Black Velvet (James' Version)

James stood frozen, the air thick with the hum of the music that seemed to vibrate through his chest. The man on stage was mesmerizing. His sharp suit, the crisp lines of his silhouette against the stage lights, and the raw, raspy power of his voice all wrapped around James like an intoxicating spell.

The moment he heard the man sing, something inside James shifted. It was as if the entire room pulsed with the rhythm of the song, but it wasn’t just in the air. He could feel it in his bones, in his fingertips. The blues poured through him, leaving an electric trail in its wake. Every note he sang seemed to take on a life of its own, reverberating in James’s veins, pushing him closer to something he couldn't quite understand.

He watched the man's every movement, how he gripped the microphone, how he swayed with the music as if it were a part of him. The energy, the power that he exuded, was something James had never felt before, not in the quiet, controlled life he led in England. This was raw, real, and inebriating.

James’s heart hammered in his chest, and for the first time since arriving in Memphis, he felt an overwhelming urge to do something. His fingers itched, his body wanted to move, to play. He wanted to take over the piano and make it sing with the same depth, the same soul, as the voice that filled the room. He could almost hear it, the piano and the voice blending together in perfect harmony, and he couldn’t shake the need to make it happen.

His head swam with the energy in the room. It was intoxicating.

"Who’s that man singing?" James asked his cousin, his voice almost hoarse as he tried to break free from the spell Regulus had woven around him.

Lee’s smile was knowing as he glanced at James, watching the way the young man couldn’t take his eyes off the singer.

“That’s Regulus Black,” Lee said, his voice carrying the weight of familiarity, like he was talking about a hometown hero.

James rolled the name on his tongue, tasting it as if it were a fine wine. There was something about the way it felt to say it, something smooth and natural, like it belonged there in that room, on his lips. “Regulus Black…” he murmured, liking the way it sounded. It felt right.

“Yeah,” Lee said, his eyes glinting. “He’s brilliant, ain’t he? But you ain’t heard nothin’ yet. Wait ‘til you hear him sing the sad ones. Makes your heart ache just listenin’.”

James didn’t respond immediately. He couldn’t take his eyes off Regulus. The way Regulus moved with the music, the way his voice held all that power at once it was hypnotic. James felt his breath catch every time the man sang, as if the world outside The Blue Note had faded away and there was only that voice, and the feeling that followed it.

When the song finally ended, the room erupted into applause, but James was still lost in the reverberations of it all. Lee, sensing the pull it had on James, patted his chest with the back of his hand in a friendly, almost teasing way.

“Already a fan, huh?” Lee chuckled, leaning in closer. “C'mon, I’ll introduce you to him.”

James nodded absently, his thoughts still tangled in the sound of Regulus's voice, the way it made him feel like he was being pulled into something he couldn’t quite escape but didn’t want to either. “Yeah... Yeah, I'd like that,” he said quietly, still gazing at Regulus, who was now speaking to the crowd, smiling with that effortless charm.

Lee winked. "Alright then, just wait 'til you see what he’s like up close."

Lee grabbed James by the elbow, pulling him toward the front of the stage where Regulus was still talking to the people. James barely had time to process it before they were standing right at the edge of the stage, the music still humming in the air.

As soon as Regulus spotted Lee, his face broke into a wide, knowing grin. He stepped off the stage with fluid grace, his movements smooth and confident, and made his way toward them, the crowd parting slightly in his wake.

“Well, well, if it ain’t Cool Hand Johnson himself,” Regulus teased, extending a hand to Lee with a playful wink. Lee chuckled and shook his hand, clearly accustomed to the nickname.

“You got that right, Reggie,” Lee responded with a grin. “Now, let me introduce you to my cousin. This here’s James.”

James barely managed to stifle a breath when Regulus turned his attention to him. Up close, he was even more striking than from a distance. His sharp features, those striking blue-gray eyes, and the effortless charm he wore like a second skin made James’ heart skip a beat. There was something almost ethereal about him, a mix of elegance and raw power that James couldn’t quite put into words.

