Quit staring

One day, sensing he was being watched in the Great Hall, Regulus looked for James. Obviously, as many times before, James was staring at him, maybe not even consciously anymore.

Regulus full-on stared back. He wanted to see what reaction he would get, to give him a taste of his own medicine.

That first time he did, James looked shocked. Probably wasn’t expecting to be acknowledged, or even caught in the act. Regulus decided it was fun seeing Potter’s eyes widen, sneaking glances at Sirius to see if he had caught on.

Fifth time he stared back though, instead of wide eyes and nervousness, Regulus was surprised to find what looked like half a smirk on Potter’s face.

Tenth time, James winked at him.

He fucking winked.

From then on, it turned into a sort of game.

James would tease Regulus with a smile or a wink, sometimes both. Regulus would roll or squint his eyes, but he didn’t hide the little smile that appeared on his face every time. Evan and Barty quickly realised what was happening, and would obviously tease Regulus every time.
They had spoken before, though only sporadically, yet with every glance or subtle twitch of the lips, Regulus and James seemed to share a language uniquely their own. It was as if a connection was quietly forming between them—one that required no words to sustain its presence.

When James managed to get Regulus to smile wider than usual, he celebrated it by laughing, which eventually brought his friend’s attention.

Regulus was gathering books in the library when Remus Lupin stopped him in his tracks. He towered over Regulus, trapping him in a corner of which he couldn’t escape without causing a scene.

“What’s your deal?” Remus said calmly, but frowning with intent.

“What are you on about?”

“With James. What’s your deal with James.”

Fuck. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh?” Remus said with raised eyebrows, crossing his arms, “So James is winking at thin air then? And you’re rolling your eyes at what? The wall?”

“Ok fine.” Regulus gave in, more overwhelmed with each question, “So what? It’s not illegal to look at someone.”

“It’s not. But I thought you hated him.” Remus wouldn’t budge.

Regulus didn’t really know what Remus’ goal was with this conversation. He was just looking—no real harm done.

“I don’t hate him.” he insisted, “I do dislike him though, he’s an arrogant prick. He’s friends with my brother, after all.”

“I’m friends with your brother, does that make me an arrogant prick?” Remus argued.

They’d never had a conversation this long, but it was nice to realise that one of Sirius’ friends could keep up with him. If Remus had been in any other house, perhaps they might have been friends. But alas, Sirius claimed him first.

“No,” Regulus scoffed, “but those two are peas in a pod. He probably thinks the same about me.”

“That’s a bold claim.”

“He’s never given me a reason to think differently.”

“You could ask him.”

What?

Regulus blinked. “Ask him?” he repeated sceptically, surprised by Remus’ teasing tone.

“Yeah, I mean, if you really didn’t like him, you wouldn’t even think about entertaining whatever game you have going on.” insisted Remus, a grin slowly appearing on his face. Regulus didn’t meet his eyes. “Same with him.” Remus concluded, shrugging casually.

Regulus was a bit lost. He didn’t understand Lupin’s intentions, but he doubted they were malicious.

“If I tell you I’ll think about it, will you leave me alone?”

“For now, yes. I hope you really think about it.” Remus replied, finally stepping back.

And with that, he walked off, leaving Regulus to stare after him, utterly bewildered.

What the fuck was that about.

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“Oh pleeeaaasseee, he basically told you to make a move!”

Barty, Evan and Regulus were in the same spot they had been when he first mentioned James’ staring. It had become a kind of ritual for the boys, dissecting James’ moves of the week. Regulus acted annoyed by it, but he appreciated their enthusiasm. It made him feel less crazy about the situation. It was, after all, a strange set of circumstances.

“He’s right Reg.” Evan pointed out, looking determined at a defeated Regulus, who had slumped his head in his hands.

Regulus let out a muffled groan. “Ugh. Why do I have to make the first move? He started it.”

“Because he’s not going to openly flirt with his best friend’s little brother.” said Evan, stating the obvious.

“I’m not fucking little.” snapped Regulus, finally looking up to glare at Evan, letting his arms fall on his lap.

“You’re little to your brother. James, on the other hand, probably thinks you’re the perfect size for him.” quipped a grinning Barty.

“Barty!”

“What?”

They really were irritating.

Barty held his hands up defensively. “I’m just saying, he’s clearly interested. You said he stays after Quidditch practice to… practise more?” he asked, scrunching up his nose as if the thought of more exercise was repulsive to him.

“Yes. So what?”

Regulus hated how he knew that fact about James.

He realised by accident. Every time Gryffindor came back from practice, Regulus was the library’s window, reading or studying. It was his usual spot, not too close to the door to be interrupted, but in a corner that didn’t suffocate him. Everybody knew this was Regulus’ spot, and nobody was crazy enough to steal it from him.

From there, he noticed James was never with them when the rest of the team arrived at the castle. One day, curiosity got the best of him (as he stubbornly told his friends), and he headed down to the pitch. James was there, getting some extra training done.

And Regulus couldn’t look away.

