He’s Bringing Toast. (And stealing some)
James
James Potter might be the happiest man alive right now. No, he definitely is.
He’s is trying to focus on his breakfast.
Trying, but failing.
His mind keeps drifting back to last night—the soft warmth of Regulus’s lips on his cheek, the way he smiled after the kiss, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And James had smiled too, all over his face and maybe even a little in his heart.
It was perfect. Too perfect. Almost like something out of a dream, something he’s convinced has been too good to be true.
“James,” Sirius says, leaning across the table with a grin that screams I know something, “you look like you’ve been hit with a Stupefy.”
“I’m fine,” James says, quickly shoving a piece of toast into his mouth to avoid eye contact.
Sirius raises an eyebrow. “Right. Fine.”
“I’m just—thinking,” James mutters, but even he knows that’s a lie. He’s definitely thinking about the kiss. And the smile. And how Regulus had held his hand like he belonged there. He hasn’t told Sirius yet, because Regulus and him kind of forgot to talk about that yesterday. And he wanted to leave it up to Reg because it’s his brother after all. Admittedly, he’s also a little scared of Sirius’s reaction. He’s sure that Sirius knows something, because, like Regulus said, James is obvious. But they never really talked about it.
“Thinking about what?” Sirius presses. “Is it… Regulus?”
James almost chokes on his toast. “What? No! No. Why would it be him?”
Sirius smirks, clearly not buying it. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been staring at the same piece of toast for the past five minutes and looking like you might spontaneously combust?”
“Shut up, Padfoot,” James mumbles, but his face betrays him. His cheeks are flushed, and the weight in his chest has nothing to do with hunger.
That’s when he feels it.
A presence beside him, shifting the air. The temperature seems to rise. James glances up, and there, standing like he’s made of pure confidence, is Regulus Black. James immediately feels himself smile. Hard.
Regulus, looking impossibly perfect in his uniform, hair slightly messy in the way that drives James mad. And the smile. That smile.
“Hey,” Regulus says softly, leaning in slightly, his voice low enough to make James’s heart stutter. “I wanted to say good morning.”
James can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. Of course Regulus would just waltz in like he owns the room. He feels like he might explode just from the intensity of it all. “Morning,” James says, voice a little hoarse, not even trying to hide how much he likes seeing him here, right in front of him.
“Can I sit?” Regulus asks, already sitting down next to James without waiting for an answer.
“Of course.” James’s voice comes out a little more breathless than he intended, but Regulus doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does, and he’s okay with it.
Regulus sits down, casually enough, but his leg bumps against James’s under the table. Just a little touch, but it’s enough to make James feel like he might combust. They sit there for a moment, neither of them speaking, just enjoying the quiet proximity.
“Sirius,” Regulus says, glancing toward Sirius. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”
“Not at all,” Sirius replies, his grin wide, eyes dancing with amusement.
“Great, I wouldn’t have left anyway.”
Oh, James loves him.
Oh.
It’s love? Yes, it’s love. At this point, James isn’t even surprised anymore. Of course he loves Regulus. How could he not?
They settle into a kind of warm, charged quiet. Regulus spoons a bit of James’s eggs onto his own plate without asking, and James narrows his eyes.
“Oi,” he says, nudging Regulus gently with his shoulder. “Those were mine.”
Regulus doesn’t look the least bit guilty. “You weren’t eating them.”
“I was about to!”
“Right, of course. You were just lovingly staring at them while they went cold.”
Sirius snorts into his pumpkin juice.
“You’re so annoying,” James grumbles, even as a grin spreads across his face. “Go steal from your own table next time.”
“You want me to leave?” Regulus asks, raising an eyebrow.
James immediately backpedals. “No! No. Obviously not. Just... at least pretend to have some remorse.”
Regulus hums. “Mmm. No.”
James glares, but it’s all for show. He can feel the warmth of Regulus’s thigh still pressed against his under the table, solid and steady.
Then—slowly, casually—Regulus’s hand brushes against his. A light touch. Testing.
James stills.
Regulus’s fingers move deliberately this time, slipping between James’s under the table like it’s nothing. Like it’s normal. James feels every nerve ending in his body light up. He immediately holds on to Regulus’s hand with absolutely no plans of ever letting go.
His whole face is probably on fire now.
Across the table, Remus looks up from his Daily Prophet crossword and narrows his eyes at him.
“You alright there, Prongs?” he asks, suspiciously. “You look like you’ve just been hexed.”
James chokes on his sip of tea.
Regulus, ever smooth, speaks before James can even sputter out a denial. “He’s fine. He’s just overwhelmed by the taste of powdered cinnamon. Too spicy for him.”
James glares at Regulus with a look that clearly says traitor, but he still doesn’t let go of his hand.
Remus raises a brow and clearly doesn’t believe a word of it, but he lets it go with a quiet smirk.
Sirius leans forward again, looking between the two of them with narrowed eyes. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” James and Regulus say at the same time.
Sirius’s eyes narrow even further. “Uh-huh.”
James clears his throat and tries to redirect the whole thing before it gets more obvious. “So, Regulus,” he says, voice way too casual. “Want me to walk you to your first class?”
