About Time
Regulus
Regulus has to make a decision.
The Easter holidays are creeping closer, and Effie and Monty asked if he’d like to come home. And yes, they used the word home — and that word alone made something flutter wildly in his chest.
Because the truth is, Regulus wants to go home. He wants to see them again. He wants the warmth of it, the familiarity.
But that’s not the decision he’s stuck on.
It’s James.
It’s always James.
Does he really want to go back like this? Holding hands, kissing each other’s cheeks, hugging like it means more than it should — all without ever saying what they are? Without putting a name to it? What happens when Effie or Monty ask? When Sirius looks at them a little too closely?
He can’t hide it there. Not from Sirius. Not really. They haven’t exactly kept it secret, but they’ve never performed it either. Just a bit of harmless flirting — or so it would seem.
But in that house, with just the five of them?
There’ll be no pretending.
Regulus has to think.
Because the truth is, he wants to date James. Desperately. He’s known that for a while, maybe longer than he’d like to admit. And now? After everything — after the stolen glances, the quiet laughter, the late-night conversations that felt like lifelines — Regulus thinks he might actually be ready.
James seems happy. That has to count for something. Maybe Regulus isn’t as terrible at this as he thought.
And he feels happy too. Which feels rare. Fragile.
He doesn’t want to break it.
But then he wonders — what would even change?
They’d be open. Out loud. No more tiptoeing. Sirius would know, which might honestly be a relief — considering the increasingly suspicious glances and the pointed sarcasm. They’d still hold hands. Still kiss each other’s cheeks and foreheads. Regulus would still bring him toast. They’d still curl up together, still laugh until their ribs ached, still flirt like it was breathing.
The only difference would be that this… thing between them would finally have a name.
Regulus would be James’s boyfriend. And James would be his.
Merlin, that sounds good.
He wants it. He wants him.
So Regulus decides.
It’s a Hogsmeade weekend again. Tomorrow is Saturday.
And after classes, Regulus turns and walks toward the Gryffindor common room — heart pounding, decision made.
---
Regulus hesitates outside the portrait hole for longer than is reasonable. His fingers curl into the sleeves of his jumper, heart knocking against his ribs like it’s trying to escape. He’s already made the decision. He already knows what he wants.
Now he just has to say it.
The Fat Lady gives him a look — something between curious and exasperated — but opens for him without a word. He steps inside.
The Gryffindor common room is warm, golden, loud. Laughter and the crackle of the fire, someone’s enchanted wireless playing faintly in the background. Regulus scans the room, stomach flipping, and then — there.
James.
He’s lounging on one of the armchairs, legs over the side, hair a wild halo of curls, talking animatedly to Lily and Peter, waving his hands like the story won’t make sense unless he acts it out. He looks so at ease here, like he belongs — and Regulus’s breath catches for a moment.
He walks over, awkwardly. Too aware of every step.
James looks up first. And he beams, like Regulus walking into the room is the best part of his day.
“Hi,” James says, pushing up to sit properly. “You wanna join?”
“I—” Regulus clears his throat. “I was… looking for you.”
James raises an eyebrow, interested. The others tactfully pretend not to notice. Or maybe they’ve just gotten used to this sort of thing.
Regulus swallows hard, suddenly wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. “Can I—can I talk to you? Just, um. Over there?”
He gestures vaguely toward a quieter corner of the room, near the windows.
“Sure,” James says easily, already getting up. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Regulus lies.
They walk together, and when they stop, Regulus turns to him. His palms are sweating. This is ridiculous. It’s just James. Just the boy who makes him toast, and laughs at his worst jokes, and who once spent an hour drawing stars on the back of his hand when he couldn’t sleep.
It’s just James.
Which is exactly why Regulus feels like he might throw up.
“So,” he starts. Then immediately regrets opening his mouth. “Um. Tomorrow. It’s. There’s Hogsmeade. You probably know. Obviously. I mean, you go to this school.”
James tilts his head slightly, amused. “I’ve heard of it, yeah.”
Regulus flushes. “Right. Well. I was wondering if you—if you wanted to go. With me.”
A pause. Then—
“Go…?”
“On a date,” Regulus blurts. “With me. Like—a real one. Just us. Tomorrow. If you want. I mean, you don’t have to—obviously—but I thought maybe you might, because we’ve sort of been, you know, doing things, and I think I want to call it—well, not it, I mean us, a thing—like a proper thing, and I thought Hogsmeade could be—”
“Yes,” James says, loudly.