That was the second time his body had physically reacted to James Potter—heart racing, skin tingling, chest tightening as if some invisible hand had reached inside and gripped it. Hair wild because of the wind, strong arms working and flexing, going as fast as lightning. Being a Quidditch fan himself, Regulus told himself he could appreciate James' skills as just that: amazing skills. He told himself he didn’t care how hot he looked up there.

Clearly, that wasn’t the case.
But no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, his eyes lingered too long. On the way James moved, the sheer control and ease. On the way the light caught his hair and made his grin seem impossibly bright.
He had never gone back, scared of his own thoughts. But maybe he could pay another visit, just once.

Barty and Evan were staring at him, waiting for a response.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him then.”

He threw a pillow to the face when Barty whooped.

Secretly, he was pleased.

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Secretly, he was freaking out.

Regulus had decided to watch Gryffindor’s training that same Tuesday. Unfortunately, Sirius and his friends had come too, as they always did, and had decided to sit near Regulus. Of course.

“Spying, are we?” asked Sirius smugly, as he plopped down next to Regulus. “They’ll beat you anyways, there’s nothing anyone can do about James.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. He was right of course. James Potter flew like he was born on a broom. It wouldn’t surprise Regulus if he ended up playing professionally. But no way in hell was he going to agree out loud.

“You know seekers win the game don’t you?” Regulus shot back, leaning back against the bleachers, pretending to be disinterested. “You have too much faith in him.”

“Come on, just look at him!” Sirius gestured wildly at the pitch. “Nobody moves like he does.”

Regulus was looking alright. God damn. But again, he would never admit to being interested in anything related to James Potter, so he just rolled his eyes again, pointedly looking away.

Sirius crossed his arms. “Why are you here, really?” he questioned, suddenly suspicious of his brother’s actual intentions. Regulus took a bit of offence in that, but he understood it was uncommon for him to watch a random training, even more to be around gryffindors willingly.

“Had nothing better to do.” Regulus answered shrugging, playing it cool. He snuck a glance at Remus, who was hiding a grin under his scarf. Maybe Lupin was an arrogant prick, after all.

“And you chose to watch Gryffindor instead of… whatever you like doing?” Sirius pressed, not believing a word he said.

“Leave him alone, he’s not doing anything illegal.” Remus to the rescue, kind of. Regulus glared at him, thanking any existing god that Sirius and Peter weren’t paying too much attention to their exchange.

“Did you know Gilderoy tried flirting with Molly today? The Prewett’s were pissed…”

Peter obviously didn’t care. Regulus silently thanked his ability to derail a conversation, as Sirius launched into an animated discussion about Gilderoy’s antics.

Training went on without a hitch. Gryffindor’s team flew through the air expertly, with impeccable coordination. Regulus admired James, who was the culprit of other houses being unable to win the Quidditch cup. Regulus’ gaze drifted back to James every now and again, who was effortlessly coordinating plays, his presence commanding even from a distance. Bloody show-off.

When the Gryffindors finished their training, his brother got up, asking Regulus if he was going with them.

“I’m going to stay for a while.” answered Regulus, trying to sound casual.

“Why?” asked Peter, finally curious.

“Been studying all day. I’m enjoying the fresh air.” he lied smoothly.

Sirius frowned, “But-”

“Come on Pads, let's go.” Remus interrupted, tugging Sirius along. “You have homework.”

“You’ll let me copy from you though, right?” Regulus heard Sirius ask as Lupin led them away.

“Just this once…” Remus sighed, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a small smile.

Regulus watched them go, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Thank fuck for Remus.

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James noticed Regulus five minutes into his training. He paused and looked, obviously wondering what to do. Regulus held his gaze, cool and composed, though his heart raced. He knew James could very well ignore him, he had every right. After all, isn’t that what they had been doing until a couple months ago? Any of them could stop this little game they were playing at any moment, fragile as it was.

Thankfully, James didn’t seem to want to stop.

He flew over until he was in front of Regulus, who remained unmoved, sitting in the stands.

“Hi.” said James. His expression was carefully neutral.

“Hi.” Regulus replied, matching his tone.

“Wanna join?”

Regulus’ eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t expecting that. He pondered for a moment, debating if this was such a good idea.

“I don’t have my Quidditch stuff.”

“Doesn’t matter.” James shrugged, “I’ve seen you play, you don’t need equipment to try and beat me.”

Oh.

“Try and beat you?”

“Well, yeah. You won’t be able to but you can definitely give it a shot.” James teased, cocky and infuriating.

Regulus shook his head, surprised by how easily they could mock each other. He couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped him.

“I knew you were arrogant, but you could at least try and hide it.”

“You would see right through it though, wouldn’t you?” James smirked.

Oh.

Game on.

“Fine,” Regulus stood up straighter, “I’ll play.”

James grinned and flew off, and Regulus went down to the pitch, determination in his stride. He arrived with a broom from the school’s shed, kicking off with it to join James in the air.

“Ready?” asked James, Quaffle prepared in hand.

Regulus smirked. “Absolutely.”

