t want that anymore, obviously, but there is still a trace of his family’s expectations lingering with him at all times.
He remembers the goal isn’t to marry Kingsley, considering that he apparently himself told Dorcas he wasn’t looking for anything that serious, which is honestly really relieving. The goal is to have a good time, maybe get a kiss (a terrifying yet thrilling perspective), and get over James.
He does settle on a black button-up with black trousers and begins to leave his room.
“The date isn’t in another two hours,” Pandora remarks.
“I know,” Regulus says before leaving, “I’ve got stuff to do.”
It is, in fact, a lie, because Regulus doesn’t have anything to do except overthink, which is something he would rather be doing on his own.
The second he’s left alone with himself, his head begins to swarm with thoughts. What is he going to talk about? What is he supposed to talk about? He knows he’s not always the most warm-hearted person, so he’s going to have to make an effort. What if he ends up being terribly awkward, and Kingsley doesn’t want to see him ever again? One less problem, he thinks, but Kingsley is sweet, and handsome, and Regulus would like to at least be appreciated by him. What if Kingsley isn’t as nice as he remembers? What if Regulus does something wrong that makes him run away? What if he never actually agreed on a date, and Dorcas understood it wrong? What if this is some sort of prank?
Regulus knows he’s spiralling, so he chooses the first empty classroom he finds to take shelter. He slams the door closed, casts a few silencing spells, and tries to breathe as deep as possible. This isn’t a big deal, he tells himself. It’s just a date. People – not him, but people – do it all of the time.
“Are you alright?”
Regulus can’t help but jump and open his eyes at the voice, because he obviously hadn’t anticipated someone else being in the room when he came in.
And he definitely wasn’t expecting this person to be James Potter.
“Yes,” he answers more aggressively than he should.
“Is something bothering you? Someone?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
“I told you I was alright,” he snaps, effectively proving James right.
“I know some breathing exercises,” James proposes, getting closer, because apparently Gryffindors do not know anything about personal boundaries.
“I don’t need them.”
“Okay,” James simply says, almost quietly, his voice too sweet in Regulus’s ears. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing. Is. Going. On.” Regulus says through clenched teeth.
“You’re dressed nice,” James continues, because he apparently cannot take a hint. “Are you meeting someone?”
“Yes”, Regulus admits, defeated, because he understood he wouldn’t be left alone.
“Who, a professor? Did Slughorn summon you to his office?”
“What? No!” Regulus argues, offended. Does he really seem like that uninteresting that he would put on his nicest shirt for a teacher? “I have a date, if you must know.”
James eyes widen at the revelation, and Regulus doesn’t know how he’s supposed to take the fact that him having a date is that surprising.
“A date? With whom?”
“None of your business.”
“Does Sirius know?”
“I- What? No, obviously Sirius doesn’t know. He’s not responsible for me.”
“Is it one of your Slytherin little friends?”
“My friends aren’t little,” Regulus spits, which earns him a smile from James, “and no, it’s not one of them. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Regulus should leave, he knows it. Being here goes against the very point of the date, but it’s not like he can help it. It’s like James has some sort of power over him, something almost magical, except that it runs way deeper in him. It angers him how James almost seems to care for him, even if it’s probably only due to his undying loyalty for Sirius. Couldn’t he just despise him? It would make everything so much easier for Regulus. But he doesn’t think James has it in his capacity to hate someone, so he’s there, looking at him with his beautiful brown eyes like Regulus is really worth looking at, which almost makes him sick. How can any of his friends bear being looked at this way and not crumble under it?
“If it stresses you out this much, maybe you shouldn’t go.” James eventually says.
“I am not stressed. And what are you doing here anyway?”
“Studying?”
“Didn’t know you had enough brain capacity to do that.”
Regulus aims for offensive, but James apparently registers it as playful, because he barks out a laugh, his eyes glittering. His smile is so ridiculously beautiful, from his full lips to his slightly crooked teeth, and the way the skin around his eyes crinkles along with it is so enticing that it makes Regulus want to vomit.
It makes him think about something he wrote a long time ago, and he’s suddenly plagued by the worry that James is fucking with him because of the letter. He doesn’t seem to be acting any different, though. Regulus finds himself praying that he threw it away before reading it, or the owl got lost or something.
“The offer still stands, by the way.”
“What?”
“The breathing exercises.”
“Oh.”
It registers to Regulus a few seconds too late that he didn’t actually say no, because before he knows it, James is closing the last few steps between them and carefully putting a hand on Regulus’s chest. It makes him wish he could have James’s dark complexion, because the way he’s ridiculously blushing can probably be seen from kilometres. But James doesn’t seem to take notice, simply smiles at him.