Regulus blinks. “Yes?”
James grins so wide it practically splits his face. “Yes, of course yes.”
And before Regulus can say anything else, James laughs, grabs him, and pulls him into a hug so enthusiastic that he lifts Regulus clean off the ground and spins him.
Regulus lets out a startled laugh — a real laugh, loud and surprised and bright — clinging to James’s shoulders, his face buried against his neck. People are definitely watching. He doesn’t even care.
When James finally sets him down, they’re both breathless, smiling, flushed.
“So,” James says, still holding him, “it’s a date?”
Regulus nods. “It’s a date.”
And god, he feels relieved. Like his whole body has finally unclenched. Like he can breathe properly for the first time in weeks.
They just stand there, grinning at each other.
Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.
---
This time, there’s a real kiss behind the shop. Not an almost kiss. Not a maybe.
A real one.
The date is going great. Honestly, it’s kind of amazing. It’s not awkward at all — which Regulus had definitely been bracing for — and James feels almost unreal. Too good to be true.
Salazar, Regulus is in love.
He’s so in love it’s ridiculous. Utterly foolish. And yet, he feels like the happiest fool alive. James is wearing that brown leather jacket again — the one that makes Regulus want to…well. Do things. Things he probably shouldn't be thinking about in public. And he’s smiling. The whole time. Like he doesn’t know how to stop.
And as much as Regulus tries to keep his cool, tries to stay composed, he can feel the smile tugging at his own lips. Constant. Helpless.
They’ve already been to the Three Broomsticks and Honeydukes. James bought him the peppermint toads again — again — which made Regulus blush like a schoolgirl. And Regulus, without even thinking, picked a flower from the side of the street and gave it to him.
James blushed too. Gave him a soft kiss on the temple in return.
Honestly? It’s kind of perfect.
And now, here they are. Tucked behind a shop, just like last time — the scene of the infamous almost kiss. The air is cool, quiet, a little enchanted. And this time, Regulus is determined.
He wants the kiss. The real one.
They’ve only properly snogged twice so far, and Regulus has been thinking about it way too often since. Why they haven’t been doing it more is honestly a mystery. Though, if he had to guess, it’s because James didn’t want to push — he’s been waiting, letting Regulus take the lead on most things.
Which is sweet. And frustrating. And sweet.
But now — now that they’re on a real date — Regulus wants to make sure James knows that he can take initiative. That Regulus won’t feel pushed. That he wants this.
That he wants him.
He’s not exactly sure how to bring it up. He fidgets, shifting his weight, looking up at James and then away again. His fingers twitch like they’re trying to reach for something without permission.
But still. He tries.
Because Regulus is someone who asks for what they need.
---
Regulus clears his throat, glancing up at James, who’s leaning against the wall in that maddeningly casual way of his — hands in his jacket pockets, head tilted, curls falling perfectly out of place. He looks at Regulus like he’s the only thing in the world worth seeing.
Regulus shifts closer, just a little. Enough to make it obvious. Enough to be brave.
James notices. Of course he does. His smile softens. “You alright?”
Regulus nods. “Yeah. I just…”
He trails off. Salazar, this is harder than it should be. He drags in a breath, forces the words out.
“I liked the kiss,” he says, voice low, almost embarrassed. “The, um. The real ones. I liked them. A lot.”
James’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Yeah?” he says, gently teasing. “Me too.”
Regulus swallows. His hands are cold. He wishes James would hold them. Or maybe he should just grab them. Merlin, this would be easier if he didn’t have to talk about it.
“I was thinking…” he starts again, then falters. “You don’t always have to wait for me to—initiate. Things. I mean. I want you to know that you can… that I want…”
James’s expression shifts — tender and attentive and something else too, something that might just be wonder.
“You want?” he prompts softly, stepping closer. Their shoes are nearly touching now.
Regulus exhales. “I want you to kiss me.”
And that’s it. That’s all it takes.
James’s hands are out of his pockets in an instant, one settling lightly on Regulus’s waist, the other brushing the line of his jaw. His thumb traces Regulus’s cheekbone like he’s memorizing it. Like he already knows it by heart.
Then, he leans in — and kisses him.
It’s slow at first, sweet and sure, but there’s heat behind it. The kind that simmers, waiting to catch. Regulus lets out a soft sound against James’s lips and tugs him closer by the jacket, their chests bumping gently together.
