Black Velvet (James' Version)

The morning light spilled through the kitchen window, painting the room in soft gold. James felt like he was floating as he practically burst through the doorway, a grin stretching across his face. He still couldn’t believe it. Regulus had kissed him. He had kissed Regulus.

His mother and grandmother were already up, busying themselves at the stove and table, while Lee sat at the kitchen table, helping himself to breakfast. The scent of coffee and fresh biscuits filled the air.

James greeted his mother and grandmother with a quick kiss on their cheeks before dropping into his seat, still grinning.

His mother arched an eyebrow. “Well, don’t you look like the cat that got the cream,” she said, eyeing him with amusement. “What’s got you in such a good mood this morning?”

Before James could answer, Lee, with his deep Southern drawl, smirked. “Must’ve been that gig last night,” he guessed, cutting into his eggs. “How’d it go, boy? That Regulus fella keepin’ you busy?”

James’ grin widened as he reached for a biscuit. It had been more than just the gig. He wanted to tell them everything, how Regulus tasted like smoke and whiskey, how his touch had made James feel alive, the way Regulus’ lips had felt against his, the way his heart had nearly burst out of his chest, but he knew better. He couldn’t talk about that. Not here. Not anywhere.

Instead, he leaned back with a satisfied sigh and said, “It was great. And guess what?” He pulled the folded bills from his pocket and placed them on the table. “Got paid seven dollars.”

Lee let out a sharp whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Boy, you lyin’.” He picked up one of the bills, turning it over like it might vanish. “Seven dollars in one night? Shee-it, that’s damn near half what I make in a week.” He laughed, shaking his head. “You best keep playin’ them keys, lil’ England. Might be the only job worth havin’.”

James laughed, tucking the money back in his pocket. “That's not a bad idea.”

But as he reached for his coffee, he couldn’t help but think, if only they knew the real reason he was smiling.

Euphemia poured herself another cup of coffee and turned her attention to Lee with a knowing smile. “Now, enough about James and his music. What about you, Lee? You mentioned a date the other day.”

Lee grinned, leaning back in his chair like a man who had won the jackpot. “Aunt E, I ain’t just go on a date. I met future Mrs. Johnson.”

Euphemia raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Oh, is that so?”

Lee nodded, his smile only growing. “She’s sweet as pie, real pretty too. Got this laugh that makes a man forget every bad thing in the world.”

James blinked, guilt creeping in. He hadn’t even known Lee had a date last night. He’d been too caught up in the gig, too caught up in Regulus, to notice much else.

Their grandmother, who had been stirring something at the stove, turned to Lee with a skeptical look. “Where’d you meet this girl?”

“At The Blue Note,” Lee answered, rubbing the back of his neck.

And just like that, it hit James.

All those times he’d seen Lee dressing up nice throughout last week, slicking his hair just right, he’d been so sure it was about Regulus. A stupid, jealous thought that had twisted in his gut. But noz Lee had been dressing up for her. For a girl.

James felt ridiculous for ever thinking otherwise, but the relief that washed over him was undeniable. His grin stretched even wider, and he took another bite of his biscuit, feeling lighter than before.

Their grandmother, however, didn’t look impressed. “I don’t trust them musicians.”

Lee groaned. “She ain’t like that, Grandma. She different.”

Euphemia laughed, shaking her head. “Lord, young love is always somethin’ to see.” She took a sip of her coffee, amusement dancing in her eyes.

James just sat there, grinning, the warmth of last night’s kiss still lingering on his lips, and the knowledge that Lee had never been trying to compete for his Regulus’s attention made his heart soar even higher.

James’s grandmother wiped her hands on her apron and turned to the boys, fixing them both with a knowing look. “Y’all comin’ to church with me tomorrow?”

Lee leaned back in his chair, stretching lazily. “I’ll think on it, Granny.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Boy, you need a whole lot more of sweet Jesus if you plannin’ on marryin’ a soul singer.”

Lee chuckled, holding up his hands. “Now, now, don’t go judgin’ before you even meet her.”

