I Need You So
James lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of Lee’s words pressing down on him like a stone. The morning light seeped through the thin curtains, casting pale streaks across the room, but he didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe too deeply.
What would life be like without Regulus?
He tried to picture it. Tried to imagine waking up each day and not thinking about him. Not craving the sound of his voice, the way he sang like the world itself bent to his rhythm. Not aching for his touch, his lips, the way he melted against him like he belonged there.
James clenched his jaw, turning onto his side, but it didn’t help. The emptiness was still there.
Lee was right.
Regulus had the privilege of bending rules, but James didn’t. If they got caught, it wouldn’t be Regulus’s blood staining the pavement.
Still…
The thought of letting him go felt worse than anything else.
During the following week James pretended. He smiled when he was supposed to, answered when spoken to, went about his days like nothing inside him was screaming. Like he wasn’t aching in a way that felt unbearable.
At the hotel, he played his set, hands gliding over the piano keys as if everything were fine. But without thinking, without meaning to, his fingers found Regulus’s lullaby. It started as a soft whisper of notes, barely noticeable, just a flicker of something familiar beneath the hum of conversation.
Then, again.
And again.
By the time he played it a third time, he knew he wasn’t fooling himself. He was trying to hold on. Trying to stay close to Regulus in the only way he could allow himself to.
It didn’t help.
If anything, it made the ache worse.
Thursday arrived, and James didn’t go to the band rehearsal. He stayed home instead, with his mother and grandmother. The house felt quieter than usual, the air thick with the weight of his own thoughts. He sat with his grandmother, watching her knit with steady hands, the rhythm of the needles tapping against his restlessness.
“You ain’t goin’ to play with the band today, James?” his grandmother asked, her voice soft but inquisitive.
“No, Gran,” James replied, his voice quieter than he intended. “I thought I’d stay here today.”
His grandmother paused mid-stitch, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. There was something about his tone, something different in the way he was sitting, the way his shoulders were tense. She knew. She always knew.
“James,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “You wanna talk about it, love?
He stayed silent, the words feeling too heavy to speak. But something inside him needed to say it, to get it out. So he took a deep breath, then let the question slip, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Gran… do you remember when Mum met Dad?”
She stopped knitting, her hands folding neatly in her lap. She looked at him with the kind of understanding only a grandmother could offer.
“Of course I do, love. I remember it like it was yesterday.”
James turned to her, looking for some kind of insight, something that might help make sense of the mess of emotions tangled inside him.
“What did you think of him?” James asked, his voice uncertain.
His grandmother didn’t answer right away. She studied him for a long moment, as if weighing something in her mind. Then, without a word, she patted the seat beside her on the couch.
James didn’t hesitate. He moved quickly to sit beside her.
“Well, love,” his grandmother began, her voice slow and deliberate, “of course you’ve heard about how your mother met Fleamont Potter. She never stopped talkin' ‘bout him. Couldn’t get a word in edgewise about that man, not when she’d start goin' on about how he walked into a room like he owned the world. You could tell by the way she spoke—she was already head over heels for him, even before he stepped foot in this house. And I was happy for her, I was, I thought he’d be good for her. She deserved someone who’d make her happy.”
James finally turned his head to look at her, his eyebrows drawn in a mix of confusion and curiosity.
"But then…" She paused, as if the memory was still sharp in her mind. “The night Fleamont came to dinner, I thought it was just another one of her stories. Thought I was just gonna meet some nice English fella who treated my girl right. Well, when I laid eyes on him, I’ll tell you, I was shocked. Just shocked. He was a white man, James. A white man, and my daughter was lookin’ at him like he was the sun itself. I’ll never forget the way my heart just sank when I saw it."
James swallowed hard, he knew exactly how his mother had felt.
“Gran, what did you do?” he asked quietly, his voice unsure.
“I tried, James. I tried every way I knew to talk some sense into her. Told her it wasn’t right. Told her she didn’t know what she was gettin’ herself into, that the world wasn’t gonna let her be with him. But it didn’t matter. She was already too far gone, and you could see it in her eyes. She loved him. And no matter how much I tried to protect her, to shield her from the ugliness of the world, it was already too late. She was in love with him.”
