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“Believe not those who say
The upward path is smooth,
Lest thou shouldst stumble in the way,
And faint before the truth.
It is the only road
Unto the realms of joy;
But he who seeks that blest abode
Must all his powers employ.
Bright hopes and pure delights
Upon his course may beam,
And there, amid the sternest heights
The sweetest flowerets gleam—”
The Narrow Way, Anne Brontë
Three weeks after their first kiss, James and Regulus decide to tell Sirius they are dating.
They are still learning how to navigate the shift in their relationship and avoiding the weight of other people’s opinions and expectations. Sirius is the first exception to that rule; it feels wrong to keep it from him.
Because he doesn’t do anything by halves, James spends the day slow-cooking some beef bourguignon. It’s his best friend’s favorite meal, and he wants it to be perfect. He inhales the rich, savory scent, scoops a little taste, and hums in appreciation. The homemade bread is already cooling over the wire rack and perfuming the entire flat, so his ambitious culinary feat is officially achieved. James leans against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel, eyes darting toward the clock. Everything is ready, all that’s left is for Sirius to arrive.
“He’s not going to punch me, is he?” James asks, his voice just a tad too nervous for it to pass as a joke.
Regulus, who is sitting on the couch with his usual air of calm while he grades practice tests, puts his red pen down and raises an eyebrow at James. “For what? Feeding him his favorite meal and telling him good news?”
“I don’t know,” James mutters, fidgeting with the tea towel in his hands.
“You’re overthinking it,” Regulus says with a faint, encouraging smile.
“Yeah.” James knows that. Sirius is already aware of his feelings for Regulus and has no problem with them, but James can’t help but worry that might change once Sirius learns they are actually together. James just wants everything to go well. “It just feels like something he’d do. Punch me for seducing his baby brother or some shit.”
Regulus tilts his head, and his expression turns playful and a little mean. The sight makes James’s stomach flip and clap like a well-trained zoo seal. He’s so in love with this man, it is ridiculous.
“Didn’t you say he was annoyed that it took you too long to realize you had feelings for me?” Regulus asks with feigned seriousness. “Maybe he’ll punch you for not seducing me sooner, then.”
James groans, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up worse than before. “You’re not helping, love.”
The doorbell rings, cutting off any further exchange. James freezes. He glances at Regulus, who nods, motioning for him to answer the door. This is it. The moment he’s been rehearsing in his head all day.
“Here we go,” James mumbles under his breath.
“Hey,” Regulus calls just as James reaches for the doorknob. He looks over at his boyfriend, whose smile is back to supportive. “It’ll be fine, Jamie. It’s just Sirius.”
Jamie.
It’s the first time Regulus calls him that, and the encouragement backfires. His heart skips a beat and blood rushes to warm his cheeks. James is a flushed mess when the doorbell rings again, and he finally opens the door to a grinning Sirius.
“James!” he greets, stepping inside and pulling James into a bear hug.
Being close to his best friend instantly calms him. Regulus is right, it is just Sirius. James returns the hug with a chuckle. “Hey.”
“Is that beef bourguignon I smell?” Sirius asks, letting him go. “You better not have butchered my favorite, Potter.”
James presses his hand to his heart in mock offense. “Mate, when have I ever let you down? I spent the whole day in the kitchen. Reg supervised.”
Regulus barely glances up from the sea of red he is painting over some poor kid’s work, though a smile tugs at his lips. “It is decent,” he hums.
“Decent? Try culinary genius,” James scoffs as he leads Sirius toward the dining area, where the table is already laid.
“You’re pushing it, Potter.”
Sirius drops onto the chair James just pulled for him like a nervous suitor on a first date. His friend frowns at him and then at the table, surveying the fancy dining plates and silverware. They were a gift from Euphemia when James moved into the flat, and he hasn’t used them in, well, ever.
“Am I in the right place? Did you two start running a restaurant or something without telling me?”
“We thought we’d go all out tonight,” James replies, shooting Regulus a quick look that begs get in here.
“You’re being weird,” Sirius says, narrowing his eyes.
“No, I’m not,” James argues, turning around to avoid Sirius’s gaze.
Regulus — bless him — asks his brother about Remus. It’s the most effective of distractions, and Sirius instantly launches into a maudlin monologue, mourning the loss of his beloved husband to the cruel claws of war. (Remus is on a faculty retreat for the weekend.) James idly listens to the conversation while busying himself serving the food and the fancy red wine the girl at the store said would pair well with it.
Once they are all sat with platefuls of steaming beef bourguignon in front of them, Sirius hums, poking at the meat. “So,” he drawls, “is this an apology dinner or a celebration?”
