Bright Water

September 1982

James was on the verge of dying from nerves and excitement. The gig was in less than thirty minutes, and Regulus had just arrived. He had quickly said hello, but nothing more, as Sirius was present. Just the thought of Regulus standing out there, waiting for them to start, gave James butterflies. He had said yes to coming, he had said yes to James.

The Silver Serpent had a small stage they’d played on frequently over the summer, so the band was familiar with the setup. It wasn’t a big venue, but tonight it was packed. The place lacked a proper backstage room, so the band had temporarily commandeered the toilets, where Sirius had taken over with his makeup bags (yes, plural).

At the moment, Sirius was applying eyeliner with great difficulty, as Remus wasn’t there to help him. Remus was working tonight but would get off in time to catch some of the show, which didn’t exactly calm James. He knew Remus would easily figure out that the song was about Regulus.

“James, can you hand me the small silver bag? The one with all my hair clips,” Sirius asked, continuing to carefully outline his eyes. James nodded and rummaged through the mountain of bags Sirius had brought. There was one large and one small, both silver. He opened the smaller one and found a pile of hair clips. Bingo.

“Do we really have to wait here? I did my makeup at home, unlike someone!” Mary said, sighing dramatically. She was clearly tired of waiting for Sirius to perfect his look. Peter snickered quietly, but it was obvious he agreed with her. Marlene had escaped to chat with Dorcas, and James almost envied her.

“Yeah, yeah, just head out to Marlene. While you’re at it, get your instruments ready,” James said, shooing them towards the door. “Bye!” he added, pushing them out.

He turned back to Sirius, who had finished his makeup and was now working on his hair. Sirius wore black leather trousers with a studded belt and a red tank top that showed off the tattoos on his arms. There were many, but James knew them all – from the first one, depicting the Leo constellation, to the newest, a withered sunflower bowing its head. James knew the meaning of each tattoo, whether Sirius had told him or not. He knew the lion constellation symbolised Regulus because the star Regulus was the heart of the lion. He knew because he knew Sirius.

“Hey, can you put something on my face?” James asked suddenly. He didn’t know where the idea had come from, but he wanted to look good when singing his song to Regulus. Sirius looked surprised, then grinned widely.

“Come here, Jamie, I’ll make you look great,” Sirius teased, but James froze. He hated the nickname Jamie. Honestly, how hard was it to say James? Sirius knew this, but sometimes it just slipped out.

James decided not to make a fuss, especially after seeing Sirius’ expression. Sirius clapped his hands and seated James on the edge of the sink, the most stable surface in the crowded bathroom. He immediately started digging through his bags, and James began to reconsider his choices. Was this a good idea?

“We’ll start with some eyeliner. You always look more intense with eyeliner. Maybe black, for drama?” Sirius suggested with a crooked smile, holding up a small pencil as if it held the answers to life.

“I don’t want to look like you,” James protested but sat still. He trusted Sirius enough to let him proceed, though it might be a mistake.

“No, no, this is James’ version of eyeliner. Subtle but effective. If I’m honest, I think brown would suit you better!” Sirius rummaged through his bags again and returned with brown eyeshadow and a brush.

“Didn’t you say eyeliner? I’m not an expert, but that’s eyeshadow,” James said, baffled, as Sirius gently pulled at his eyelid and began drawing a thin line.

“Relax. Hold still, or I’ll stab you in the eye with this brush,” Sirius warned.

“You’re scarily precise,” James muttered, trying not to blink.

After a few adjustments, Sirius stepped back to admire his work. “Perfect. You look like someone about to break hearts – romantically, of course.”

James laughed nervously. “Thanks… I guess?”

“You’re welcome,” Sirius said dramatically, beginning to pack up his makeup. James jumped down from the sink and looked in the mirror.

Wow.

Sirius had done an incredible job. His large eyes now seemed even larger, framed in a way that made them impossible to miss. Maybe he should let Sirius do his makeup more often. Effie had done it a few times, so she could probably teach him a thing or two if Sirius refused to help.

“Thanks. It actually looks pretty cool,” James said with a low laugh, running a hand through his hair.