James smirked at their back-and-forth, but then his grandmother turned to him, expectant.

“And what about you, James? You gonna join me?”

James hesitated. He’d never set foot in a Southern Baptist church before. He didn’t know if he wanted to, but before he could find the words, she smiled.

“Oh, you’ll love it, baby. They got a piano,” she added, like that would be enough to convince him.

James glanced at his mother, searching for some kind of answer, but Euphemia only sipped her coffee, amusement twinkling in her eyes.

He turned back to his grandmother and forced a smile. “I’d love to accompany you.”

He wasn’t sure if that was true, but he supposed he’d find out soon enough.

James’s answer made his grandmother’s face light up, her eyes sparkling with delight. She clapped her hands together and beamed at him. “Oh, bless your heart, James. I knew you’d come around.”

James smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him at the sight of her joy. It was a simple thing, but it made him happy to see the old lady so pleased.

The conversation drifted away as they finished breakfast, and soon enough, they moved into the living room. The air was thick with the scent of coffee and the quiet hum of the morning as his grandmother settled into her favorite armchair, tugging a woolen blanket around her legs. Lee found his spot on the couch, stretching out lazily, while James perched on the edge of the chair, his mind still half-occupied with last night.

His grandmother reached over to turn on the radio, and soon the crackling sounds of blues filled the room, the familiar voices of local DJs spinning records. It was one of those moments that felt suspended in time, warm, simple, and comforting.

James glanced at his mother, then back at his grandmother, who hummed along to the music. For the first time in a while, he felt at peace.

...

The next morning, James was jolted awake by his mother’s voice, urging him to get up and get ready for church. He groggily rubbed his eyes, still half-dazed from the previous night. The soft memory of Regulus’s kiss lingered at the edges of his mind, but his mother’s persistent calls snapped him back to the present.

Back in England, James’s family only went to the Anglican church once or twice a year—mostly for formal occasions or holidays. He had never been to a service like the one his mother was preparing him for, and his only real knowledge of church was from books and the occasional movie.

He dragged himself out of bed and, unsure of what to wear, opted for simple clothes: a neatly pressed shirt and trousers, nothing too flashy or out of place. He wasn’t sure what was expected at a Southern Baptist church, and he didn’t want to stand out for the wrong reasons. He knew his grandmother would be more than happy to provide the answer to that.

Downstairs, the sight of his grandmother immediately made him feel out of place. She was dressed to the nines, with pearls around her neck, and a wide-brimmed hat perched atop her head, and white gloves. James couldn't help but smile at the contrast between her vibrant, elegant style and his own more modest attempt at looking presentable.

His mother, too, was dressed smartly, in a modest but elegant outfit, and she kissed James on the cheek before leading him to the car.

Once they arrived at the church, James’s mouth dropped open. The building was small, yet alive with energy, and people were already streaming through the doors. The sound of voices singing could be heard from the outside, the distinct gospel style reaching his ears. He had heard gospel music on the radio before, but the feeling of it, of hearing it live, in person, was something else entirely.

James felt the air buzz with an electric energy as they entered the church. The entire space was vibrant with color, with people moving around, exchanging hugs and greetings, and the preacher’s voice rising above it all. The warm scent of incense mixed with perfume, and the music was loud, full of life, and infectious.

It was nothing like the Anglican services he’d attended back home, where everything was stiff, quiet, and proper. This church was full of life, people were on their feet, clapping, singing, and shouting out. It was exuberant and raw in a way that James had never known before.

His grandmother found them a seat, and as they settled into the pew, James couldn't help but stare, wide-eyed, at the people around him. The rhythm of the music, the energy, it was like nothing he'd ever seen. The preacher was up front, his voice booming with passion, and the congregation responded with cheers, claps, and shouts of "Amen!"

James felt both out of place and at home all at once. As the choir’s voices rose, weaving through the church with an infectious rhythm, James couldn’t help but feel the electricity in the air. The harmony of the voices was rich and full, layered with such passion that it felt more like a performance than a hymn. The deep, soulful tones of the singers reminded him of a blues concert, of the same raw spirit he’d felt when Regulus sang the a couple nights ago.