Sirius stares. “What? Why?”
James shrugs, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “No reason. Just… figured I would.”
Regulus turns his head slightly, amused. “Oh? You want to escort me now?”
James shrugs again, more nonchalant than necessary. “Just thought I’d make sure you don’t get lost. You know. Dungeons and all. They’re terribly confusing.”
“My common room is in the dungeons,” Regulus says, dry, but the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“You’ve also walked into the wrong room twice this week,” James shoots back.
“One time. And that Charms Club meeting had no right to be that early.”
“I think they were just scared you’d hex them if you stayed,” James teases.
“Maybe I would’ve,” Regulus mutters, grabbing another piece of toast from James’s plate like he owns it.
James watches him fondly, still a little dazed. “So? Can I walk you?”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “If you must.”
“I must,” James says quietly.
Sirius lets out a loud groan. “I’m leaving. I cannot deal with this nauseating tension before nine a.m.”
“Bye then,” Regulus says sweetly, not looking up from his toast.
Remus, watching the whole thing unfold like it’s the best thing he’s seen in weeks, sips his tea and mutters, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but something obviously did and it was about damn time.”
Under the table, Regulus’s fingers squeeze James’s, just once, before he pulls his hand back and stands up, brushing invisible crumbs off his uniform.
James scrambles to his feet beside him, grabbing his bag and bumping shoulders with Regulus in the process.
“Don’t forget your toast,” Regulus says as he starts to walk off.
“Did you leave me any?”
“No.”
---
They fall into step side by side, the warm clatter of the Great Hall fading behind them. The corridor is quiet, save for the faint shuffle of distant footsteps and the occasional creak of a shifting portrait, watching with mild curiosity as the two boys pass.
James feels warm all over—like something inside him is glowing softly, tucked right beneath his skin. Every now and then, his hand brushes against Regulus’s, and he can’t quite decide if he wants to hold it again or if that would actually cause him to pass out on the spot.
They don’t speak at first. It’s not awkward—just quiet, comfortable, but charged. Something buzzes gently between them, like a held breath.
Finally, James clears his throat. “So… are we gonna talk about it?”
Regulus raises an eyebrow, amused. “You’ll have to be more specific, Potter.”
James grins despite himself. “You know what I mean.”
Regulus sighs. “Sirius.”
James nods, glancing over at him properly now. “Yeah. I didn’t tell him yesterday. Or anyone, really. Not because I didn’t want to—God, it was hard not to—but I figured I’d leave that to you. He’s your brother. And you’re the one who’s gotta figure things out first. Not me.”
Regulus doesn’t say anything at first, just presses his lips together like he’s thinking.
“We don’t have to tell him,” James adds quickly. “Not yet. Not until you’re ready. I might tell Remus, though. I sort of need to tell someone, and I’m pretty sure he already knows. He gives me these looks.”
Regulus finally speaks. “It’s not that I’m not ready,” he says carefully. “It’s just… complicated.”
“Yeah,” James agrees softly. “He’s your brother. And also kind of… well. Sirius.”
Regulus lets out a quiet huff of laughter. “Exactly.”
They walk a few more steps, the silence stretching again—but it’s softer this time, easier.
“I don’t want to hide this,” James says, almost a whisper. “Not because I care what anyone thinks—hell, I’d scream it from the Astronomy Tower if you asked me to—but because I don’t want you to feel like something to keep quiet. And I don’t want to feel like something you’d want to keep quiet, either.”
Regulus slows to a stop, and James does too, turning toward him.
“You’re not,” Regulus says, voice low and steady. “You’re the one thing I don’t want to hide. I just… want to tell him right. Not over toast. Maybe once we’re actually dating, when it’s not just a maybe. When we can call it something real.”
James swallows, but he’s smiling now. Wide and warm. “We are real, Reg. But yeah. I get it. We’ll do it your way.”
Regulus softens at that, his mouth curling just slightly. “Thanks. And—if you want to tell Remus, go ahead. Of course you can. I, um… I already told all of my friends.” He pauses. “Which I now realize might’ve been a bit unfair.”
James laughs. “No, it’s fine. Really. Honestly, it makes me feel kind of smug.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too. “Of course it does.”
“I think Sirius already suspects something,” James adds. “Like you said—I’m obvious. But I’ll try not to let it slip.”
Regulus leans in slightly, bumping their shoulders. “And if you do, don’t beat yourself up. I get it. He’s your best friend… though I can’t say I understand why.”
James snorts. “Oi.”
“I’m just saying,” Regulus continues with a teasing smirk, “I told my best friends immediately. So—sorry you can’t. Yet.”
His smile falters just a little. There's guilt behind his eyes now.
James nudges him gently, voice soft. “Hey. It’s okay. I understand. Really. Besides, I know what happened. And I’m… kind of thrilled about it.”
That earns him a real smile—bright and beautiful and so utterly Regulus that James feels like swooning on the spot.
They start walking again, their shoulders brushing with every step, and James makes no effort to move away.
As they round the last corner, the classroom coming into view, James glances sideways again.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he says quietly. “If you want to take things slow, I’m good with that. I’ll wait. However long you need.”