James was quiet for a moment, his thoughts swirling. He knew exactly what his mother had felt because, like her, he was a Black and in love with a white man. He understood the weight of it, the fear, the uncertainty, the way it made you feel both alive and afraid all at once. His fingers nervously tapped against his knee as he stared down at his hands, heart aching. Finally, he swallowed hard before asking, “But... were they in love?”
His grandmother nodded slowly, her eyes softening with the memory. “Of course they were. You can’t control who you love, no matter the color, no matter the laws that try to tell you different. And that’s what made it so hard. My baby girl, she was so happy with him, and I couldn’t tear them apart, no matter how much I wanted to keep her safe. She was happy with him, and that’s all that mattered. Even if it broke my heart to see her go.”
James felt a knot tighten in his chest. “Do you think they’re getting a divorce now?”
His grandmother’s expression shifted, and for a moment, her eyes went distant, as if she was remembering something from long ago. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head. “They’re crazy for each other, James. You don’t get over that kind of love, not unless you’re willin’ to give up everything for the pride of it. Your mother may be mad, but she’ll get over it, and so will your father. They’ll make it work, even if they think they can’t.”
James didn’t answer at first, the weight of her words settling in his mind. But a small part of him couldn’t help but feel doubt creeping in. He knew how pride could ruin things, how it could keep people apart even when they loved each other.
He sighed, looking out the window. “Maybe love just dies with time, Gran. Maybe it just fades away.”
She didn’t immediately respond, but when she did, her voice was firm, full of conviction. “You’re wrong, James. That ain’t love. That’s passion. Real love... well, that’s strong. Stronger than anything. It don’t fade, not with time, not with distance. You can’t control it, can’t contain it. Not even with stupid laws or rules. It’s like the sun. No matter how dark the night gets, it’ll always rise again.”
James glanced over at her, the simplicity of her words comforting, even if they didn’t fully reach the parts of his heart that were aching.
“I saw the way they weren’t talking to each other,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I’m sure they won’t decide to stay together. Not after everything that’s happened.”
His grandmother gave him a soft, understanding smile, though it was tinged with sadness. “Oh, James... they’ll get over their pride. Just wait. They will. You’ll see.”
The room fell silent for a moment, the only sound the soft rustling of her knitting needles. She looked at him closely, as if she was seeing him in a new light, before speaking again, her voice softer this time, almost as if it was a secret she was sharing only with him.
“You know,” she began, her voice quiet but firm, “you’ve got more than just your father’s eyes, James.”
He blinked, surprised by the sudden change in tone. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged slightly, as if the answer was simple, something she didn’t need to explain. “You’ve got his heart, too. Your father... he’s got a good heart. But you, James, you’ve got more than that. More than just his good looks. You’ve got a kind of fire inside you that he never had. That’s something different.”
James stared at her, trying to understand what she meant. “What else do I have, Gran?”
She smiled, her eyes gleaming with something that wasn’t entirely playful. “You’ll figure that out for yourself soon enough, James. But you’re different. And that makes all the difference.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded, her words heavy on his mind. He wasn’t sure what it all meant yet, but he was starting to realize that there were things in him things he didn’t fully understand that might just change everything.
The rest of the night, James couldn't shake what his grandmother had said. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind restless, replaying every word. He wondered if his love for Regulus was just as intense and real as what his parents had. Could it be? Was it? Every dream he had seemed to pull him back to Regulus, to the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his smile, the way he made James feel more alive than anything else ever had.
But when he woke up the next morning, the bed beside him was empty, and the hollow ache in his chest made him realize just how much he was missing. It was like a piece of him had been left somewhere, unreachable, out of his grasp, and no matter how much he tried to fill it with something else, nothing would ever come close to the way Regulus made him feel.
James sat up slowly, rubbing his face, trying to push the weight of his thoughts aside, but it was no use. He couldn't forget. And as much as he tried to avoid it, Regulus was someone he couldn’t resist.
That Friday, James knew he had a rehearsal at 2 o'clock, but the thought of seeing Regulus again twisted something inside him. He couldn't bring himself to show up. He couldn't risk getting close to him, not after everything Lee had said. Deep down, he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the pull, especially those lips—God, those lips. He needed to put as much distance between himself and Regulus as he possibly could. So, he made up his mind not to go.
