Two Weeks Notice
For the next two weeks, James lived in agony
The first week, James tried to ignore Regulus's existence. He told himself it was for the best, that if Regulus wanted to think the worst of him, then so be it. But the truth was, Regulus was everywhere. In the apartment, in James’s thoughts, in the unbearable silence that settled in his chest whenever he tried to sleep, truly everywhere.
At first, James had nothing but the emptiness in his chest and the ache of missing something. But then, the memories started to slip through the cracks of his mind, like light shining through a door left slightly ajar.
A memory surfaced, as James was standing in the kitchen, Regulus across from him, arms crossed, watching him fumble with a knife.
"You’re going to cut your finger off," he had muttered, exasperated, before stepping in. His hands, steady, sure, had guided James’s over the vegetables, effortlessly correcting his grip.
James hadn’t cared much about cooking then, too caught up in the way Regulus’s lips curled slightly in concentration, the way his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary.
Other times, James would lie in bed, absently running his fingers through his own hair.
The action made something twist in his stomach before he realized why. "You always do that when you’re nervous." He could hear Regulus's voice in his head, see the way his cheeks would turn slightly pink
James squeezed his eyes shut, wishing more than anything that Regulus was beside him, that he could reach out and feel his warmth.
Even small things, reminded James of Regulus.
Music, of all things, became unbearable.
The apartment was too quiet, and James had thought that putting on some records might help, only for another memory to slam into him like a punch to the gut.
Regulus, flipping through vinyls with practiced ease, shaking his head at anything that wasn’t a first pressing. “Music is important, Potter,” he had said, serious as ever. “You should treat it with respect.” James had laughed, thrown an arm around his shoulders, kissed the side of his head, just because he could.
Now, all he could do was sit on the couch, head in his hands, and an ache in his chest.
The second week was worse.
James lay sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes as he clutched the phone to his ear. His voice was edged with frustration, but beneath it, there was something raw, something desperate.
"I'm losing my mind, Sirius," he groaned. "I feel like some lovesick teenager. I need Regulus. I need him like I need to breathe, and he won’t even look at me.”
On the other end of the line, Sirius sighed. “Yeah, well, I can’t say I blame him.”
James sat up, heart pounding. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Sirius’s voice was flat. “James, you really don’t get it, do you?”
James clenched his jaw. “Then explain it to me, because I sure as hell don’t understand why he won’t even give me a chance to fix this.”
Sirius exhaled sharply, like he was debating whether to say what was really on his mind. "Look, mate, you might not remember, but Regulus does. And whatever he remembers, it hurt him. Bad. And now, from where he’s standing, you’re doing it again."
James ran a hand through his hair, frustration burning in his chest. “That’s not fair. I’m not with Kacey anymore. The second I realized...I mean, I broke things off. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
Sirius was quiet for a moment. Then, softer, “Not when he’s convinced you’ll just hurt him again.”
James pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, eyes squeezing shut. He didn’t know how to fix this. But what he did know, without a doubt, was that he couldn’t go on like this, not without Regulus.
James exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I just want to fix things, Sirius. I just need a chance. If he would just listen to me..." His voice broke slightly, and he swallowed hard. "I promise, I'll do everything right this time. I won't mess it up."
Sirius sighed on the other end of the line. There was a long pause, the kind that made James’s chest tighten. He could picture Sirius rubbing a hand over his face, debating whether to say something brutally honest or just let it go.
Finally, Sirius spoke, his voice lighter but still edged with something unreadable. "Are you coming over for the World Cup finals?"
James blinked. "Sirius, I don't have time for football right now."
" Then you make time for football. That’s the rule. Everyone knows it." Sirius shot back. "Look, moping around isn’t going to solve anything. You need a distraction. So come over, have a beer, yell at the telly like a proper lunatic. And maybe, show up on time for once."
James huffed out a tired laugh, rubbing at his temple. "You know I’m always fashionably late."
"Yeah, well, don’t be this time," Sirius said. "Kickoff is at seven. Be here."
James hesitated, glancing toward the clock, as if time itself held the answer. Finally, he muttered, "Yeah. Alright. I’ll be there."
"Good," Sirius said. "And bring snacks. The bad ones. If I have to listen to Remus lecture me about healthy eating one more time, I might actually lose my mind."
James managed a small smile, but as he hung up, the ache in his chest remained. Football might be a distraction, but it wouldn't change the fact that Regulus was still out there, hurting, and refusing to let James in.
