If there is one thing James Potter loves about Halloween, it’s the mysteries and legends floating in the air.
Alright, maybe his costume isn’t the most original in town. His dark cloak and white fake canine teeth are quite common on Halloween night. His white shirt, even with its lace jabot, isn’t supposed to stand out in the crowd. He dressed quickly, eager to arrive as early as he could.
He’s still a bit bumped, though, because he barely had any time to gather a costume to come to Sirius’ party. His job had taken most of his energy for the past week, and he barely had anything left when Sirius came to him, so excited, and said his brother was back in town and wanted to throw a Halloween party. With costumes, of course.
As Sirius’ best friend, there was no world in which James would’ve said no to this idea. Sirius was ecstatic to have his brother home, and even more when he agreed to a costumed party.
According to what James knew, admittedly not a lot, Regulus wasn’t the type to party a lot, especially not dressing up as scary legends and forgotten myths. It was more a James and Sirius thing. Except this time, because Sirius had told James only a day before that his Friday night would be filled with a party at his place, even if James dreamt of pizza and his bed, horror movies and scary stories, with the moon as the only witness.
It brought him there anyway, dressed as a vampire with a dark cloak and some blood at the corner of his mouth, drinking a cocktail looking suspiciously like blood and tasting nothing like it.
Sirius’ apartment is filled with too many people for James to count, but there is no trace of Regulus. He has seen many friends of his, like Lily and Pandora dressed as cowboys, Dorcas and Marlene, witches, kissing on the balcony. He laughs when he sees them, because they finally admitted their feelings after spending months turning around each other.
Inside the kitchen, there aren’t as many people. He finds a bit of calm here; the music dimmed, and the few people lost in their conversations.
That’s when he sees him.
He’s dressed in a white collared shirt with white and red pearls seamed on it. His lips are painted with a dark burgundy, looking like soft velvet, completing the soft white and dark shades on his eyes, accentuating the silver of his irises. His dark curls are carefully placed around his face, framing it in a dark hallow, striking against his pale skin.
Even if James has had a bit much to drink, is tired from his week, and could’ve cleaned his glasses better, he recognizes who this is.
Regulus Black is stunning, all sharp and cutting edges, and he is impossible to miss. People around throw him glances now and then but don’t dare approach him. James gets them, he realises, but for different reasons. He knows that if he approaches Regulus, he’s going to do something reckless and foolish, something he probably shouldn’t be doing with someone he barely knows and who’s just arrived from years of living abroad. Yet, when Regulus turns his head and catches him looking, he can’t seem to find an ounce of regret in himself.
“Insanely original costume, Potter.”
The remark is said with a biting tone, cutting right through James. And to his own surprise, he likes the sting of it, how his heart stumbles in his chest. His smile earns him a raised eyebrow.
“You’re a vampire too,” he says, and the shadow of a smile hides in the corner of Regulus’ lips. Their colour is hypnotizing, something surreal and depthless.
“That I am.”
James laughs and comes closer, daring to approach. They stand so close to each other – Regulus leaning against the kitchen counter, James right against him – that they can feel each other breaths.
Regulus is even more beautiful up close, and James cannot look away. Not that he wants to, but it is something else to dive into those grey eyes and never wanting to come back up for air.
The thing is, Regulus is his type. Mean and sharp and soft and smart and sarcastic and utterly beautiful. He was doomed from the moment he stepped in the kitchen, from the second he agreed to this party. They talk, and they laugh, and James can feel his heart beating furiously against his ribs. He listens to Regulus’ soft voice and tries to register everything, from his words to the way his lips move.
Later, when James will think of this moment, he’ll suppose it’s where it all started. His gaze lost in Regulus’, their lips so close, their breaths mingling.
He’ll think back on the moment they first kiss, Regulus’ eyes full of desire and James’ heart beating so fast it could be felt in his entire body. James will blame need and desire, and it’ll be the same for Regulus, if a little more.
Their kiss is heated, their lips crashing together, the world tipping off its axis and the room spinning. It isn’t the alcohol in James’ veins, but the intoxicating feeling of Regulus’ lips, of the heat of his mouth, of their hands lost on each other. His hands find Regulus hips, pressing, hoping they’ll leave a mark here, and there. Regulus has one hand in his hair, his slender fingers twisting the locks, the other slides under his shirt and scratches his stomach, his long and pointed nails leaving a trail of crimson, making James hiss.
It doesn’t even stop them. Nothing does. Not the music, so loud the walls are vibrating. Not the lights turning off and on, as people try to settle on a setting. Not the noises around, when people watch them in shock and move to give them some privacy.