Regulus’s eyes seemed to scan James for a moment before a faint glimmer of recognition passed through them. James felt a heat rise in his cheeks, but he couldn’t look away. His gaze was drawn to the faint hint of makeup around Regulus’s eyes, that only enhanced the intensity of his expression. It made James feel even more captivated, as if Regulus had some sort of magic that pulled him in deeper.

"Nice to meet you, James," Regulus said, his voice just as smooth up close as it had been on stage, but there was something softer about it now, a warmth that made James feel both comforted and entirely overwhelmed.

“Y-yeah, nice to meet you too,” James stammered, unsure whether to offer a handshake or just stand there staring like an idiot.

Regulus’s smile widened slightly, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. He could tell James was starstruck, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Lee clapped James on the back, grinning. “Now, listen here, Reggie, my cousin here? He’s a bit of a piano genius.”

Regulus arched an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. “That so?”

James felt a flicker of pride at that but didn’t have time to dwell on it before Regulus smirked. “Well then, how about we put that to the test? Are you and Cool Hand Johnson up for a little improv?”

James blinked. “Cool Hand?”

Lee just chuckled, shrugging like it was obvious. “That’s what they call me ‘round here.”

James barely had time to process that before Regulus leaned in slightly, eyes glinting with challenge. “How ‘bout "Roll 'Em Pete"? Y’all know it?”

Lee nodded instantly, but James hesitated. He wasn’t as familiar with all the local blues standards, but he had heard that one before and he figured he could feel his way through it. “I can keep up,” he said, grinning.

Regulus hummed in approval. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Before James could second-guess himself, Lee was already pulling a saxophone mouthpiece from his pocket, fitting it onto a borrowed instrument with practiced ease. James felt a little ridiculous for not even knowing his cousin played, but he didn’t have time to ask because within seconds, they were moving toward the stage.

James took a deep breath, his heart pounding, not with nerves, but with anticipation. He was about to show Regulus Black exactly what he could do.

Lee started first, his saxophone letting out a few rich, rolling notes that settled over the room like warm honey. James listened, his fingers twitching as he tried to pick apart the rhythm, the feel of it.

Then Regulus stepped in.

"Well, I got a gal, she lives up on the hill…"

His voice was rough and smooth at the same time, rasping just enough to catch James off guard. It was the kind of voice that made you feel something deep in your chest, like it was dragging the song straight out of your bones.

James was so caught up in it that he almost forgot to play.

Regulus turned slightly, his sharp eyes flicking toward James, questioning.

James grinned, his fingers finally finding the keys.

He let himself sink into it, feeling out the space between Lee’s sax and Regulus’s voice, filling in the gaps with rolling chords, adding a little swing, a little jazz to the baseline. It was instinct, electricity running from his fingertips straight into the piano.

Regulus smiled.

Not just any smile, one of those small, pleased things, like he liked where James was taking it. Every so often, between lyrics, he turned just a little, just enough for James to catch the flicker of approval in his blue eyes.

Lee, standing to the side, looked downright smug, his sax wailing as he leaned into the music.

James didn’t care about anything else anymore not Memphis, not the laws, not the heat pressing in from the streets outside.

For the first time since arriving, he felt like he belonged. If not to Memphis, then certainly to Regulus.

As the final note faded, the room erupted into applause, the sound echoing off the wooden walls of The Blue Note. James felt his heart pounding, but not from nerves this was something else. Something alive. He had never played like that before, never felt music pulse through him quite like it had just now.

They stepped off the stage, the three of them slipping back toward the bar.

Regulus turned to James, his dark eyes still bright from the performance. "You’ve got some hands on you," he said, voice smooth, amused. "That was damn good."

James felt a swell of pride in his chest, warmth spreading through him like good whiskey. He had impressed Regulus. That meant something.

Lee clapped a hand on James’s back. "Hold up, I thought you ain’t know that song?"

"I heard it once," James admitted with a grin.

Lee blinked at him, clearly baffled. "Man, you somethin’ else."

