Chapter 11
Regulus waited with his heart beating in his throat. Some of it was nervousness he was sure. At Potter coming here again. At Potter seeing him.
Just to help, right? Merlin he hoped so. He trusted James. He really did. But there was this nagging voice in him that kept reminding him that even Saint Potter was a guy. And based on Regulus's experience, most guys kind of forgot you were a person once they figured out they wanted to touch you.
From his mother telling him to wear the boots some old guy had liked because it made his legs look longer, to Rabbastan tugging at the front of his dress. Regulus hadn't even understood why. He'd been twelve and Rabbastan three years older. He almost smiled as he remembered the way Sirius had lost his shit the moment he'd seen what was going on.
For the rest of his life Regulus wouldn't be alone with him again, he'd promised.
Ironic, isn't it? Considering that nowadays Regulus barely spoke to his brother, and saw Rabastan Lestrange every single fucking time he went home.
A noise jolted him from his thoughts. Mother and father had left and he'd instructed Kreatcher to let Potter upstairs immediately. Apparently the house elf had tried to fight him yesterday.
When he heard quick footsteps on the stairs his fingers began tingling, his heart rate picking up even more. Some of this was anxiety, sure. But the other part was ... anticipation? Yeahhh he was fucked. Well and truly fucked. Of course it was James fucking Potter whom he'd chosen to like having around. It couldn't have been some nice death eater? Preferably a cousin?
He groaned and buried deeper into de blankets. Soon after he heard a tentative knock. "Reggie? It's James."
He waited. For the fun of it. Made Potter suffer a little for the weird-as-hell warm feelings he had forced onto Regulus. Salazars balls he really was an asshole.
"James uh Potter?" He heard from behind the door and couldn't stop the laugh from escaping him. He pressed his hand to his mouth but was far too late and apparently Potter heard him because the door pushed open and a grinning, sun soaked James stepped through.
"You little shit," he said and Regulus just kept on giggling. James didn't really seem mad. He was smiling. Looking at Regulus with such fondness Regulus had to turn away to hide his blush. Shit.
Potter shook off his jacket, then came over to the bed where Regulus had calmed down a little. "I'd tickle you but you do still have a kind of unfair advantage of being injured."
Regulus pulled a face. "Trust me if you had had to sleep with two cuts that deep you wouldn't consider it an advantage either."
"You're right, I'm sorry. Was it that bad?"
"It was fine." Regulus looked away. "Just um, while we're on the subject; could you also refrain from tickling me even if I don't have the advantage of injury?"
"Oh." James said looking surprised. "Yeah of course." He said gently and Regulus noticed too late the implication of them still being ... friendly even when he was healed up again.
Then Potter's eyes suddenly lit up. "I brought you something!" He cried, jumping up and rummaging through his coat. Then he dropped something in Regulus's lap and looked triumphant.
"A phone?"
"Yeah!" He sat back down. Closer again and Regulus leaned in under the pretence of letting James show him the phone. Not that he seemed to mind. In fact, he glanced at Regulus and if anything he moved even a little closer.
"It's my old one," he explained. "I thought you could use it to look stuff up. You really seemed to like Google."
Regulus grinned.
"It also has like, music and stuff," James continued, tapping away on the phone and explaining the simple settings to Regulus. He handed it over at last and Regulus opened the App for music. He thought he had glimpsed something here before James had hurriedly clicked it away. After looking for a minute he found it; Love Story was the only song saved. When he looked up James was watching him with a timid smile.
"You seemed to like it ... It was the -"
"The song we danced to, I remember." As if he could ever forget that.
For a minute they were both quiet then James asked, "so, will you let me look at your cuts now?"
Regulus swallowed but nodded. When James indicated him to lay back down he did as he was told and rucked up his shirt just enough to expose the cuts.
He hissed in pain when James cleaned them, then again when a strong smelling cream was applied.
"Got it from my mum," James murmured.
"It feels ... nice." It did. After the initial sting of appliance it gave off a soothing coolness.
James smiled, still focused on his work.
From this angle Regulus could watch James as he was bent over him. His glasses pushed right up to his eyes, the thin furrow of concentration between his brows. His soft, curly hair. It was way too long. Regulus wanted to run his fingers through it. For a wild moment he thought he might just do it. Then James looked up.
"If you sit up, I'll do the binding now."
Regulus forced himself to keep breathing, sat up and started to tug his shirt over his head before Potter grabbed his wrists quickly. "I think I can do it with your shirt on. I mean ... I thought it might be easier for you that way."
It would. It definitely would. "Okay," Regulus whispered.
"I'll have to sit pretty close to you though. To reach around your back, you know?"