Sirius scoffed. "Pretty cool? James, that's the biggest understatement I've heard this week!" Sirius said cheekily, fastening the last bag. He'd pick them up after the show.

"At least it's not the biggest one you've ever heard in your life," James replied with a shrug. He opened the door, stepping aside to let Sirius go first. He was a gentleman, after all.

Together, they walked out of the bar so Sirius could have a smoke. James had already tuned his guitar earlier, so now all that was left was to wait.

Sirius demonstratively flipped his hair back and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He knew James didn’t smoke, but for some reason, he always held the pack out toward James before putting it away. James shook his head, and Sirius sighed before tucking the pack back into his pocket.

“You seem nervous. James, is something wrong? We’ve played here loads of times, so what makes tonight different?” Sirius asked, exhaling a puff of smoke toward the sky.

Ah, what was James supposed to do? He couldn’t tell Sirius that his nerves stemmed from his plan to confess his feelings for Sirius’ younger brother—right in front of all their friends. It was unbearable keeping it hidden, but nothing else would work.

Sirius was his best friend, so it genuinely hurt James to keep secrets from him. They told each other everything! But James knew it was what Regulus would want, and right now, that was all that mattered. So, James took a deep breath and tried a lie.

“Oh, you know, I’ve just been a bit stressed lately. I wrote a new song last night, and… I think I want to play it tonight,” he said, pausing briefly. “I know we agreed on the setlist beforehand, but this is important to me. I don’t need anything but my guitar, so if you let me play it, I’ll be happy.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. He had written a song and was eager to play it, but he left out why it mattered so much.

James looked up to find Sirius staring at him, his expression thoughtful—the one he had when he was plotting something.

“So, if we run through the melody, I can come up with something on the bass to make it easier for Peter to join in. You shouldn’t do this alone—if it’s important to you, we’ll make it great!” Sirius said with a crooked smile, as if unsure whether James agreed. He did. He loved the idea. James was so overwhelmed with emotion he barely registered Sirius’ words. Yes, they were best friends, but this meant so much. James felt tears wetting his cheeks and threw himself into Sirius’ arms. Sirius let out an umf but quickly laughed.

“Careful, or I’ll burn a hole in your shirt,” Sirius joked, moving the hand holding his cigarette away. James sniffled and pulled back.

“Thanks,” he said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

Sirius smiled, took one last drag of his cigarette, then crushed it underfoot.

“Let’s head in and hear that song!” he said, slinging an arm around James’ shoulders. Together, they went inside and grabbed their instruments. They had about 15 minutes left, but Sirius, a skilled bassist, quickly threw something together.

“Hey, I think I’m onto something. If not, I’ll just improvise on stage—it’ll be fine!” Sirius said. At that moment, Remus entered the room. He stopped, his eyes scanning Sirius, who sat there in a sleeveless shirt and tight leather trousers. For a moment, Remus seemed dazed before blinking a few times and turning to James.

“Uh… you’re on in five minutes. Better get ready. I’ll let the others know,” he said with a smile, then added, “You look good, James,” before leaving.

The room was silent for a moment before Sirius broke it. “Doesn’t he think I look good too?” he asked, mock-worried as he glanced down at himself. James’ heart ached. Of course, Remus thought so! Was Sirius even aware of it?

“He does. He’s just not used to seeing me with makeup, so he mentioned that it looks good to boost my confidence. Besides, he couldn’t stop staring at you when he first walked in,” James said gently, still shocked he had to point it out. It was so obvious what Remus thought of Sirius.

The fragile mood was broken as Marlene, Mary, and Peter entered, laughing loudly as they glanced at the two boys.

“Ready to rock?” Marlene asked, clearly having had a few drinks before the show. Sirius’ expression shifted instantly, a grin spreading across his face—he was a master of mood changes.

“Hell yeah! I have a feeling this is going to be good!” he said, standing and offering a hand to James, who took it. Together, they headed for the stage, James with an acoustic guitar and Sirius with his bass. The other instruments were already set up.

The venue buzzed with chatter and laughter as the band stepped onto the stage. The small space felt even smaller, packed with guests. The bar lights cut sharply through cigarette smoke, and the audience clapped politely as the band took their places. James’ heart pounded. This wasn’t their first gig here, but something about tonight felt different.

