Work Text:
“I think he’s shown up to class a grand total of three times,” Monty murmurs, jerking his chin towards the last of the students exiting the auditorium.
Regulus chuckles and continues picking up the exam papers from the desks. “Still want to go with your ‘progressive-no-attendance-policy’ next semester?" he asks lightly as he brings the pile towards the Professor.
“Eh. If he aces the final, he obviously didn’t need my help, did he?” Monty shrugs, flashing Regulus a grin.
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then maybe he’ll show up a bit more often when he has to retake the class,” Monty finishes, laughing in earnest, now.
Regulus chuckles again and surveys the empty room. “Need anything else before I go?”
“No, Regulus. You’ve been an excellent help. Best TA I’ve ever had, but don’t go telling anyone I have favorites,” Monty says, smirking a bit.
“Thanks, Professor Potter–” Regulus begins, only to be cut off.
“Monty.”
“Monty,” he agrees, still feeling a bit nervous using first names even after all these weeks. He’s been trained in etiquette since birth, after all.
“And since you’re now officially not my TA,” Monty says, smiling, “You’ll come to my house tonight for my holiday party? My son will be there,” he waggles his eyebrows comically at this, and Regulus rolls his eyes.
It’s been an ongoing topic ever since he and Regulus had talked about it earlier that term:
“That’s a nice bracelet,” Monty said absentmindedly as they corrected papers together.
“Ah. Thanks. My brother gave it to me,” Regulus said of the black and rainbow bracelet on his wrist.
But Monty was looking closer at the bracelet, now. “Can I ask-?”
“He gave it to me when I came out,” Regulus supplied, looking at the Professor hesitantly.
Monty seemed unsurprised at the admission, but he also seemed like he wanted to ask something. “Can I ask something that might be seen as unprofessional?”
Regulus felt a bit nervous at this. It had been years since he’d left his extremely unaccepting parents, gone to live with Sirius in a tiny little flat by themselves. They didn’t live together anymore, but those years had been difficult, and it'd taken a lot of work to accept himself. He still had a fear of people, specifically adults, being cruel about his sexuality. But he was also curious. “Yes?”
“My son…my son recently told my wife and I that he’s pansexual. Could you possibly be kind enough to give me some advice? About how to show him that I still feel the same about him?” Monty’s face was so genuine that Regulus almost burst into tears.
But instead, he began to talk. To tell about all the things he wished his parents had done.
Of course, ever since that day, Monty had been casually bringing up his son, and how he and Regulus might get along. But Regulus had always refused, trying to respect the boundaries of the TA-professor relationship. Also, he'd never admit it, but he likes Monty, and worries a bit about losing him as a mentor if things went wrong on a potential date.
But he can't exactly refuse to go to the party tonight. Not after everything Monty has done for him.
“I’ll be there,” he says with a small smile, and bids Monty goodbye.
-
He feels a bit nervous knocking on the door of the Potters that evening, but also reminds himself that he knows how to deal with a party. He knows how to small-talk and kiss up to people and make a good first impression.
He hates it all, of course. Hates everything that reminds him of the way he was raised. But he can do this.
So, when Mrs. Potter answers the door and pulls him into a hug, he’s quite surprised- he’s never been hugged at any fancy dinner party his family has ever thrown. But he still thanks her kindly for the invitation and hands her the bottle of wine he brought.
“Oh, you’re so sweet!” Mrs. Potter gushes, leading him inside.
It’s- crowded. There are a lot of people, all dressed nicely and drinking from fancy glasses. Some look to be closer to his age, while others are older. And in the middle of one of the rooms is-
“Sirius?” Regulus asks incredulously.
“Reggie!” Sirius cries, bounding forward, dragging a boy with him. “What’re you doing here?”
“Monty invited me…” Regulus murmurs, looking around for the man in question.
“Oh, Monty is around somewhere!” Mrs. Potter assures him, waving her hand carelessly. “Sirius, dear, you know Regulus?”
“Only for my whole life,” Sirius says with a wink. “Reggie’s my brother!”
