Chapter 2
“I’m telling you, Moony, he’s hot,” James sighed exasperated, falling back on his best friend’s bed.
“Yes, but you say that about anyone who as much as glances your way,” Remus retorted.
“Okay, that was just uncalled for!” He scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest.
It had been two days since he’d met the love of his life, also known as Regulus Black—who was also known as his best friend’s little brother, who was also known as totally off limits, according to Marlene—and James was going insane.
He had to see him again. Had to. Had to make him fall in love with him and stop making a total and utter fool of himself anytime the perfect boy looked at him through those perfectly curled eyelashes behind those perfect grey eyes.
“Look, mate, I’m just saying,” he raised his hands up in surrender, “Is there anything that’s truly different from the others? I mean, he is Sirius’ little brother and you know how—”
“You know how protective he is of his loved ones,” James finished in a mocking tone, “Yes, Moony, I’m well aware.”
Remus gave him a pointed look as he said, “Just—don’t make things messy for nothing, Prongs.”
James sighed. He knew he was right. But, so what? He was only a boy who just happened to have fallen quite miserably for his best mate’s little brother.
“Plus, you know,” Remus shrugged, “You don’t really know him. You just—find him attractive.”
“He’s the love of my life, Moony,” he said.
“Prongs,” he sighed, “I fear you’re just a hopeless romantic.”
“Okay, so I like romance, what does that have to do with everything?” He glared at him.
“Everything?” Remus said, as if James was being the oblivious one.
James scoffed. “Look, just because things with your Black brother are messy—”
“Now, that was uncalled,” he scoffed.
“—doesn’t mean things with my Black brother should be as well,” James finished.
“There aren't even things going on in the first place!” Remus said exasperatedly, groaning into his pillow.
He’d clearly had enough of James’ delusions, but James did not care. There was something. When James had flirted with Regulus, he’d flirted back! Remus said it was because “He just wanted to tease you! He knew exactly who you were, you didn’t, he knew Sirius would kill you if he found out you were flirting with him so he flirted back!” which, to be fair, was… reasonable. But, James had still felt a spark. Like something inside him had clicked into place as he came to the conclusion that Regulus Black was his soulmate. So what if two days ago he had been sort of… mean to him? James liked it.
“This is your funeral, mate,” Remus sighed, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
***
A week passed and still no sight of Regulus. It’s fine, James kept repeating that statement to himself a little too much for it to actually be fine, but oh well.
Of course, Sirius had no idea of this. James would rather be ran over by a truck repeatedly than tell him that, given the fact that if he did tell him James would end up getting ran over by a truck repeatedly with Sirius behind the wheel. He very much liked his body and would like to keep it safely untouched. So this secret was buried. Well, with the exception of Remus, Peter and Marlene—and probably Mary and Lily, since Marlene tended to slip secrets while being drunk, and the three of them had gone to a party with some other friends a day ago and today they’d sent him knowing looks the whole day, so.
But it was Wednesday once again, which meant James had a free day, which meant practicing anyway.
So James was now currently skating through the hockey pitch, mind on the ice—yes, the ice and not the boy with icy grey eyes and black curls.
Unsurprisingly, he was alone in the pitch. It was six in the morning, and he’d been skating for already an hour, so he didn’t know what else to expect. Definitely not another boy walking into the pitch and skating his way through the other end without as much as sparing a glance at James’ direction. Not that boy being the one who’d been on his mind the past week.
Regulus wore all tight and black clothes, even his skates, and no hockey stick. So, figure skater? Woah. Could this man get any more attractive?
James had to blink slowly in order to see if his eyes weren't not playing mind games with him. They weren’t. He fought the urge to pinch himself. Was this a dream? It had to be. Had to. Was the universe really this cliché? Maybe James and the boy standing before him really were soulmates. Or, of course, James was just being delusional. Either way, James found himself skating towards the boy, with a smirk plastered to his face.
“Fancy meeting you here,” James said, making Regulus jump.
“Fuck, Potter, you can’t just jump on people like that,” he hissed. James had to bite the inside of his cheek so as not to fucking beg him to curse again against his mouth.
“Ah, but what would be the fun in that?” He clicked his tongue.
“What are you doing here?” Regulus retorted, bored.
“Skating?” James said.
“Why?”
“I’m a Hockey player, as I’ve already told you.”