“I guess it depends on your reaction.” Regulus shrugs. “Go on, James, tell him.”
James chokes on his wine and shoots a betrayed look at his boyfriend; they were supposed to do this together. He coughs to push the alcohol away from his airways. “Can’t we eat first?” he croaks. “Sirius hasn’t even tried the food yet.”
Sirius very deliberately takes a bite, and the table descends into silence while he chews, eyes going from James to Regulus and back again. “There,” he says as soon as he swallows. “The food is great, now spill.”
James takes a deep breath, his foot brushing Regulus’s under the table for support. “We’re dating. Regulus and I, that is. We’re— we’re together now.”
For a moment, Sirius only stares at them, his expression blank as he processes the words. “You’re serious?”
James can’t help himself. “No, you’re Sirius.”
Regulus groans, shaking his head. “You walked right into that one.”
“Finally!” Sirius squeals, too excited to mind the stupid pun. “I can’t believe this is really happening! You two took your sweet time with it, didn’t you?”
James laughs, the tension finally breaking. “Well, better late than never.”
Sirius leans back in his chair, folding his arms as he smirks at the both of them. “I should’ve locked you two in a room and made you sort this out ages ago.”
“Thanks for not doing that,” Regulus deadpans.
Sirius scoffs, even if still amused. “The only reason I didn’t is that you two idiots would probably start doing your grocery list or some other domestic shit to pass the time and completely ignore the crushing sexual tension.”
“Sirius,” Regulus complains, his feathers finally ruffled as he hides his blushing face in his hand. “Shut up.”
James ignores the flush creeping up his own neck and takes another gulp of his wine.
Sirius raises an eyebrow, the mischievous glint in his eyes brightening. “I know you have been practically married for years, but I need to enact my right to give you both the shovel talk.”
Regulus sighs, rubbing his eyes in consternation. “Is this necessary?”
“Yes!” Sirius fucking giggles. “I’ve waited too long for this. I won’t have you idiots screwing it up now that it’s finally happened!”
“Go ahead, then,” Regulus starts.
“Do your worst,” James concludes.
Sirius leans forward, narrowing his eyes and pointing a finger at James. He looks like a cartoon villain. “Potter, if you hurt my baby brother, I’ll castrate you with a butter knife and bury you alive. You know I can, and you know I’ll get away with it because Remus will help cover my tracks.”
“Fair enough.” James nods solemnly even if he wants to laugh. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”
“And you,” Sirius says, turning to Regulus. His expression softens a little, but his tone remains firm. “You’ve got a temper, you little shit. Keep it to yourself because if you break my best friend’s heart, I’ll break your face. I won’t hesitate.”
Regulus doesn’t even blink. “Duly noted.”
Sirius’s dangerous expression doesn’t last much longer; it cracks into an excited grin once more. “Good! Now that that’s out of the way, I can officially say I’m happy for you both!”
The last of James’s nervousness dissipates like fairy floss on his tongue. “Thanks, mate.”
Regulus, never one for big displays of emotion, just gives Sirius a small nod of appreciation.
Conversation flows easily after that. James and Sirius provide most of it because they both have the tendency to never shut up. Regulus can be like that as well, incessantly talking about something he finds interesting and moving his hands around to prove his points, but that’s usually when it’s just the two of them. Now, he mostly listens and provides some commentary between bites of his dinner.
Once they are all full of good food and wine, Sirius smirks and rests his chin on his hand. James instantly recognizes it as his gossip stance.
“So, what’s next for you two?” he asks, teasing. “Moving in together?”
“Ha-ha,” Regulus laughs sarcastically but quickly matches his brother’s expression. “But actually, we’re thinking of adopting a cat.”
Sirius stares at them, blinking in horror and disbelief. “A cat?”
They have discussed it, though only in passing. Regulus had brought it up, toying with the idea of adopting a pet but unsure how it would fit into their busy schedules. James is more than fine with it; he’d give Regulus an entire menagerie if he so desired.
Still, James is plenty aware that Regulus is currently messing with his feline-averse brother. He grins, joining in. “A cat.”
“A cat.” Sirius groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “A cat.”
“Maybe two,” James says. “I heard they do well in pairs.”
“Two?” Sirius complains. “Cats don’t like me! I can’t be outnumbered!”
“That sounds like a you problem,” Regulus hums.
Sirius huffs indignantly. “Couldn’t you pick a dog?”
“Why?” Regulus asks. “We already have you.”
Sirius throws a bit of bread at his brother, who ducks and sticks out his tongue in pettiness. James can only laugh and think, God, I love them both so much.