He scanned the crowd, and there—at the familiar corner table—sat Regulus and his friends. Evan leaned back lazily, laughing at something Dorcas had said. Pandora seemed dreamy, as always. James remembered how, back at school, she would often wander around in her own little world, and that hadn’t changed. Barty looked like he was enjoying an internal joke a bit too much. And then there was Regulus, sitting with a straight back and a cigarette in hand. James hadn’t realised he smoked, but it made sense—nearly everyone did. Regulus’ gaze was fixed firmly on the stage.

James’ hands tightened on his guitar. He’s looking at me. Or… us? The thought sent butterflies through his stomach, and he had to take a deep breath to hide it. Sirius didn’t seem to notice Regulus or his friends—or pretended not to. His expression remained neutral as he set up his bass and checked the cables.

Mary stepped up to the microphone, flashing the audience a bright smile. “Good evening, everyone! Ready for some music?”

Applause and cheers erupted. Sirius glanced out at the crowd, his confident grin returning. He was always in his element on stage, no matter the audience size. James’ nerves morphed into excitement—a feeling he always cherished before a performance.

“Let’s start with a classic,” Mary said, nodding to Peter, who opened with a steady drumbeat. Soon, the familiar melody filled the room, a song they’d played countless times. James stepped forward and struck the first chord on his guitar, the sound met with cheers.

He could still feel Regulus’ gaze on him. Part of him wanted to look back, just to confirm he wasn’t imagining it—but he didn’t dare. Not yet. Instead, he focused on the music, letting his fingers move across the strings finding its rhythm. Sirius swayed slightly to the beat, nodding in time with the bass, and James stepped forward to sing the lyrics.

After playing several songs to an enthusiastic crowd, James took a deep breath. He knew it was time to take his shot. Stepping up to the microphone, his throat suddenly felt dry, but he refused to let the nerves show. “Alright, alright,” he said, flashing the audience a crooked smile. “This next one’s… a little different. I wrote it just last night, so if it’s a bit rough, forgive me.”

Sirius gave him an encouraging nod, and Peter shook the rhythm loose in his hands, ready to follow James’ lead. Mary and Marlene exchanged confused glances but said nothing.
Regulus’ gaze seemed even sharper now, and James felt as if everyone in the room could hear his heart pounding.

He set down the electric guitar and picked up the acoustic. It felt more intimate this way. James let his fingertips find their places and took one last deep breath. There was no turning back now.

"This song is called, Green keeps calling," he said and began to play the opening notes of his new song—a melody filled with longing, hope, and something else he wasn’t ready to name.

As the first notes sounded, he looked out over the audience. They were quiet now, the atmosphere shifting with the notes that lingered in the air. His fingers moved over the strings as though the melody was an extension of himself. His gaze lingered briefly on Sirius, who nodded supportively, but soon it drifted to the left, where Regulus sat. He was certain their eyes met—just for a moment—but it gave him the courage to continue.

His voice was soft at first, almost a whisper, but it had a clarity that drew everyone in. The words carried a fragile truth, like secrets he could only share here.
“There’s a boy who speaks to shadows, whose voice can tame the night. A quiet strength that bends the wind, and keeps the stars alight,” James looked up and found Regulus’ eyes the moment Sirius’ bass line joined in. The sound of the two instruments wove together, forming a perfect harmony.
“The world will never know him, not the way he’s known by me. Like the moon reflects the ocean, he pulls tides I cannot see.”

James finished the first verse, ready for the chorus. More eyes turned toward the stage, and the crowd seemed intrigued to see how this would unfold.

James only looked at Regulus, a small, almost unconscious smile appearing on his lips. The audience didn’t exist to him now. It was just Regulus, as though the song was written and sung for him alone.
“Green keeps calling, like a heartbeat in the trees, soft as summer’s watermelon, sweet as stolen keys. A boy who hides in silence, yet his soul is fierce and free, the color of the heavens when they’re seen by only me.”