His fingertips tingled with the familiar urge to play, to somehow contribute to the music that swirled around him. The rhythm was undeniable, and James swayed ever so slightly, caught up in the energy that filled the room. He couldn’t help but smile. There was something in the music, something familiar, that made him feel alive, as if it had woken a part of him that had been dormant all this time. The energy was so tangible, so alive it made him feel like he was part of something bigger, something powerful.

When the last hymn ended, the crowd began to settle, and James’s grandmother turned to him James had just finished soaking in the last of the music when his grandmother, ever the matchmaker, gently tugged at his arm. She had that knowing look in her eyes, the one that meant she had a plan, and before James could even process what was happening, she was guiding him across the room.

“There’s someone I want you to meet, baby,” she said with a smile, her voice warm but with that unmistakable undertone of determination.

James glanced around, following her lead, and his eyes landed on a young woman standing near the back of the church, talking with a group of people. She had a soft smile, and there was something about her that made her stand out in the crowd. She was dressed in a pale yellow dress that complimented her smooth complexion, and her hair was pulled back into a neat bun, with just a few curls escaping, framing her face.

“This is Miss Clara,” his grandmother said, not skipping a beat. “She’s the pastor’s daughter—smart, well-spoken. She’s a good girl, James. You should get to know her.”

James nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the situation. He wasn’t sure how to feel about meeting a girl, especially not in the wake of what had happened with Regulus. He had barely just begun to understand the boy's feelings for him, and now here he was, being pushed into a conversation with someone else. James didn't want to disappoint his grandmother, so he offered a smile and stepped forward.

As he approached her, Miss Clara turned toward him and gave a soft, welcoming smile. There was an easy confidence in her posture, and she met his gaze with curiosity, her eyes scanning his face before locking onto his eyes with a look of mild surprise.

“Hello,” she said, her voice soft but clear, and there was a gentle warmth in it. “You must be James. Your granny told me all about you.”

James blinked, caught off guard by the directness of her statement. His grandmother had spoken about him, but he wasn’t sure in what context. “Uh, yeah. I’m visiting for a little while. From London, actually.” He added the last part with a bit of hesitance. He wasn’t sure if it was important to her, but it seemed to be a point of interest for some people.

She smiled again, her lips curving upward, and James felt an oddly uncomfortable. “London, huh? That’s a long way from here. You must be used to a different kind of life.” Her eyes flicked to his, and then she leaned in a bit closer, as if studying him, her smile growing.

“I’ve never met anyone from there before,” she said, and then her gaze lingered on his face, particularly on his eyes. She tilted her head slightly, her smile turning into something more intrigued. “You’ve got the most fascinating eyes. Like... almost green. They’re somethin' special.”

James blinked, taken back. No one had ever mentioned his eyes in such a way before. Sure, back in England, people had remarked on their unusual color, often fascinated by how the hazel shifted depending on the light. But here? In Memphis? He had expected mean comments about his skin or his accent, not a genuine compliment about something as specific as his eyes.

The realization hit him like a wave. His miscegenation, his mixed blood, was something that stood out wherever he went. But in Memphis, in the South, it wasn’t something that earned admiration. It was often met with disdain, discomfort, or worse. Yet here, this was complimenting him. And it felt odd. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful, flattered, or uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention, especially not in a place where he had already felt the weight of people’s judgments.

“Uh, thank you,” he stammered, caught off guard by the compliment. He shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other. “I guess... they’re just hazel. They change depending on the light, I guess.”

Clara chuckled lightly, her smile never fading. “They’re more than just hazel,” she said, her voice soft and warm. “They’ve got this... depth to them.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the compliment, it was just that... well, it wasn’t right. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing something wrong, even though nothing had happened. He wasn’t even sure what was happening between him and Regulus, just that kiss, just one moment, but it was enough to make him feel like he shouldn’t be standing here, talking to Clara.