Regulus nodded. Potter already had a bandage in his hand and then he scooted closer, kneeling right between Regulus' legs.
"I'll be quick, I promise," he whispered before his hands slipped underneath Regulus's shirt.
For a second he panicked. But when his eyes met serious brown ones he took a deep breath, thought of all the nights James had lain straight as a rod in his very own bed, his hands tucked to his body. All just because Regulus had asked him to.
James started at a low point on his ribs, then had to lean incredibly close to bring the bandage around Regulus's back. He worked quickly and quietly, wrapping first the cuts and then his chest with routined precision. They were done within a few minutes and James's fingers had not grazed Regulus's skin even once.
When he retracted his hands he gently got the oversized shirt back into place, smiling at Regulus. "Alright?"
Fuck this guy. Seriously fuck him. Couldn't he have made a crude joke now? Then Regulus wouldn't feel so ... grateful? Happy? Fuck. Him. Regulus smiled and James's eyes roamed his face in an urgency that said he was trying to drink in every single detail.
"I'm alright, yes. Thanks."
And now he was pretty sure Potter was blushing. This suspicion was confirmed when he ducked his head and started rummaging through his bag rather unnecessarily.
James stayed for a while longer. All under the pretence of helping Regulus straightening up his room (which was definitely straightened up enough, thank you very much), getting him tea and running him through instructions on how to take care of his wounds (again). But sooner rather than later they did run out of excuses and James sighed and said he did actually need to leave. Despite his protests Regulus insisted on bringing him to the door.
"I'm not an invalid Potter, I can move. And I have this thing called manners." It was true. Regulus could definitely move on his own now.
He did however not protest when James stepped close and supported him down the stairs, his hands tingling on Regulus's hip.
Regulus watched as James tugged on his coat, fumbled with his boots.
He didn't want him to leave. Wanted to tell him to put the boots back on the rack and take the coat off his shoulders and ... And what? Where would he put him? Built him a nest under his bed so he could reach down when he felt alone? Maybe stuff him in the attic, only let him out at night so they could lie beside each other again, several inches apart, but closer than anyone had ever been to Regulus.
"So," James said and Regulus realised that it was too late now. James's boots were all laced up, and the attic probably couldn't hold pure sunlight anyway. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Yes. Goodbye." He kept his back straight, his mask on. James watched him, but then he nodded, turned away.
"Wait," Regulus felt his mask crack, tar spilling out, slipping down his cheeks. When Potter turned he didn't hesitate. Strode forward and launched himself at James, pressed onto his toes and kissed him.
A startled noise came from James and otherwise he stayed still. Stockstill. They stood like that for far too long, pressed together from top to toe, Regulus's eyes squeezed shut.
He was clasping James's jacket, about to pull away.
Wow that was stupid. How could he have been so mistaken? Why had he-
And suddenly everything changed. Warmth flooded Regulus as his kiss was softly answered. He felt himself melt as he was pulled even closer, encircled and tasting honey. Sweet and warm and alive.
James's hands fell onto his hips, those large, gentle hands. And when Regulus nipped at James, a rush of euphoria coursing through him, he moaned. Actually moaned. Because of Regulus. Because James wanted him. He knew him, knew who he was, what he was. And wanted him. Like his mother had thought impossible.
His lips parted and somehow that made James go wild, he slipped his tongue into Regulus's mouth, pressed against him until his back met the wall and kissed and kissed and kissed him.
They only broke apart once the lack of oxygen became unbearable. Still panting into each others breath their eyes caught. Regulus couldn't even begin to describe the feeling of safety he felt when he looked into those soft brown eyes, but now there was something else.
Longing.
Maybe it had been there before, burning under his skin like lava under the earth, but now, now it was streaming down, running free.
~~~
After letting James out the door and hearing the crack of his apparation, Regulus decided he'd return to bed.
His cheeks hurt from the broad grin still on his face. Before leaving James had promised he'd come back the next morning and Regulus touched his lips. Did that mean something? Would it happen again?
As he ascended the stairs his smile started to fade. This had been a rather stupid thing to do. He had just given away his first kiss to someone he could never be with. Never.
According to his family and everyone he'd ever known the Potters were traitors of the highest caliber. Unworthy of their name and their status. And James Potter was the epitome of that. Dismissive were he should have been prideful of his lineage. Honest were he should have been cunning. Helpful were he should have been destructive.
He was also the best friend of a brother who was in the best case scenario indifferent towards Regulus, but hated him in the worst case. Could he ask Potter to keep this a secret?
And besides, what was this? Was it anything to James? Wasn't he in love with Lily Evans? Regulus recalled the paintings with flowers and colours and devotion.
That was what James wanted and Regulus would do well not to forget it.