...
James arrived late at Sirius’s house, a plate of cookies in a hand and a case of beer in the other. He wasn’t even thinking about football, his mind was occupied with only one thing. One person. Regulus.
Sirius opened the door, arms crossed, an unimpressed look on his face. "You’re late."
James sighed, lifting the plate slightly. "I had to pick up the cookies."
Sirius muttered something under his breath and tugged James inside. "Maybe it’s better this way."
James frowned, a prickle of unease running down his spine. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
Sirius didn’t answer, already leading the way into the living room. James followed, pushing down the uneasy feeling and plastering on something close to a normal expression.
"Hey, Pete," he greeted, spotting Peter sprawled across the couch like he lived there.
Peter gave a half-hearted wave without looking up from the TV.
James set the cookies down on the coffee table by the beer, glancing around. "Where’s Remus?"
Sirius exhaled sharply. "About that—"
Before he could finish, James heard footsteps, and then he saw Regulus.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
James’s heart nearly stopped.
Regulus entered the room with Remus beside him, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Regulus’s pale blue eyes locked onto James, his face unreadable except for the brief flicker of surprise before his expression hardened.
"James?" His voice was tight, wary. "What are you doing here?"
James opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Regulus’s gaze snapped to Sirius, sharp with accusation. "You set this up, didn’t you?"
Sirius scoffed. "Obviously. You two need to talk like grown-ups instead of..." He waved a hand vaguely. "... whatever the hell this is."
Regulus’s nostrils flared. "Oh, so now I’m the problem?"
Sirius groaned, rubbing his temples. "I didn’t say that. But James already knows the truth, and you’re the one still running away. So yeah, maybe stop being so fucking stubborn and have a conversation for once."
Regulus crossed his arms, glaring at Sirius. "You had no right to do this."
Sirius scoffed. "Oh, I’m sorry, did I ruin your grand plan to avoid James for the rest of your life?"
Regulus’s jaw tightened. "It’s not avoidance. It’s self-respect."
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Right. Because refusing to talk like an adult is totally dignified."
"You don’t get to lecture me on dignity," Regulus shot back. "Not when you’re meddling in things that aren’t your business."
Sirius barked out a humorless laugh. "Not my business? You’re my brother, and James is my best friend. I had a front-row seat to both of you falling apart, and frankly, I’m sick of it."
Regulus huffed, turning toward Remus. "And you went along with this?"
Remus raised his hands. "I said it was a bad idea. No one listens to me."
"Because you’re no fun," Sirius muttered before turning back to Regulus. "Come on, Reggie. You’re being ridiculous."
"I’m being ridiculous?" Regulus repeated, voice sharp. "He cheated on me, Sirius."
James, who had been standing frozen in place, felt something twist deep in his chest. "Regulus..."
Sirius let out an exasperated groan. "He didn’t cheat on you!"
Regulus’s eyes flashed. "You don’t know that."
Sirius gestured wildly toward James. "And neither do you!"
Peter, who had been quietly listening to the exchange, finally chimed in, tone maddeningly casual. "Sirius is right, you know."
Regulus whirled on him, seething. "Nobody asked you anything, Peter."
James could feel the argument spiraling, tension thickening the air as Sirius and Regulus bickered. It was only a matter of time before someone, probably Regulus, said something unforgivable. James couldn’t let that happen.
"Regulus," James cut in, his voice firm but not demanding. "Can we talk? Just us?"
Regulus barely spared him a glance, still glaring at Sirius, who looked smug as ever.
"We’re talking right now," Regulus muttered.
James clenched his jaw, swallowing his frustration. "I mean alone. Somewhere private."
Regulus finally turned to him, skepticism written all over his face. He looked like he was about to say no, his mouth already parting, so James took a step closer, lowering his voice.
"Please."
Something flickered in Regulus’s pale eyes, and for a second, James thought he might refuse it anyway. But after a tense moment, Regulus exhaled sharply. "Fine," he said, like he was doing James a great favor.
Relief flooded James. Without thinking, he reached for Regulus’s hand, his fingers curling around Regulus’s wrist before sliding down to his palm. Regulus stiffened but didn’t pull away, and that small allowance sent James’s heart into a tailspin.
James knew he shouldn’t be focused on this the warmth of Regulus’s skin, the way their hands fit together so naturally. But it had been so long since he’d touched him like this, so long since anything had felt right in his life.