He hadn’t seen Regulus since Friday night, but the memory of their kiss, the way it had felt, the way it had burned through him, still lingered like smoke in his mind. He’d kissed Regulus. And Regulus had kissed him back. It had been brief, fast, but it was everything in that moment, and it had felt like they were crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. And now here he was, standing in front of a girl, accepting her compliments, like it didn’t matter.

The guilt gnawed at him. How could he stand here, pretending everything was normal with a girl like Clara when Regulus was at the back of his mind, stealing every thought?

The conversation with Clara continued, but it felt distant now. She spoke about the town, about her father’s church, about the things she liked to do, but James wasn’t fully there. Every time he smiled or nodded, he couldn’t shake the image of Regulus’s face in his mind. The way he kissed him. The way his hands had felt on James’s skin. It was like everything in his world was colliding, pulling him in two directions at once.

He had crossed a line with Regulus. That much he knew. And now, standing here with Clara, he felt like he was standing at the edge of something else. Something he couldn’t yet name.

James couldn’t shake the feeling of Clara’s eyes on him as his grandmother kept talking about her all the way home. She was going on and on about how “well-raised” Clara was, how “smart” and “respectable,” and James could barely focus. His mind was elsewhere. Somewhere deeper, somewhere darker. He needed Regulus. His body ached for it, a hunger he couldn’t explain, and his thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss, to the warmth of Regulus’s lips, to the way he felt alive in a way he never had before.

James tried to push the feeling away. He tried to focus on his grandmother’s voice, trying to play along, but it was hard when all he wanted was to be with Regulus, to feel his presence, to taste the fire of that kiss again.

When they finally arrived home, James was practically buzzing with impatience. The house felt too small, too quiet, too empty. His grandmother still talking, his mother humming as she went about her chores, and all he could think about was getting out, getting away. He needed to breathe, to forget about Clara’s sweet words and the nagging sense of guilt that was creeping up on him.

“James, are you listening?” his grandmother asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I was telling you I think you and Clara might be a real good match. What do you think?”

James smiled tightly, trying to keep the conversation going. “Yeah, she seems nice,” he said, his voice distant. “Real sweet.”

His grandmother beamed. “Well, you should take her out sometime. I think she really liked you.”

James barely heard the words. He nodded, then tried to steer the conversation away. “I, uh... I’m just a little tired from the church, you know."

He made his way to the kitchen, hoping for a moment of peace when the doorbell rang, breaking through the stillness of the house. It was Lee, his cousin.

“Hey, James,” Lee said, stepping in with his easy smile. “So, how was church?”

James barely looked up, distracted, as he shrugged. “It was fine. Different from what I’m used to... lots of singing.”

Lee raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How was the service? You still awake enough to talk about it, or you might need a nap?”

James chuckled lightly, but it didn’t feel right. “Yeah, no nap needed. Just... a lot to think about, I guess.” He tried to steer the conversation again, but his mind was on one thing, and one thing only Regulus.

Lee leaned against the kitchen counter, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “You seem off, man. Somethin' on your mind?”

James snapped back to the present, forcing a smile. “Nah, just... you know, church stuff. Family stuff.”

Lee didn’t buy it. “Sure,” he said with a little laugh. “You sure you’re alright? You’re lookin’ a little too restless for someone just back from church.”

James couldn’t hide the tension in his shoulders. “I’m fine, really,” he said, his voice too tight. “Just thinking about stuff.”

But he also felt a gnawing discomfort, like the world was a little too big for him to fit in properly. He wasn’t supposed to want this. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, not about a man, not about a man like Regulus. He had to push the thoughts aside. He couldn’t let himself go there, not now, not yet.

Still, in his chest, his heart beat faster, and the thoughts of Regulus wouldn’t let him go. They were like a song stuck in his head, and no matter how hard he tried to focus, all he could hear was the melody of that kiss, the beat of Regulus’s laugh, and the way he felt when they were together.

James closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, the tension in his body slowly melting away. Maybe, just maybe, he could let himself have one more moment of peace before everything changed.