In a hurry, James makes his grip on Regulus’ hips firmer and settles him on the kitchen counter. Like an instinct, Regulus’ legs curl around James waist, his heels pressing from behind and getting James closer, closer, closer. James goes without a protest, willing to crack Regulus’ ribs and make a home there.
When they detach their lips, gasping for air, it is only for a few seconds before crashing back together.
James loses track of how long they’ve been kissing, the fire loose in his body. His mind is spinning, or the room around is, and his focus narrows on Regulus against him. His lips aren’t as warm as he’d thought they would be, but he is too lost on how their mouth slots together, and how his hands grips his thighs, or the sounds Regulus makes against his lips.
The heat rises to an entirely new level when Regulus moves his mouth from James’ lips to his neck, kissing all the way up to his ear, leaving a trace of red lipstick behind.
“Come to mine tonight.”
The offer is made in a breath, tickling James’ ear and making him shiver. He nods hurriedly, making Regulus laugh softly. He doesn’t need anything else to take his hand and lead him to the door.
Neither of them think of letting Sirius know where they disappear. They won’t, not until tomorrow morning, when they’ll see hundreds of messages and dozens of missed calls on both of their phones.
For now, Regulus gets James to his apartment. He only lives a few minutes from Sirius’ place, the brothers not wanting to be too far from each other now that Regulus is back in London.
It means that less than five minutes after leaving the kitchen, Regulus slams his door and James crowds him against the wall of his entry, kissing him, devouring him. It means that in less than ten minutes, Regulus falls on his bed, James prompt to follow him.
James has lost his cloak and shirt between the entry and the bedroom, and Regulus has his belt undone and trousers open. His shirt loses a few buttons because of James’ rush, and he makes a dissatisfied noise that James swallows immediately.
There are no time for words, as they come naked on the bed. Their skin are overheated, and the gasps they both let out are noises only for them to hear.
This Halloween night is the start of an uncontrollable storm.
James Potter believes some magnificent curses and twisted miracles happen on Halloween.
The night he spends with Regulus Black is the start of one of them.
It takes a full month for James to realise something is wrong.
He feels tired all the time, getting reprimanded for sleeping at work, gathering weird looks from his friends when he cancels their weekly dinner two weeks in a row and falls asleep when they meet at the theatre.
One day, Lily tells him how paler he looks, and how the dark circles under his eyes concern her most. He gets the same from Remus, and starts to worry when his mother threatens to come and live with him to make sure he eats well and sleeps enough.
He loses weight at an alarming speed, as well as his strength, and feels like his body cannot support him anymore.
The only light in the constant fog he lives in is Regulus.
Regulus, who lives nearby, and visits often. Regulus, who dotes on him and watches him on his day off work, who cooks him nice little meals and watches him eat with a careful eye. Regulus, who lies near him at night, whose presence is something comforting in James’ state.
He clings to Regulus like a lifeline, and Regulus lets him do it. The first week after Halloween, when James still felt fine, they get to know each other. They spend time together, and James barely remembers that he probably should feel a bit guilty flirting and sleeping with Sirius’ brother. It’s hard to, when Regulus looks like that and laughs like this. It’s hard to, when they kiss, and he feels his world spinning faster, his heart out of control. Most of the time, Regulus tastes of that bitter, dark velvet lipstick that reminds him of blackcurrant. James can’t get enough of him. It’s an addicting taste. They are lost in a hypnotic danse no one can get them out of. They tell Sirius, who doesn’t even mind in the slightest, just tell them to protect themselves, making Regulus scowl and James laugh.
When he starts to feel really poorly, he pushes Regulus away. Not with a mean streak, of course, but because he’d rather not see Regulus sick because of him.
Yet, his feverish dreams bring him anyway. During his unrestful nights, he sees Regulus sitting on the side of the bed, bending toward him, kissing his neck softly. He sees him as he was on Halloween night, pale and splendid, mesmerizing, the pearls on his shirt catching the light of the moon, like drops of blood on his ruffled shirt. There are petals of red roses scattered on his beddings, falling from Regulus’ lips.
When he wakes, it’s with the feeling of loss, a headache, and even more tired than he was. He misses his dream and yearns for Regulus to come back, even if it is better not to see each other in the meantime.
His health keeps getting worse, yet Regulus comes back. James finds him as he comes back from work one night on his porch, a thermos of soup in his hands. Something nutritious and hot, to keep you warm and make you better.
James lets him in, and Regulus never leaves after that.
