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Summary
"What?" Regulus jabs his wand into the underside of James' jaw.
Despite this, James grins. "Love, I've faced Voldemort himself. I don't let myself be pinned against a wall unless that's where I want to be. As it stands, I'm quite fond of the murderous look in your pretty eyes and don't mind having it directed towards me."
There's an incredulous laugh. Barty says, "Oh, you and I have more in common than I thought, Potter."
-- ☆ --
The war is over. James has bruises on his soul and a forlorn innocence, but he survived.
The wizarding world is a tangled mess of mourning heroes and redeeming villains.
And two of those villains are dancing in a muggle pub and looking good. One of them is supposed to be dead, and the other is supposed to be in Azkaban.
James shouldn't, he really shouldn't, but... well, he's never been particularly talented at doing what he should.