In the chorus, James raised his voice slightly, as though his emotions were breaking through. He leaned forward, the guitar’s notes lifting the words as he sang with a strength that showed he meant every word. Peter had started to tap along quietly on the drums, and with every beat, the intensity grew. The rest of the band felt the change in James and began to join in. James glanced around at them all, met with warm smiles. They played with a kind of magic, as if they were all connected through the music and the raw energy of the moment.

The second verse began:
“There’s a tale of two great warriors, their bond a sacred thread, like Achilles and Patroclus, one lives though both have bled. You carry more than shoulders should, a weight I cannot bear, but I’d take it, piece by piece, if you’d let me meet you there.”

His eyes stayed fixed on Regulus, who stared back at him, his gaze frozen. The words seemed to crash over him like waves, leaving him almost paralyzed. This should have worried James, but Dorcas just laughed broadly and elbowed Regulus in the side.

The chorus hit again, but this time James sang with a triumphant tone, a wide smile now lighting up his face. He seemed impossibly light, as though the song had lifted a burden he’d carried for a long time.

At last, he reached the bridge. “If your name was just a whisper, I’d speak it loud and true. But it’s safer in the shadows, where I’ll keep my love for you. The constellations watch us, they know where this will lead, two boys who walk the night apart, yet share the same heartbeat.”

He sang and sang and sang, but Regulus remained frozen, a quiet flame flickering in his eyes. Something was clearly wrong, but James didn’t notice. He was caught in the moment, his voice growing stronger, every line delivered with more confidence, as if he had finally found the courage to say everything.

Regulus took a deep breath, his hands gripping the chair lightly. The flame in his eyes burned brighter now, but he said nothing. He just watched James, his expression unreadable.

James was no longer nervous. On the contrary—he savored every second, every look he caught from Regulus. James sang like someone who knew exactly what he wanted to say and who wasn’t afraid to say it anymore. It was clear to everyone that he meant every word. His gaze didn’t waver once. He knew where he stood with Regulus—or at least, he thought he did.

When he reached the outro, his smile broke through completely. He looked almost relieved, as if he’d shed a heavy weight and could finally be himself. The song was about to end. The song that was only for Regulus, and Regulus alone. He had worked hard to make the meaning clear, even while concealing it from everyone else. James was satisfied with the result. Regulus couldn’t possibly misunderstand the song’s intent.
“If stars could fall to meet the ground, if words were safe where none are found, the moon would paint your name in light, a fleeting kiss upon the night. And if the night should question why, I’d weave your name into the sky. For in the green, I found my home, with you, I’m never quite alone.”

As the last chord faded, James took a deep breath and smiled broadly. He looked at Regulus, his eyes shining with joy and confidence, as though he was waiting for a response. But Regulus remained frozen, his gaze unyielding and inscrutable.

James didn’t register the audience’s applause; all he saw was Regulus. He noticed how his hands slowly joined the clapping, but he refused to meet James’ gaze. The confidence James had felt moments ago began to falter as Regulus avoided looking at him. Was it unrequited? Had he misread everything?

He couldn’t have. Regulus always blushed under his gaze, and he’d let James hold his hand. Maybe Regulus just needed time to think. He seemed like someone who always thought things through before acting. If time was what he needed, James would give it to him—but not too much time. Ten minutes should be enough.

As James stood there thinking, he felt a light nudge at his side. It was Sirius.
“Hey, we’re heading to the staff room. Remus has beer ready.” Sirius smiled, tugging gently on James’ sleeve. James nodded and let himself be led away. He’d have a beer or two, but then he’d find Regulus. This was too important.

Regulus was furious. Suddenly, the saying seeing red made perfect sense, because Regulus was seeing fucking crimson red. Every emotion vanished into the rage that coursed through his body. It was like a tornado, consuming everything in its path.

His thoughts spun in a chaotic whirlwind, feeding his fury. Every time he tried to rationalize what had happened, he landed on the same conclusion: James had chosen himself over Regulus. He had chosen his ego, his confidence, over what they had—or what Regulus had thought they had.

Regulus' usually cold body felt so warm that it should have worried him. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. How could he have been so stupid? He was livid, utterly done with James.

