Regulus is having dreams again.
Dreams he didn't have ever since he was fifteen; ever since his brother ran away from home.
He doesn't dream often.
Didn't have nightmares when his father died, or when his mother died. He didn't have nightmares when he was all but nineteen, all out in the world, completely alone if not for his friends, freshly transitioned, and going to college.
So it was unusual, after so long, that he would come back to having the same dreams again.
They always started the same:
Regulus was sitting by a lake, with long hair and a green robe, staring at the water, dreading to look at his own reflection, afraid to see someone on the outside who didn't match who he was on the inside.
Then this bloke would show up. Tall, big, buff. Perfect thighs, perfect hair, perfect crooked smile, perfect glasses sliding down his nose due to being a little loose on the sides.
That boy would wave at him and gallop in his direction, then sit down on the grass next to him, hold his hand, and say something stupid about his day. He would call him Regulus, and Regulus would smile, but would also try to hide it.
Next, he would see a broom closet. His hair was considerably shorter as if he was cutting it little by little, and he had that boy pinned against a wall. Regulus would proceed to kiss him senseless until they were both all but out of air, lips parted and tainted white where the blood was missing, then immediately flushed red, messy clothes and glazy eyes.
Everything, Regulus would feel his heart beating faster, his hands trembling, his body having such a crude, visceral reaction to that man in front of him, and he would know he was in love. Not only in love, he loved. It was no mere passion, far from it. It was bonded, carved into his skin and bones, burned on his heart. It was violent, and it was sweet.
For a long, long time, Regulus couldn't find out why the dreams of the boy bothered him so. There was something bitter about them, something hurtful, something tragic.
That night, the night the dreams came back, he did. He found out.
The usual scenes crossed his sleeping mind, but instead of finishing with some lovely moment like they usually did, they kept going.
So Regulus saw more.
He saw his parents screaming and shouting at him, and he knew it was because of that boy. He saw himself getting insecure, scared, and pushing away. He saw broken hearts and scarred souls.
And then he saw her.
He doesn't hate her, he couldn't. She didn't do anything wrong. She didn't even know that she was picking that boy off the ground, but she was the one who helped him get on his feet. She loved him, and that was clear as day.
The boy, Regulus’ boy, loved her, too. Maybe that was the part that pained him the most; seeing him give her the same smile, the same caress, the same love, and yet, a completely different one.
After that, Regulus saw war. He saw pain and loss, he saw despair and death.
But he also saw hope (even though hope came to him dressed as sacrifice).
His last vision was one of a lake. One where he would hold on to two things: one was a necklace, a locket. The second one was a ring. A golden ring, golden like his glasses, like his robe.
Golden like the sun.
In that lake, Regulus Black died.
That's when he woke up that morning.
It's been five years since his life has gotten back on track. Five years of his body healing and taking shape, five years of college, and now he finally graduates. Of those five years, it's been three since he got back to talking to his older brother, Sirius.
Their parents messed them up badly. Sirius had the courage to get up and leave, but Regulus did not. After the death of Walburga and Orion Black, he was alone in the world. He stayed a bit with some of his friends until he finally managed to get back on track. When he turned twenty, he started college, so it was insane to find out, after three years, that his older brother lived on that very same campus.
They were mending their relationship back together, slowly, but surely.
Last week, Regulus introduced his brother to his friends, all four of them (although Sirius already knew Barty and Evan, he still had to introduce Pandora and Dorcas).
This week, however, Sirius is going to introduce Regulus to his friends, and to his boyfriend, because apparently, he has one.
Due to the anticipation, the morning is very, very slow. Regulus gets up, takes a quick shower (which, after dreaming about drowning to death, feels weird), eats breakfast and gets changed. He makes sure he got the right address from Sirius, and when the time comes, he leaves the dorm and heads to the small cafeteria in the campus that his brother loves to go to.
It should have been fine. He was going to see Sirius, meet his friends and go back to his day. He still had a lot of articles to write and read.
As Regulus arrives, he notices his brother already talking to someone, but his back is all that is to see from him.
“... and that's when I said—wait, that's—oh, he's here!” Sirius gets up the second he sees Regulus (or feels his presence, would be more accurate). “Reggie, hey!”
“Hey,” Regulus waves, uninterested, looking down at the sitting stranger as they turn, and…
It's him.
Regulus freezes on his track, eyes wide.
It's him, it's the boy of his dreams. His boy.
He thinks he might be going insane, but he realizes that the bloke has the exact same awestruck expression on his face.
Sirius looks from one to the other, blinking, completely confused with the situation.
“Er, you two alright?” He asks carefully, resting a hand on Regulus’ shoulder. “Reg, are you fine?”
“I—I'm sorry, I just…” He keeps on staring at the stranger, tongue-tied.
“Have we met before?” The good-looking unknown person asks.
“No, I don't think we did,” Regulus answers with a thin voice. Not in this life, at least, he thinks to himself.
Sirius clears his throat.
“Campus is big, I'm sure you've seen each other around somewhere,” he says, guiding Regulus to the chair next to him. “Anyway, this is Regulus, my little brother. Reggie, this is James Potter, my best friend.”
James Potter. Regulus feels the name burn on his tongue with the need to say it.
“Nice to meet you,” James offers him a sweet, crooked smile, exactly like the ones in Regulus’ dreams.
He wonders if James dreams about him, too. He wonders if he smiles in his dreams.
“My pleasure,” Regulus answers, and smiles as well.
The way James’ face flushes at the sight tells him that yes, he dreams of him as well. He has seen him smile. He knows him.
They know each other; even though they just met.
And suddenly, the comeback of his dreams makes perfect sense.
That was his second chance.