Mrs. Potter gasps loudly. “This is your brother? Well, Regulus was Monty’s TA this semester!”
“He never tells me anything, ever since he moved on campus,” Sirius complains, leaning against the boy he brought along with a dramatic sigh. Then, he turns to Regulus. “The Potters are James’s parents.”
James. Regulus has heard of him. He and Sirius became friends at the start of University. Sirius has said a lot about him on their weekly phone calls, but they’ve never met.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then!” Mrs. Potter says, leaving Regulus with Sirius and his friend to answer the door again.
“Thanks, Mrs. Potter,” Regulus murmurs, only to be told, “Effie!” by both Sirius and Mrs. Potter.
“Can’t believe you’re here, Reg! Let’s get you something to drink, eh?” Sirius says excitedly, dragging the tall-but-quiet buy he’s still attached to with him.
“Now would be a good time to run,” Regulus murmurs to the boy.
“We share a flat. I can’t run far,” the man says with a grin as Sirius shrieks about seeing another friend.
Ah. So this is Remus. Well, this will be interesting.
-
Regulus was imagining a proper party. With suits and ties and a five-course seated meal and six different types of silverware and lots of networking.
Well, it was a party, alright. And people certainly had suits and ties. Or they did, about six drinks ago.
Because this party has drinks. Not just a few, but an everlasting amount. And people are enjoying them.
“Never been to a Potter Christmas Party before?” Remus asks him with a smirk as he stands in a corner and nurses his fourth- fifth?- drink, the room spinning just a tad.
“Didn’t realize I’d need a designated driver,” Regulus murmurs back, though he’s safe, as he took a cab.
“Sirius told me that last year he threw up in the bushes,” Remus admits with an evil grin.
“Charming,” Regulus laughs.
But the conversation seems to stutter to a halt.
Because he sees someone across the room. A boy.
Alright, it’s not just a boy. It’s– it’s the most beautiful human Regulus has ever seen. His dark hair is tousled and he wears the nerdiest circular glasses. His tan skin is almost caramel-colored and his grin is jaw-dropping. He’s dressed in a navy suit and tie, but Regulus can see his muscles rippling just a bit under his clothes.
And then Regulus loses his breath.
The boy is looking at him.
He stares back, unable to tear his eyes away.
And then the boy, very purposely, looks Regulus up and down. Slowly.
And then he grins. And turns away.
And Regulus feels all…fuzzy. But in the most pleasant way. “Shots? I need shots,” Regulus hears himself say in a hoarse voice.
It’s going to be a long night.
-
The man is everywhere. When Regulus goes with Sirius to get another shot, he’s there in the kitchen chatting with Mrs- Effie. And he looks Regulus up and down again, his expression hungry.
Regulus almost spits out his shot.
When Regulus moves to a dining room, he’s there, too. He just has to squeeze behind Regulus to get to the plate of cookies. And as he does so, his entire chest brushes against Regulus’s back.
“Excuse me,” his low voice whispers right into Regulus’s ear.
Regulus almost drops his plate.
When Regulus moves to a sitting room to continue talking with Remus, he sees the man there, too. He’s speaking with Sirius. Regulus is too far away to hear what they’re saying, but the man keeps looking at him.
And Regulus looks back.
-
At some point throughout the night, someone puts on Christmas music. It blares through a speaker and some of the guests are tipsily dancing. Sirius is trying to lead Effie in a waltz as they both giggle hysterically and Remus takes pictures from the side.
And the boy is there. Again.
Except now, he’s walking directly toward Regulus.
“Care to dance?” he murmurs, his gaze almost piercing through Regulus, to his very soul.
Luckily, he’s taken dance lessons before. “Alright,” he agrees a bit nervously.
The boy leads him to a quieter spot in the room, away from Sirius’s insanity, and Regulus tries not to react to how it feels to just hold his hand. He’s not in middle school, after all. He shouldn’t feel so giddy. It must be the alcohol.