Later that night, when Regulus is snoring softly on the couch, and James walks Sirius to the door, his friend pulls him into a hug. It’s gentler than the one they shared when Sirius arrived, but it feels much more meaningful.
“I really am happy for you,” he says against James’s shoulder. “There is no one I would trust with his heart as much as I trust you.”
James blinks, perilously close to tears, and decides to blame the overflowing emotions on the single glass of wine he had hours ago. He squeezes Sirius close to his chest. “Thank you.”
·:☼:·
A month after their first kiss, James asks Regulus a weird but sincere question.
It’s not planned. They’re lying intertwined in bed, skin damp, and winded breaths mingling as they float in the warm afterglow. James brushes a stray curl from Regulus’s forehead; his hair is delightfully tousled from James’s fingers. Just having him here, close and soft and sated, feels so inexplicably right that James can’t help himself. He just blurts it out.
“Move in with me?”
Regulus blinks, his expression somewhere between surprised and amused. “What?”
His confusion is so endearing that James can’t help but laugh. “Move in with me,” he repeats, closing the small distance between them and pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to Regulus’s brow to smooth away the doubt there.
“James,” Regulus huffs, “we already live together.”
That is true. Not only have they shared a home for years, but they have also been sharing a bed most nights now. However, Regulus always refers to this bedroom as James’s room, which feels wrong. He wants it to be their room, their bed.
“I know, but I mean in here.” James takes Regulus’s hand and brushes his lips against the knuckles. “I’ll clear out half the closet for you,” he continues. “You can put your ungodly collection of hair products next to my humble shampoo, and your books on the nightstand. I’ll even let you have my favorite blanket because I know you love it.” James smiles, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “Move in with me. For real.”
“Jamie,” Regulus whispers almost inaudibly. “It’s only been a month.”
If it were any of his previous partners, James might have been put off by this answer; might have fallen into the familiar spiral of, Oh, I’m ruining everything by going too fast again; but this is Regulus. James knows the uncertainty in those pretty gray eyes isn’t about him.
“Has it?” James asks, cupping Reg’s cheek, so invitingly warm beneath his palm. James runs his thumb under his bottom lip, still swollen from their kisses. Just looking at Regulus lights firecrackers underneath his ribcage. “Because I’ve loved you for so much longer than that.”
Regulus’s gaze softens, his eyes searching James’s face as if he’s still not quite convinced that he is real, that this is happening. Slowly, he reaches up, his fingers skimming along James’s jaw. There’s a slight tremor in his touch as if he’s testing to see if James will disappear.
Finally, Regulus lets out a long breath, a tentative smile tugging at his lips. “All right,” he agrees, “I’ll move in with you. For real.”
“Good,” James murmurs, pulling Regulus in for a deep, lingering kiss. His chest is about to burst, unable to contain the swelling bubble of unbridled happiness. James has never felt more at home in his life, and it has little to do with the flat. Regulus is his home.
“How about we hit our shower, then?” Regulus asks when they finally let go. He tries to sound sultry, but his voice is far too breathless to succeed. James loves him all the more for it.
“Ah, I see we’re greedy today,” James teases. Regulus scoffs and half-heartedly tries to push him away, but James only pulls his boyfriend into another kiss.
Yes, this is home.
·:☼:·
Two months after their first kiss, they decide it is time to tell their friends.
If James could, he’d go all out — hire an airship to display a massive banner across the sky proclaiming, I love Regulus Black. His boyfriend is a little more measured and insists they shouldn’t make a big deal out of it.
The perfect opportunity presents itself at Marlene’s birthday party. Since she’s dating Dorcas, both their friend groups are included in the guest list, so everyone will be there.
Well, everyone but Lily and Mary. The happy newlyweds are currently on their honeymoon, but that’s all right — they already know. James came out to Lily not long after he settled on bisexual as his label, and it took her exactly three seconds to connect the dots and ask if he and Regulus had finally worked things out. His confirmation was quickly followed by a symphony of delighted shrieks from both women.
When the day of the birthday party comes, Regulus suggests they share the news subtly, without any fuss. Their plan is to openly act like a couple and simply wait for their friends to catch up. James agrees even if he’s a little skeptical about how subtle he can be when it comes to Regulus.
Marls’s favorite pub is loud and warm, thrumming with music and laughter. Their friends have already settled into booths with drinks and piles of chips when they slide into one, keeping as close as possible. James stretches his arm along the back of the seat, fingers absently playing with the ends of Regulus’s hair.
No one bats an eye.
Later, with a couple of pints already in his system, James decides to be a little more obvious. He presses a quick kiss to Regulus’s temple, but the group hardly notices, lost in their incessant chatting.