The rage hadn’t hit him immediately, but the moment James left the stage, everything clicked into place. All of it made sense, and it was then that Regulus decided his love for James would no longer blind him. Not anymore. This had gone on for too long, but it ended now.

He glanced at Dorcas, who sat beside him, looking deeply concerned. She had been laughing and nudging him earlier, but now her face was painted with worry. He hated it. Hated it.

Hated, hated, hated it!

Hated him, hated James. Hate, hate hate!

“I need to do something,” he said abruptly, rising from his chair without sparing Dorcas a glance. He ignored her calls as he stormed off.

Regulus could feel his blood pounding in his temples as if his body were a battlefield, and his heart was beating a war drum. His fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, but the pain was a distant, meaningless sensation. He was too consumed by the roaring fury that had taken over him like an unstoppable tidal wave.

How could James do this? How could he be so blinded by his own confidence, so stupidly self-assured, that he didn’t see what he’d done?

He had humiliated Regulus.

The song—every single word—was like pulling back a curtain and revealing a truth Regulus hadn’t considered. Of course, James would do this. It had never made sense for someone like James to like someone like Regulus.

He marched toward the staff room. He knew it was off-limits to guests, but this was urgent. He had to find James. James couldn’t just walk around thinking what he’d done was okay. He needed to know they were done, and that he was a self-absorbed prick.

Regulus’ chest rose and fell rapidly, his anger simmering in his throat, ready to erupt as a scream—a tidal wave of accusations and rage. He wanted to shout, to scream, to tear down everything he thought they’d built.

When he reached the “staff only” door, he shoved it open so forcefully it should have slammed against the wall, but since it was a metal door, it didn’t. The first thing he saw was MacDonald and Pettigrew talking with their backs to him. The next thing he noticed was his brother.

He hadn’t considered the possibility of running into Sirius, but now he was here, staring at the back of his brother’s head.

Fuck!

What the hell was he supposed to do? He needed to talk to James, but... Sirius?

As if things couldn’t get worse, Sirius turned around with a wide smile.

“Remus, I was just wonde—” His smile faltered at the sight of Regulus, and his words died in his throat. It was as if time stood still. The only thing that existed was two brothers and silence. Regulus’ hands trembled, his body quaked, and his anger burned like an inferno, threatening to consume him entirely. Sirius wasn’t helping.

“James,” Regulus said sharply. “Can we talk? Alone.” He emphasized the last word, glaring pointedly at Sirius to make it clear he wasn’t invited.

This wasn’t the time for a family reunion.

James looked at him and nodded toward a small door. Regulus strode toward it, and James followed.

“Hey—what are you doing? You can’t just—where—” Sirius seemed to snap out of his shock and began shouting nonsense after them, but Regulus ignored him and held the door open for James. He shot one last glance at Sirius, who was now heading outside, before slamming the door shut.

Before he could even turn around, James spoke.

“You came to me after the gig,” he said slowly, almost cautiously, as if carefully choosing his words.

Great. Regulus’ plan was already falling apart. He had wanted to take control, to say something first, but it was already too late. He should have spoken first, not James.

But not this time. Not again. Not by James. Not by his sweet voice or the way he tilted his head slightly when confused. He refused to let James control him like that. The James he thought he knew was gone—if he had ever existed.

“And I won’t be doing that again!” Regulus snapped, crossing his arms, his eyes blazing with fury.

They were in the staff bathroom. What a lovely place to have this conversation! Small bags were scattered across the floor and window ledge—likely items the band had brought along.

James looked shocked by Regulus’ reaction, as if trying to understand what was wrong. Ha, why was he even trying?

James’ face softened. “Reg, are you okay?”

And Regulus was about to lose it. How could James stand there and ask if he was okay? James knew exactly what he’d done, so why was he pretending otherwise? It made no sense.

“Listen here, James, I came here to tell you that the way you behave—it’s not fucking okay! Messing with people isn’t okay! It’s cruel, even to someone like me,” Regulus said, his voice shaky with both anger and heartbreak. He barely paused before continuing, “I thought you were different, but clearly, you’re not! You’re a slimy, conniving, dim-witted idiot who has no regard for others. So, let me make this clear: Fuck you, and I never want anything to do with you again!”