He led Regulus out of the room, his pulse thrumming with every step, and tried to ignore the way his own body betrayed him. Every fiber of his being was screaming to turn, to push Regulus against the nearest wall, to kiss him senseless until there was no fight left between them.
But this wasn’t about what James wanted.
This was about fixing what was broken.
And James had no idea if he still had the chance to, but he had to try.
As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, Regulus put distance between them. He took a few measured steps back, like he needed space to breathe, like standing too close to James would be a mistake. James knew that Regulus wasn’t pulling away because he didn’t want to be near him, no he was doing it because he indeed wanted to be closer to James closer than he could allow himself t. As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, Regulus put distance between them. He took a few measured steps back, like he needed space to breathe, like standing too close to James would be a mistake. James knew Regulus wasn’t pulling away because he didn’t want to be near him. No, he was doing it because he did want to be close, closer than he would allow himself to be.
James leaned against the counter, watching as Regulus crossed his arms, his entire body rigid with tension. He was trying so hard to keep control, but James could feel it crackling between them, that same pull, sharp and electric, that had always been there.
Regulus turned abruptly, fixing James with a look that was all sharp edges. "Where’s your boyfriend?"
James tilted his head, brow furrowing slightly. "What?"
Regulus inhaled through his nose, nostrils flaring, his chin lifting just slightly. "Your boyfriend," he repeated, voice clipped. "Where is he?"
James didn’t answer immediately. He just watched Regulus, the way his fingers curled a little tighter around his own arms, the way he was trying too hard to sound indifferent.
He was jealous.
A slow grin spread across James’s lips. He straightened, pushing off the counter, taking one casual step toward Regulus.
"Who?" he asked, voice deliberately light, teasing.
Regulus’s eyes darkened, and James almost laughed at how quickly the irritation flickered across his face.
"You know who," Regulus bit out. "The one with black hair. Loud. Noisy. Overreacts to everything."
James chuckled, another step forward.
"That doesn't really narrow it down," he mused, watching as Regulus's jaw tightened.
Regulus still hadn’t noticed how much closer James had gotten, his focus locked on the words rather than the space between them shrinking.
James let the moment stretch, let the silence hum between them before adding, "Sounds a little familiar, don’t you think?"
Regulus narrowed his eyes, and James caught the flicker of something else underneath the annoyance.
Another step.
"Kacey," Regulus said, his voice full of jealousy. James could also hear the tension laced into it, the way the syllables felt like something bitter on Regulus’s tongue.
Another step closer. He was barely a breath away now.
"I'm not dating Kacey," James said, watching for Regulus’s reaction.
And there it was, the realization flickering across his face, like Regulus had only just noticed how close James had gotten. James saw the shift in his breath, the way his chest rose and fell, the way his lips parted slightly, like he had something to say but forgot how to speak.
James let his gaze drop, just for a second, to the movement of Regulus’s throat as he swallowed.
"I broke up with Kacey," James told him, stepping even closer, just enough to let the space between them hum with heat.
Regulus’s eyes stayed locked onto his, searching, analyzing, like he was trying to find the lie. "Why?" he asked.
James exhaled a soft laugh, hands finding Regulus’s hips, fingers pressing just lightly, just enough to feel the warmth of him.
"Couldn't keep the guy guessing," he murmured. "So I told him the truth."
Regulus didn’t push him away. He didn’t even move. His eyes flickered, his breath shallow as he asked, "What truth?"
James dipped his head just slightly, voice quiet, almost conspiratorial. "That I’m engaged."
Regulus inhaled sharply, but James kept going, his grip firm, anchoring them together.
"I just didn’t know," he whispered, "because I got in a car accident."
Regulus's fingers twitched against his sides, like he wanted to grab onto something, like he wanted to hold James and shove him away all at once.
"You're not engaged," Regulus said, but his voice wavered just slightly, like he wasn’t sure whether he was telling James or himself.
James smiled, slow and knowing, his fingers pressing a little firmer into Regulus’s hips. "I asked around," he said, "and turns out, you said yes."
Regulus's breath hitched, and James leaned in, their noses nearly brushing.
"And since we never officially broke up," James continued, voice lower now, thick with something dangerous, "that means we still are."
Regulus was staring at him now, something raw behind his eyes, something James could feel without having to remember.
"But you don’t remember..." Regulus started, but James cut him off, shaking his head.