He forces James to stay at home, to rest. He cooks for him, watches over him during the day. James’ eyes start to burn when the light is too bright, so Regulus closes the curtains, and it stays like that for days on end.
And far from the eyes of the outside world, James forgets about everything else, lost in Regulus, his gentle hands, his mesmerizing mouth.
James doesn’t get better. But he falls irremediably in love.
The dreams are rarer when Regulus lives with him, but there is one that he keeps making. It’s the same since he started to feel ill. It comes and goes.
It starts at night. He is in bed, pushing the cover down, trying to cool his temperature, even if the fever becomes worse during the first hours of the night.
His limbs ache, and his head hurt, and he sighs, pressing the ball of his hands to his eyes, wishing for everything to stop.
In the midst of his pain and weariness, he hears his door creaking open, but has no strength to rise. A shadow moves in his room, and he only sees who it is when they stand in front of the window.
Regulus is beautiful, moonlight showering him and basking him in a silver halo. His curls are always perfect, his face tilted as he looks at James. Even now, James feels the force of his absence. How he wishes, yearns, for Regulus to come back, even if he is the one who pushed him away. He misses him deeply.
When Regulus moves closer, James sees he is dressed with the shirt he had on Halloween, and the same lipstick paints his lips a dark velvet. In the night, it looks closer to black than the real burgundy.
Something shifts, and James can feel the mattress as it dips under Regulus weight. Regulus hovers over him, and moves his hand to James’ face. His skin is clammy and hot to touch, clashing against Regulus’ cold fingers, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Regulus’ lips find his forehead, kissing him softly. Then his cheek, his jaw, and his throat. He kisses him sweetly, taking his time, murmuring sweet nothing. James doesn’t dare move, for fear that Regulus could disappear if he tried to touch, to grasp the illusion.
The rest is hazy, there is pain and pleasure, but James won’t remember what happened when he wakes. He’ll see Regulus, the shape of him printed on his eyelids. He’ll see him again and again, standing right behind him. He’ll see his curls, trying to reach them, only to be denied. He’ll feel his mouth against his throat and will feel the loss of it when Regulus stands up, rose petals falling on the white ruffled sheets.
When the sun will rise and the shadow appearing in James’ dreams will be gone, he’ll open his eyes, feeling lost and alone. For a while, he’ll be really alone, as he pushed everyone away.
And at some point, he’ll stop waking alone. It’ll take a few seconds, of him feeling lost, of him feeling alone and weak and terribly angry at himself. And then, he’ll feel cold fingers against his cheek, lips against his forehead, and the face of Regulus will appear, the gentle way Regulus has of loving him enveloping him and making him feel so, so warm. His breathing will become less erratic, and his eyes will close again as Regulus murmurs quietly against his skin, “I’m here, James. You’re okay. I’ll let you get better.”
The confession comes on Christmas Eve.
James feeling incredibly weaker, he had told his friends and family he would see them on the 25th, and that his 24th would be a quiet affair. Regulus, who now spent more time than not at James’ house, had offered to spend the night with him.
It means the night finds them spread on the couch, the fire crackling into the hearth, soft music playing. Regulus has his head on James torso, eyes closed, while James toys with his hair. The only lights are from the fireplace and the Christmas tree they decorated together a few days ago, when James got out of bed for a few hours. It was a sweet moment, something James always dreamed of. Remus had brought a tree for them, James refusing to have a plastic one in his living room, and with the amount of decorations Regulus had found in James’ attic, they had taken their sweet time putting everything together, laughing and kissing all the way. That day had ended on the couch, James falling asleep against Regulus while they were both naked.
Tonight, they haven’t exchanged their presents yet, which are still under the tree. They had dinner and James came to lie down before dessert, his muscles taut and a headache forming. Regulus joined him a few minutes later with two plates. They ate on the couch and Regulus lied down against him.
It was quiet, and James had felt the anxiety rising more and more as time passed. He couldn’t stop feeling guilty about everything. About how he wasn’t his usual self, how what he was offering to Regulus wasn’t his best and brightest. As his fingers combs through Regulus’ hair, he sighs quietly and asks for Regulus’ forgiveness, convinced he can’t hear him.
Yet, Regulus opens his eyes instantly and rises to look James in the eyes.
“What are you asking forgiveness for ?”
James swallows past the lump in his throat, feeling even guiltier looking right in Regulus’ grey irises. “You don’t get to have the best part of me. I’m not really fun, I’m tired all the time, I can’t do anything.”
“We do plenty together, love,” Regulus says as his finger traces the line of his nose, of his lips, stopping on his bottom lip. “I’m happy as it is, and satisfied if you’re worried about that too.”