Regulus glared at James, his eyes burning with contempt and a pain he could no longer hide. How could he have been so blind? How could he have let himself believe that James could be anything other than exactly what he was—a boy who always had to be the center of attention?

James’ mouth opened and closed a few times, as if struggling to find the words.

“Regulus, what are you talking about?” James finally said, his voice cutting through the silence. “You’re standing here talking about bad behavior while screaming in my face that I’m a slimy, conniving, dim-witted idiot.” James’ hands began to tremble, and Regulus noticed how tightly he clenched his fists.

“Oh, poor little James,” Regulus said mockingly, making a theatrical sad face. “It’s so hard when people see through you, isn’t it? When it’s not all about you anymore.”

He could see the anger spreading across James’ face, and it only fueled his satisfaction.

“Yes, of course, it’s fucking hard! I’m singing my feelings in front of everyone—my friends, old schoolmates, regulars, and you! And what I get in return is a bucket of shit poured over my head. What are you thinking?” James’ voice trembled with frustration, and his words hit Regulus like blows. Spit flew from his mouth, and his fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.
Regulus stared at him for a moment, his own heart pounding with anger. But beneath it all—beneath the burning outrage—there was another feeling he refused to acknowledge. He really needed to sort out his feelings for James. They were only hurting him.
So Regulus forced himself to meet James’ eyes and smiled. Now he would make it 100% clear what the hell he meant.

"What I think? Alright, let me tell you, James: I think you're a bloody gorgeous bloke. That’s what I’ve thought from the first fucking time I saw you, 11 years ago. I think Sirius is incredibly lucky to have you, and that he’s never appreciated it enough until the day he ran away—”

"You think I’m gorgeous?" James interrupted, but Regulus ignored him.

"—I think you must be insane to suddenly want to spend time with me and then try to get to know me. I think I hate how those butterflies I once had for you are back. How you bring me flowers and make watermelon juice. I thought I knew you, but I was wrong." Regulus’ eyes burned, but he held the gaze. "I do nothing but bloody think, so when you stood there, and I realised you’d been stringing me along for—”

"Stringing you along? Reg, what do you mean?" James interrupted, panicked.

"Shut up, James! You know exactly what you’ve done. You made me think I had a chance. That there was a possibility for something, only to sing a love song here, in front of everyone, in front of me! Don’t you think I feel humiliated? Used? I fucking trusted you, but you’ve obviously been playing with me just to see my reaction when you shattered my world. So here it is, James—I hope you enjoy my pain!” Regulus finished.
His breathing was rapid and heavy, and while his face was a mask of stone, no one could mistake the chaos boiling beneath the surface. Fury. Betrayal. A rage so consuming it threatened to tear him apart. James just stood there, staring at him with his mouth slightly open. How could he lead Regulus on for that long? Pretend to like him just so he could reveal that he liked someone else.

Regulus wanted the ground to swallow him whole, for lightning to strike him—hell, even drowning in the sink would do. Anything to get him away from this moment and the consequences of what he’d just revealed. Damn it, that had been stupid. He just wanted James to know his behaviour was unacceptable, not that he liked James.

"I need to be sure about this," James said cautiously. "So please, be as honest as possible."

"Go," Regulus said, looking down at his feet. He was humiliated enough; James didn’t need to make it worse. But he did. Yes. Instead of leaving him alone, James’ hand suddenly touched Regulus’ chin, tilting his face up. Regulus was dying. Thank you. Goodbye.

"Regulus, do you like me?"
Regulus pushed James away, his hands on his chest, shoving as hard as he could. James stumbled backwards, surprised, towards the sink.

"Go on," Regulus nearly snarled. "Laugh at me. It’s about bloody time." There was no confusion for James. He had his answer now.

"Regulus," James said softly. Regulus had to look at him. It was instinct. He had always liked hearing James say his name, but this time? James sounded like he was worshipping, and Regulus was at his altar. It was possibly the best thing Regulus had ever heard in his life. So, of course, he looked up. How could he not?

When their eyes met, James opened his mouth and completely obliterated Regulus’ understanding of the world.