Instead, he forced himself to focus on something else. He went downstairs for breakfast, his mind drifting with every step. His mother and grandmother were already at the table, talking, but James found it hard to join in. The conversation felt distant, as though it was happening through a fog. His thoughts kept circling back to Regulus, to the warmth of his touch, to the ache in his chest.
After breakfast, he tried his best to socialize, to be present, but it was like trying to swim through quicksand. He couldn’t shake the image of Regulus, the way his skin felt against his, the sound of his laughter. He couldn’t even look at his mother without feeling a twinge of guilt. He was supposed to be paying attention to her, to spending time with her, but all he could think about was how much he missed the boy who had crashed into his life with the force of a storm.
In the end, he found himself back at the piano. His fingers hovered over the keys before he gave in, the soft, familiar melody of Regulus’ lullaby pouring out of him. It was the only way he could stay close to Regulus without actually being with him. As he played, the ache in his chest didn’t go away, but for a brief moment, it was like he was with Regulus again, if only in the music. He closed his eyes, the notes filling the silence, and allowed himself to feel a little less alone.
James was lost in the lullaby’s melody when he heard a knock at the door. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to pull him from the music, and he assumed it was Lee. Lee always had a way of showing up when James least wanted him to—always there, a reminder of the world he was trying to ignore.
Sighing, James stood up from the piano and walked to the door, his heart still heavy. But when he opened it, his breath caught in his throat. Regulus was standing there, his hair messy and his eyes a little too tired for someone who should’ve been smiling. There was something different in the way Regulus looked at him—a sadness that James couldn’t ignore.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Regulus just stood there, breathing out slowly, like he had a thousand things on his mind but wasn’t sure where to start.
“You didn’t show up to rehearsal,” Regulus said, his voice soft but with that sharp edge James had come to recognize.
James felt a rush of emotions in his chest—guilt, longing, confusion. He didn’t know what to say, so he simply nodded.
“I know.” His voice came out quieter than he meant it to, like the words didn’t belong to him.
Regulus looked away for a moment, and the weight of the silence between them felt heavier than anything James had ever felt. When Regulus finally looked back at him, his expression was softer, but there was something desperate in his gaze.
“I—I need to talk to you,” Regulus said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
James felt his stomach tighten, a part of him knowing he should shut this down, should push Regulus away, but another part—the part he couldn’t control—was drawn to him like a magnet. He didn’t know how to walk away from this. He didn’t know if he even could.
Regulus paused for a moment, searching James’s face like he was trying to read him, but when their eyes locked, James saw it. He saw the same pull, the same need. It was there, between them, undeniable. It was too strong to ignore.
“Would you like to come in?” James asked before he could stop himself.
Regulus gave him a small, almost relieved smile, but then he shook his head. “Not here,” he said quietly. “Somewhere where we can have a little more privacy.”
James hesitated, a knot forming in his stomach. He knew where this was headed, and part of him wanted to stop it before it was too late, but another part of him—his heart, maybe—didn’t want to let go. He knew he should say no. He knew he should push Regulus out the door, back into the world where things made sense. But he didn’t.
“Alright,” James said after a moment, the words slipping out before he could think better of them. “I’ll tell my mother I’m heading to rehearsal.”
He shouted back to the kitchen, “I’m going to go to rehearsal, I’ll be back before dinner!” His voice was louder than it needed to be, but the words felt hollow, like he was lying to himself more than to his mother.
Regulus glanced at him, the briefest flicker of amusement in his eyes, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of car keys, offering them to James. “Better if you drive,” he said, a hint of his Southern drawl slipping through. “Wouldn’t want to draw too much attention.”
James took the keys from Regulus without thinking, the cool metal in his palm a sharp contrast to the heat building in his chest. His breath felt too shallow, and the reality of what was happening was sinking in. There was no turning back now.
“Right then,” James said, his accent thick with the sudden rush of adrenaline. “Let’s go.”
Regulus’s smile deepened as James turned to head out the door, the weight of the world on his shoulders, but somehow, in that moment, all James could think about was the boy with messy hair and sad eyes—the boy who had made him forget everything but the sound of his voice.
The drive south was quiet, the car humming along the road as the city of Memphis slowly faded behind them. James glanced at Regulus every now and then, noticing how the boy seemed distant, his usual smooth confidence replaced with something softer, something almost vulnerable. Regulus had given him directions in a quiet, clipped voice, and James followed them without question, each mile stretching the silence between them further.
