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“Wait, wait, hold up.” James raises his hand to stop him, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy. Regulus instantly gets the urge to kiss him. This sight always does that to him. “Which match are you talking about again?”
“The match tomorrow." Regulus elaborates. "Brazil versus Argentina.”
James blinks at him, gets up from the bed and points at himself. “I’m Brazilian.” He announces and then starts pacing in his hotel room.
Forget wanting to kiss him, Regulus isn’t really sure how his eye doesn’t twitch.
Slowly, he says, “Yes, James, I’m very well aware of that. I’ve known you for half of my life.”
“No, Regulus, I– I’m playing in that match against Argentina.”
“I’m aware of that too. You’re Brazil’s star player and a team captain.” Regulus huffs out and gets up from the bed to move towards James and stop him before he breaks the floorboards from walking back and forth like Regulus just told him that the world is ending. He grabs him by his arms and forces him to turn around, taking a proper look at his panicked face. “Why are you acting like you’re about to be burnt at the stake, James?”
“You just told me you’re going to be a referee of the game where I’m also playing. How can I act like I’m not about to be burnt at the stake?” James stresses, his eyes full of terror.
Now, Regulus has to admit, seeing James this worried is weird for him, simply because out of the two of them, it’s always him who’s constantly stressing, even if he’s very good at hiding it. Of course James gets anxious too sometimes, but that’s mainly when his thoughts start going way too fast for him, which results in him spiraling. When that happens, Regulus is always there to help him by talking him down, a complete opposite of what he needs when it happens to him (just a few hours of silence as he completely shuts down and manages to gather his thoughts by himself, but a cuddle from James doesn’t hurt either).
Regulus has seen James anxious, probably more than anyone ever has. Well, maybe except for Sirius, but he and James have been best friends for years, since they were just amateur football players. At least until they finally proved their talent and potential, and made their way into prestigious clubs side by side, along with Remus and Peter. Those four, and especially James and Sirius, have been inseparable for over a decade already and Regulus doesn’t think anything will ever change that. He doesn’t count the fact that sometimes they do have to compete against each other during tournaments like the Champions League and the World cup. This time, it’s the latter.
Regulus has to admit, it’s always so fun to watch James and Sirius playing for different teams and competing against each other because somehow they never really do it right. It’s been years and Regulus still doesn’t let James live it down how during one of the matches he got a red card for punching his own teammate in the face, simply because he tripped Sirius and then said that Sirius was overreacting when in reality he almost broke his fucking leg.
When Lily interviewed James after the match, the latter just shrugged and grinned sheepishly. To be completely fair, he did apologise publicly for losing his temper, but Regulus knows him well enough to know that James didn’t regret his actions even for a second. In private, James proudly admitted that his teammate had it coming not only because it was Sirius whom he had hurt, but also because he’s a massive fucking cunt. James almost threw a party when he got kicked off the national team.
Okay, he’s getting sidetracked here.
The point is, other than Sirius, Regulus is the only person who knows James better than James knows himself. Regulus knows what he needs when he’s happy, when he’s sad, when he’s spiraling, when he’s anxious and so on. And because Regulus knows him that well, it’s usually never difficult for him to figure out how to give James what he needs and how to help him.
This time though?
Yeah no, this time Regulus can’t for the life of him figure out what’s wrong.
“James.” Regulus continues only when he’s sure that he has James’ undivided attention. “Why are you spiraling right now?”
“My husband is going to be a referee of one of my matches at the World Cup, that’s why.” James says and genuinely looks like he’s a second away from ripping his hair out of his scalp. Well, Regulus can’t let that happen, not when he’s very fond of his husband’s messy curls.
“It’s not the end of the world, James. The committee doesn’t even know that we’re married.” Regulus shrugs and tugs him back so they can sit down on the bed again. “That’s the reason why we decided to keep our relationship a secret, remember? So it wouldn’t complicate things at work.”
James frowns at him. “You know that wasn’t the reason why we made that decision.”
“Okay, fine, one of the reasons.” Regulus rolls his eyes, even though it’s fair.
There are multiple reasons why they haven’t announced their relationship to the world and one of them is that it might complicate things in their career, but the main reason is Sirius’ reaction. Not that Regulus really cares if his brother decides to throw a tantrum about it like an unreasonable child, but he knows how much it would affect James, so he didn’t hesitate for a second and agreed when James asked him if they could wait for a bit before telling everyone that they were together.
They’ve been together since the previous World Cup, which is a long time to be keeping a relationship and marriage a secret, if you ask Regulus, but he tends not to think too much about it. Plus, Regulus’ friends already know, so it’s not that big of a deal for him. They will announce it to everyone else when they feel like the time is right. It’s not like their personal life is anyone’s business but their own, and that includes Sirius as well, especially when they both know that he might bite their heads off when he finds out. Regulus can not be bothered to deal with all that right now.