Surprisingly, Regulus is the one to lose his patience first.
The celebration is almost over by then. Sirius and Remus are already gone because it is a school night, and Remus refuses to teach while hungover. It is well enough because Sirius would not appreciate bearing witness to what happens next.
Regulus shifts even closer to James, hooks his arm around his neck, and pulls him into a kiss. With tongue. Lots of tongue. James can’t form a coherent thought, so he only kisses him back.
“Ugh, tone it down with the PDA, will you?” Marlene complains across the table, drunkenly munching on her chips and squinting at them in mock disgust. Or proper disgust. James is too dazed to tell. “I’m eating.”
James stifles a laugh, pulling back from his boyfriend, who chases after his mouth for one last peck before settling back down, cheeks red. James laces their fingers above the table, deciding they should just say it at this point.
“We just wanted to tell you that we’re dating now.” To emphasize his point, James raises their intertwined hands and presses a devout kiss to the back of Regulus’s hand, a faint smile on his lips.
Marlene raises her eyebrows, unimpressed. “Haven’t you been dating for, like, six months?”
“I thought it was a year,” Peter pipes in.
“Are you all blind?” Dorcas asks, rolling her eyes as she dips a chip in ketchup for dramatic effect. “They weren’t dating, they were pining. Regulus couldn’t shut up about it, really.”
“He was convinced Jimmy here was straight.” Barty laughs, rising from his seat to slide next to James, clapping his shoulder with a little more force than necessary.
“More like straight from the pride parade,” Evan adds with a snort. He raises his pale eyebrows as if daring James to contradict him, which he won’t because Evan is right.
Regulus glares at his friends. “I hate all of you.”
“Aw, love you too, Reg,” Dorcas quips, raising her glass in a playful toast.
James is about to consider Operation Tell Their Friends a success when something occurs to him. “Wait,” he says, frowning. “Why weren’t you surprised by the kiss? You knew Regulus had feelings for me, but he never told you we were dating.”
“Not with words, he didn’t,” Barty says cryptically.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Marlene asks, interested now that there’s fresh gossip to be had.
Fortunately, Evan is a little more forthcoming with information than his boyfriend. “We met Regulus for coffee before his early shift a couple of weeks ago and he said good morning before he had ungodly amounts of caffeine,” he explains, “and he only complained about over-roasted coffee beans once.”
Damn, James thinks, bewildered, do I make him that happy?
“So, we knew he’d finally gotten what he wanted,” Dorcas concludes, gesturing toward James with a flourish.
Regulus sighs, leaning into James’s side. “I regret ever thinking telling them would be a good idea,” he mutters.
James chuckles, brushing his lips against Regulus’s hair. “I don’t. Besides—” he says, voice low enough for only Regulus to hear, “—they’re not wrong about the pining.”
Regulus presses his lips together to avoid a smile. “Shut up.”
·:☼:·
Five months after their first kiss, James and Regulus have their first fight.
Well, they’ve had their fair share of petty disagreements — debating what to order for dinner, bickering about Regulus’s inability to throw out empty shampoo bottles, or Regulus scolding James for leaving the toilet seat up. One could argue that those count as fighting, but they’ve never felt like it.
This one does.
Regulus, Barty, and Evan have planned one of their pub outings tonight. James is invited but opts to stay behind. He knows Reg enjoys his alone time with his chaotic pair of friends, and (contrary to what Sirius claims) they aren’t one of those couples that are always together.
“Have fun, love,” James calls from the couch where he’s sprawled, playing a videogame. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do — or rather, don’t do anything I would do.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, but a smile tugs on his lips as he leans down to press a quick kiss on James’s forehead. “I should be back around one. You don’t have to wait up,” he says, though they both know James will.
He doesn’t mind waiting up so he can help Regulus’s drunk arse to change and get into bed later. It’s familiar, a routine established long before they even started dating. James plays his game until his thumbs cramp, then switches to watching one of those alien conspiracy documentaries he not-so-ironically enjoys. It is a nice, quiet night by himself.
Only the clock ticks past one in the morning and Regulus doesn’t return to the flat.
At first, James brushes it off as Regulus having lost track of time. He often gets caught up in the moment with his friends, all three of them behaving like the reckless teenagers they never got to be under their controlling parents. However, the delay stretches toward an hour, then two, and anxiety starts to creep in. James tries to ignore all the worst-case scenarios sprouting in his head as he fires off a few texts, each one tinged with a little more urgency than the last.
Hey, you alright, love?
Everything okay?
Reg? Let me know when you’re coming back.
Regulus, where are you?
