Chapter 3
Chapter 3.
James
James was stuck in a never-ending circle of thought. Was that called a paradox? He wasn’t sure. If he texted Regulus going, hey, I know we were both drunk and you only agreed because you were drunk, and it’s a fucking nonsensical trip to dry cleaning so you can pay me money that I don’t need in the slightest, but when should we meet? He would look like an idiot. If he didn’t, he’d look very rude. He didn’t know which personality trait he preferred less.
“Would you rather a person who’s rude or an idiot?” He asked, turning to his right to face Lily, who was making coffee for both of them.
She set down the pot and frowned. “The idiot, I suppose. But the context would matter.”
James frowned back at her. “You should prefer the rude person.”
Her look was way too knowing for his liking. How did she do that? She didn’t even know about the incident with Regulus.
“Well, now that you’ve said that, I definitely choose the idiot.”
He groaned, burying his face in his arms. Lily just set his mug of coffee in front of him and poured hers into a tumbler.
“Stop moping and go sort out your problems, Potter.”
That was how James found himself in a self dry cleaning laundromat, trying to work out how the fuck the coin slot worked, while Regulus Black lounged on one of the chairs like he owned the place.
“It says to put the coin in and turn the handle but when I turn the handle it doesn’t fucking eat the coin- ”
Regulus snickered, tapping one of his boots against the top of the table in a steady rhythm. “Have you perhaps considered using a different coin? There’s a sign right there that says ‘only fifty cent coins’.”
James froze, looking back at him in betrayal. “You knew that? And you didn’t tell me?”
Regulus shrugged, smirking. “You didn’t ask.”
“It’s been ten minutes!”
He shrugged again.
“ Ten fucking minutes I was trying to make this machine eat a fucking coin-”
“I was gifting you the experience.”
“But,” James said, more of a statement than the beginning of a sentence. He glared at Regulus, who stared right back at him with a supremely bored expression, as if he was watching trees grow in real time. They went on like that for a few seconds, Regulus winning, of course, while James got more and more infuriated by his indifference. Then Regulus sighed, rolling his eyes so hard they might never come back, took his feet off the table and crossed the few feet separating them in a few strides with his ridiculously long model legs until he was next to James, in his space, and way too fucking close.
He plucked the dollar out of James’ hand, wearing an irritated look, but the amusement glittering in his eyes gave him away. Regulus had always been like that, his face still but his eyes full of expression. He’d told James once that it had to do with Walburga. They’d been lying on a hill, enjoying the sun, with Regulus sprawled across his lap, staring at his notebook. He’d said that whatever made him happy usually went against her wishes, so he’d learned to keep them hidden so she wouldn’t take it away.
James had wanted to kill her.
“James?”
“Hmm?” He replied absently.
Regulus gave him yet another bored look, tilting his head up slightly to make up for the half-head that James had on him.
“I’m holding out a coin. Take it.”
“What- Oh.”
He took the fifty-cent coin from the younger man’s pale hand, trying not to touch him. He failed. He then tried to ignore the electricity buzzing in his spine at the brush of hands. He failed that too.
The sensation numbed his hands, resulting in him fumbling the coin and missing the slot, and in turn, making him look very foolish. To be fair, he was pretty sure he had already accomplished that. Regulus looked at him in disbelief, as if shocked that anyone could be that dumb, and tugged his coin back out of his hands and did it for him. The washing machine made a rough, throaty whirring sound as it jerked into motion.
“Thanks,” he muttered, flushing deeply and staring at the ground. Regulus just shook his head and moved away from him, retaking his seat. The sunlight started to come in through the window, splaying across his face and contouring his bones and making him look like a goddamn sculpture …
So, it was clear that James was a goner. It wasn’t just nostalgia that he’d felt a few days ago. He was deeply gone, practically embedded six feet under at the bottom of the pacific, frolicking in a black hole in outer space. But he couldn’t be gone for Regulus. That just wasn’t permissible. Regulus having no feelings for him aside, they were both celebrities whose jobs would be very affected if the public found out. And he’d already proven that he’d always choose his career over Regulus, very clearly ten years ago.
If Regulus had been just any other man, James would have tried to make it work, and enjoy himself while it lasted. But he was not just any other man. He was Regulus Black, and Regulus Black deserved every beautiful, good this world had. Not someone who’d throw him away at the first sign of trouble. He deserved a man who was properly in love with him, not James, whose crush (the intensity of said crush aside) would pass sooner or later.
And also, Regulus didn’t like him back. Why would he?
So the problem was: How did he make the crush go away faster?
He had two plausible solutions to this. He could ignore it until it disappeared, or he could face it head-on as a form of exposure therapy. The first one would be easier, but the second would probably be faster. Also, James knew he wasn’t very good at ignoring things. He always ended up thinking about how he was ignoring the thing that he was trying to ignore rather than actually not thinking about it.
So, the second option.
“Regulus?” he asked tentatively, drumming his fingers against his leg. Regulus raised an eyebrow.
“Do you want to get coffee?”
The eyebrow rose some more.
“I mean- just- you know, because…” Actually, James couldn’t think of an acceptable answer.
The younger man looked at him like he was the stupidest thing he’d ever had the misfortune of seeing. “Because what?”
“Because.” He finished, grimacing at his own inability to speak a structurally correct sentence. Regulus stared some more, making his skin feel like it was being burned with a torch. He realized he was probably going to be refused. A few seconds passed in the same uncomfortable silence.
“Move, then, James.”
He blinked confusedly. “What?”
“Is the coffee shop going to move itself to the laundromat?”
“Erm.. no,” he said, still not understanding quite fully.
“Then move your arse, James, so we can follow through on your request.”
“You’re… following through on my request?”