Regulus looks at him then, properly—eyes soft, searching. There’s something in his expression that makes James’s heart skip, then trip over itself entirely.
“You’re not just good, James,” Regulus murmurs, stepping in closer. “You’re kind. And patient. And impossibly annoying, but unfortunately… very kissable.”
James blinks. “Wait—”
But before he can process it, Regulus leans in—up on his toes just a little—and presses a kiss to his cheek. Not rushed. Not casual. Warm and real and full of something that makes James feel lightheaded.
Again.
It’s not just a kiss. It’s something that means something. It means something because…people can snog, can make out, can have sex without it meaning anything. But a kiss on the cheek? That’s always affectionate.
James forgets how to breathe. Same as yesterday when Reg did that.
Regulus pulls back, looking far too pleased with himself. “That one was for breakfast,” he says smugly. “Since I stole all your toast.”
James stands there, dazed, very much in love, and now slightly toastless.
“I—yeah. Okay. Worth it,” he manages, voice cracked with a stunned smile. His hand on his cheek as if capturing the kiss there forever
Regulus smirks and turns toward the classroom door. “See you at lunch, Jamie.”
He slips inside, leaving James in the hallway with a goofy, dazed grin. He called him Jamie.
James usually hates being called Jamie.
But when Regulus says it?
It does things to him.
Yeah. He’s gone. Fully, spectacularly gone.
---
“Remus,” James says, flopping dramatically onto the rug in front of the common room fire. “I need to tell you something.”
Remus raises a brow, barely glancing up from his book. “Let me guess… Regulus?”
James stares at him for a beat. Then mutters, “…Yes. Yes, it is.”
With the air of someone mentally preparing for emotional whiplash, Remus closes his book slowly. “Alright. What happened? Because clearly something did. The way you were acting at breakfast this morning? You’ve got kissed energy.”
James groans and lets his head fall back. “How’d you know? Yes, we kissed and it was… Godric, Moons…” He trails off into a sigh so full of feelings it might combust.
Remus studies him for a moment. Then he says simply, “Okay.”
James props himself up, affronted. “‘Okay’? That’s it? I tell you I kissed Regulus I steal your toast and mock your literary taste Black and you say ‘okay’?”
Remus takes a calm sip of his tea. “You’ve been acting like the tragic lead in a badly-written romance for weeks. Honestly, I thought it had already happened.”
James lets out a dramatic noise and flops face-down on the rug again. “We’re not, like, official yet. But it’s heading there. Probably. Hopefully. He kissed my cheek. Twice. That has to mean something, right? That’s, like… gay marriage levels of intimacy.”
Remus deadpans, “You kissed Sirius on the cheek yesterday.”
“That was different,” James mumbles into the carpet. “That was a bro kiss. This was a heart-fluttering, body-tingling, I-saw-stars kind of kiss.”
Remus raises a brow. “What’d he do, kiss you with tongue?”
“No,” James snaps, glaring at him. “Just a regular cheek kiss. But like… a deeply meaningful cheek.”
With a sigh of resignation, Remus puts his book aside completely. “Okay, let me recap: You and Regulus are not dating, not technically snogging, but there’s a whole lot of cheek-kissing and intense eye contact happening, and you’re spiraling.”
James lifts his head just enough to groan, “Yes. That’s exactly it.”
“And Sirius doesn’t know?”
James groans louder. “No. I mean I guess he suspects it. I’m not subtle. But Regulus wants to wait until we’re, y’know… actually together. Which is driving me mad, by the way. But for him…” He sighs dreamily. “I’ll wait.”
Remus gives him a small smirk. “You’re hopeless.”
“I am. But for him? I’ll be hopeless and pathetic and eat it up with a spoon.”
A beat of silence passes.
Then Remus says, “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
James looks up. His usual goofiness softens into something tender. “I really am. I didn’t mean to be. But now that I am, I can’t imagine not feeling this way. He makes me laugh. He steals my toast. He called me Jamie and I didn’t even hate it.”
Remus smiles, gentle and teasing. “That’s either love or Stockholm Syndrome.”
James narrows his eyes. “You’re a terrible friend.”
Remus sips his tea with zero remorse. “And yet, here you are, baring your soul.”
There’s a pause.
“…Also,” Remus adds, voice dry, “Regulus stopped by earlier to ask if you preferred raspberry jam or strawberry. I asked why. He said, ‘Because I intend to spoil him.’ Then left.”
James short-circuits. “HE WHAT?!”
“Strawberry, right?” Remus asks innocently.
“Remus. I’m going to die. This is it. I’ve peaked. Everything else is filler. And he’s actually worried he might be a bad boyfriend? This is so fucking adorable I might explode.”
Remus pats his head like one might soothe an overly dramatic cat. “Die after breakfast. He’s bringing toast.”
---
The next morning, Regulus brings him toast. With strawberry jam.
And this time, it’s James who kisses his cheek—soft, lingering, meaningful.
Regulus blushes.
So maybe they’re not officially dating yet. Maybe Regulus still needs time.
But this—whatever this is—feels incredible. Exactly as it is.