James threw the ball to him and darted off to the goal posts. Regulus followed him with ease, picking up speed and aiming for a goal. The match between them was fast and fierce—catching, throwing, dodging, stealing. More than once, their shoulders brushed as they jostled for the Quaffle. James was all broad grins and quick-witted quips, while Regulus, usually composed, found himself grinning back as the thrill of competition set his blood alight.

“You sure you weren’t meant to be a chaser?” James called out at one point, surprised when Regulus was finally able to knock the Quaffle out of James hands. They were both out of breath, having been chasing one another for the better part of an hour.

“I prefer not to be in the middle of all the chaos.” answered Regulus, passing the Quaffle back with ease, “Besides, winning the game for everyone has its perks.”

“What perks?” asked James curiously.

“Everyone wants a piece of you after.” said a grinning Regulus.

James, who was playing with the ball, nearly dropped it. James, master of chasers, captain of the Gryffindor team, nearly dropped the Quaffle. It was almost laughable. His cheeks tinged pink as he tried to play it cool.

Eyes wide, he stumbled on his words, “Is that a perk though? I would’ve thought you weren’t into the attention.”

“I do when I’m looking for it.” Regulus shrugged, still grinning at a red-faced James.

“Oh.” James blinked, clearly caught off guard, “Whose attention do you look for? I mean-” he cut himself off, realising how stupid he sounded, “I mean, I thought you didn’t like that sort of thing.”

“What? Attention?”

“Well, that type of attention.” stammered James, trying to get his point across.

“What kind, Potter?” Regulus asked, his voice teasing as he edged closer.

“You know,” mumbled James, averting his eyes, “like, attraction and stuff.”

Regulus chuckled, “Attraction? Who doesn’t like to feel attractive?”

“I mean, of course-”

“Do you think I’m not attractive?” he teased.

“What? No, of course not-” James’ words tumbled out in a panic.

“So you think I’m attractive?” Regulus cocked an eyebrow.

“What? I didn’t say that. No, sorry, you are very attractive, obviously. I mean, objectively you are-”

He was cut off by Regulus’ laughter. The laughter was warm, unexpected, and entirely disarming. James rolled his eyes and deflated a bit, smiling slightly at the laughing boy. Regulus didn’t laugh much, and it was a sight to be seen.

“Relax Potter, I won’t tell Sirius you said his little brother is attractive.” Regulus said, leaning in just enough to swipe the Quaffle from James’ hands.

James looked baffled, as if he had just been caught in the scene of a crime. He composed himself quickly though, staring wide-eyed at Regulus.

“Wait, do you find me attractive?”

Regulus debated his answer, “You’ll have to win a match to find out, won’t you?”
And with that, he shot off toward the goalposts, leaving James frozen in midair, red-faced and completely speechless.

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Two hours later, sun set and grounds empty of students, they landed on the pitch. Sweaty and tired, they looked at each other, eyes sparkling. It had been fun, talking and training, teasing each other non stop. Regulus thought the flirting was quite obvious, but he still wasn’t sure what it meant. Maybe James was always like this and he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

"Not bad for a Seeker," James quipped, trailing after Regulus into the broom shed.

"Oh, shut it," Regulus shot back, rolling his eyes as he propped his broom against the wall. "It wasn't a fair match, and you know it. At least I can actually see the Snitch."

"Oi! At least I'm not short," James countered, leaning casually against the doorframe, his grin infuriatingly smug.

Regulus turned to face him, brow arching. "Short? We're the same height."

James pushed off the doorframe, closing the distance between them with an easy stride. "Really? Pretty sure I've got at least an inch on you."
Regulus snorted, refusing to back down. "An inch isn't exactly towering, Potter."

"Still counts," James murmured.

Regulus swallowed hard, his heartbeat loud in his ears as James’ smirk softened into something else. Their usual banter seemed to dissolve, and for a moment, neither of them moved, waiting for what might happen next.

Regulus’ gaze flicked down to James’ lips, then back up to his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline still rushing through him from their earlier match, or something else entirely, but he found himself leaning in, just a fraction.

James’ breath hitched, and for a second, he didn’t pull back. His eyes searched Regulus’ face, his usual confidence faltering.

Regulus dared to whisper, voice barely audible, “Still think you’re taller?”

James’ lips parted slightly, a ghost of a laugh escaping, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in just a little more—close enough that the edges of their noses nearly brushed. The space between them was so small, it would have been easy to close it.

But then James stopped. He pulled back, breaking the moment like a snapped string.

“I—” he began, his voice cracking slightly before he cleared his throat. “We should, um, probably get back.”

Regulus blinked, the warmth that had built up inside him fading into something sharp and hollow. He took a step back, folding his arms over his chest as if that could shield him from the sudden awkwardness.

“Right,” he said flatly, glancing away. “Yeah, better get back.”

James chuckled weakly, but it didn’t carry the same lightheartedness as before.

They stood there for a moment longer, the tension now replaced by an uncomfortable silence. Then, without another word, James turned and headed out of the shed, leaving Regulus alone with the brooms and a storm of thoughts he didn’t know how to sort through.