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Regulus turned the key in the lock, and was only half-surprised to find it was already open. He let out a tiny sigh, then stepped into the shop. One of the back lights was on, and he flicked on the main shop lights, wincing a bit because he still had a left-over headache from the night before. His wrist was itching like hell, his latest tattoo in the awful peeling stage which he both loved and hated—and was too used to since a good percentage of his body was covered in ink.
He’d done this one himself, an intricate, hyper-realistic sunflower stretched across a space just beneath his elbow, on the side of his forearm. Resisting the urge to pick at it—in spite of tattooing people for the better part of the last six years, Regulus still had to resist the urges to peel at the flaking skin—he busied himself with checking inventory, unlocking the safe for any cash customers, then looking over the appointment book.
After a while, the back door squeaked open, and his brother strolled out, his motorbike boots clunking loudly on the polished tile, making Regulus wince. “Another?”
Regulus shrugged. “You know how it is. What are you doing back there?”
It was a redundant question based on the smear of blue paint across Sirius’ dark-olive skin. His hair was pulled back into a knot at the back of his head, streaks of yellow in the few coarse strands that hung down round his temples, making it clump together. Regulus had a sudden thought—bright yellow hair would actually suit his brother.
He smiled to himself as he pulled out some of his tracing paper, preparing to get a few things done for the walk-in book.
“I have a showing next week,” Sirius said as he reached down into the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of what looked like sludge. He took a sip of his drink and grinned.
“I cannot believe you drink that shit cold,” Regulus said, eyeing the qahwa turkiyeh with distrust. “Mum is probably rolling in her grave.”
“Good,” Sirius said with a wolfish grin. “You know it’s my eternal goal to make sure her soul knows no rest.”
“Bismillah, get me through this day,” Regulus muttered. “Are you going to be at the shop all day?”
“Who else is coming in?” Sirius asked, taking another drink of the coffee before shoving back into the fridge.
Regulus shrugged. “Benjy at noon, I think—taking all the walk-ins, and I’ll be here until tea. I think Nym might have a couple of clients, but she’s only appointments for the rest of the week.”
“Tolerable,” Sirius said, hopping over the counter and walking toward the window. “I’ll be here until Remus is out of work, then we’ve got a date.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, but mostly out of a quiet place of jealousy because he envied his brother for many things—falling in love being one of them. Regulus had always been a bit more stoic—more hesitant to disobey his parents, even when he knew he was not straight, and didn’t believe in a lot of the things they did. He’d been afraid to branch out too far from his studies at University, until he finished his Master’s and realised he didn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps. He wasn’t interested in politics or anything of that nature.
He was an artist. He wanted to be as free as Sirius was, and not conform to what the rest of the world thought he should be. He was tired of being a polite person only valid in his brown skin because he followed their rules about it.
It took until his mother’s death though. Until the safety bubble of University had popped—almost viciously, and he was shown that the world was a cruel, unforgiving place. When he was outside of the protective walls of a life which let people pander to him because he was young, and still educating himself, and still in a place where the people in power had to be a little kinder.
The moment he set foot outside of that, and realised the world didn’t care who he was, the world didn’t care where he’d come from, or what he wanted from life, and he’d have to fight just as hard as any other person—that’s when it changed. And he started doing things for himself.
It had taken him a while to open up the tattoo shop. He took his skills with art and apprenticed in a few shops, and eventually was encouraged to branch out on his own. He used what little inheritance he had left, and Heart of the Lion tattoo shop was born.
Which was where he’d been now for three years and six months. And he did well. And for the most part, he was happy.
But watching his brother in a comfortable, happy relationship reminded him of what he didn’t have. Of how he’d too closely guarded his heart. Of how he’d been a bit mean if only to avoid becoming vulnerable and taken apart by heart-break—because he wasn’t sure he could take it. But it was a lonely decision, and he was beginning to feel true regret.
“…and we’re going to head down to Cornwall after that if you want to come along.”
Regulus blinked, realising that Sirius was still talking, and he pretended he’d been listening the entire time. “Ah. Maybe, but I’m not sure I can get anyone to cover me.”
“You always say that. You’re going to waste away here.” Sirius rolled his eyes back to the window, then let out a curious hum. “Look. Someone’s got those premises across the street.”
Regulus looked up from his tracing pad and peered past his brother’s shoulder. “Oh. What is it?”
“Dunno. No sign up or anything. It looks like…there’s some delivery of…” Sirius pressed his face to the window, making Regulus groan since he’d have to clean the smudges off. “Oh. Flowers. I think it’s a florist.”
Regulus raised a brow. “Curious place for a florist.”
“Maybe you can do business together,” Sirius replied, turning and winking. “Buy a bouquet, get ten percent off your ink. You could do Valentine’s day sales.”