James blows out a breath so deep that it makes his cheeks round up like a chipmunk before he sinks against the headboard of the bed, clearly defeated, and looks over at Regulus tiredly.
“Why did they choose you for this match?”
“It was either this or France versus Spain.” Regulus shrugs and reaches to take James’ hand, gently running his fingers across his knuckles and veins. Then he leans down and presses a multiple loving kiss against his tanned skin. If he has a thing for James’ hands, well, can anyone blame him?
James smiles softly at the tenderness and asks, “Because your brother is playing for France?”
“Not really, no. They simply remembered that the fact that I’ve been living in England for half of my life doesn’t change that I’m still French. Sirius being my brother had little to nothing to do with that decision.” When he looks over at his husband, he knows that the latter chuckles because of the mischievous sparkle Regulus definitely has in his eyes. “Plus, Sirius won’t even be playing in the match because he decided to be an idiot and flip the referee off during the previous one.”
“Oh, come on, the referee was totally favouring the other team. It was deserved.” James, being the supportive friend and Sirius’ ride-or-die that he is, immediately jumps to his defense.
Regulus stares at him blankly. “He got a red card, James.”
“And he did it proudly!”
“Yeah, right.” Regulus deadpans. “That’s why he was benched during that match and now he’s going to sit out the semi-final because of it too. I bet he’s gonna do that proudly as well.”
James shakes his head with a warm smile on his face and shifts on the bed, pushing Regulus down and then sprawling on top of him, drawing a small huff out of him. When he gets comfortable, he buries his face in the crook of Regulus’ neck, humming in content when his husband slides his hand in his hair and starts playing with the messy strands.
“Does Barty still hate my guts?” He mumbles against Regulus’ throat after a few minutes of silence.
Regulus has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. “Do you want me to answer as your husband or as his best friend?”
“Somewhere in-between?” Regulus doesn’t have to see his face to know that he has a sheepish grin on his face.
“Brazil defeated Italy four to one. You scored twice and Frank scored once because of your assist.” He points out and tugs at James’ hair to stop him from talking when he feels the latter opening his mouth to interrupt. “And Barty got a yellow card because you two started arguing.”
James pulls away, his eyes wide and offence clear on his face. “That was not my fault!” Regulus arches in eyebrow without saying a word, watching as his husband purses his lips and grumbles, “It’s not my fault he’s still butthurt about you turning him down years ago.”
“And did you really have to bring that up in the middle of the World Cup match?”
“He kept insisting that it was offside.” James rolls his eyes and settles back down on Regulus’ chest, his head tucked under the latter’s chin. “Which it wasn’t, by the way. I’m just that good at helping my teammates score.”
“You and your football pitch sized ego, James Potter.” Regulus tuts and continues softly playing with his hair.
“I’m just saying, Barty could learn a thing or two from me.”
Regulus flicks at his ear, making James let out a small yelp. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about. Choose your words carefully.”
“You constantly bully my best friend!”
“I get a pass.” Regulus shrugs, clearly unbothered. “Your best friend is my brother.”
James can’t seem to come up with a good response to that, so he mutters something under his breath in Portuguese and tucks himself so close to Regulus that it would make someone think that he’s trying to crawl under his husband’s skin so he can live there forever.
“Do you think we have a chance against Argentina tomorrow?” James asks after a few minutes and it’s not difficult for Regulus to recognise a hint of anxiety and uncertainty in his voice. It makes his heart clench painfully in his chest. “I mean, it's the semi-finals and I don’t want us to lose this close to the final, but I just– I don’t know, I’m worried, Reg.” He breathes out. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s going to be an intense match.” Regulus tells him truthfully, because he has never lied to his husband and he doesn’t plan to start now. “You’re going against a very strong team, but that doesn’t automatically mean that you’re going to lose. I know you, and your entire team, are going to give it your all, so.” He presses a small kiss against the top of James’ head. “However, try your best not to spiral in the middle of the game, okay? It always affects your performance.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” James responds and it’s easy to hear a small smile in his voice.
“Oh and also, just so you know, there’s no way in hell I’m going to be even a little bit biased tomorrow simply because you’re playing.” Regulus tells him without a trace of amusement in his voice. He sounds as serious as he always does before the matches. “I will give you a card if you deserve it.”
“I highly doubt that because I’m going to be on my best behaviour.” James announces confidently.