James barely had time to process what was happening when someone knocked on the door again. His mom, who was busy in the kitchen, called out, “James, could you get that?”

James let out a frustrated sigh, feeling the weight of the world pressing in on him. He didn’t want to be bothered. He just wanted some time to calm his mind, to get his thoughts together, but the interruptions kept coming. He could feel his face tighten with irritation, but he knew he couldn’t ignore his mother’s request.

With a heavy heart and an even heavier step, James walked to the door. As his hand reached for the handle, he tried to shake off the tension that was building in his chest, but it was no use.

When he opened the door, the air in his lungs was knocked out, leaving him breathless for a moment. There, standing on the doorstep, was Regulus.

The sight of him—Regulus, with his messy hair, his worn-out jacket, his eyes slightly wide as if he, too, couldn’t quite believe what was happening—stunned James into silence.

Regulus spoke quickly, his words tumbling out like a flood. “I know I shouldn’t be here, especially after what happened Friday, but I... I couldn’t stay away, James. I had to see you.”

James’s heart skipped a beat, his mind racing. It felt like the whole world had shrunk down to this one moment—Regulus, standing on his doorstep, looking as desperate as James felt.

James’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile. “You can come in if you want,” he said, his voice quieter than he’d meant it to be.

Before Regulus could answer, they both heard Lee’s voice from inside, “Who’s at the door?”

James quickly shot Regulus a glance, his mind working fast. He didn’t want anyone else to ask questions, to poke their noses where they didn’t belong.

“We should go somewhere else,” Regulus murmured, glancing over his shoulder toward the living room.

James nodded, quickly stepping outside and shutting the door behind him. “I’m just going for a walk,” he muttered, almost as if he were talking to himself. He didn’t care if anyone asked further questions—they didn’t need to know.

Before anyone could stop them, James closed the door with a soft click, the sound of the world falling away behind it.

He turned to Regulus, his heart racing again, but this time for a different reason.

They didn’t need anyone else to make this moment feel real. They didn’t need anything but each other, and as they walked into the quiet of the street, the weight of the world felt just a little bit lighter.

They stepped away from the house, the quiet of the morning street wrapping around them like a heavy cloak. James noticed how Regulus kept looking over his shoulder, checking for anyone who might be watching, his movements cautious. It wasn’t like Regulus to be so jittery, but James understood the feeling all too well—after all, they were walking a line neither of them had ever dared cross before.

They walked in silence for a while, each step taking them farther from the familiarity of the neighborhood. James’s mind raced, a mix of excitement, fear, and anticipation swirling in his chest. Every second that passed felt like it was pulling them closer to something inevitable, something both terrifying and thrilling.

Finally, Regulus stopped. His eyes darted around, scanning their surroundings, and when he found a secluded spot, tucked away behind an old wooden fence and sheltered by thick trees, he nodded toward it.

James followed, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as they crossed into the shadow of the trees. When they were far enough away from the neighborhood, Regulus let out a slow, relieved breath, his shoulders slumping just a little.

"I shouldn't'a come," Regulus began, his voice shaky, as if he was trying to convince himself. "I... I can’t explain what happened Friday. I just—" He paused, running a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and confused. "We oughta forget about it. It's nothin'. It don’t change nothin' between us. Don’t change the band, don’t change anythin’."

James felt his stomach twist, the words hitting him like a cold wave. He didn’t need to hear that. He didn’t want to hear that. Regulus could try to convince himself all he wanted, but James knew the truth. He knew what was happening between them, what they were feeling—it was too real to deny.

Without thinking, James stepped forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. Regulus’s eyes widened in surprise, but before he could say another word, James leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t gentle or tentative. It was desperate, hungry, and raw—everything James had been holding in since that moment Friday night, everything he had tried to push down.

The kiss was everything. It was the answer to all the questions they hadn’t asked, the promise of something they both knew was impossible to ignore.

James’s mind spun, but for that brief moment, he didn’t care. The world outside of that kiss ceased to exist. There was no band, no rules, no right or wrong. There was only them, together, and James felt everything he’d been holding back flood through him.