James laughs, pulling a slight smile from Regulus lips. “I’m glad, but this isn’t the best we could have.”
“Isn’t it ?” Regulus asks, his lips finding James’ ear, and sliding down, kissing his throat. “I get to have you all to myself. I get to take care of you, to lie with you all day, all night, I get to see you soft in the mornings and laughing and crying and everything in between, and I don’t have to share it with anyone else.” His lips trail from his throat to his face again, kissing each of his cheek in a delicate manner before settling on James’ lips.
Their kiss is sweet at first, and gets more heated as James slides his hands under Regulus’ shirt, finding the cold skin under. It takes no time at all for them to get lost in each other.
They end up on the floor, the rug in front of the hearth soft under them. James pulls his joggers back on and gets Regulus in his shirt, soft hand taking their time and brushing his hair out of his face. All the while, Regulus has a distant and worried look on his face. His eyes are covered in sadness, and something else hiding behind, something James fears look like guilt.
And as they look at each other and kiss softly in the night, Regulus murmurs the words that shake James’ world off its foundations.
“I’m the reason you’re so tired and feel so weak all the time.”
It makes James laugh at first, because of how stupid he thinks this is. There is nothing in Regulus who could tire him this much, and he tells him as such, but Regulus shakes his head, his eyes fleeting.
“I’m not joking.”
James frowns at Regulus’ air of guilt and sadness. “Reg, how could you think you-"
“I don’t think I do,” Regulus interrupts him. “I know I do. I drink your energy from you, I make you weak.”
Regulus turns slowly to James, but his words don’t land. James is still lost, still not believing him. It even hurts him, that Regulus could think that. He caresses his cheek, and Regulus leans into the touch.
“Do you remember the night we met ?”
James nods slowly, a smile grazing his lips. How could he forget the night he saw Regulus for the first time, that Halloween party which changed his life.
“You were dressed as a vampire,” Regulus says.
“And a ridiculous one at that,” James laughs quietly, his thumb on Regulus’ lip, who bites it gently before taking his hand and intertwining their fingers, “You were a better vampire.”
Regulus kisses his hand and let go of it. “Because I am,” he murmurs. When James doesn’t answer, he adds, “I am a vampire, James. And I have been feeding from you.”
The words leave Regulus’ red lips and land hard. James stills, processing the words. In front of him, Regulus moves away and puts some distance, not enough that James couldn’t touch him if he moved his hand but still. Yet, James doesn’t move. He stares off into space, barely noticing the maddening habit that Regulus has of biting his lips when he’s worried about something.
And then, as the madman he is, James bursts out laughing.
It takes Regulus entirely by surprise, because of all the reaction he thought of, this wasn’t one of them. Yet, as he looks James right in the eyes, the seriousness of the situation makes him stop dead in his track.
“What ?”
Regulus sighs and fidgets with his rings. “I am a vampire. I have been for some time now. And I saw you at Sirius’ party, smelled you more like, and I couldn’t turn away. Then I had you and I couldn’t stop.” His voice comes in a rush, leaving him a bit breathless, but as James is still not reacting, he keeps going on. “I fed from you that night, made you forget all about it. But you are…James, you are so fucking delicious. I came back the night after that, and again. That’s why you feel weaker every day.”
James frowns, still lost. “But I pushed you away.”
“And I still came.”
“In my dreams.”
“Those weren’t dreams. I came and drank from you, and fed on your blood. You just resisted better when I tried to erase your memories.”
His head is turning, but James remember Regulus painted by the moonlight in his room, the window opened behind him, the door left ajar. Regulus, who seemed to appear in his dreams, but was really there. The petals of Red roses falling from his mouth in those dreams, drops of blood staining the sheets.
“So you’ve been feeding as in…”
“Feeding, as in drinking your blood.”
The silence feels heavy, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. He sits up and Regulus follows his movement. In one swift motion, Regulus ends up straddling James, gently taking his face in his hands. His cold, cold hands. It’s confusing, to realise it was just there and James never picked up on it, never asked. His brain is running so fast he can't keep up. It’s a series of memories, the way he never saw Regulus outside except at night, or under a coat, sunglasses. How he barely eats, and looks at him with hunger. It should disturb him more than it does right now. He’s curious, if anything. He wishes he understood fully the man sitting on his knees.
“Since when have you been a vampire?”
“A few years ago.”