“But, I thought no one would be here,” Regulus muttered, seemingly to himself.
“Thought so too,” he shrugged, “I always come here.” Regulus just scowled at him, and something warm blossomed in James’ chest. “I thought you were an art student.”
“Can’t someone have a hobby?” He blinked.
“Well, yes, but you’re, like, perfect,” James said, not thinking much about it until he saw the furious blush threatening to show on Regulus’ neck. “I mean—like, figure skating. Not that you aren’t perfect, but—”
“Got it, Potter,” Regulus grumbled, cheeks slightly flushed.
“Right, yeah.” As he said this, more people started gathering through the pitch. He frowned and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Fuck. It was already 7:30 a.m, and people got in around eight, before the actual turns around teams started. With Regulus, he apparently lost track of time. He couldn’t say it hadn’t been worth it.
Regulus turned and started skating toward the other end of the pitch. James shamelessly stared as the other boy danced beautifully on the ice. It was like seeing a starry night with a shooting star; even though people around the younger boy skated beautifully, James didn’t seem to be able to tear his eyes away from the most beautiful, shining and outstanding star of all. The one that if you looked carefully, you’d find it outshined the others, even though everyone is too busy staring at the other group of shining stars to notice. But James noticed. Oh, he noticed.
Regulus skated beautifully, outstandingly, extraordinary, whatever positive adjective that came to your mind, was a perfect description for Regulus’ skating. It was clear that he loved this. Even if it was a ‘hobby’—or so had Regulus put it as—he seemed to be lost in it. Forgetting everything else that surrounded him. James realized that maybe that was how he felt about Regulus, as he was shoved back by a blonde haired girl that yelled “Don’t just stand there, man!” And James realized he’d actually been just standing there this whole time. Watching Regulus like a fucking creep. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when Regulus looked like that and skated like that and moved like that. God, when the black curls fell to his sweaty face… James had to look away. It was like staring at a fucking angel, too much beauty for James to handle.
Time passed, and eventually James had to leave the pitch since it was the Slytherins’ time on the ice. He saw Regulus taking his skates off through his peripheral vision, unwilling to fully look at him again after he’d just stared at him for the past hour. A bloke with blonde locks reached out to him, and he saw as Regulus’ face slightly softened at the sight of him. They fell into hushed conversation, and Regulus laughed—genuinely laughed. And James felt as his insides started to turn, his eyes on fire. Because—what? Who was this hockey guy? Who did he think he was? He didn’t have the right to listen to Regulus’ laugh. James nonchalantly peered to see if he could make out what the blonde’s jersey said. ‘Rosier’. Rosier? What kind of last name even was that? Pfft. 'Oh, look at me, my last name is Rosier, like a rose blah, blah, bleh, bleh!!!' Jesus. Who did he think he was. Rosier. Stupid fucking last name.
The coach called this Rosier for something, and Regulus stood up, swinging his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the room in a blink of an eye. James had to blink a couple of times before jogging after him.
“I don’t approve,” James, for some reason, called out.
Regulus slightly jumped at the sound of James’ voice behind him, but then masked it as a scowl. Probably nobody even noticed how he jumped. James noticed.
“What?” He hissed.
“Rosier,” James shrugged, “I don’t approve.”
For some reason, that made Regulus stop in his tracks. James took this opportunity to block his path while towering over him.
“What?” Regulus repeated, frowning. James had to stop himself from reaching out and press his finger against the wrinkles between his brows and ease the tension away.
“You know,” he continued, “I think you deserve better than him.”
Regulus just stared at him with an incredulous look on his face. He scoffed and started his pace again, brushing past him. James followed him like a lost puppy, “What? Did I say something wrong?”
Regulus scoffed once again and said, “You know, the fact that you don’t see your mistake here says a lot about you.”
“That I’m charming?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“How did you even come to that conclusion?” He scowled—he seemed to do that a lot when talking to James, “First of all, I don’t need your approval on anything.”
“Says who?”
“Me?”
“Well, I disagree.” James said simply.
“You can’t—” Regulus sighed exasperatedly.
“Well, we can agree to disagree,” he nodded.
“I do not agree to that,” he said, still walking and refusing to meet James' eyes, “Potter, we don’t know each other.”
“You’re Sirius’ little brother—”
“Point still stands,” he said.
“I know enough,” he crossed his arms over his chest, feeling small.