“You’re an idiot,” Regulus muttered, going back to his work. He stilled briefly as he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“You always say that. Anyway, come get me if you need me.”
“Mm,” Regulus hummed, and didn’t look up as Sirius left the room.
***
It was a full week before the flower shop opened. Regulus, Tonks, Remus, and Sirius were all sat on the shop’s worn but comfortable sofa near the window when the sign illuminated.
“Fleur de Lis,” Sirius read out, then scrunched up his nose. “Oh god, do you think they’re French?”
“Probably not,” Remus said with an eyeroll.
“I hate French people,” Sirius grumbled.
“We know,” Tonks said. “Although you can’t just say you hate French people…”
“They’re racist,” Sirius said. “Remember when we were there last year and that bloke on the metro said that shit to Moony because he had on his kippah and…”
“I’m not listening to this rant again,” Regulus interrupted, seeing the annoyed look on Remus’ face. “I’m sure even if they are French, they’re perfectly nice and honestly more business there means more people will see the shop and I could do with a little more business.”
No one could argue that, and they continued to watch until, after a moment, an incredibly fit man with dark brown skin and wild hair strolled out. Indian, Regulus assumed by the deep purple kurta which hung just above his knees. He was also so damn good looking it made his mouth go dry and eyes widen—something he didn’t hide quick enough from his brother.
“We’re going to say hi,” Sirius said, grabbing Regulus’ hand and pulling him toward the door. Regulus spluttered a protest, but honestly the thought of actually getting to meet the ridiculous, god-like man stood in front of his new shop, was too good to pass up.
Sirius barely checked for traffic before barrelling across the road, and waved an over-enthusiastic hello as he approached. “New shop, eh? You’re not French, are you?”
“Sirius,” Regulus hissed, elbowing him.
The man blinked, then laughed quietly. “Er no. I’m Tamilian. And English.”
“Thank god, I hate the French,” Sirius whinged. “But I suppose if you were, you seem alright.”
The man chuckled again, extending a hand out which Sirius took first, then Regulus who felt like he might have swallowed his tongue in the face of someone so good looking. “Nice to meet you. I’m James, and yeah this is my shop.”
“Sirius. And this is my brother Regulus. He owns Heart of the Lion.”
“Tattoo shop?” James asked, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand. He glanced over, then smiled back at Regulus who felt like his heart was going to stop. His smile was…well it could be fatal, Regulus was sure. “You do the work there?”
“Some of it,” Regulus said, finally finding his tongue. He cleared his throat and blinked a few times.
“He’s lying. He does most of it, and he’s brilliant.” Sirius shoved up the sleeve of his tunic shirt and displayed the galaxy and nebula themed sleeve Regulus was still working on.
James’ eyes went wide. “That’s…gorgeous,” he breathed.
Regulus’ face went white-hot. “Thanks.”
“You have any?” Sirius asked.
James shook his head, that sweet smile returning. “No. But I’ve always thought I might. Some day.”
“Well now you know where to go,” Sirius said, nudging Regulus who felt like a twat for saying less than ten words, but it wasn’t so often he met someone so…so…
“…need flowers, you know where to come as well, yeah?” James was saying.
Regulus felt the corners of his lips twitch upward. “Right. Yeah.”
“I do hope you’ll stop in and say hello,” James urged.
“Oh he will,” Sirius said. “I mean, I’ve got a lot going on. My boyfriend and I are trying to get this gallery thing up and running, but Regulus is quite social. Once he gets over the first, awkward meeting.”
James chuckled and Regulus fought back a murderous desire to end his brother’s miserable life right there. “I’m looking forward to it. See you around?”
“Count on it,” Regulus said, determined to have the last word over Sirius, though it gave him little joy since Sirius looked immediately triumphant.
The brothers went back across the street and into the shop where Sirius flung himself onto Remus’ lap for a kiss. Nym laughed as Regulus rolled his eyes, unable to tear himself away from his spot by the window where he could now see James just inside, sorting things at the counter.
He was about to say something when he saw a woman with long red hair and olive skin come out from the shadows. She was grinning, saying something to James, then leant in and kissed his cheek before heading out.
“Oh,” Regulus muttered to himself.
“A cheek kiss means nothing,” Sirius said, seeing the look on Regulus’ face. “He was into you, I could tell.”
“You’re an idiot,” Regulus said, but really what he meant was, I sincerely hope so.
***
Regulus caught several glimpses of James, even catching his eye a time or two and shared a few brilliant smiles which made his heart pound and ears ring a bit. But they didn’t get a chance to speak until nearly two weeks later when the door dinged open, and James walked in.
Regulus had just finished up with a client, and was putting everything away when he looked up, startled to see the florist there.