James’ hands find Regulus’ hips without even thinking, sliding underneath his shirt. The caress is so sweet it could be innocent, if it weren’t for the way James’ fingers dig in Regulus’ skin, demanding, expecting. It sends a shiver down Regulus’ spine, and his lips part slightly. In the light of the fire, James can see two long canines glistening. He raises one of his hand to Regulus’ throat, tilting his head back just so he can see them more clearly.
“A vampire, and you’re drinking my blood,” James murmurs. His gaze is curious, but Regulus misses it because his own eyes are closed, his lips pinching in shame and distress.
It makes James tuts him. “Open your mouth for me, love,” he orders.
Regulus does without protesting, and he whines when James puts pressure on his throat to get his head straight again. He is but a puppet under his hands, letting him do what his heart desires.
When his sweet lips part again, James sees the canines. He knows they aren’t always there, because he would’ve felt it when they kissed.
As if Regulus has read his mind, he says, “They come and go as I wish, or with my thirst.”
“And right now, is it your will or your thirst ?”
Regulus looks right at James, gently takes his free hand and intertwines their fingers. “Both.” His pupils are blown, the grey eaten by the black, desire burning like a wildfire.
“Take what you need.”
It seems to break Regulus from the trance he’s in. He rears back, away from James. “No.”
“You’re hungry, love. I can see it.” James says as he reaches to bring Regulus back to him. His hand finds the back of his neck, bringing his face closer, and he can feel Regulus’ breathing, hard and fast. When James’ eyes catch Regulus’ he sees them even darker than what they were a mere moments ago, dark and full of hunger.
“You don’t deserve to feel that weak for me,” Regulus whispers as his lips find James’ pulse on his throat. It makes James shiver, shaking his whole frame. A fire is lit in his lower belly, one he’s familiar with, associated with Regulus and his marvellous hands, his maddening mouth. He closes his eyes and throws his head back, allowing a better access to his throat. He feels the point of Regulus’ teeth scratching his skin, his tongue following suit to appease the abused skin.
“I’m asking you to feed on me. Do it, love, and let me remember.”
The tether holding the last of Regulus’ restraint snaps, and he sinks his teeth in James’ neck. He feels pain for a second, and then it’s exhilarating. His head spins. One of his hands goes from Regulus’ neck to his hair, and he lets out a moan. The fire in him is let loose, burning him from inside out.
He never wants it to stop. He wants to stay here, feeling his blood pouring out of him, the sensation of Regulus’ lips on his skin, of his hands cradling his skull, his throat. When his vision starts to blur, he begs for it to never, ever stop. He whines when Regulus moves his head back, licks his wound to stop the blood from running down his neck.
He’s breathless, his heart erratically beating inside his chest, threatening to carve out his ribs to go straight to Regulus’ hands.
“I love you.”
It’s the first time he says it, and it makes Regulus’ eyes bulge. “You’re not yourself, the poison I carry is still inside you and you-“
“I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you, in Sirius’ kitchen. I’ve been loving you ever since.”
“I almost killed you. I am killing you.”
“Do it then. Kill me, love. And bring me back again.”
Regulus’ pupils blow to the edge again, and it isn’t because of his hunger for blood this time. His eyes search James’, and he rocks forward to kiss him once he realises James isn’t joking. Their kiss is heated, it’s a battle, a war, a storm, it rages in James and devastate everything in its path.
He loves Regulus. Loves him so fiercely, his mind doesn’t even wish to understand the why and how of their situation. The idea that Regulus feeds from him makes him light-headed and maybe, just maybe, and because he’s absolutely mental, it makes him fall in love with the man even more.
“You’re the most beautiful vampire I’ve ever met,” James says against Regulus’ lips.
It makes the man laugh, and they kiss again after that.
It dawns on them, only hours later, that they probably should do something about their situation. Of course, James is more than happy to let Regulus feed from him, feeling ridiculously jealous when Regulus suggests he could just go back to hunting and feeding from strangers. In return, Regulus is perfectly content to look after James as he did recently, feeding him and watching over him and coddling him.
Yet, they come to the obvious conclusion that they can’t keep going like that, and agree that James needs to get better. It’s a matter of finding their footing in such a situation.
But as they talk, and they kiss, and talk some more, they find out that they are willing to keep trying for eternity. When James offers to Regulus to rearrange his apartment to Regulus’ preferences so he can officially come and live here, Regulus smiles and kisses him softly.
Between a kiss and another, he says quietly, “I’d never thought I could live like that after I was turned.”
James’ heart soars, and he hugs him closer, Regulus’ head resting in the crook of his shoulder.
“I love you, James. And I won’t let you slip from my fingers.”
James is more than happy to comply, and they stay here under the Christmas lights, promising a future and forever.