They didn’t stop until they were almost at the Mississippi border. Regulus pulled the car into a park just off the road, its emptiness somehow fitting for what James was beginning to understand was more than just a simple drive.
When they stepped out of the car, the air felt heavier here—thick with the stillness of a place untouched by time, deserted except for the occasional sound of the wind rustling through the trees. Regulus led him down a narrow path toward the riverbank, where the Mississippi stretched endlessly before them, its waters dark and mysterious in the late afternoon light.
They sat down side by side on the dirt, the cool breeze brushing against their faces, but the air still felt thick with unspoken words. James stared at the river, his thoughts racing in a thousand directions, but his heart kept pulling him back to Regulus.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the soft lapping of the river against the shore, and the far-off calls of birds. The silence between them was peaceful, but James could feel the weight of Regulus’s presence next to him—felt the space between them even when they weren’t touching.
It was Regulus who finally broke the silence, his voice hesitant but carrying that familiar drawl that made James’s chest ache.
“Are you mad at me, James?” Regulus asked, his eyes on the water, but James could see the way his shoulders were tense, like he was waiting for something—waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted.
James’s heart tightened at the question, and he turned to look at Regulus. He could see it in his eyes—the pain, the worry. The uncertainty that had been there since the moment they left his grandmother's house, the same uncertainty that James had tried to shove down into the pit of his stomach for the last few days.
Mad at Regulus?
James shook his head slowly, his voice softer than he intended. “I don’t think I’ll ever be mad at you, Regulus,” he said, his words weighted with sincerity. “Not even if you tried. You could do whatever you wanted, and I’d still…”
He paused, unsure how to finish the sentence, unsure how to explain something that felt bigger than just the words themselves. He knew he couldn’t explain it, not fully. There was no way to articulate what was tangled up inside him.
Regulus looked at him then, his eyes searching James’s face, and James felt like the boy was trying to see right through him.
“I don’t know what I’m doin’, James,” Regulus said, his voice low, almost like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was speaking to James. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I just—I just know I can’t keep away from you.”
James’s heart pounded, the sound of the river drowned out by the way his pulse raced in his ears. He wanted to tell Regulus everything—everything he’d been holding back. He wanted to explain the ache in his chest, the pull that seemed to drag him toward Regulus no matter how hard he tried to fight it. But all he could do was sit there, next to the boy who had torn apart the walls he’d spent so long building.
“I don’t want you to,” James said, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want you to stay away.”
Regulus shifted uncomfortably beside James, his fingers fidgeting as though he was trying to hold back something that had been building inside him for too long. His eyes flickered over to James, and the weight of his gaze was enough to make James’s chest tighten.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Regulus admitted quietly, almost as if he was confessing a sin. His voice was hushed, his breath shaky as he spoke. “I crave your touch, James. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. Every moment without you, it feels like... like I’m suffocating. Even now... sitting here next to you, all I want to do is kiss you.”
James’s heart pounded in his chest as the words settled between them. He could feel the heat of Regulus’s desire, could see it in the way the boy’s hands twitched, the way his eyes darkened with need. There was nothing left to say, no more denying it. James swallowed hard, his own emotions a mixture of desperation and longing.
“There’s nothing keeping you from doing it,” James said, his voice low and steady, though inside he was trembling with anticipation.
Regulus looked at him for a moment, his eyes wide, as though searching for something, perhaps reassurance. And then, without another word, he moved.
It was as if the floodgates had opened, and all the pent-up desire between them rushed forward. Regulus threw himself at James, his lips crashing against his in a fierce, desperate kiss. James’s hands found Regulus’s shoulders, pulling him closer, their bodies pressing together as the kiss deepened. Everything else—the world, the rules, the fear—vanished in that moment, leaving only the two of them, entwined and hungry for more.
James didn’t break the kiss as he gently lowered Regulus onto the ground. His body covered Regulus’s, their chests pressing together as they kissed with a fervor that seemed to set the very air around them on fire. James’s hands moved instinctively, tracing the outline of Regulus’s body, memorizing every curve and line as if he feared this moment might slip away.
Regulus’s hands were in his hair, tugging him closer, as though he couldn’t get enough. James, lost in the sensation of Regulus beneath him, allowed his instincts to take over. The pull between them was undeniable, a magnetic force that neither of them could resist.