The kiss deepens — no longer asking, just taking. James’s hand slides up Regulus’s back and into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, tugging just a little. It sends a sharp, dizzy spark down Regulus’s spine. He gasps quietly into James’s mouth, and that sound does something. James kisses him harder, more urgently, like something has snapped.
Regulus clutches at him, hands wandering — one flattening against James’s chest, the other slipping beneath the edge of his jacket. He feels the heat of him, the way James is breathing harder, faster. Like he’s been holding this in for weeks.
And maybe he has.
James’s lips trail from his mouth to his jaw, then lower — a kiss to the corner of his mouth, to the hinge of his jaw, and then his neck. Regulus tilts his head back instinctively, heart stuttering as James’s mouth finds a sensitive spot just beneath his ear and lingers.
“Jamie,” he whispers, voice ragged. Because he knows James likes it when he calls him that.
James groans softly against his skin, open-mouthed kisses trailing down his neck. One of his hands slides beneath Regulus’s jumper, calloused fingers brushing warm skin, and Regulus sways forward, boneless, overwhelmed, desperate.
His breath is coming too fast. So is James’s. The air between them is charged, heavy with want and warmth and need.
And then—
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake—”
They jolt apart like they’ve been hexed.
Sirius.
Standing a few feet away, looking torn between scandalized and smug. And next to him, Remus — hand over his mouth, clearly trying not to laugh.
James groans and drops his forehead to Regulus’s shoulder. “Why is it always you?”
“I could ask the same question,” Sirius says dryly, arms crossed. “Why is it always behind a bloody shop?”
“Because there’s no one back here!” Regulus snaps, cheeks blazing.
“Clearly not true,” Sirius says, and Remus makes a noise suspiciously like a snort.
Regulus glares at him. James, still leaning against his shoulder, mumbles something that sounds like “We were having a moment.”
“We noticed,” Sirius says, deadpan.
Regulus makes a strangled noise and buries his face in James’s jacket.
Remus, ever the peacekeeper, clears his throat. “We’ll just…give you a minute. Maybe two. But if you’re not out front in five, we’re sending Peter.”
They turn and disappear around the corner, Sirius grumbling under his breath.
James lifts his head, looking at Regulus with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. “Well. I think we need to talk to Sirius later”
Regulus lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Yeah we do.”
Then James smiles — and suddenly it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.
They got their kiss. The real one.
And maybe next time, they’ll lock the door.
---
They’re still behind the shop, both flushed and laughing breathlessly in the aftermath of being caught. James has backed off slightly — enough to give Regulus room to breathe, but not enough that Regulus could pretend there’s any real distance between them. His fingers are still curled lightly around Regulus’s wrist, warm and grounding.
There’s a beat of silence. Then James clears his throat, looking sheepish and like he’s about to ask a question he’s been sitting on for a while.
“So,” he says. “Just to clarify. That was…a date, right?”
Regulus gives him a flat look. “Yes, James. I literally asked you out on one. And you bought me sweets, took me to lunch, and kissed me behind a building. I’d say that qualifies as a date.”
James laughs. “Okay, okay, fair. But like—just a date? Or, um. Are we… dating?”
Regulus raises an eyebrow. “What’s the difference?”
James opens his mouth. Closes it. Blinks. “I—don’t actually know.”
Regulus smirks. “Brilliant. Good start.”
“Well,” James says, flailing slightly, “I mean, dating is, like—plural. A thing. Ongoing. Like a… you know, a status. Whereas a date is a singular thing. Like an event.”
“That was a lot of words to say you’re afraid to ask if I’m your boyfriend.”
James splutters. “I’m not afraid!”
Regulus tilts his head, smug. “So ask me.”
James narrows his eyes at him, then exhales dramatically. “Fine. Regulus Arcturus Black—”
“Oh, Merlin.”
“—will you do me the immense honor of being my actual, official, title-carrying boyfriend?”
Regulus pretends to consider it, just for the fun of watching James squirm. “I don’t know. It’s quite a lot of responsibility. There might be forms to fill out. I’ll have to speak to the committee.”
James gives him an absolutely wounded look. “You are so mean to me.”
Regulus rolls his eyes fondly, then smiles — a real one. Small but warm. “I’d love for you to be my boyfriend.”