Regulus hums. “Right…”
– ☀ ★ –
Around fifty-five minutes into the match, Regulus blows the whistle again and raises a yellow card, pointing at Mulciber, who looks at him with wide eyes.
“What?! Why?!” He yells, having the fucking audacity to step over Frank and jog over to Regulus, immediately starting to explain how he hasn’t done anything at all.
Regulus rolls his eyes and points at Frank who is still on the ground, gripping his leg and shaking his head at whatever James is telling him, his entire face scrunched up in pain. “You tripped him.”
“I was trying to get to the ball!” Mulciber looks like he’s about to blow steam out of his ears. Regulus can take a wild guess that he’s more mad about the fact that Regulus ruined his perfect chance to score than he is about getting a yellow card.
“You kicked him in the shin and then took off with the ball when he went down.” Regulus deadpans.
As Mulciber continues ranting about how unfair he’s being, Regulus tries to ignore the way his hands start to itch to give Mulciber a red card. He told James that he’d remain unbiased and, even though he mainly said that about James, that is still what he’s planning to do, but that doesn’t change that he despises Mucliber with his entire being and would love nothing more than to kick him off the pitch.
Unfortunately for him, he can’t give Mulciber a red card unless the man himself gives Regulus a valid reason to do it.
Fortunately for him, Mulciber is an idiot who never knows when to shut up and go back to the game with his tail between his legs.
“You fucking son of a bitch!” He shouts loudly enough that he draws other players’ attention to them as he slams his hands against Regulus’ chest, pushing him back with such force that Regulus almost trips over his own feet and falls down on the ground.
“Oh, you just dug your own grave.” Regulus hisses under his breath and slaps Mulciber’s hands off of him, taking a step back when the latter does the opposite, still trying to get in Regulus’ face while cursing the living daylights out of him.
Regulus takes a red card out of the pocket right when James throws himself between the two of them. He doesn’t have any time to call out to James not to get involved because in a blink of an eye his husband is knocking Mulciber over, just like the latter tried with Regulus a few seconds ago. It’s as clear as day that the only reason why James isn’t following him down and punching him in the face is because his teammates are holding him back, all while he’s spewing out very colourful curses both in Portuguese and English. Regulus is sure he even hears merde and putain somewhere in the mix.
Regulus instantly wants to laugh or to pull James close by his jersey and kiss the fuck out of him in the middle of the pitch because oh, the sight of his sweaty and angry husband being protecetive over him? Ten out of ten, Regulus definitely recommends and hopes that he will get to see it more.
However, because they’re in the middle of the World Cup match and Regulus is a professional, he neither laughs or makes out with James. Instead he blows his whistle again and grabs James’ jersey, not to shove his tongue down his throat but to pull him back with full force.
Now it’s Regulus’ turn to stand between James and Mulciber when he jumps back up on his feet. He tries reaching James but doesn’t get the time, because Regulus is quick with shoving a red card in his face and shouting, “Get the hell off the pitch, right now!”
“Filho da puta.” James mutters under his breath as he watches Mulciber leave the pitch and then looks at Regulus with concern written all across his face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Regulus says, staring at him blankly as he raises a yellow card without tearing his gaze away from his husband.
“What the fuck, Regulus?!” James throws his arms out in disbelief and calls out, his voice cutting through the roar of the crowd. “I was protecting you!”
“I don't need protecting, Potter.” Regulus rolls his eyes and puts the cards back in his pocket. “And I told you yesterday I wasn't going to be biased. You pushed a player to the ground, be glad you didn’t get a red card as well.” He narrows his eyes at James, daring him to argue back but when he doesn’t, Regulus nods in the direction of his team. “Now go and win the game.”
It seems like James is unable to stop himself from breaking into a grin at that. “Oh, fuck you, meu amor.”
“Maybe later, if you win.” Regulus winks with a small smirk, blowing the whistle and just like that, the match continues.
There are a few fouls here and there and one offside (from Argentina), but other than that, the game goes on smoothly. No one tries getting in Regulus’ face and he’s not really sure if it’s because they’re scared of receiving a red card as well or if they don’t want James Potter knocking them down on the ground, but Regulus is thankful either way. He fucking hates it when people get in his face.
They’re sixty-four minutes into the match when James, with Avery still chasing him, passes the ball to Frank, who quickly draws everyone’s attention, including Regulus’, as he starts sprinting towards the net on the other half of the pitch that Argentinians are defending with everything they’ve got.
Right when Regulus is about to follow the players, he hears a gut-wrenching scream from behind him and his entire body instantly locks up because there was only one player behind him when Frank received the ball.
He isn’t really sure how, but he forces himself to turn around and his heart sinks in his stomach the moment he sees that James is face down on the pitch, banging his hand on the ground while pressing the other one against his lower back.
