Through Enemy Eyes

The safehouse was dimly lit when they returned, the fireplace crackling in the corner, casting long shadows on the walls. James had never been so relieved to see again—or, well, to have his sight back. He still wasn’t entirely convinced Regulus hadn’t secretly enjoyed bossing him around in the dark.

The moment they stepped inside, Sirius was already waiting, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently.

“What the hell took you two so long?” he snapped, eyes flickering between them. “You were supposed to be back twenty minutes ago.”

James opened his mouth to respond, but Regulus cut in first. “A minor complication.”

Sirius’s gaze narrowed. “A complication?”

James sighed, flopping down onto the nearest chair. “Someone hit me with a blinding spell. Regulus had to guide me out.”

Sirius blinked. Then blinked again. His mouth opened—then closed—before he settled on, “You let Regulus guide you?”

James frowned. “Uh… yeah?”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “You—James ‘leap before you look’ Potter—put your life in his hands?”

Regulus, standing beside the door with his arms crossed, huffed. “Believe me, I was just as thrilled.”

Sirius looked between them, something unreadable in his expression. Then, suddenly, his eyes lit up.

“Oh, this is good.” His lips curled into a slow smirk. “This is really good.”

James groaned. “Merlin’s sake, don’t start—”

“I’m just saying,” Sirius interrupted, leaning against the wall, “this is a huge development. My stubborn, reckless best friend trusting my equally stubborn, secretly competent little brother?” He clasped his hands together dramatically. “Character growth.”

Regulus shot him a glare. “Go away.”

Sirius ignored him, turning back to James. “So? How was it? Did he hold your hand?”

Regulus visibly bristled. James, for his part, grinned.

“Well,” James said, stretching out his legs, “he did hold my wrist for a good portion of it. And I may have grabbed his waist at one point.”

Regulus muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like I should’ve left you there.

Sirius cackled. “Oh, I knew this mission would be good for you two.”

“It wasn’t good for anything,” Regulus snapped. “We survived. That’s all that matters.”

Sirius snorted. “Oh yeah? Then why do you look like you enjoyed it?”

Regulus’s eyes darkened. “I will hex you.”

Sirius held up his hands, still grinning. “Fine, fine. But James is smiling too, so don’t just blame me.”

James immediately forced his expression into something more neutral, but it was too late. Regulus gave him a flat look before shaking his head.

“This is exhausting,” he muttered, turning toward the hallway. “I’m going to sleep. Preferably far away from both of you.”

Sirius watched him go, then turned back to James with a raised eyebrow.

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Before you say whatever you’re about to say—”

“Oh, I don’t have to say anything,” Sirius said cheerfully. “Your face is saying it for me.”

James groaned. “I hate you.”

Sirius just grinned. “No, you love me. Which is why I expect a full detailed report on how it felt to let Regulus be your noble, brooding knight in shining armor.”

James grabbed a cushion from the chair and chucked it at Sirius’s head.

The bastard dodged it.

James swore under his breath, leaning back against the chair and staring at the ceiling.

Sirius was annoying, sure. But still—James couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, something between him and Regulus had changed tonight.

Something neither of them were quite ready to acknowledge.

James wasn’t asleep.

He had tried—Merlin, he had—but his mind kept replaying the mission, his pulse still too aware of what it had felt like to be completely blind, relying on Regulus Black of all people to get him out.

And worse—worse than all of that—was Sirius, grinning like a madman, making those insufferable comments.

James groaned, running a hand through his hair. This was ridiculous.

With a sigh, he pushed himself up from the bed and slipped out of his room, the floorboards creaking softly beneath his feet. He wasn’t even sure where he was going, only that his skin felt too tight, his thoughts too loud.

That was when he saw him.

Regulus, sitting at the small table by the window, bathed in pale moonlight. His posture was composed, elegant as always, but there was a tension in his shoulders, a quiet rigidity that made James hesitate.

Still, James wasn’t about to turn back now.

“You’re awake,” he said, voice lower in the quiet space.

Regulus didn’t startle—just shifted his gaze slightly, regarding James with that cool, unreadable expression of his. “So are you.”

James huffed, crossing the room. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Regulus hummed, as if unsurprised. “I assume this is the part where you attempt small talk until one of us gets irritated enough to leave?”

James grinned. “You wound me, Black. Maybe I just wanted to check on my trusty guide.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but there was something almost amused in the way he exhaled. “You were insufferable then, and you’re insufferable now.”

James pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, stretching his legs out. “Yeah, well, I didn’t see you abandoning me.”

Regulus tilted his head slightly, something flickering behind his gaze. “You wouldn’t have made it out otherwise.”

James faltered, something in his chest twisting. He hadn’t expected that—a quiet, matter-of-fact admission.

He swallowed, shifting in his seat. “Well… thanks. For that.”

Regulus arched a delicate eyebrow. “That almost sounded sincere.”

James smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting a warm glow against the cold stone walls.

Then, after a moment, James spoke again.

“So… how’d I do?”

Regulus blinked. “What?”

James leaned forward slightly. “As a blind man. Did I stumble around gracefully, or was it more of a lost and confused drunk sort of look?”

Regulus let out a short, breathy laugh before schooling his expression back into something more neutral. “You were…” He paused, considering. “Marginally less pathetic than expected.”

James gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. “High praise from Regulus Black himself.”

Regulus just shook his head, but the corners of his mouth might have twitched.

Then, without thinking, James let his gaze linger. It was hard not to, really. The way the dim light framed Regulus’s features—sharp cheekbones, elegant jawline, dark lashes casting shadows against pale skin. He looked—

Well. He looked beautiful.

That thought hit James like a stunning spell to the chest, and he sat up slightly, clearing his throat.

Regulus must have caught something in his expression, because he frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” James said quickly, shaking his head. “Just—”

A sudden creak echoed through the room as James shifted, and in the same breath, his chair leg wobbled. He jerked slightly forward—only to find his momentum stopped by Regulus’s hand against his chest.

James barely had time to register the warmth of it, the way Regulus had reached for him on instinct.

And just like that, the air between them changed.

James was close enough now to see the way Regulus’s breath caught—close enough to feel it. Regulus hadn’t moved away yet, and neither had he, and there was something suddenly tense about it—about the way James’s own breath felt unsteady, about the way his heart was beating just a bit too fast.

Regulus’s eyes flicked to his, something unreadable in them. James wasn’t sure who was going to move first—

But then, like a snapped thread, Regulus was the one to pull away.

The space between them returned, and James immediately felt stupid for whatever the hell that was.

There was a long, awkward silence.

James cleared his throat. “Right. So.”

Regulus exhaled, looking somewhere past James, like he was already regretting being in the same room.

Then—so casually it took James a second to process—Regulus muttered, “For someone who couldn’t see, your hand was awfully low on my waist earlier.”

James choked.

Regulus didn’t even look at him.

James opened his mouth—closed it—opened it again. What.

Heat crawled up his neck, his brain short-circuiting between flustered and indignant. “I—oh, piss off, Black.”

Regulus finally glanced at him, lips curving just slightly. “I didn’t say I minded.”

James hated the way his heart did something stupid in response to that.

With that, Regulus pushed back from the table and stood, heading toward the hallway. “Goodnight, Potter.”

James stared after him, still vaguely mortified, still trying to formulate some kind of comeback.

In the end, he just groaned, dropping his head onto the table.

Yeah. He definitely wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.