When they finally pulled away, both of them breathless, Regulus looked at him—his face flushed, his eyes dark with something James could see but hadn’t been able to name before.

“You—” Regulus started, but his words faltered.

James just shook his head, reaching for Regulus’s hand without thinking. “Don’t say anything,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “It’s not nothing. It’s everything.”

Regulus didn’t answer right away, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. Whatever had been holding them back, whatever doubts they’d had, they were gone now. There was no turning back.

And for the first time in a long time, James felt free.

Regulus stepped closer to James, his breath shaky but filled with an intensity that James couldn’t ignore. Their lips met again in a rush, the kiss deep and urgent. James’s hands slid to Regulus’s bory exploring every bit of it, his body pressing against his, the heat between them undeniable. James felt his pulse quicken, his heart. James could feel beneath the layers of clothing the unmistakable hardness of Regulus's desire pressing against him. A thrill shot through his whole body, and his own arousal grew in response.

But then, just as quickly, Regulus pulled back, his breath ragged, eyes wide with a mix of confusion and something darker. He stepped away, his face flushed, his fingers gripping his own shirt as if trying to hold himself together.

James stood frozen, his body still pulsing with the kiss, but Regulus’s sudden retreat made him painfully aware of the situation. Regulus’s gaze flickered down briefly, and it was clear in the way he shifted that the close contact had affected him more than either of them had expected.

“I... I don’t know what we’re doin’,” Regulus muttered, his voice rough, almost apologetic. “I didn’t...”

James swallowed hard, trying to steady his breath. He could see the confusion in Regulus’s eyes, the way he was struggling to make sense of what had just happened. It was clear that the kiss, that close contact, had thrown Regulus off balance. And James wasn’t sure how to fix it—he didn’t actually wanted to fix it. He loved having Regulus that close to him.

Regulus ran a hand through his messy hair, his face flushed with embarrassment, and James couldn’t help but watch, feeling the pull in his chest. They had crossed a line. And now they both had to figure out where to go from here.

Regulus stepped back, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “Shouldn’t have come. This is... this is too much. I don’t—”

James, tired of hearing Regulus second-guess everything, reached out, grabbing him by the shoulders to stop him. His touch was firm, a silent plea for Regulus to stop running, to stop pushing it all aside like it was nothing.

“Regulus,” James said softly but with an edge of certainty in his voice. “Stop. You know why you came to my house. You were restless. You needed to see me. You needed this—” He paused, looking into Regulus’s eyes, his own heart pounding as he spoke his truth. “I needed it too. It felt wrong without you. You feel wrong being away from me, don’t you? I know I do.”

Regulus froze, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if the weight of James’s words had hit him like a ton of bricks. He opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it again, unsure how to respond.

“I—” Regulus started, but his voice faltered. “We can’t be together, James.”

“Who says we can’t?” James asked, his voice quieter now but filled with disbelief. “Who decides that?”

Regulus looked away, avoiding James’s gaze like the question was too heavy to bear. His lips were still swollen from the kiss, his hair messy and tousled, a flush warming his cheeks. James couldn’t help but admire him—every imperfection, every flicker of vulnerability—somehow making him even more beautiful, even more worthy of devotion than anything James had ever known.

James couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips as he stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch Regulus’s cheek, his fingers lingering for a moment. “You’re perfect, you know that?” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “You’re something worthy of worship. And kissing you... it feels more heavenly than anything else, more real than anything I’ve ever known.”

Regulus, still looking unsure and conflicted, finally met James’s gaze. The air between them was thick with the tension they’d been dancing around for so long. And in that moment, James could see it—the hesitation, yes, but also the need, the want, the desire that mirrored his own.

James smiled, his heart racing, and his next words came out with a quiet determination. “We’ve been running in circles for too long. Let’s stop chasing, stop fighting this. Let’s just... get together already.”

Regulus didn’t respond right away, but his eyes softened, and for the first time, James saw something more than just uncertainty there, he saw the same longing, the same need.