“Are you busy?” James asked.
“Not at all. Just finished up my only appointment for the afternoon,” Regulus replied. “Why, did you…you don’t want erm…?”
“Oh,” James said and laughed. “No I just thought I’d come and say hi. It’s been mad over there. Lily and I have been completely snowed under and I finally got a chance to breathe. I didn’t think I’d be this busy, you know?”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Regulus asked, feeling his insides ache a bit at the mention of Lily.
“Well, yeah,” James said, then lowered himself to the sofa, though he watched Regulus carefully as he put away his tattoo machine, wrapping the wires carefully. “I guess it’s…there’s that funny moment when you decide to go into business with your ex and you think, we’re friends, we can make this work. And you think being busy will make it easier to deal with, but instead the stress just puts you at each other’s throats.”
Ex. Regulus wanted to dance and sing, though he kept his composure. “Well I wouldn’t know about that. The very few ex’s I do have steer clear of me.”
“That intimidating, are you?” James asked with a wink. He leant forward and grabbed one of the design books off the low table, flipping to the first page.
Regulus huffed, then grabbed his coffee and came round to perch on the far side of the sofa. “More like Sirius is a huge pain in the arse and thinks his brand of being over-protective is a good thing. Not that I’d want to be friends with any of them, really. They were all mistakes.”
“Were they French?” James asked.
Regulus blinked in confusion, then laughed, shaking his head. “Oh that. No. Sirius is just…he holds grudges. And when he and his boyfriend went on holiday they met with a few rude citizens on the metro. Said a few choice phrases to Remus and Sirius sort of…well let’s just say I never thought I’d have to get my brother out of a foreign prison, but now that got ticked off my bucket list. Anyway he wants to blame the whole damn country because with Sirius, it’s go big or go home.”
James laughed. “I could tell. He was…enthusiastic. But nice.”
“Oh just wait. You’ll rescind that last statement soon enough.”
James grinned, then peered over into Regulus’ mug. “And that is…?”
“Qahwa turkiyeh. Turkish coffee. Strong, but delicious. Don’t let Sirius ever offer you any though. He drinks it cold,” Regulus pulled a face, then offered over his cup to James who took a drink, eyes going wide.
“Wow that’s…I. Wow.”
Regulus chuckled as he took the cup back. “Yeah.”
“It’s like, I don’t know if I like it, but I want more.”
“Come over in the morning some time. I always have some to spare.” Regulus fell silent, and James went back to flicking through the book.
“So you do all these?”
“Not all,” Regulus said. “My brother’s done a few to add to our design book, though he doesn’t tattoo. But his art is brilliant. Benjy, our other artist, he does quite a lot, and my cousin Nymphadora. She only works on appointment though, but I could show you her book if you like.”
James shook his head, smiling. “I’d rather see yours.”
Which was what led James and Regulus to sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Regulus’ photo book spread out between them. James flicked through the pages, letting out the occasional noise of awe, glancing at Regulus with an expression as though he couldn’t quite believe the work on the page were actual tattoos.
“You’re…amazing,” James said as they reached the end of the book. He reached out, almost absently, and brushed his hand along Regulus’ arm. “You do these?”
Regulus nodded. “Yeah. This is my newest.” He twisted his arm to display the sunflower. “Still healing though.”
“That’s…” James looked back up at Regulus. “Well I think it’s fitting someone as beautiful as you would have such beautiful artwork.”
Regulus blinked, unsure what to say and pretty sure if it was possible to lose his voice completely, well James had figured out the way. He eventually took a breath. “Thanks.”
James grinned. “You bet. Anyway, I should get back and relieve Lily before she tries to murder me but…maybe stop in some time? Say hi?”
“I will,” Regulus swore.
James smiled. “Good. See you round, Reggie.”
For some reason, the nickname he’d always hated, coming off James lips, suddenly sounded like poetry, and Regulus couldn’t help but wonder what it would sound like breathed in a whisper, into his ear, with their bodies wrapped up together.
***
Regulus didn’t pluck up the courage to head over to Fleur de Lis for another three days. When he did, it was after making two cups of coffee, to use as an excuse. Also because he’d seen Lily go, and he just wasn’t quite ready to try and chat James up in front of his ex.
But knowing he was alone, Regulus took the chance. He flicked the closed sign on, checked for traffic, then darted over and slipped through the open door.
Regulus, for all he adored flowers, didn’t frequent florist shops often, and he was almost overwhelmed by the immediate smell. It wasn’t suffocating, but there was so much variety, so much almost crispness of the fresh cut blossoms in the air, his head spun. He couldn’t pick out one from the other, and he found himself wanting to be immersed in it.