There’s no response. James tries calling, but it goes straight to voicemail. His unease sharpens into cold worry as he watches the texts remain undelivered and unread, his mind running wild. Finally, he messages Barty and Evan, hoping for some reassurance.
Barty replies quickly, but his answer plunges James into a frigid pool of panic.
Isn’t he home yet???
We left over an hour ago
Dread settles deep in his bones as he stares at the message. Where the hell could Regulus be? What if he was in an accident? What if someone hurt him?
James takes a deep breath, trying to stop himself from spiraling. He tries to remember the saying his mother always repeated, something about bad news arriving quickly. If he hasn’t heard from Regulus, it must mean that he is fine.
He tries to sit down and wait, which lasts for about three seconds. James grabs his phone but knows better than to text Sirius directly. His best friend only remembers to charge his phone maybe once a week. Instead, James reaches out to Remus and asks if they’ve seen Regulus, hoping he might have called his brother to pick him up. The messages are delivered but remain unread; they’re probably asleep.
His worry increases, gathering in his throat until James can barely breathe. He wants to go out and look for Regulus but knows aimlessly roaming the streets in search of his boyfriend won’t do much good. James’s best course of action is to stay put in case Reg comes back. He paces around the flat, taking more deep breaths to try and tame some of the nervous energy.
It’s nearly six in the morning when James, sleep-deprived and frantic, finally grabs his jacket because staying put might just drive him mad. He’s patting his pockets to ascertain he has everything when he hears the familiar jingle of keys. The door swings open, and Regulus stumbles in, bleary-eyed, hungover, but otherwise unharmed.
Unharmed.
The relief rushing to his head is so immediate and overwhelming that James needs to hold on to the wall to keep himself upright, tears prickling his eyes.
Regulus is fine.
“Oh, you’re up early,” Regulus comments, hanging his keys. “Were you going somewhere?”
And just like that, James’s relief morphs into anger.
“I was going to look for you!” he snaps, unable to hide his frustration. “Where the hell have you been?!”
Regulus freezes, caught off-guard by the hostility. He fixes his posture, shoulders straightening defensively, yet his voice is almost bored when he answers, “My phone died.”
“That does not tell me where you were!”
“I couldn’t get an Uber without my phone, could I?” Regulus huffs, as if explaining himself is a bloody inconvenience. “The pub was only two blocks from Dorcas’s flat, so I walked there. I crashed on her couch, and she dropped me off on her way to her shift at the hospital. That’s where I was.”
“And you didn’t think to let me know that?” James demands. “I thought something happened to you!”
“My phone was dead, and I’m fine,” Regulus says, pulling off his jacket. “It’s not that serious.”
Oh, that fucking indifference stings like a pile of salt over a fresh wound. “It fucking is!” James shouts. “You decided to spend the night somewhere else without telling me! You were gone the whole night, Regulus, and I didn’t know where you were! ”
Regulus bristles at that, his tired nonchalance giving way to open irritation. “You’re not my parent,” he retorts, the last word dripping with vitriol. “You’re not entitled to my whereabouts at all times!”
The words hit James like a slap. He is so taken aback that he can only blink for a moment, the bitter taste of betrayal flooding his mouth. He just… he spent the whole night worried out of his mind and this is what Regulus goes with? This?
James closes his eyes, focusing on his breaths to rein back his emotions, but it only seems to further increase his anger.
This feeling doesn’t come often, but when it does… It’s a powerful storm, gathering in his veins and clouding his best judgment. The sort of anger that spurs James to punch guys in bars when they say something rude about his friends or kick his roommate’s (supposed) boyfriend out of the flat practically unprovoked. It’s only worsened by the cold tendrils of hurt seizing his limbs.
James wants to scream out in frustration, to show what this nightmarish night has done to his nerves, to let Regulus know exactly how much of a selfish, inconsiderate, fucking arsehole he’s being. It would be easy to give in if it were anyone else, but this is Regulus — Regulus — whom he loves more than life itself. James knows the type of things he says when he’s like this — he’s certain to scramble something vicious and vindictive from his rightful anger.
All he can do to avoid hurling hurtful words at Regulus right now is to give them some space.
“All right,” James says at last, jaw flexing. He slips on the jacket he is still holding and grabs his keys from the hook.
Regulus opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes. He watches James readying himself to leave. His eyes widen and his lips tremble.
Then, quiet, but still simmering with hostility, “Where are you going?”
James can’t push down the bitterness when he replies, “You’re not entitled to my whereabouts either.” The click of the door behind him adds an echoing note of finality to the sentence.
With his back pressed to the door and his heart hammering against his ribs, James stands in the hall, heaving. He simultaneously dreads and hopes that Regulus will come after him.