“You have no right to approve of anything I do,” Regulus said, “Not everything concerns you.”
“But—”
“And what even are you not approving of?” He asked.
“Your relationship.” For some reason, that made Regulus let out a laugh. James wanted to bottle that sound and carry it everywhere with him. Cherish it. Cherish this boy.
“My relationship with—” Regulus swallowed, trying to stop laughing, “—Evan?”
“Yes.”
“Evan?” He smiled slightly. Barely, to even be called a smile at all. But James saw it. He counted it as one. It made him feel the same way that a normal smile from Regulus would. “We’re just friends. Not that I owe you any explanation.”
“And yet you still gave me one,” James tilted his face, trying to catch Regulus’ gaze which was very focused on the floor. “And, Rosier was totally hitting on you.”
“He was not,” he scoffed, “God, Potter, stop assuming things you don’t know anything about. Evan’s one of my best friends, and has been for as long as I can remember.”
“Well, he wants to end that friendship clearly,” he said, “He was flirting—”
“Please,” Regulus huffed, “Last time I checked, the last person who flirted with me was you.”
James opened his mouth to say something but when nothing came out closed it again.
“I was drunk,” he felt the need to say.
Regulus just nodded, an unreadable expression on his face.
“I have to go,” he said under his breath, and without further warning, left.
***
“You are fucked,” Mary nodded solemnly.
“You could put it that way, yeah,” James shrugged.
He’d decided to stop by Mary, Lily and Marlene’s flat on his way home, since it had been around two days since he’d last seen them, since they’d been really busy with exams even though it was just the start of the semester. He found himself getting his nails done by Mary, which was weird since he did not do them at all, but Mary was persuasive like that and one way or another she’d get her way. So the stubborn girl was now painting his fucking nails pink. Sirius would make fun of him heavily later.
“Oh, please,” Marlene waved a hand, “He wishes he was fucked.”
“Oi!” James protested.
“Yeah, I think the most fitting word would be dead,” Lily said, not taking her gaze off her book. “I’m not paying for that funeral.”
“Count me out,” Mary agreed.
“Hey,” Marlene sighed, gesturing to herself, “Really? You leave the poor one to pay for James' funeral?”
“No one is paying any funerals,” he rolled his eyes, “It’s not like anything will happen between Regulus and I.”
“Why not?” Lily frowned.
“According to Marls and Moony he is off limits.”
“He’s taken?” Mary looked up from his nails.
“Worse,” James groaned, “Sirius’ brother.”
“Your point?” Lily asked.
“I can’t!” He said, “He’d kill me!”
“Oh, come on,” Mary scoffed, “Are you seriously not going to do what your heart is so desperately begging you to do because you're afraid of Sirius’ muscleless arms hitting your face and knocking you out and dying?”
“Precisely, yeah.”
“Come on,” Lily said, closing the book on her lap, “You’re literally living a romcom! It’s, like, forbidden romance.”
“Ooh, and best friend’s brother trope!” Marlene peered in, “One of my favorites.”
“I thought you were against this?” James frowned.
“I am.”
“I’m not,” Mary said, “Lils is right. Where’s the fun in not having a little drama over who you kiss or shag or whatever?”
James considered this for a moment. “I suppose you’re right…”
“Please,” she scoffed, “I’m always right.”
“Right again, Macdonald,” he nodded, “Right again.”
“It’s a known fact that James is dyslexic, so I wouldn’t trust him—” Marlene is cut off by a pillow being shoved to her face by Mary.
“Wait, I don’t get it…” James frowned.
“Of course you don’t.” Lily rolled her eyes at him fondly.
***
A day passed and still no sight of Regulus. James thought he might die.
“Why the long face, Prongs?” Sirius asked, settling down his mug on the table in front of him.
Oh, you know, the usual, just fucking whimpering about not having seen your baby brother for three days. James wanted to say. Of course, he couldn’t. Instead, he said, “I want to eat—” —your brother, James didn’t say.
“Same,” Peter shook his head from his spot on the couch, “I skipped lunch so I’m fucking starving.”
“Ooh, I have an idea!” Sirius beamed.
“Oh no,” Remus muttered, earning a dirty look from Sirius. Remus shot him his dirtiest look back. Sirius scowled and turned back to the group again.