At the sight and at the sound of James’ agonised cries, Regulus forgets about everything and everyone else. How can he care about anything else when his husband is on the ground, releasing sounds that would make someone think that he’s been stabbed?
Regulus barely feels any pain as he drops himself on his knees beside James, his hands numb and trembling when he touches him as gently as he possibly can. He places his hand over James’ when the latter raises it to hit the ground again, and cups the back of his neck with the other one.
“Hey, hey, James, it’s okay, I’m here, baby, it’s okay.” He tells him while trying his damn best to swallow back his own tears because there’s no time for that right now. He can’t get emotional right now, not when needs to know what happened. “James, hey, can you look at me?”
Letting out another choked cry, James tightens his grip on Regulus’ hand and turns his head to the side, looking up at Regulus with teary eyes and oh, if James’ pained face is not the most heartbreaking sight, Regulus doesn’t know what is.
“It hurts.” James whimpers, his expression twisting from agonising pain he must be feeling. Regulus has never, ever seen him like this. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do. “Reg, it hurts so fucking much–”
“What hurts, baby?” Regulus asks, gently running his fingers through James’ damp hair as a poor attempt to comfort him.
“My lower back and I– I don’t think I can feel my legs.”
The words make Regulus feel like someone has dumped ice water all over him.
His panic gaze instantly snaps up at the sidelines, his whistle already in his mouth before he can even realise it. When he sees that he has the staff’s attention, he points at James and then gestures at them to send medics over before he returns his full attention back to his husband.
“It’s going to be okay, baby.” Regulus tells him, his voice trembling just like his entire body. He can barely see through the tears that fill up his eyes. “The medics are on their way, they’re going to help you. You’re going to be okay.”
“It hurts.” James lets the words out through gritted teeth and holds onto Regulus’ hand like his life depends on it. Tears are still streaming down his face, still tearing Regulus’ heart apart in his chest.
Regulus opens his mouth to say something, anything to James, but he’s interrupted by Dorcas and her team finally getting to them and kneeling by James’ side. He ignores the presence of other players around them as well.
“What happened?” She asks, softly pushing James’ hand away and starting to take a good look at the spot on his lower back.
“I don’t know. I– I didn’t see what happened. He was already on the ground when I heard his scream and looked back.” Regulus chokes out, feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut when James lets out a pained yelp at the feeling of Dorcas’ fingers on him. “He said his lower back hurts and that he can’t feel his legs.”
Dorcas’ gaze snaps up to him and mirrors the exact expression Regulus must have had on his face when James said those words to him.
“James, did someone bump into you or did it happen on its own?” Dorcas questions and it’s not hard to hear a hint of worry in her voice, even if she does her best to hide it.
James shakes his head and takes a shuddering breath in before answering, “No, Avery bumped into me from behind.”
Regulus doesn’t know what sort of look he has on his face the moment James finishes the sentence, but apparently it’s enough for Dorcas to see right through him.
She shakes her head, her eyes sharp. “Regulus, it was probably an accident.”
“He can’t feel his fucking legs, Dorcas!” Regulus spits the words out through his teeth.
Much to both his and James’ displeasure, lets go of his husband’s hand to jump up on his feet. He immediately scans the players to find Avery but before he has a chance to do anything stupid, like shoving a red card into a player’s face without a solid proof that he deserves it, Evan jogs over to him from the sidelines of the field, still holding his flag.
“Regulus, what the fuck happened?” He breathes out, looking down at James with wide eyes.
“Fucking Avery, that’s what happened.” Regulus replies harshly and he’s already reaching for the card in his pocket when Evan stops him back with his hand on Regulus’ arm, tugging him back.
“You weren’t looking at them and didn’t see what actually happened when they collided. I didn’t either, because I couldn’t tell from the distance. You can’t just give Avery a card without an official review, Regulus.”
“James could be paralysed, Evan!” He hisses and honestly, they all should be thankful that Regulus is only planning to give Avery a card and not smash his skull in with his feet like he fucking deserves. “Do you seriously think I give a shit about official reviews right now?”
“If you want to know what I think, I think you should go with your husband.” Evan tells him calmly and nods over Regulus’ shoulder, reflexively making him turn around and see that the medics are carefully moving James on the stretcher. Tears are still streaming down his face uncontrollably and it’s making Regulus want to burn the entire stadium down to the ground.
“If my substitute doesn’t shove a red card into Avery’s face, I will come back from the hospital and shove it up his ass.” Regulus warns, not a hint of teasing in his voice. There also must be something about the look in his eyes because Evan just nods at him without brushing it off as a joke.