James lights up like someone cast Lumos Maxima directly into his soul.
“Yeah?” he says, grinning.
Regulus nods. “Yeah.”
James immediately pulls him back in for a hug, burying his face in Regulus’s neck. “Good. Because I already told Lily I was halfway there, and it would’ve been very awkward to take that back.”
Regulus snorts. “Halfway?”
James hums noncommittally. “Sixty percent, maybe seventy. Don’t make me give you a number.”
They stand there a moment, just holding each other, both a bit giddy, like the world just clicked into place a little better.
Then James pulls back slightly, more serious now, eyes searching Regulus’s face.
“Hey… about earlier. The kissing. Neck and hands and jumper and all that. I just—did I overstep? I wasn’t trying to, I swear. You said I could initiate things but I got a bit…ah… carried away and I don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable—”
Regulus shuts him up with a kiss.
Soft. Quick. But enough to stop the spiral in its tracks.
When he pulls back, he gives James a look that’s somewhere between amused and affectionate. “You didn’t overstep. I liked it.”
James blinks. “Yeah?”
“Very much,” Regulus says, pointedly. “I may even want to do it again.”
James makes a strangled sort of sound, halfway between a laugh and a groan, and drops his forehead against Regulus’s once more.
“You’re going to kill me.”
Regulus hums. “Not before our next date.”
James grins. “Oh, so there’s going to be a next date.”
“There’d better be,” Regulus says, smug. “I have a boyfriend now. I expect to be courted. And you totally have to ask me next time.”
James lets out a full, loud laugh, and kisses him again, quick and sweet and joyful.
Regulus decides that yes — this — is exactly where he wants to be.
---
James throws open the dormitory door with all the subtlety of a thunderclap.
“I’M DATING YOUR BROTHER!” he announces at full volume, grinning like the sun itself has personally kissed him.
Sirius, lying on his bed upside down with a book balanced on his chest, doesn’t even flinch.
Instead, he says dryly, voice thick with sarcasm:
“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”
Remus, sitting at his desk writing something, snorts. Peter chokes on a Bertie Bott’s bean and starts coughing.
Regulus, hovering just behind James, flushes to the tips of his ears and mutters, “Merlin.”
James elbows him lightly. “Hey. Own it. You’ve been snogged and spoiled. Don’t go shy on me now.”
Sirius finally swings himself upright, tossing the book aside. He eyes them both — James still glowing, Regulus trying to pretend he’s not, and utterly failing.
“Alright,” Sirius says, more gently now, “are you happy?”
Regulus glances at James, who gives him the softest look imaginable — all warmth and affection and a little bit of awe. Regulus nods. “Yeah. I am.”
James adds, “He’s making me the happiest I’ve ever been. So, yeah. Happy.”
Sirius holds their gaze for a moment, then lets out a breath and leans back on his elbows. “Good. That’s what matters. But please don’t make out in front of me anymore.”
There’s a brief pause. Then:
“Also,” Sirius adds with a huff, “thank you for finally telling me. You’ve both been acting like the world’s worst undercover agents for weeks. It was infuriating.”
James smirks. “We weren’t that bad.”
“You giggled when he handed you toast,” Sirius deadpans.
James considers that. “Alright, yeah, that’s fair.”
Regulus sits carefully on the edge of Remus’s bed, still a little unsure of where he’s allowed to be in this space. Sirius notices, and without a word, kicks a pillow at him in a silent make yourself at home gesture. It lands at Regulus’s feet. He blinks, then smiles.
Remus finally turns around in his chair, chin in his hand. “So. Official then?”
James nods proudly. “Boyfriends.”
Sirius groans. “Plural. This is my worst nightmare.”
But he’s smiling when he says it.
---
“Do we tell your parents?” Regulus asks James a few days later.
It’s the first time James has been in the Slytherin common room with him. He said that now that they’re dating, he wants things to be equal. Regulus finds that unbearably adorable. James doesn’t look nearly as at ease here as he does in the Gryffindor common room—not that Regulus can blame him. He told James he didn’t have to come down if he wasn’t comfortable, but James insisted.
There have been a few odd looks, sure, but most people either seem quietly supportive or simply couldn’t care less.
Right now, they’re curled up on one of the sleek black leather sofas, textbooks open as James studies for his NEWTs. Regulus is pretending to study too, but mostly he's watching James.
James glances up from his book at the question.