"It doesn’t matter," James murmured. "I don’t need memories to know how I feel about you."
Regulus swallowed again, and James could feel the warmth of his breath against his lips, could feel the tension strung so tight between them it was a wonder they hadn’t shattered already.
"I remember that I want you," James whispered, his hands sliding around Regulus’s waist, pulling him flush against him. "I remember that I want a life with you."
Regulus didn’t say anything. Didn’t move.
And that was all the permission James needed.
He kissed him.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was heat and desperation and every unanswered question crashing between them. Regulus let out a sharp breath against his lips, and James drank it in, pressing him back against the counter, pressing into him like he could force Regulus to understand, to feel, to believe.
Regulus’s hands curled into James’s shirt, not pushing away, not pulling closer, just holding on.
And for the first time in weeks, James felt like he could finally breathe. Soon they were on each other, mouths crashing together in a desperate, heated kiss.
Regulus’s back hit the counter, and James seized the opportunity, hands sliding down Regulus’s waist as he hoisted him up onto the cool surface. Regulus gasped against his lips, and James swallowed the sound greedily, pressing himself between Regulus’s thighs. The kiss was wild, a messy clash of lips and tongues, hands pulling, gripping, searching. Regulus’s fingers tangled in James’s hair, tugging just enough to make James moan into his mouth, hips pressing forward on instinct.
Regulus pushed him back abruptly, palms firm against James’s chest. “James,” he said, breathless, lips red and kiss-bruised.
James staggered back a step, his chest rising and falling heavily. He adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers, the absence of Regulus’s touch already unbearable. “Regulus...”
“I can’t.” Regulus shook his head, his voice uneven.
James ran a hand through his hair, still catching his breath. “I know.” He let out a rough exhale. “I know the whole thing, the cheating, the betrayal, it cut you deep. And you have every right to be hurt. You have every right to hate me.”
Regulus didn’t respond, only watched him with guarded eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“But that James, the one who did that to you, he doesn’t exist anymore.” James took a slow step back, searching Regulus’s face, willing him to see the truth. “I’m not that man, Regulus. I don’t even remember him. And maybe that’s a blessing because I can’t imagine ever hurting you like that. I wouldn’t.”
Regulus’s hands curled into fists on his lap, and James could see the conflict in his eyes, the war between wanting to believe and needing to protect himself.
“I just need one chance,” James continued, voice raw with emotion. “One chance to prove to you that I will spend the rest of my life making it right. That I will love you better, love you the way you deserve. Just let me...”
Regulus surged forward, cutting him off with a bruising kiss. James barely had time to react before Regulus’s hands were in his hair again, dragging him closer, and James melted into it.
He didn’t need words anymore. He just needed this.
They were still tangled in each other when James heard the knock at the kitchen door.
Regulus let out a sharp breath and pulled back, smoothing down his shirt as James took a step away, trying, and failing, to shake off the dizzying effect of Regulus’s kiss. His lips still tingled, his heart pounded against his ribs, and he was fairly certain his glasses were slightly crooked.
“Everything alright in there?” Sirius’s voice came from the other side of the door, suspicious and impatient.
James ran a hand through his hair, attempting to look remotely composed. “Yeah, we’re fine.”
There was a beat of silence. Then: “Did you two finally made up, or do I have to lock you in there until you do?”
James turned to Regulus, raising a brow. Regulus, looking far too pleased with himself, smoothed down his already neat collar and smirked.
Then, before James could say anything, Regulus turned his head toward the door and, loud enough for the whole house to hear, said, “Yes, Sirius. We made up.”
James felt the words like a shock to his system. His breath hitched, his stomach flipped, and something deep in his chest warmed at the sight of Regulus looking like he meant it. Like he wanted this. Like he wanted him.
From the other side of the door, Sirius let out a triumphant scoff. “Took you long enough.”
Peter’s voice followed, snickering. “You owe me ten bucks, mate.”
James groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as Regulus chuckled, his smirk widening. “You placed bets on this?” James called out.
“Of course we did,” Sirius replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You two have been insufferable.”
Regulus leaned in, just close enough for James to feel the ghost of his breath against his jaw. “Well,” he murmured, eyes glinting with mischief. “At least now they can all shut up about it.”
James swallowed hard, his fingers twitching with the urge to grab Regulus and kiss him senseless again. Instead, he exhaled sharply, shook his head, and murmured, “You’re impossible.”
Regulus only smiled.