He rolled his eyes and didn’t answer, choosing instead to get up and walk out. After a second, James started and ran after him. He huffed out a breath when he reached Regulus, twisting his head to look at him while following his brutal pace.
“You have to turn right here,” he told him, pointing at the corner in the street. He almost crashed into the shorter man when he turned his direction so sharply. Regulus snapped his fingers in his face, smirking.
“Pay attention, James.”
Regulus
What the fuck am I doing? He mused, watching James smile and thank the woman at the counter, handing her signed napkin back. He had absolutely no fucking excuse to why he was sitting in a cafe with James Potter, exchanging light jabs and friendly banter and feeling the happiest he’d been in ages.
None.
“Give the woman a heart attack, did you?” He said, a smile playing on his lips at the flush in James’ cheeks. It made him look ridiculously like a painting. Fucking celebrities and their gorgeous fucking faces. Because Regulus felt like this around every male celebrity he’d ever met. Of course he did.
“I didn’t-”
“She’s probably hyperventilating in the staff room right now,” Regulus told him as he set down their drinks and sat across from him. James rolled his eyes, grinning. “She probably likes Remus,” he said. “I’ve noticed all his fans have an… aura.”
It doesn’t matter , Regulus thought. You are brighter than he’ll ever be.
“Whatever you say, Potter.”
Not that he disliked Lupin. Quite the opposite, in fact. Remus had been his favorite of all his brother’s friends, when they’d still been on speaking terms, and he suspected this had also been true for the older boy. But James Potter had a certain gravity about him, an instinctive pull that told you to join his orbit. He was like the sun, but without the burn. Everything about him was warm without being hot, inviting without pressure. He made you think you were the most important person in his world, and the world, too, because how could someone so large be anything smaller than the universe?
“So… you like modeling?”
“No,” he said truthfully, hoping James would understand and needing him to not. Of course, empathy and regret flashed in the bastard’s eyes before he (very inadequately) hid it. They’d talked about their dreams a lot when they were young, lying around in Regulus’s bed or sneaking off to some isolated hill. James had told him about how he loved singing, how he loved making songs. Regulus had told him he loved that, too, that he wanted to make songs after he graduated. He’d also told him how much he hated modeling. How he felt people’s admiring gazes touching him, caressing his body with their rough, dirty fingers.
He still did.
“Have you made any good songs? As, like, a hobby?” James asked, clearly giving him an exit. He took it.
“What about you?”
“I think you’d hear them on the radio if I did.”
Actually, he would probably not, since he avoided the band like the plague. That didn’t mean he heard them in other places, though. That also didn’t mean he’d searched each and every one of their songs to find out which ones were about him. He’d been happy for James when his songs moved on to other people. He had.
“Mhm. You have quite the love life.”
James flushed deep red. Regulus ignored the pang of something he refused to acknowledge. He was a twenty-seven year old celebrity with the face and body of a fucking movie star. Of course he was going to have partners. Regulus had people, too, though his weren't really partners. It wasn’t like they were still together.
The pang did not go away. He decided it was irritation at the disgusting coffee.
James’ phone started buzzing in rapid intervals, making the whole table vibrate rather forcefully. They both jumped, having been a bit lost in their respective thoughts. James picked it up and typed something back, his eyebrows drawing together like they always did when he was frustrated. A few seconds later, he sighed loudly and looked at Regulus. “My label is demanding that I come to this meeting they’re having, I really need to go,” he said, looking genuinely sorry.
“Go then.” He replied, wondering why the hell they would call without warning on Sunday. Assholes.
James nodded, quickly gathering his things and getting up to leave. He paused near the door.
“Uh, can we… be, like…” he gestured between them with his free hand. Regulus raised an eyebrow, hating how his heart leapt.
“Like what, James?”
“Like… friends?”
“Friends,” he deadpanned, watching how James’ expression fell slightly.
He should refuse. It was idiotic. Absolutely no good would come of it. They had way too much baggage with each other to ever be something so simple.
“Are you going to give me your number or not?”
He looked ridiculously happy at this, his whole existence lighting up like a goddamn lantern.
At least Regulus had a word for what he felt towards James now.
Friendship. That was all this was.
“Why do you look guilty?”
“I do not.”
“You do,” Barty told him, grinning evilly. “What have you done?”
“I brutally murdered someone.”
“No you didn’t. You wouldn’t look guilty if you murdered someone.”
Regulus flopped down onto the couch, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “I want to have sex.”
“Oh, so you met Potter.”
He sat up, glaring at Barty. “No!”
“Yes you did. You’re trying to exorcise him with some poor guy’s dick.”
A mental image of the two of them sitting in a chalk circle in a candlelit room, waving around a dick and chanting a mantra came to mind. He started giggling, bending over his knees in mirth. God, he was out of his mind.
“You’re mental.” Barty told him flatly. Regulus nodded in agreement, still laughing.
“What the fuck did you do,” he sighed, passing him his own cup of water.
“Nothing!” Regulus protested. Barty was unimpressed.
“Nothing happened, we’re just friends.”
“Friends?” He yelled, making Regulus grimace and cover his ears. “Why the fuck are you friends?”
“It’s not a big deal! I’m just catching up with an old… friend.”
“God, Black,” he said, shaking his head. “Do you want me to prepare your bucket and rope?”
He flipped him off over his shoulder, taking the empty cup to the sink. “If I die, you’re coming with me, Barty. We’ve been over this.”
Barty was wrong. Regulus just needed some time to get over habitual feelings and bodily attraction. Being friends would help. And if he ignored how a small part of him lit up at having James near him again, that wouldn’t be his problem until he acknowledged it, and he didn’t plan on doing that anytime soon.
He was still not doing that when he was in some guy's bed, bored out of his mind in the stuffy room as he acted out moans, wondering if James would fuck him better.