“Take a deep breath.”
Regulus is stupid, and weirdly hypnotised, so he does.
“Great, now, expire slowly.”
He does, feeling James's hand going along with the movement of his chest. He’s so close, his face a few centimetres away from Regulus’s, slightly taller, but while Regulus is unable to breathe, James doesn’t seem to find the situation particularly strange.
They breathe together a couple more times, and James is looking at him so intensely that Regulus feels on the verge of passing out. Which is a shame, because he’s usually very put together. He’s never been someone who has a hard time controlling himself, except that James was always the best at unravelling him. Eventually, way too soon, James takes a step back, removes his hand from Regulus’s chest to roam it through his hair. Regulus is burning to ask if he got the letter, but James is smiling at him with nothing unusual in his eyes, so he settles on the thought that something happened to it, just so he can leave his state of worry.
“That’s it?” He manages to speak through choked air.
“Yeah,” James laughs, so effortlessly charming. “Pretty much. Did it work?”
“Yeah, yeah. Perfect. Thanks.”
This time, Regulus doesn’t linger, feeling like he’s about to drown in James’s presence, and promptly leaves the room, his heart beating a hundred times faster than before. So much for getting over James Potter.
---------------
Regulus is only twenty minutes early at the Three Broomsticks, which is fine because he has the time to order a butterbeer and choose where he wants to sit—he settles for a booth at the back of the pub, in a place where he can see what is going on in the pub, but which guarantees a minimum of privacy, and where he’s going to be facing Kingsley, because he thinks that’s what people do when they go on dates.
Kingsley doesn’t arrive long enough after Rosmerta brings him his drink.
“Sorry,” he says as he settles in front of Regulus, dark skin glistening under the pub’s lights, “Am I late?”
“No, no, I was early.”
Kingsley smiles at him, and the conversation picks up from here, less awkward than Regulus expected. It’s nothing profound, really, mostly about classes and teachers, and Kingsley speaks of his friends a few times, which prompts Regulus to do the same. He’s not the most comfortable, but Kingsley is a great conversationalist, and he’s funnier than he remembered, so everything seems to be going well.
“Your letter was quite sweet,” he eventually mentions, and Regulus feels all the blood in his body rushing to his face.
“Hm, yeah, thank you. You weren’t supposed to get it, actually, but yeah.”
“I wasn’t?” Kingsley asks, his eyebrows raised.
“No, not really. But it doesn’t mean I’m not happy you’re here! I’m very glad, actually. I just, I wrote it a long time ago, so, yeah.”
“Okay,” Kingsley smiles, and Regulus is glad he isn’t picking up how awkward he is acting, because he’s definitely going to have to get himself together eventually. “And, Dorcas told me she mentioned I wasn’t looking for anything serious?”
“Yeah, she did. I’m not, huh, looking for that either, so.”
“It’s not that you don’t seem really nice, because you do, it’s just, I’m just out of a relationship, so I don’t think I’m ready to settle again.”
“It’s fine, really. Better, if anything. I’ve never been on a date, so it makes it a little less stressful.”
Regulus forces himself to look at Kingsley and stop fiddling with his hands.
“You’ve never been on a date before?”
“No, not really. I mean, no. Never been asked.”
“Never?” Kingsley’s eyebrows fly up again, which makes Regulus feel a bit better, because it must mean that he hasn’t picked up on Regulus’s nervousness that much.
“So; why aren’t you looking for anything serious?”
Regulus could lie. He could simply say that he’s not the relationship kind of person, that he’s just looking for a bit of fun, but there is something in Kingsley that makes him feel safe. And they’re not friends, not really, so he somehow feels like his words have fewer consequences. Regulus never thought he’d ever say it about someone, but he’s glad Kingsley is a Hufflepuff, because it probably makes him less likely to mock him.
“I’m trying to get over someone, actually.”
Kingsley’s eyes begin to sparkle, and Regulus senses he wants in the gossip, even if he has no idea that it’s probably more than he expects. But Regulus can’t say it, can he? I’m head over heels for my best friend’s brother, who’s terribly stupid, and deathly handsome, and very probably straight, even though he put his hands on my chest a few hours ago?
Regulus has no idea what to say, but he opens his mouth anyways, because the silence is beginning to linger, but before he can say anything, he’s cut off by the sight of his brother, accompanied by all of his friends, including the one who has an ironclad grip on Regulus’s heart. He tries to regain his composure, but he’s apparently not fast enough, because Kingsley immeditaly catches where he’s looking at and turns around to share the sight. Regulus is about to say something to justify himself, saying that he looked at his brother, of just any lie, but Kingsley speaks before Regulus has the chance to do so.