“Yes. I mean, if it’s okay with you,” he says. “I don’t want to keep it a secret. And even if we tried… well, I doubt I could make it believable. I can barely keep my hands off you.” He smirks.
It’s true. There’s been a significant uptick in touching—little brushes of fingers, casual hand-holding, and quite a lot of snogging now that they’re official. Regulus’s lips are a little sore, actually. But it’s lovely. So lovely.
“Okay,” Regulus says softly. “Then we tell them.” He hesitates, teeth grazing his bottom lip. “How do you think they’ll react? They won’t be… disappointed, right? That you’re dating a bloke. A Slytherin, at that.”
He knows Effie and Monty are the kindest people he’s ever met. Them and James. His boyfriend. Merlin, his boyfriend. He’s still not quite used to saying that—even in his own head.
Still, the question lingers in his chest like a stone. What if they don’t say anything bad, but quietly wish James had chosen someone else?
“Reg, can you look at me?”
Regulus meets his gaze. James places his hands gently on his shoulders, his eyes warm and steady. His glasses have slid down his nose again—Regulus reaches up and pushes them back into place. James smiles.
“They won’t be disappointed,” James says firmly. “They love you. They do—don’t argue, I know they do. And they love me. So of course they’ll love us. There’s literally no one better out there for me, and they’ll think so too. Anyone can see how happy you make me.”
Regulus’s heart feels too big for his chest. He doesn’t say it—I love you—because it might still be a little too soon. But he thinks it. Over and over again. James is just… amazing. And he’s probably right. They’ll be fine. Most people are. Maybe he doesn’t need to be so scared.
He leans in and kisses James.
James kisses him back instantly, one hand cradling Regulus’s face, the other pulling him closer. Regulus doesn’t care that they’re in the Slytherin common room. Not one bit. The kiss is slow and sweet, and James is holding him just the way Regulus loves. Regulus tangles his fingers in James’s hair because he knows that’s his favorite.
Naturally, they get interrupted.
“Regulus Arcturus Potter!” Barty exclaims from across the room, voice full of mock outrage.
They’d started calling him “Potter” just to tease him. Honestly? Regulus doesn’t mind. He kind of likes it.
“We do not allow such filth in this common room!”
James and Regulus pull apart with twin sighs.
“Oh, please,” James mutters. “As if you and Evan don’t do it all the time.”
Barty gasps, hand to chest like James just insulted his lineage.
“We are tasteful. You, Potter, look like you’re seconds away from shagging on that sofa. There are first years here.”
Evan appears over Barty’s shoulder, raising an unimpressed brow. “Honestly, it’s embarrassing. Can’t believe we lost Regulus to this.”
James blinks. “I’m literally just sitting here—”
“You were attached at the mouth not five seconds ago,” Barty says dryly. “It’s disgusting. He used to be cool.”
Regulus, still nestled against James with a smirk playing at the edge of his lips, doesn’t say anything yet. He’s enjoying this.
James scowls. “Okay, one: I am cool. Two: I’ll have you know Regulus likes when I kiss him.”
“Oh, darling,” Evan sighs. “He’s in a phase. Like that time he decided dueling club was beneath him and only did silent spellwork for a month.”
“That was a great month,” Regulus mutters, mostly to himself.
James turns to him with a betrayed little noise. “Are you going to defend me or what?”
Regulus finally sits up straighter, expression sharp and calm in that way that always shuts people up.
“Barty. Evan. Piss off.”
They both freeze.
Barty recovers first. “Oof. That’s the tone. The Regulus Tone. You’ve done it now, Evan.”
Evan lifts both hands. “I’m going. I’m going.”
Barty doesn’t move, just eyes James thoughtfully. “Fine. But if he ever breaks your heart, I’m breaking his nose.”
James brightens. “You’d fight for me?”
“You know I meant Regulus’s heart not yours.”
James pouts. “You’re all so mean to me.”
“You’re a Gryffindor,” Evan calls over his shoulder. “We’re contractually obligated.”
Barty ruffles James’s hair on his way out, making it stand up even more than usual. “Later, Potter. Try not to drool on our furniture.”
They disappear up the stairs. James sighs and slumps back against the sofa, turning to Regulus with a wounded look.
“You’re friends are mean to me. Why are they mean? I’m nice.”
Regulus smirks and threads their fingers together. “You knew what you were signing up for.”
James squeezes his hand. “Worth it.”