“Reggie is actually working at a coffee shop,” Sirius said, “I think yesterday was his first day? I’m not sure. Anyway, the point is he’s working at a coffee shop—you know, because he was cut off from our parents’ money because, well, you know,” everyone gulped, “Anyway, we should go.”
“Go where?” Remus asked slowly.
“To the coffee shop,” Sirius replied just as slowly, “Why the fuck else would I have rambled about Reg’s new job if we weren’t going there?”
“Because you’re a caring older brother?” He insisted.
“Please.”
“Fuck off, it was a compliment.”
“I’m sure it was.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Remus shot up from the spot between Peter and James—who shared a worried glance—on the couch.
“Nothing,” Sirius shrugged, taking a sip from his coffee.
“No, no, do tell.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“There sure was just a second ago.”
“Dear God, Moony, not everything has to have a double meaning or something!”
“What—“
“Okay, okay, enough,” James stood between them. Sirius and Remus didn’t take their eyes off each other. “Children.”
“Ooh, ooh,” Peter beamed, “Does that make you the father?”
“You can call me daddy,” James winked at him.
“Da—”
“I’m begging you, do not finish that sentence, Wormtail,” Remus said, still throwing daggers at Sirius with his eyes.
James glanced from Sirius to Remus to Sirius to Remus to Sirius to Remus to— you get it. “So, are we going to see Regulus, then?”
Remus glared at him. Peter wore a knowing smirk. Sirius just grinned happily, “Oh, Prongs, what would I do without you?”
“Probably nothing, since you two can’t walk too far away from each other since your single shared brain cell would disfunction,” Remus deadpanned.
“That does not make any—” Peter shut his mouth as soon as Remus sent a glare to his direction.
“Okay, let’s go to see Regulus!” James clapped his hands together, “I’m starving.”
“And just what would you want to eat, Prongs?” Remus tilted his head knowingly.
James went bright red. Sirius frowned, “Now I’m sensing there’s a double meaning in this…”
Okay, so maybe he’d lied about being hungry, but sue him! This had been a sign from the universe, alright? Come on, he was craving to see Regulus and then bam! Suddenly Sirius suggests seeing him? What kind of witchcraft was this?
So the Marauders were headed to Ollivander’s, which was apparently the best coffee shop from the area.
“I’ll get an iced coffee,” Sirius said, “You?”
“Didn’t you just drink a hot black coffee?” Remus questioned.
“Your point?” He asked, making Remus scoff.
“I think I’ll get a matcha,” Peter, bless him, cut in before another bickering fight could start between Remus and Sirius.
“I won’t get anything, I think,” James said without thinking.
“I thought you were starving,” Sirius frowned.
“Uh— I mean—” James said in a rush, “I was joking! I’ll get a piece of banana bread!”
“Fancy,” Sirius said. If he noticed anything strange in James’ attitude (absolutely and uncharacteristically nervous) he didn’t say anything. “Here we go,” he said as they came to a stop in front of a sage green colored shop that said Ollivander’s in gold and fancy cursive. The three friends bursted inside. James had to take a deep breath before following them. Okay. So. This was it. Now was his chance to win Regulus’ heart. This was a sign of the universe. This was meant to be. They were meant to be.
“Good evening, sir,” Sirius said in a posh accent as his eyes met his brother’s wide ones.
Regulus was looking as perfect as ever, wearing an oversized green jumper with baggy black jeans and black Doctor Martens with a sage green apron. His eyes looked somehow brighter. He looked beautiful as he was glaring at Sirius from behind the counter.
“Qu'est-ce que tu crois faire ici?” Regulus hissed through gritted teeth. All James could here was kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.
“Oh, but just what is this greeting?” Sirius shook his head, pretending to be hurt, “I would like to speak to the manager.”
A blonde—almost white—haired girl peered from the spot next to Regulus behind the counter. She wore way too much jewelry, long blue and purple skirt, and a knitted green shirt. She looked defensive of Regulus, until she seemed to find the resemblance between him and the boy who was pretending to be a normal customer.
“What do you want, Sirius?” Regulus sighed loudly.
“I want an iced coffee, please,” Sirius smiled at him. He looked at his friends and asked, “Guys?”
Apparently that was the exact moment that Regulus realized they had company. His eyes went wider as he took Remus, Peter and James in. James didn’t miss the way Regulus’ eyes lingered for just a moment in James’ strong arms. He’d keep that in mind.