They begin to do a sort-of waltz that involves mostly just turning in a circle to the soft music in the background. As they do so, the boy’s hand rests on Regulus’s waist, his thumb moving back and forth slowly, making Regulus’s toes tingle a bit.
“You haven’t been here before,” the boy murmurs softly, looking almost desperately into Regulus’s eyes. “I- I’d remember you.”
Regulus can’t resist. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, pretending to be upset.
“I- no, I-”
“I’m joking,” he says with a smirk, and he feels the boy relax a bit.
“You’re…beautiful. That’s why,” the boy says, answering his earlier question.
And beneath the obvious attraction between them, Regulus senses that this boy is being genuine. And he almost melts right there. Nobody’s ever called him beautiful before. “Thank you,” he whispers.
“How am I doing at this dancing thing? My best friend says I’m terrible at it,” the boy asks, clearly trying to ease the tension, grinning wryly.
To be honest, he’s not great. But Regulus is just enjoying the way the boy’s hand is resting at his waist, making his skin there all hot. “You’re doing fine,” he allows, laughing, trying to resist the urge to pull the boy closer, so their bodies touch.
The boy shrugs, laughing, and Regulus is again stunned by his smile. “Well, I guess we all have our weaknesses. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, really.”
And then they stare at each other, all attempts at conversations gone. And It’s cliché and ridiculous, but it’s like they’re the only people in the room. All Regulus can feel is the boy’s hand on his waist, the other clasped in his own. All he can see is the way the boy is staring at him- almost adoringly.
And then, they’re kissing.
And if Regulus liked the feeling of the boy’s hand on his waist, it’s nothing compared to the feeling of their lips together. It’s heat and perfection and desire but also somehow warm and gentle and caring. Regulus feels the want building in the base of his spine as suddenly, the boy’s hand lets go of his own and comes to the back of his neck to pull gently at his hair.
Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe Regulus is going crazy, but suddenly, he wants more. Fuck the fact that this is his Professor’s Christmas party.
But at least the boy seems to be on the same page, because as they separate, he grabs Regulus’s hand and drags him along yet another hallway, up some stairs, and into a bedroom.
And before he can really contemplate what they’re doing, he’s slammed up against the wall of the bedroom, the door closes, and the boy’s lips are all over him.
“Is this alright?” the boy murmurs gently, grabbing hesitantly at the hem of Regulus’s shirt, and he only has to nod once before his shirt is ripped off his body, followed quickly by the boy’s own jacket, tie, and shirt.
And God, his hands. They’re everywhere. Cool against Regulus’s hot skin, tracing against his pale chest as lips and teeth move along his neck, and he lets out a moan that is quite embarrassing, but it only seems to spur the boy on more.
He feels like he’s floating, the way the boy worships him, kissing seemingly everywhere at once- his neck and jaw and lips and shoulder.
And then two things happen simultaneously.
The boy’s hands start to move. It’s as if they’ve read Regulus’s mind, because all he can think is Fuck, lower, lower, yes, damnit, touch me lower.
But just as the hands are finally drifting over his waistband, the door opens.
“Jamie, you’re supposed to be sociali- oh!”
And to Regulus’s absolute horror, it’s Monty. Walking in the bedroom. To him and a half-naked boy.
He wants to run. Or hide. Or throw up.
But it all gets decidedly more confusing when Monty, who previously just looked dumbfounded, bursts out laughing.
He and the boy look at each other and back again, and Regulus is a bit relieved to see he looks confused, too.
“What-?”
But Monty finally catches his breath and says, “Well…I’m glad you two have, erm, met! James, this is Regulus, the TA I told you about! And Regulus, this is my son, James!”
Well. Whoops.
-
“Remember last year?” James murmurs into Regulus’s ear as they set out what feels like hundreds of bottles of wine for the annual Potter Christmas Party.
“Vividly,” Regulus says, but he hides a smile.
“Suppose we should do that again this year, but finish what we start- ow!” James shrieks, trying to turn away from Regulus’s light punch.
Regulus just rolls his eyes at his boyfriend. “Shut up, Potter.”