“As sexy as you look when you’re angry, there’s no reason to be jealous of anyone, because that song was about you, Regulus. Every single word I sang was meant for you.”
Regulus blinked, and James stepped closer, and so did Regulus. They were close now. So close their shoes touched.

"It wasn’t about another boy?" he asked, confused.

"No, who would it be?" James asked with a small laugh. "It’s only you," he said, and Regulus was about to faint.
Regulus stood with his back against the door, his chest rising and falling quickly from fading anger and confusion. James was just inches away, his gaze locked onto Regulus’ face.

"And if you don’t move right now, I’m going to kiss you," James said softly but firmly.
Regulus stared at him, his emotions a whirlwind of jealousy, desire, and something else, something he couldn’t quite place. His voice was low, almost a whisper.

"Oh."

James lifted his hand, and it found its way to Regulus’ jaw, his thumb gently stroking the skin there. Regulus could feel his heart hammering in his chest as if it were about to burst out. It felt so nice, so why wasn’t James kissing him?
He had said he—oh.

“Yes,” Regulus said, closing his eyes.

Before he realised it, James' lips were on his. James kissed him as though he’d imagined it a million times, and Regulus had to focus not to faint on the spot.

He was kissing James! James motherfucking Potter!

His lips were warm and soft, as if made just for him. The kiss started gently, almost cautiously, as if James wanted to make sure this was really happening. But it quickly grew more intense, more demanding. Regulus returned the kiss with an eagerness he hadn’t known he possessed. Lips became tongues, and Regulus couldn’t help but let out a low moan when James pressed him against the door with one hand, while the other slid under Regulus’ shirt and rested on his bare stomach. Their bodies melded together, heat and longing merging into an electric connection. His head was spinning; this was everything he had ever dreamed of. It was overwhelming to have James like this, to hold him, knowing James wanted this just as much as he did—or at least, he hoped he did.

Regulus' hands found James' shoulders and held on, as if afraid he might fall if he let go. There was something desperate about their movements, as if they’d both waited far too long for this moment—which, of course, they had.

When James’ hands gripped the hem of his shirt and carefully began lifting it, Regulus’ brain stopped functioning. Cold air met his pale skin as he willingly raised his arms so James could pull the shirt off completely. His mind could focus on only one thing.

James.

James.

James.

James:

James’ tongue brushed over Regulus’ lips, seeking entry, and Regulus obeyed. Their tongues danced in a heated, intimate rhythm, a release of all the pent-up longing. James' hands roamed over Regulus’ bare chest, eliciting small whimpers of pleasure.

James pulled back briefly, enough to lock eyes with Regulus. Their breaths were heavy and uneven, their foreheads nearly touching. James' lips found Regulus’ neck, planting soft kisses, sucking and kissing his way down to the collarbone, worshipping Regulus as if he were divine.

“Reg... I’ve wanted this for so long,” James murmured against his skin, kissing lower and lower. “Ever since that day I saw you with that kitten.”

When James' mouth found its way to his nipple and gently took it in, Regulus couldn’t suppress a moan, his hands wandering across James' back, clutching his hair as if he couldn’t get him close enough.

James teased the sensitive skin even more as he heard the sounds escaping from Regulus. His tongue circled the now-hardened nipple, and Regulus couldn’t hold back his stifled cries of pleasure. He needed James. Pulling him back up, he let his lips do the talking. The kiss became more demanding, their hands more exploratory. James’ fingers found their way to Regulus’ waist, gliding over his soft skin. He gripped gently, and when Regulus moaned into the kiss, James tightened his hold. They stumbled together, and James lifted Regulus onto the edge of the sink, where Regulus wrapped his legs around James’ hips. James groaned softly as they pressed even closer, and Regulus’ hands moved from James’ hair down his shoulders. One hand slid down James’ collar, while the other gripped his neckline, pulling him closer.

It was as though James felt the fiery intensity in Regulus’ grip, kissing him harder and deeper in response to the unspoken passion. Amid their heated kiss, a knock came at the door. Damn it! Who the hell had the nerve to interrupt them now?

The answer was Remus Lupin. Regulus pulled back, his eyes still dark with desire but tinged with irritation.