“Hi, Reggie,” James winked at the boy, desperately trying to keep the desperation he was feeling out of his voice. He was down bad for Regulus.
“It’s Regulus,” he scowled.
“I’m well aware, Reggie,” he said.
Before Regulus had the chance to say something back, Peter jumped in, “Can I get an iced matcha, please?”
Regulus glared at him for a moment before writing that down “To go?”
“Oh, no, we’re staying,” Sirius said solemnly.
“Of course you are,” Regulus muttered under his breath.
“And a black tea, please,” Remus said shyly.
James watched in awe as Regulus’ hand swiftly moved through the small notebook in his hand where he wrote down the boys’ orders. He had fairly attractive hands. They were long and strong—yes, strong. He was wearing the same silver rings from the other night, James noticed. His nails were—
“Prongs?” Peter asked, and from the tone in his voice, it didn’t seem to be the first time. “Do you want anything?” James had to tear his gaze from Regulus’ awfully perfect hands and found all of his friends looking at him with quizzical looks. Even Regulus was looking at him, and he was clearly biting the inside of his cheek. The white haired girl wore a knowing smirk on her face. What did she even know to begin with?
“Uh, sorry—” James swallowed and looked at Regulus, “I’ll have an iced match as well, please.”
Regulus narrowed his eyes slightly before looking back at Sirius. “That would be—”
“What?” Sirius hissed, “It’s on the house!”
“I’m pretty sure that is the house’s decision.”
“But—” Sirius scoffed, “I’m your brother!”
“Woah, thanks for the clarification, Sirius, I’d completely forgotten,” Regulus deadpanned.
“Well, clearly,” he crossed his arms over his chest, “Don’t I get, like, a discount or something?”
“For being my brother?”
“Well, yes.”
“Well, no.”
“Reggie—”
“It’s alright, it’s on the house,” the girl next to Regulus spoke up for the first time. Sirius looked at her up and down and smirked. The girl glared at him, “Not like that. It’s so that you can stop being annoying.”
Regulus coughed a laugh as Sirius gasped, “What is this service?!”
The girl smiled brightly at him, as if nothing had happened.
“Take a seat, we’ll take your drinks to you,” she said. James read her name tag—Pandora.
“Is she mad?” Sirius whispered as they sat down.
“No, but you might be.” Remus said.
“Wha—”
“You can’t just assume that she’s flirting with you because she’s giving you the free drink you asked to be given free for,” Remus threw his hands to the air.
“I’m not sure I can trust you on the flirting subject,” Sirius retorted.
“And just what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Fabian Prewett, two months ago,” Sirius said simply.
Remus’ eyes went wide with fury, “Oh, this again!”
“Yes, this again,” he said.
“How many times do I have to tell you—”
“He was being inappropriate, Moony!”
“He wasn’t even flirting with me!”
“Yes, he was!”
“You had no right—”
“He deserve to have that cup thrown to his face,” Sirius scoffed.
“He’s my friend!” Remus practically growled, “You made things so awkward—”
“Well, you should tell him that.”
“Fucking—”
“Enough with the Fabian Topic, please,” James sighed exasperatedly.
Around two months ago, the Marauders had gone to a pub their friend Frank Longbottom had organized and invited them to. Turned out, one of Frank’s closest friend was Fabian Prewett, who Remus had met in the library and had become sort of—or as Remus put it—library friends. So, when they’d seen each other, they’d been beaming with happiness and giggly (yes, they were already drunk) about the whole rare situation of them being at the same party because they had a shared friend. Sirius, of course, being his jealous self, had been furious. He was sure that Fabian was flirting with Remus, because he kept buying him drinks—in Sirius’ opinion so as to get him drunk so that he could fall for him—and lightly poking his shoulder anytime they laughed—which, in Sirius' opinion, was “an excuse to touch a part of your body!” All in all, Sirius had gotten drunk and poured himself a cup full of beer, lost it when he saw Fabian poking Remus’ shoulder again and threw the cup to his face, getting him soaking wet. Remus had been furious and demanded an explanation. When Sirius gave him one, Remus saw red. They didn’t speak to each other for a whole week.
Basically, the Fabian Topic was a touchy subject.
Peter and James shared a look. Peter sighed, “Yes, it’s ancient history.”
As if on cue, Pandora dropped by to give them their mugs. They thanked her and fell back into chattering.