Regulus let out a small, incredulous laugh. "You’re tellin’ me you just played that from ear?"

James just shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but the way Regulus was looking at him made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t quite understand.

Lee shook his head, whistling low. "Damn, Jamie."

Regulus turned back to Lee. "You gotta make him play for me again," he said, half-demand, half-plea, and there was something in the way he said it like James’s music had actually meant something to him.

James wanted to say he’d play for Regulus every night for the rest of his life if it meant he could hear that voice again, if it meant he could see that smile, small, sweet, just for him. But he kept his mouth shut. Because that would sound weird.

They walked to the bar and Regulus ordered a whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the low light. James watched him carefully, transfixed by the way Regulus held the glass, the ease with which he took a sip. It was the first time James had noticed, truly noticed, how young Regulus looked. Maybe a bit older than him, but certainly no older than 19. James had heard that Americans couldn’t drink before they were 21, but here Regulus was, swirling his drink with the kind of casual confidence that made it seem like he was well accustomed to the habit. James tried not to stare too hard, but as Regulus took another sip, James’s eyes flickered downward, noticing for the first time that Regulus wasn’t just younger than most people at the club, he was white. Pale skin, blue-gray eyes, and black hair that was messy in that charming way. James’s mind whirled, trying to process the disparity, especially as he looked around the bar.

The Blue Note was full of people just like Lee and him, black, southern, all caught in the heat of the night and the blues. And then there was Regulus, standing out like a sore thumb, and yet... he fit. James couldn’t explain it, but somehow he did.

Maybe, James thought with a bittersweet smile, the rules were just... bent for a young white man in Memphis.

As Lee and Regulus kept drinking, Regulus looked over at James with a grin. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

James blinked, the question throwing him off guard for a moment. “Nah,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual, “I’m from England.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "England, huh?" He leaned in a little, the faintest glimmer of amusement in his gaze. "That explains it. You don’t sound like you’re from the South.”

James smiled, a little embarrassed by his accent, but also glad to finally answer in a way that felt a little more real.

Regulus raised his glass slightly toward James, a playful glint in his eye. “You sure you don’t want some? It’ll help you loosen up,” he said, his voice smooth like butter.

Lee chuckled when James refused the whiskey. “That’s better, boy,” he said, leaning back against the bar. “Don’t need my aunt on my back if you end up stumbling home tonight.”

James smiled, grateful for the sentiment. He had a sneaky suspicion that Lee wasn’t too keen on getting caught up in any trouble. Still, the thought of whiskey felt good, even if he wasn’t quite ready for it. He'd never had the chance to explore his drinking habits, not in the way his cousin seemed to have.

Regulus leaned back against the bar too, taking a sip from his glass, his eyes flicking over to James every so often as the conversation between him and Lee flowed naturally. James found himself mesmerized by the whole situation. His eyes trailed over Regulus, catching the way the dim light played off his sharp cheekbones, the way his lips curled just slightly when he laughed. He noticed the quiet confidence in Regulus, how at ease he was, even though the law stated that he didn’t belong in a place like this.

Lee noticed James’s stare and smirked, nudging him with an elbow. “You alright there, cousin?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. James didn’t even realize he was staring so intently.

“Oh, uh—yeah. Fine,” James stammered, clearing his throat. “Just—just thinking.”

Lee laughed, turning back to Regulus, and the two continued talking about something James didn’t quite catch. He was too caught up in watching Regulus. His heart raced every time the man smiled, and James could feel his face warming under the attention. He was supposed to be better at this better at holding a conversation, at blending in. But with Regulus, something about him made it impossible to look away.

Just as James thought he might melt into the floorboards from sheer embarrassment, Regulus turned toward him. The sudden shift of his attention made James freeze for a split second.

“So,” Regulus said with that low, velvet-like voice that seemed to make everything else fade away. “What do you think of Memphis so far?”

James could barely keep himself from giggling, feeling like some shy college girl on her first date. Regulus just had that aura about him—magnetic, captivating, like you couldn’t keep your attention away even if you wanted to. “It’s... uh...” James fumbled for the words, his thoughts all jumbled. “It’s different. A bit overwhelming, actually.”