His hands were still gripping James’ collar tightly, and his legs remained wrapped around James’ hips. This clearly didn’t escape Remus’ notice, as his gaze lingered briefly on their pressed-together bodies. He shook his head lightly, looking between them.

“You’d better hurry up if you don’t want Sirius getting more suspicious. I heard the yelling stop and put two and two together,” he said, making a quick gesture that encompassed them both. “So get moving!”

As quickly as he’d come, Remus disappeared out the door again. Regulus looked disappointedly at James. All the fun had been ruined! James just chuckled softly at his expression, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before picking up Regulus’ shirt from the floor and helping him slip it back over his head. Then he lifted Regulus down from the sink and began fussing with his curls. Regulus blushed at the gesture. James was always so thoughtful—how had Regulus ever thought he might hurt him?

Oh, right: because Regulus couldn’t let himself believe James liked him. It was so hard to accept, but now everything was clear.

“Your hair’s a mess,” Regulus said, smoothing James’ hair. “If Sirius sees you like this, he’ll figure out what you’ve been up to!”

James just grinned broadly. “Oh, and what exactly have I been up to?” he teased, looking down at Regulus with his warm brown eyes.

"You've been busy getting the life teared out of your hair while we snogged so hard I could practically taste your soul,” Regulus said, looking challengingly up at James.

James blinked. Then again. “What?” he asked, surprised.

Regulus smirked mischievously. “You heard me. It looks like you’ve spent the whole evening practising tongue-kissing… with great success.”

A wide, glowing smile spread across James’ face. He wrapped his arms tightly around Regulus’ waist and smothered his face with kisses. “Ah, you’re amazing!” he squealed, letting his forehead rest on Regulus’ shoulder.

Regulus liked it this way—James’ warmth against him.

James sighed. “You’re not going to like this, but I need to tell Sirius about you, Lucy,” Regulus froze against him. “This can’t continue until he knows.”

Regulus pushed James’ forehead off his shoulder. “No,” he answered immediately.

“Regulus, he’s my best friend—I can’t keep it a secret!”

“I don’t care. He can’t find out,” Regulus insisted.

Sirius couldn’t know. Regulus was so happy with this, and Sirius would ruin it. He’d take James away and leave Regulus cold and alone again. In James, Regulus found a light he hadn’t known he needed, warmth he never thought he deserved. Sirius couldn’t take that away. As soon as James told him, Sirius would forbid James from seeing him. Regulus just knew it!

James looked stressed, running his hands through his hair so it was messy again. Regulus hated causing that but couldn’t let him tell Sirius. Regulus was ready to beg, plead, whatever it took to stop him.

“If you tell him, this won’t happen again—he’ll forbid you from seeing me.” James raised a hand, cupping Regulus’ cheek. Regulus couldn’t help but lean into the touch; James’ hand was so warm. Slightly rough from playing guitar, but that only made it more comforting.

“Lucy, love, I’m not going to listen to him. He just needs to know, okay?”

“Can’t we wait a bit?” Regulus pleaded, desperate for a compromise.

James seemed to consider it. His head tilted, his eyebrows drawing together. “What if I tell him we’re friends? He can always find out the rest later,” James offered, looking intently at Regulus.

Regulus simply nodded, which seemed to be answer enough for James.

“I’ll tell Sirius, Regulus. That’s a fact. And I’ll find you when I’ve done it,” James said, letting his forehead fall back onto Regulus’ shoulder.

They stood like that for a moment before James sighed heavily, nodding towards the door. “I’ve got to go,” he said with a crooked smile that went straight to Regulus’ heart. How could one boy have such an effect on him? It was pathetic.

“I know. But we’re not done here,” Regulus said, reluctant but firm. He was determined to let this happen again.

Regulus pulled James close once more, kissing him quickly but passionately, a promise of more to come. Of all the fantasies he wanted to fulfil when they weren’t cramped in a bathroom.

“We’re definitely not done. See you later,” James said with a mischievous grin.

With one last tender touch, James slipped out of the bathroom, leaving Regulus with a mix of satisfaction and longing. He stood alone for a moment, his heart still racing. As James left the room, Regulus was already eager for their next meeting.