Once they were done, they got up from their seats and went back to the counter.
“Are you quite finished now?” Regulus looked at his brother with a murderous glare.
“Yes,” he said satisfyingly.
“Okay, bye.”
“Wait, when are we seeing each other again?”
“Hopefully never,” Regulus stated. Sirius gave him a pointed look. He sighed, “I suppose I could try to stop by your flat by the end of the week, or something…”
“Wonderful!” Sirius beamed. James was internally beaming. Internally, of course. From the outside it looked like he was just having no reaction. Or so he thought so, until his eyes met Remus’, which were full of mockery. Shit, was he really being that obvious?
Regulus was true to his word. By the end of the week, when James was brushing his teeth, he heard a knock on the door. He frowned, they weren’t expecting anyone. When he sneaked a look from the bathroom, he saw Sirius letting Regulus in. And he never hated Sirius more. How could he not warn him he’d come?! In all truth, James knew exactly why; James never really did care about when anyone came around or how he looked like when the time came. He just wasn’t the nervous type of guy. Remus was, though. So, Sirius had probably already warned him about his brother’s visit and the fucker hadn’t mentioned anything to James because he enjoyed seeing him all nervous. Because, again, James Potter and the word nervous did not suit right together. But, when it came to Regulus Black, James Potter was the nervous type of guy.
He quickly finished brushing his teeth and closed the door behind him. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked fit enough, right? He was wearing a tight black T-shirt that made his muscles more noticeable than usual and baggy jeans. Would Regulus find him attractive?
God, why was he thinking of this? James wasn’t supposed to care about what people thought of his appearance, Euphemia had taught him better! James Potter was the chill type of guy. He was chill. Cool. So cool. I’m chill and so very cool. James thought to himself repeatedly as he took a long breath before opening the door and pretending to notice Regulus for the first time.
“Oh, hey,” James smiled, trying his best to look nonchalant about the literal love of his life being in his flat, “Didn’t know you were coming.”
“Potter,” Regulus said.
“You know, you can call me James.”
“I know.”
“And you still choose to call me Potter?”
“Isn’t that your last name?” He raised a quizzical brow.
“Well, yeah—”
“Reggie, stop being rude to Prongs,” Sirius warned.
“Just stating what I thought was obvious,” he shrugged. He looked at Sirius and feigned whispered, “Does he know his last name is Potter?”
“He’s right here,” James waved his hand. In all honesty, James was having a blast right now. All Regulus’ attention was on him. Good. He planned on keeping it that way.
“And he’s wearing a black T-shirt,” Regulus muttered. James frowned for a second before the flashback came; when James had attempted flirting with Regulus without knowing who he was, he’d said ‘that’s a black T-shirt’. James’ cheeks felt hot.
Sirius looked back and forth between them, “I don’t get it.”
“So,” James clapped his shaky hands together, his nonchalant act lost somewhere in the way, “Anyone wants something to eat? Drink?”
“I’ll have a tea,” Regulus said with a knowing smirk, “I’ll go to the kitchen with you, though, I’m quite picky.”
Remus coughed a laugh.
“Right. Sure. Yeah.” James nodded repeatedly as he headed toward the kitchen with Regulus following close behind. He showed him the different flavors of tea they had, Regulus picked one and James just stared at him preparing a cup of tea. Was that weird?
“Stop watching me,” Regulus broke the silence without looking up from his tea.
“I’m not.”
“Potter.” He looked at him and oh, fuck.
“Reggie.”
“If you want to get in my pants you’ll have to do a lot more than just stare at me,” he said. And with that, he turned around and walked to where his brother was standing, deep in conversation with Peter. James stared in awe at where Regulus had been just a second ago. Had he heard that right? He couldn’t have. Because, what?
Was Regulus Black acknowledging James’ terrible flirting skills?
Better yet, was Regulus Black flirting back?
The afternoon flew by, mostly Regulus getting to know the group—everyone except James, who was staring at his hands when he talked, or the way his hair flipped whenever he turned his head around, or the way he fidgeted with his rings whenever he was asked any questions. All in all, James had messed up his, like, fourth time to make Regulus fall in love with him. But, how could he? Regulus Black had flirted with him! That’s not something you simply recover from!
James would just have to get himself some alone time with Regulus to make him fall for him. Oh, well.