He claps Regulus on the shoulder and says, “Text us where they’re going to take him. Pandora and Barty will probably get there quickly, but Dorcas and I will come when the match is over, okay?” Instead of giving Evan a verbal answer, Regulus just nods, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “He’s going to be okay, Regulus.”
“Thanks, Rosier.” Regulus gets himself to choke out and without waiting for Evan or anyone to say anything, he turns around and follows the medical team.
Somehow, through the roar of the crowd, Regulus manages to hear James’ small voice when he cranes his head and whispers, “Regulus?”
“I’m here.” He assures him softly and doesn’t think much about it as he reaches and intertwines their fingers together. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from bursting into tears at the visible relief on James’ face both at the confirmation that Regulus is still with him and at the gentle touch as well.
Regulus doesn’t let go of James’ hand even when they get out of the pitch.
– ☀ ★ –
As Regulus stares at James in the hospital bed, he can’t get the doctor’s words out of his head.
If Avery had hit him two centimeters to the side or higher, James would’ve been permanently paralysed.
He cried so much about that horrifying possibility in his brother’s arms in the waiting room that he thinks he won’t be able to cry till the next decade.
“You can blink, you know.” Regulus almost jumps out of his skin when James suddenly breaks the silence. “I’m not going to suddenly vanish into thin air.”
“Shut up.” He huffs out without any heat in his voice and continues running the pad of his thumb across James’ knuckles, occasionally bringing his hand up to his mouth to press a small kiss against it.
He can’t stop himself from smiling every time he looks at the wedding ring he put on James’ finger, finally in its rightful place and not hidden under a shirt on a chain, seeing as there’s no reason to hide it anymore. The way Regulus acted on the pitch after James got hurt made everything quite clear for everyone.
“I’m serious, meu amor.” James tells him softly. “I’m fine. I’m going to be as good as new in a few weeks.”
“Avery fractured your vertebra, James. Forgive me if I’m still a bit shaken up because of it.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Regulus rolls his eyes and kisses his hand again. “Only you’d get hurt during a match and then apologise for it, James Potter.”
“Well,” James grins at him sheepishly. “I hate seeing you worried.”
“And I hate seeing you hurt.” Regulus whispers and blinks away the tears that gather in his eyes again when he thinks about how James’ beautiful face was twisted in agonising pain just a few hours ago.
“Has the committee contacted you?” James asks, a clear attempt to subtly try changing the topic.
Regulus hums in confirmation. “Seems like neither of us will be participating in the final match of the World Cup.” He can’t stop himself from chuckling when James curses under his breath because of the new information. “I mean, it’s fair. We did lie and broke the rules.”
James rolls his eyes. “It was one game.”
“We still broke the rules.” Regulus shrugs. “Plus, I was biased.”
“You gave me a yellow card!”
“And then I wanted to beat up a player because he bumped into you and hurt you during the match.” His heart swells in his chest at James’ delighted expression. “I would have, if Evan hadn’t stopped me in time. I don’t think giving him a red card would’ve been enough for me.”
James grins so brightly that he puts the sun to shame.
“Aw, Reg, you love me.” The idiot sing-songs.
In return, Regulus rolls his eyes and looks down at the wedding ring on his finger for a split second before returning his attention to James again. “No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, yeah, you do.” James carefully shuffles to the side, freeing enough space on the bed for Regulus to fit and then nodding in the direction of it. “Come on, I miss you.”
“James, I’m right here.” Regulus sighs out, his eyes soft and full of love as he pushes himself up from the chair and crawls on the bed with his husband. “Besides, I’m pretty sure this is against the rules.”
“Good thing we’re experienced in breaking rules at this point.” James chirps happily and hums in content when Regulus wraps his arms around him, holding him close. He breaks the silence after a few minutes. “I’m sorry that you can’t participate in the final, Reg, really.”
“I don’t care about the stupid football match, James. As long as you’re okay, I don’t care about anything else.” Regulus tells him softly, pressing a small kiss against his temple. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You mean so much to me, James, more than you’ll ever know. You– you’re my everything, mon amour.”
“You say shit like that and then expect me to believe that you don’t love me, you liar.” James sniffles and hides his face further against Regulus’ throat.
Regulus lets out a small laugh but doesn’t say anything in return. He doesn’t have to.
He simply holds his husband, listens to him breathe and feels his strong heartbeat. That’s more than enough.
– ☀ ★ –
Five days later, when Brazil defeats France and wins the World Cup, the entire national team looks into the camera, proudly holding the trophy as they chant their captain’s name.
And if James instantly bursts into tears, that’s no one’s business but his and his husband’s.