For a moment, everything felt right, everything felt real. The world around them didn’t matter; the only thing that mattered was the warmth of Regulus’s skin under his fingertips, the taste of his lips, the sound of their breaths mingling in the still air.
But as they lay there, tangled in each other’s embrace, James knew there would be no turning back now. The line they had crossed was irreversible. There was no going back to what had been before.
Regulus shifted uncomfortably beside James, his fingers fidgeting as though he was trying to hold back something that had been building inside him for too long. His eyes flickered over to James, and the weight of his gaze was enough to make James’s chest tighten.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Regulus admitted quietly, almost as if he was confessing a sin. His voice was hushed, his breath shaky as he spoke. “I crave your touch, James. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. Every moment without you, it feels like... like I’m suffocating. Even now... sitting here next to you, all I want to do is kiss you.”
James’s heart pounded in his chest as the words settled between them. He could feel the heat of Regulus’s desire, could see it in the way the boy’s hands twitched, the way his eyes darkened with need. There was nothing left to say, no more denying it. James swallowed hard, his own emotions a mixture of desperation and longing.
“There’s nothing keeping you from doing it,” James said, his voice low and steady, though inside he was trembling with anticipation.
Regulus looked at him for a moment, his eyes wide, as though searching for something, perhaps reassurance. And then, without another word, he moved.
It was as if the floodgates had opened, and all the pent-up desire between them rushed forward. Regulus threw himself at James, his lips crashing against his in a fierce, desperate kiss. James’s hands found Regulus’s shoulders, pulling him closer, their bodies pressing together as the kiss deepened. Everything else, the world, the rules, the fear, vanished in that moment, leaving only the two of them, entwined and hungry for more.
James didn’t break the kiss as he gently lowered Regulus onto the ground. His body covered Regulus’s, their chests pressing together as they kissed with a fervor that seemed to set the very air around them on fire. James’s hands moved instinctively, tracing the outline of Regulus’s body, memorizing every curve and line as if he feared this moment might slip away.
Regulus’s hands were in his hair, tugging him closer, as though he couldn’t get enough. James, lost in the sensation of Regulus beneath him, allowed his instincts to take over. The pull between them was undeniable, a magnetic force that neither of them could resist.
For a moment, everything felt right, everything felt real. The world around them didn’t matter; the only thing that mattered was the warmth of Regulus’s skin under his fingertips, the taste of his lips, the sound of their breaths mingling in the still air.
James had never felt anything like this before, like his entire body was on fire, like he was drowning in Regulus, in the weight of his touch, in the heat of his breath against his skin. Every kiss, every movement between them, felt like something sacred, something irreversible.
Regulus trembled beneath him, his hands desperate as they pulled James closer, as if there would never be enough space between them, never enough time. And when James felt Regulus guiding him, when he realized what they were about to do, his heart nearly stopped. There was no hesitation, no fear, only want, only the certainty that this was right, that this was inevitable.
The river murmured beside them, the world fading into nothing as they lost themselves in each other, in the quiet surrender of bodies and whispered names.
Regulus’s hands were everywhere, tracing the line of James’s jaw, slipping under his shirt, pulling him closer, and James could feel his body on fire, every inch of him alive with desire. His heart raced, and the world felt so far away, like nothing else mattered but the feel of Regulus beneath him, their bodies pressed so tightly together.
But then, just as James was losing himself in the heat of it all, Regulus pulled back slightly. His breath was shallow, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and his hands fumbled as he reached into his pocket. James looked down, still breathless, as Regulus pulled out a small container of petroleum jelly.
Confused, James lifted an eyebrow. “What’s that for?” he asked, his voice husky from the kiss.
Regulus avoided his gaze, his face turning even redder as he hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Have you... ever been with a man before?” he asked, his voice low and uncertain.
James froze, caught off guard by the question. He had been with girls before, his fair share, in fact, but never with a man. His heart skipped a beat as he tried to find the right words. “No... I haven’t,” he said, his voice quiet. He could feel the weight of the moment, how everything hung in the balance, how vulnerable both of them were. “But... I want to be with you. I’ve never felt anything like this.”
Regulus’s eyes flickered full of softness. “Have you been with another man before?” James asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it. The jealousy that bubbled up in his chest surprised him, but he swallowed it down, not wanting to ruin this moment.