Lee raised an eyebrow, a knowing look flashing across his face. He gave James a teasing glance before turning back to Regulus. “Kid ain’t used to Memphis heat, but I think he’s gonna make it through.” Lee leaned in a little, lowering his voice, “Can’t blame him for getting all starry-eyed, though.”

James’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and he couldn’t quite tell if it was because of Lee’s teasing or Regulus’s gaze, which was still on him with an almost calculating curiosity.

“Ah, is that so?” Regulus’s voice dropped lower, the way it did when he was amused. “I’ll try not to make him swoon too hard, then.” His smirk turned into something softer, more genuine. “But I gotta say, it’s not every day I get to meet someone from England.”

Lee laughed, slapping his hand on the counter. “You got that right. Poor James don’t know what hit him. The blues are different over there, huh?”

Regulus just smiled, big, bright, and perfect, and James thought for a moment he might just die right there.

“Well, maybe I can show you a little more,” Regulus said, giving him a wink, and James could hardly breathe.

Lee nudged him again with a grin. “Don’t make me regret introducing you, kid,” he teased. James’s heart was still pounding, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. 

Regulus took another sip of his whiskey, setting the glass down slowly before glancing at Lee. “Did you get that record deal, man?” he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.

Lee shook his head, a little chuckle escaping his lips. “Not yet. Maybe next time.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing playfully. “What about you, Reggie? You still talkin' to that guy 'bout a record?"

Regulus let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his dark hair. “Nah,” he muttered. “The guy who talked to me about it, he wasn’t too thrilled when he found out I was a regular at The Blue Note.”

Lee raised an eyebrow, a knowing grin on his face. "Guess even your charm can't erase that from your resume, huh?"

Regulus shook his head, a wry smile pulling at his lips. “You’re right. It’s ridiculous, though. The Blue Note is part of me, it's just music, for God’s sake. But they act like it’s a damn crime.”

James watched the exchange, his mind slowly connecting the dots. The undertones of the conversation hit him hard. He could feel the weight of Regulus's words, the implication that white music and black music, like white people and black people, weren’t meant to mix in Tennessee. 

It made James' chest tighten with frustration. He didn’t care about color, about rules or lines that were drawn by people who didn’t understand a single thing about the world. He knew, deep down, that Regulus and him could blend well together. Their music had already done it. But in Memphis, that wasn’t allowed. And it stung, deep in his gut.

James couldn't stop watching Regulus, even though he knew he should. James thought about Regulus' hands, the line of his throat as he sipped his whiskey with that easy confidence. James could feel his thoughts turning darker, but he quickly snapped himself out of it. Those thoughts... he knew better than to voice them. They were the kind of thoughts that could get him arrested back in England, maybe even here, depending on who was listening. He swallowed hard. The idea that he could think about a man this way, it wasn't new, but it still strange. There wasn’t a safe place for him. Not here, not in England, not anywhere. It didn't matter where he went, who he was with, people like him weren’t supposed to exist. His mother had left to England to escape the rules of Tennessee, but now here he was, staring at a world that might as well have been just as unforgiving. His heart hurt thinking about it. There were laws, unspoken rules about who could love who, about who could live how. James knew he could never be himself, not fully, not without risking everything. It didn’t matter if he was with someone he admired, someone who made him feel alive in ways he never had before, if that person was a man, he might as well end up alone. The way James felt would never be allowed, not in a world like this.

James couldn’t decide if he wanted to scream or cry or both. The thought of it, the idea that people could have everything, could be everything, except for him, made him feel small and insignificant. It made him feel like he didn’t deserve to exist in this world, in this skin. And that thought, that bitter, crushing thought, made his heart ache in a way he couldn’t put into words.

Regulus noticed the change in James’s expression, the way his smile faltered and his eyes seemed to cloud over. It didn’t take much for Regulus to see something was off. He leaned in, raising an eyebrow with that characteristic grin of his.