“James Potter, really?”
Merlin, Salazar, is he really that obvious? Is he walking around with I’m terribly into James Potter written on his face?
“It’s stupid, I know.”
“No, I get it. He’s really good-looking.” Kingsley doesn’t seem shocked at the revelation, which Regulus really appreciates. “And he’s friends with your brother, so maybe it could help?”
Regulus can’t help but laugh, because if anything, the fact that James and Sirius are friends would be enough to abort any tentative romance.
“It’s more complicated than that, unfortunately.”
Regulus can’t help but look over at his brother’s table, and his heart skips a bit when he sees James already looking at him. His gaze does not falter, the beginning of a smile on his lips, and Regulus remembers that James is aware he’s on a date. He takes everything in him to rip his eyes from James to focus on the man in front of him.
Kingsley doesn’t linger, unfortunately, and the conversation picks up again. Kingsley shares a few anecdotes with previous dates, and Regulus feels brave enough to tell him about the other letters—not James’, obviously, but Kingsley seems to find it quite entertaining. Regulus doesn’t quite manage to ignore the burning looks James sends him from his side of the pub, but he’s eventually relaxed enough to really have a good time.
After a while, they get up to leave together, and Regulus almost thinks they’re going to be able to leave without Sirius talking to him, before he hears a shout of his name across the pub. Regulus doesn’t want Kingsley to think he’s a psycho who has to run away from his brother, so he walks up to him slowly, his jaw clenched.
“Didn’t think I’d see you there,” Sirius simply tells him, fiddling with a cigarette, one of Remus’s hands on his thigh.
“Well, I am.”
The silence is almost long enough to be awkward before Sirius speaks again.
“And who’s your friend?”
“Kingsley,” he answers, stretching a hand out to shake Sirius’s, oblivious to Regulus’s discomfort. Already meeting the family, really?
“You’re not a Slytherin, are you?’”one of Sirius’s friends asks, a curly-haired girl—Mary, Regulus thinks.
“No, Hufflepuff, actually.”
“More open-minded than I thought, Regulus,” Sirius laughs.
Regulus can’t help himself but look to where James is seated, to find him looking at the bottom of his glass, ignoring Regulus so blatantly that it makes him wonder if their previous looks were a figment of his imagination.
“Yeah, well, we’re leaving. See you later.”
Regulus doesn’t wait for an answer, takes Kingsley by the arm, and leaves the pub. His date is polite enough not to mention the tense atmosphere, and their conversation continues soon enough.
Regulus isn’t brave enough to offer to walk Regulus to his dorm, but it doesn’t end up mattering, because Kingsley walks with him to the portrait leading to Slytherin’s common room.
“I had a great time,” he says eventually, his orange shirt reflecting beautifully on his skin under the dim light of the corridor.
“Me too,” Regulus answers, praying the lighting hides the crimson colour of his cheek. “Thank you.”
Kingsley smiles at him, Regulus returns it, and they’re close enough, and alone, and Regulus knows what’s about to happen. He could stop it, he knows Kingsley wouldn’t be offended, could go back to his dorm and forget all about it, but he feels crazy enough not to do so.
Kingsley leans forward, puts a hand on Regulus’s jaw, and kisses him. It’s sweet, and soft enough so that Regulus doesn’t feel too inexperienced. He grips Kingsley’s waist, because it feels awkward with his limbs hanging, and because Barty told him to do so when he kissed him. It doesn’t really last long, and Regulus is relieved to see that the corridor is still empty when they pull apart. They agree to meet up again sometimes, share a flustered goodbye, and Regulus has to fight a smile as he goes back to his dorm.
He hates himself for it, but James is the first thing that comes to his mind when he’s left alone. He doesn’t think Kingsley would be offended over it, so he allows himself to wonder how it would feel to kiss James. He thinks he would probably have to stand on his tiptoes a little, because James is taller than Kingsley. Regulus would for sure try to run his fingers through his hair, to see if they are as soft as they look. He doesn’t have enough experience to know if the glasses would get in the way, but he guesses they wouldn’t.
He doesn’t allow himself to think about it much more, and focuses on Kingsley again. Kingsley is understanding and, admittedly, has a great sense of humour, and he knows about James, so there is no reason it could go wrong. Maybe Regulus is the kind of person who can just have a little bit of fun with someone after all.