He doesn’t.
In his self-imposed exile from his home, James goes for the one place that feels almost like it.
The tattoo parlor isn’t open yet, but Sirius is already there, setting up. He’s placing his tools into the autoclave, humming quietly to himself when James enters through the back door.
“Hey.”
“James?” Sirius blurts, startled to see him, but his surprise is quickly replaced by concern when he notices James’s rugged, sleep-deprived mien. “What happened?”
“Can I hang out here for a bit?” James asks instead of answering the question, exhaustion seeping into every word.
Sirius frowns, his concern deepening. “What happened?” he repeats. “You look like shit.”
James wants to play it off, feign offense, and spill some nonsense about Sirius not looking much better, but he is too tired for that. He settles for the truth. “I didn’t sleep last night,” he replies. “Regulus and I had a fight.”
“You had a fight?” Sirius echoes as if he can’t quite believe what he just heard. Then his eyes grow wide, and he closes the autoclave with a little too much force. He turns to James. “And you left?”
James flinches at the accusation in Sirius’s voice, drawing in his shoulders like a turtle retreating into its shell. He knows exactly how Regulus feels about being left behind. He didn’t mean to hurt him with that, he just… “I had to. I was too angry.”
Sirius glares at him. “Too angry to stay and talk it out like an adult?”
“Yes,” James says, his voice cracking slightly. “I was going to make things worse if I stayed.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Mary says it’s because I’m an Aries,” he adds weakly; a futile, misplaced attempt at humor.
Sirius isn’t having any of it. He folds his arms and shoots James a pointed look. “James.”
“Can I just… stay here for a bit? Get some sleep? Please.”
“Of course, you can,” Sirius replies, mildly offended that James dared ask. “We can— We will talk later, but go have a lie-down. Just don’t wake Remus. You know how he gets this early.”
James nods. “Thanks,” he murmurs and trudges up the stairs.
He’s more than familiar with the place and navigates it easily, even in his current state. Remus is sprawled peacefully across the bed, his long limbs tangled in the sheets, one arm draped protectively over the pillow. James trades his street clothes for some borrowed pajamas and slips into the empty side of the bed, careful not to disturb Remus. His head is still thrumming with the aftershocks of anger and worry, but the exhaustion soon takes over, pulling him into a restless sleep.
James wakes to familiar, gentle fingers running through his hair, clipped nails softly scratching his scalp. He smiles, leaning into the touch, a pleased sound blossoming in his throat.
“Hi, Jamie,” Regulus whispers.
The sad, guilt-stricken way his boyfriend says the nickname is enough for James to remember everything about the previous night. The fight, the anger, the hurt — it all rushes back at once. He sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes and blinking as if it would help him see better.
Regulus wordlessly passes him his glasses. James pushes them up on his face and the world sharpens. They are alone in the dimly lit studio apartment; Remus must be downstairs with Sirius. James stares at a crumpled shirt on the floor next to the dresser, steadying himself before allowing his gaze to land on Regulus.
He looks exhausted, shoulders hunched and shadows gathering around his eyes. James has to tuck his hands under his legs to keep himself from reaching for his boyfriend; all he wants is to gather Regulus in his arms, kiss his forehead, and tell him everything is fine.
James isn’t a liar, so he doesn’t.
“Can we talk?” Regulus asks. His voice is small and so unlike his usual haughty self, it makes James’s heart bleed.
“Talk,” he agrees gruffly. James doesn’t mean to be rude, but his mouth is dry, his throat is tight, and he is still grappling with what Regulus said earlier. He just can’t muster any amiability to soften the word.
Regulus remains quiet, he reaches for James’s hair again, pushing it away from his face and running his fingers through the rebellious strands in deliberate, repetitive motions. James doesn’t lean into the touch this time, but he doesn’t shy away either.
Seconds pass, ticking into minutes, and James decides to take the reins if only because the silence might just kill him. “You understand why I was so angry, don’t you?” he asks.
Regulus nods, eyes glistening and lips trembling. “I do. I would have lost my mind if you were the one missing. I’m sorry, James.” His voice is thick with regret, his fingers still tangled in James’s hair as if he can’t bear to let go. “It’s just… When you asked where I’d been… You were angry, and it felt like it did with them. Their love came with so many strings attached, with expectations and micromanaging that it just felt… suffocating.”
James knows Regulus, and he understands how his parents warped that line between care and control for him, how he didn’t feel like his own person until he was free of them. He understands, but it doesn’t righten their situation.