“Everything alright there, sugar? You look like you seen a ghost or somethin’,” Regulus asked, his voice light but filled with curiosity.

James blinked, shaking himself from his thoughts. He couldn’t show what was really going on inside, not with Regulus so close. So, he tried to cover it up, smoothing out the discomfort with a nonchalant shrug.

“Yeah, it’s just the smoke. Not used to it,” James lied, his tone casual but the words feeling hollow even to himself.

Regulus leaned back, letting out a soft laugh. “You’re one of them goody two-shoes types, huh? I can tell. Ain’t a whole lotta folks from across the pond who can handle the real South, especially not in places like this.”

James smirked, trying to shrug it off, though he couldn't help the flush creeping up his neck at Regulus’s teasing. “I’m not that much of a saint,” he muttered, tapping his fingers on the bar nervously.

Regulus just smiled, his blue eyes gleaming. “Sure, sure. How old are you, anyways?”

James straightened up, feeling a bit self-conscious as Regulus’s eyes narrowed with interest. “I’m 18,” he replied, his voice steady.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, his grin widening with amusement. “Eighteen, huh? Ain’t that somethin’.” His voice was full of quiet admiration, but there was also something else there, something that made James feel like he was being seen in a way he wasn’t used to.

Regulus shifted in his seat, taking a sip of his drink before leaning back and letting out a soft sigh. “Well, I’m turnin’ 17 at the end of the month,” he said, almost like it was no big deal. He gave James a pointed look, letting the age gap sink in.

Seventeen? James blinked, stunned for a moment. Regulus was only a year younger than him, but it felt like so much more. Regulus seemed so confident, so sure of himself, like he was already walking in the shoes of someone much older. James, on the other hand, felt lost in this world.

“Seventeen?” James repeated, voice a little higher than usual. “I thought you were older, to be honest. You seem… I don’t know, like you’ve seen the world already.”

Regulus grinned, his eyes dancing with a mix of mischief and a strange kind of sadness. “Nah, I got a lotta living left to do,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “But sometimes, feels like I been around longer than I have.” He paused, the smile fading just a bit as he looked down at his drink. “Seems like it’s the way things go ‘round here.”

Lee took another sip of his drink, glancing at James with a smirk. “You ready to head out, James?” he asked, his voice light but his eyes catching the faint hesitation in his cousin’s posture.

James froze for a moment. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to walk out of that door and let this night slip through his fingers like water. He felt like if he walked away now, he’d lose something, something important. The thought of never seeing Regulus again tightened in his chest, almost like a physical ache. But James didn’t speak it. He couldn’t. He just smiled faintly, trying to hide the knot in his throat. “Yeah, Let’s go. It’s getting late."

Regulus, turned to James with a soft smile, the kind that made everything in James’s chest flutter. His voice was warm and inviting. “I’ll see you again, yeah?” Regulus said, his voice a smooth drawl that seemed to wrap itself around James like the warm night air. “I’m always here on Fridays.”

James’s heart skipped a beat. He nodded quickly, too quickly, his smile stretching wider than he intended. “Yeah, I’ll be here,” he replied, his voice catching slightly. He didn’t mean for it to, but it did. “Definitely.”

For a split second, their eyes locked. Regulus didn’t know the depth of the turmoil growing inside James, the mix of fear and desire that made his pulse race. But he smiled back, and in that smile, James felt like maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t lost something after all.

Lee slapped James lightly on the back, nudging him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go, man. We’ll leave these folks to it,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle.

James turned one last time to look at Regulus, still sitting at the bar, his presence impossibly magnetic. James forced himself to look away, taking a deep breath as they crossed the threshold.

As they stepped outside into the humid Memphis night, James couldn’t shake the feeling that the night had left him changed somehow. He wasn’t sure how or why, but it did. The thought of Wednesday brought a flicker of hope, but it also filled him with dread. Would he be able to keep his cool until then? Would Regulus even remember him? Would it all be worth it?

For now, all he could do was let the night settle in his bones and wait for Friday.