It took him a moment to find James, who was inside their large refrigerated case that was filled with vases of roses, and he waved when the florist looked up. James’ grin was wide, sunny, and excited as he quickly set down his clipboard and came out.
“Hey there,” James said. “I didn’t think you were actually going to come by.”
Regulus flushed. “Sorry, I got a bit tied up. But I was free this morning and thought you might want some coffee?”
James took the cup gratefully, and beckoned Regulus to a seat behind the counter where they could sit and James could still see the front of the shop. They started to drink, slipping into conversation as easily as two people who had known each other for ages, and Regulus found himself so gone so fast, it was a wonder he’d ever hesitated.
“…so he’s six, you know. And let me tell you, trying to find dates who are alright with me having a kid is…” James shook his head. “I think it’s easier that I share custody with Lils, but the last four dates, apparently was a deal-breaker that I was a parent.”
“That’s dreadful,” Regulus said, pulling a face. He honestly had no opinions either way on children. He never considered having any of his own, but he never thought he’d be the person to turn someone down for parenting. “People truly are rubbish.”
“You said it.” James lifted his cup in the air. “Anyway, Harry’s just like my family. Penchant for dramatics, loves massive events, and probably has some of the most morbid sense of humour of anyone I’ve ever met. Which I suppose happens when you’ve seen six family members cremated by the time you’re four.”
Regulus snorted, shaking his head. “You’re in good company, I promise. My family was so…dark and depressing, if you didn’t develop some sort of humour about it, you wouldn’t survive it. And trust me I understand the dramatics. Although I prefer to avoid them when I can.”
James smiled. “There’s no hope with mine, mate. My family’s so big, it’s unavoidable. We have family in North India, and my mum’s attempting to plan a trip there which will be…” James shuddered. “An experience.”
Regulus smiled softly, wondering what it would be like to have a family like that. For all the dramatics his had, they weren’t warm and soft at all. It was rather a miracle he, Sirius, and Nym had turned out as alright as they had. But James seemed to come from a different world, in a way, you could tell by looking at him just how loved he’d always been, and it was almost addicting.
Regulus realised he’d been staring without talking for some time, and he cleared his throat. “So ah. Florist. What’s your favourite, since you’re the expert and all?”
James’ smile softened, and he got up, wandering over to a small display, and came back with the smallest, blue flower. He displayed it to Regulus as he sat back down, but didn’t hand it over. “Vergissmeinnicht,” he said and when Regulus’ eyes widened, he winked. “It’s a forget-me-not. I love the way they look when added to a bouquet. Small enough to go unnoticed, only when you remove them, you feel like something’s missing.” He stroked one of the small petals. “They mean quite a lot of things. Growing affection between two people. Loyalty.” James leant forward, and very carefully, slipped the flower into the side of Regulus’ hair. “True and undying love.”
Regulus swallowed thickly, and reached up to brush the flower gently without dislodging it. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” James said. He stared at Regulus another long moment, and before the artist lost his courage, he reached out, and closed his hand over James’ wrist.
“I was thinking…if you’re interested we could um…”
“I am,” James blurted, then grinned unabashedly. “I am interested. If you’re asking me out, that is.”
Regulus let out a nervous laugh, then nodded. “I’m trying to, anyway. But every time you smile at me my heart starts thumping and my tongue refuses to co-operate.”
James grinned, then reached up his free hand to lightly cup Regulus’ cheek. “In that case, I’d better teach you the flower language. You know, for when your words fail you.”
Regulus swallowed, unconsciously leaning into the hand, and he nodded. “Okay.”
James’ smile was even wider. “I’d like to kiss you know, if it’s not too soon?”
“Not too soon,” Regulus echoed, leaning in slightly, unable to take his eyes off James’ mouth.
There was a moment, just a beat, and then they were connected. Regulus was never sure who moved first, though it wasn’t important. The important part was they were kissing, gently and carefully, it all so new and wanted but frightening in a way. James’ hand moved from Regulus’ cheek to the back of his neck, and Regulus let go of James’ wrist to clutch him around the ribs and tug him forward, and after a long while, they broke apart.
James’ breathing was hitched slightly as he pulled back, then he carefully got up, grabbed something from another bouquet, and passed it to Regulus. It was a soft, purplish-pink flower in a strange shape Regulus wasn’t sure he’d seen before. The smell was light, but wonderful as he held it to his nose.
“Sweet-pea,” James said, and brushed the backs of his knuckles along Regulus’ cheek. “Means thank you.”
Regulus laughed, and reached out to tug James forward, kissing him once more. “So does that,” he murmured against James’ mouth when he pulled away just enough to speak. “And it also means a promise of more, if you’ll have me.”
James shifted, pushing their foreheads together, the tips of their noses rubbing and he smiled. “Yeah, Reggie. I’ll definitely have you.”