“I don’t want to control you, love,” James says. He reaches for the hand that is tugging a little too harshly on his hair now and intertwines their fingers instead. Regulus holds on for dear life. “I just… I need to know you’re safe. That isn’t unreasonable to ask in a relationship.”
“I know,” Regulus murmurs, “and I understand if… if you don’t…” He takes a deep breath and forces the words out in a single rush. “I understand if that was a deal breaker.”
“What?!” James almost chokes on the word. “Love, no.” He gathers his trembling boyfriend in his arms. Regulus takes the opportunity to clamber over his lap, hiding in the curve of his neck. “I’m not going anywhere, you know that. Please, know that.”
“You left,” Regulus murmurs almost inaudibly against James’s shoulder.
“Oh, love.” James squeezes him tightly. “I was leaving the situation before I made it worse. I wasn’t leaving you. Never you. I promise.”
Regulus relaxes in his hold, boneless and pliant with exhaustion and relief. James doesn’t want to reignite their fight or any of his boyfriend’s insecurities, but he can’t let this go. Not yet.
“Reg?” James calls, and Regulus tenses again. He runs a soothing hand over his back. “I don’t care if you party and get drunk with your friends; I don’t care if you stay out all night as long as I know you’re safe.” James rests his chin on Regulus’s head, still craving this reassurance after his panicked night. Regulus is safe. “I just need you to be more careful, not leave me in the dark for so long. I thought you were hurt and… I almost lost my mind.”
Regulus nods again, sniffing softly. “I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do it again,” he agrees, tone tinted with tears. “I’m sorry.”
“I know, love,” James whispers, pressing a tender kiss to Regulus’s tear-streaked cheek. “I know.”
For a moment, they sit there in silence, the tension between them dissipating. Regulus breathes softly against him, and whispers, “I love you.”
“I love you,” James replies. He reaches up to the narrow nape of Regulus’s neck and squeezes gently. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go home.”
Regulus sighs. “Let’s go home.”
·:☼:·
Seven months after their first kiss, James and Regulus adopt a cat. Or rather, a cat adopts them.
It’s a Saturday afternoon, and they’ve just finished grocery shopping for the week. James is loading the bags into the boot of the car when Regulus puts a hand on his arm, halting his movements.
“Did you hear that?” Regulus asks, craning his neck in search of a sound.
James frowns. “Hear what?”
“That!”
This time James does hear it — a soft, barely audible whine. Before he can fully process it, Regulus ducks under the car. A few minutes and a lot of shuffling and grunting later, he reemerges with a small, black fur ball in his hands.
“A kitten!” Regulus announces, holding it triumphally. “Look at you, little one. How’d you end up here all alone?”
The kitten meows and hides its face in the curve of Regulus’s elbow. He smiles so brightly, James fears he’ll go blind.
He’d do anything to keep his Reg this happy.
“I guess I should go back in there for cat food?” James asks, amused.
Regulus nods, cradling the kitten closer, earning another meow. “And litter.”
“And litter,” James agrees. “Any other instructions?”
“Get the good stuff,” Regulus commands. “Don’t get cheap on our child.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Come Monday, they take the little one to the vet. It is a fancy clinic that Regulus chose after pouring over online reviews. They even bought a cat carrier for the occasion, but the kitten insistently meowed to be let out and neither of them had the heart to deny the pleas.
Regulus is called to fill in some forms at the counter, leaving James with the cat on his lap and orders not to let it wander. James obliges, using the strings of his hoodie to keep it entertained. He’s already unbearably fond of their new pet. How could he not when Regulus has been smiling nonstop since they found it? Not to mention that the kitten is so goddamn adorable with large yellow eyes, pointy ears, and soft fur that’s black everywhere but the white tip of its tail. He never stood a chance.
James is so distracted by their string game, that he only notices someone’s taken the seat next to him when they speak.
“You have such a cute kitten,” a woman says. She’s around his age and seems nice, smiling down at the black fur ball.
“The cutest,” James agrees, scratching behind the kitten’s ear as it purrs, gnawing on the aglet caught between its tiny paws.
“May I?” she asks, extending her hand to pet it. James nods his assent, but before she can touch it, the kitten yelps and burrows into James’s hoodie pocket for shelter. “Oh. Not fond of strangers?”
“Not many strangers to be fond of until now,” James says with a shrug, gently stroking the kitten through the fabric to calm it down.
The woman hums. “Understandable. How old is he? What’s his name?”
“We don’t know the age or even if it’s a ‘he’,” James tells her. Determining what’s down there in kittens is surprisingly difficult despite the diagrams online. “So, we’re holding off on a name for now.”
“Oh,” she responds, smiling faintly. “Not raising it on your own?”