Regulus’s face turned even darker, and he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding James’s gaze completely. James knew the answer without needing to ask again. He could feel it, the way Regulus shifted, the way he didn’t want to meet his eyes.
A part of James felt jealous, but another part of him understood. They both had pasts, experiences before each other, and he didn’t want to let that overshadow what they were about to share.
Instead of pressing the matter, James reached out and gently cupped Regulus’s face, lifting his chin to meet his gaze. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered, his voice soft and reassuring. “Not now. Not with you.”
Regulus’s eyes softened, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other, the world outside them fading away completely once again. He nodded slowly, a small, shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he murmured, “you’re right.”
James kissed him again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if trying to memorize every sensation. Regulus’s hands slid down his back, pressing their bodies even closer, and the kiss deepened, pulling them both further into the haze of desire.
James had never felt anything like this before, like his entire body was on fire, like he was drowning in Regulus, in the weight of his touch, in the heat of his breath against his skin. Every kiss, every movement between them, felt like something sacred.
Regulus trembled beneath him, his hands desperate as they pulled James closer, and when James felt Regulus guiding him, when he realized what they were about to do, his heart nearly stopped. There was no hesitation, no fear, only want, only the certainty that this was right.
James took his time savoring every inch of Regulus, committing him to memory. And as their bodies came together, he felt like the luckiest man alive, because in that moment, he had Regulus in his arms, and nothing else mattered.
...
Regulus shifted slightly in James’s arms, pressing his back more firmly against James’s chest as they lay tangled together in the grass. Their breaths were still uneven, their bodies still thrumming with the aftershocks of what they had just done. James tightened his hold around Regulus’s waist, feeling the warmth of his bare skin under his fingertips.
Regulus turned his head just enough to look at him, his gray eyes heavy-lidded, his lips still swollen from James’s kisses. James let his gaze roam over him, taking in every detail, the way his dark hair was an absolute mess, sticking up in all directions, the way his skin was flushed from head to toe, and most of all, the deep mark on his collarbone, the one James had left there. A sense of pride swelled in his chest at the sight. Regulus was his.
His eyes flickered to the small container of petroleum jelly lying discarded in the grass, almost empty now. A slow, satisfied smile curled at the corner of his lips. He never thought it could be like this, this good, this overwhelming, this right. He hadn’t known what to expect, but now, lying here with Regulus in his arms, he couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Regulus was still watching him, still breathless, and James felt a warmth deeper than desire settle in his chest. He reached up, brushing a damp strand of hair from Regulus’s forehead, before leaning in and pressing a slow, lingering kiss against his shoulder.
James let his fingers trail softly over Regulus’s back, savoring the warmth of his skin. But then Regulus shifted, turning to face him, and James immediately noticed the change, the way his expression had darkened, the way guilt settled heavy in his storm-gray eyes.
Regulus swallowed hard before speaking. “I know this shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw and uncertain. “I just… I couldn’t resist.”
James frowned. “What are you saying?”
Regulus looked away, his fingers gripping the grass beneath them. “After Lee caught us, I knew I should let you go,” he admitted. “I should’ve walked away, I should’ve, but I can’t. I’m too weak.”
James’s heart clenched. He could see it, the war going on inside Regulus, the battle between fear and want, between danger and the pull that kept bringing them back to each other. He couldn’t let him go. Not now. Not after this.
Reaching out, he gently cupped Regulus’s chin, guiding his face back toward him until their eyes met. “Listen to me,” James said, his voice steady. “What happened here between us, this was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. And I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you.” His fingers tightened just slightly, as if anchoring Regulus to him. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you, because I need you.”
Regulus inhaled sharply, his eyes searching James’s face.
“To keep me happy,” James murmured, brushing his thumb over Regulus’s jaw. “If I can’t have you… I cannot go on.”
Regulus let out a shaky breath. “I feel the same.” His voice was hoarse with emotion, and before James could say another word, Regulus surged forward, capturing his lips in a desperate, lingering kiss.
When they broke apart, James pressed his forehead against Regulus’s. “We just need to be more careful,” he said softly. “And everything will be alright.”
Regulus didn’t reply right away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around James, holding him tight, as if afraid that letting go would make all of this disappear. James closed his eyes and held him just as fiercely, swearing to himself that he would never let go.