“No.” James can’t help his stupid, lovesick grin as he pulls at his pocket to make sure the kitten has some ventilation in there. “It’s me and my boyfriend.”
As if on cue, Regulus returns from the counter, taking the chair on his other side. “Everything’s set, dear,” he says, then kisses James’s cheek, which is odd because Regulus usually avoids PDA. Also, he’s never called James dear before. “Now we just have to wait until they call our names.”
The woman seems a little surprised, but her smile doesn’t falter. “How lovely,” she says. “Good luck with the new family addition.”
After she excuses herself, James turns to Regulus with a smirk. “Dear? What was that about?”
“She was flirting with you!” Regulus hisses.
“How dare she!” James whisper-shouts in feigned outrage, but he can’t help his smile. He feels oddly warm knowing that Regulus can get just as jealous as he does. “In front of our child, no less!” James pats the small bump in his hoodie for emphasis.
Regulus glares at him but tucks himself under his arm when James opens up space for him. “Can’t take you anywhere,” he grumbles.
“Oh, love,” James chuckles, kissing the top of his head. “I only have eyes for you, especially when you’re all possessive and cute.”
Regulus huffs but rests his head on James’s shoulder, settling down for the wait.
From the vet, they learn that the kitten is female, approximately forty-five days old, and in good health. She is given a series of vaccine shots with instructions to return for additional doses in a month. They also set a date for spaying the poor thing once she’s old enough for the surgery.
That leaves them with only one problem: what to name her.
The Potters have a long-standing tradition of naming their pets after superheroes. James tries to stick to it, but Regulus is not very cooperative.
“I’m not naming our cat Cat Woman, James!” he scoffs, careful not to move because said cat is curled on his lap, watching them argue with curious yellow eyes.
“I’m running out of superheroes and villains, Reg,” James complains, lying down on the couch. He nudges his head against Reg’s thigh, asking for his attention as well. His boyfriend instantly indulges him, one hand tangling in James’s hair, the other still petting the soft, dark fur of their cat.
“Maybe we should follow another tradition,” Regulus suggests, pursing his lips. “Maybe we should name her after a star.”
James and Regulus bicker about it for three days straight until they settle on a compromise. They name the cat Starfire and learn that all the fuss was for naught. As it often happens with cats, they barely use her actual name. She has about three dozen nicknames and answers to nothing but the crinkle of the bag of cat treats.
They love her.
·:☼:·
One year and three months after their first kiss, James says, “I was thinking about hitting the stationery store after work tomorrow.”
“Good,” Regulus responds without looking up from the book he’s annotating, Starfire napping on the bed between them. “Get me more red pens, please. You know the brands I like.”
James does. He knows everything about Regulus, including his dislike for surprises and being put on the spot.
“I was thinking of starting a new project,” James says as casually as he can. “I’ll need a binder to plan it, so I’ll stock up on supplies. Good sticky notes and all.”
Regulus hums noncommittally, pen still moving across the page in front of him. “You could use to be a little more organized,” he comments, but there’s no real criticism in his voice.
James doesn’t press further, letting the words sink in like an afterthought. He knows they will; Regulus always remembers what James tells him, regardless of how unimportant it might seem. The sound of the pen scratching against paper slows until it finally stops. Regulus looks up, his eyes wide, and James knows he gets it.
“I spent a lot of time considering the best way to propose to Lily,” James had told him so long ago. “I had a binder and everything. It was color-coded, and I bought the good sticky notes, you’d be proud.”
“I—” Regulus starts, staring back down at the pen in his hand as though it might anchor him. A faint pink dusts his cheeks as he swallows, throat bobbing. “Yeah, I— I think you should get a binder.”
James smiles, relieved. “Good,” he says and reaches for Regulus’s hand. It’s trembling slightly. James kisses his fingers, his palm, and his inner wrist, enjoying the fluttering pulse under his lips. “I think so, too.”
Regulus watches him for a moment, then leans across the distance between them, careful not to disturb their cat. He kisses James, slow and soft and safe. “Thanks for the heads-up,” Regulus whispers. When he pulls away, he’s smiling as well. “And don’t forget my red pens.”
“I won’t,” James chuckles, breathless.
Regulus nods and returns to the book on his lap, cheeks flushed and concentration slightly too painstaking to be natural. James loves him so much, that it’s a physical effort not to reach for him again, but he doesn’t want to put too much pressure on this moment, as it would defeat the purpose.
Leaning back against the headboard, James picks up the book he’d been pretending to read while gathering his wits to bring this up. He hides his dopey, lovesick grin behind the pages. James can’t wait to start planning his proposal. He can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with this man.