Bright Water

October 1982

Remus POV

Remus sighed. The bar’s lighting was dim, a warm golden hue cast by the old lamps over the worn wood and the gleaming glass bottles standing like soldiers behind the counter. Remus Lupin was scrubbing the floor, his knees protesting against the hard surface, and his back ached after a day that had already been too long. The scrubbing brush moved over the floor in small, circular motions as he tried to ignore the stench of vomit. A drunk idiot had thrown up all over the floor, and now Remus was left with the work, his fingers aching from the effort.

Behind him, James stood at the bar. He was clearly excited, his voice ringing through the otherwise quiet room. He had been talking nonstop for the last ten minutes, and Remus tried to stay focused on his work, though James' words kept pulling at his attention.

"I'm telling you, Moony," James said, and there was a rare softness in his tone, even amidst his usual energy. "He’s… he’s something special. I mean, I knew he was smart, but you should’ve seen him when he—"

Remus sighed silently and closed his eyes for a moment as he stood up, stretching his sore back. He leaned against the mop and looked toward James, who was now gesturing animatedly.

"I know what you're thinking," James continued without giving Remus a chance to respond. "Regulus Black—Sirius’ brother. Arrogant. But he’s really different, Remus. When it’s just the two of us… he’s—"

James paused for a moment, running a hand through his already messy hair. His face lit up with a mix of surprise and pride, as if he still didn’t quite understand how he had ended up here. Remus sighed and walked over to the bar to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He took out another glass and looked at James questioningly, but James just shook his head.

"So, things are going well between you?" Remus asked and took a sip. He was mostly asking just to say something, since he had been unusually quiet during James’ rambling and felt like he should contribute in some way. James grinned widely, and Remus was almost certain he looked a little… smug.

"Yeah, we’re doing really well," James said theatrically, drawing out the words in an annoyingly exaggerated way. "When I tell you that he must be the world champion at making me feel good, I’m not lying. Maybe it runs in the family."

Remus choked on his whiskey. He sputtered, the liquid dripping down his chin. James’ words had nearly made him choke.

Did James have experience with other members of the Black family besides Regulus? He had said maybe it runs in the family in a way that made it sound like he had been with another Black? Sirius?

"What do you mean it runs in the family? You haven’t… you know, with Sirius?" Remus asked quietly, eyes wide as he stared at James, whose smile faded. Okay, that was deeply concerning. They hadn’t actually done something, right?

"I mean, I just hoped for your sake, since you’re so eager to get your hands in his pan—"

"I absolutely am not!" Remus growled, though he knew it was a lost battle. He had long since told James how he felt about the dark-haired boy, so denying it wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t work. So instead, he looked up at James again.

"Go on. I have a feeling there’s more." He spoke slowly, trying to make James realize he could drop all talk of Sirius and his pants.

"Yeah, I meant it as hope," James said, deliberately avoiding Remus’ gaze. "But well, I do know from experience that Sirius is good with his mouth."

Remus’ heart stopped.

It was as if all movement in the world ceased, and the only thing reminding him he was alive was the pounding pulse in his throat. He blinked, and suddenly everything sped up, his heart hammering at a nearly concerning rate, his breathing erratic.

"What!" Remus blurted out in shock.

"Okay, we were 15, and it only happened once! I wanted to know what it was like to kiss a guy, and I think he just wanted to piss off his family, since it happened right after he ran away. You know how rebellious he is. But to answer your question, yes, we kissed, and let me tell you, he’s great with his tongue."

Remus groaned and slowly set his glass down. James had just given him the biggest heart attack. For a moment, he had actually thought James had kissed Sirius knowing how Remus felt about him. But at 15, Remus hadn’t even fully understood his own feelings for Sirius. He had known that his heart skipped whenever Sirius touched him, and that the world stopped turning when Sirius smiled.

But now he was fully aware of it all, not that it made anything better.

It was driving him insane, how Sirius could one day tell him that everything was better when they were together, and the next day be kissing a girl while maintaining eye contact with Remus. It made no sense. Remus was inclined to believe Sirius knew about his feelings and was just teasing him, but sometimes he was the most oblivious idiot. Every time Sirius called him Moony, it felt like an anchor, grounding Remus to something real.

If only Remus could get over Sirius, things would be better. He had been hopelessly in love with Sirius for years, and even after all this time, Sirius’ laugh still had the power to make his knees weak. But he couldn’t get over him—not for lack of trying. Remus had tried practically everything: meeting new people, ignoring Sirius, being with others, even getting a boyfriend (which was difficult, considering the only guy he was attracted to was Sirius).

There had been one boy who had caught Remus’ attention. A guy named Grant, who had, admittedly, been interested in Remus as well. Things had actually gone really well between them—so well that Grant had even been introduced to James, Peter, and yes… Sirius. And that was exactly what had ruined it.

Sirius had never liked Grant, not even before meeting him. It was as if the idea of Remus having a boyfriend (because yes, they had been boyfriends, and Remus had told his friends) got under Sirius’ skin. He always spoke badly of Grant and complained that Remus was spending more time with his boyfriend than with them. And when they finally met, Sirius wasn’t just rude (which Remus had warned Grant about), he had glued himself to Remus’ side.

The only name Sirius called him was Moony, and he kept referring to Grant as Gavin or Gerald. He even went so far as to put a hand on Remus’ thigh and not move it for the entire lunch.

James had, of course, tried to stop him and lighten the mood, but Sirius wouldn’t let up, and it was physically impossible for Remus not to melt under Sirius’ touch. It had been a nightmare.

Because Grant was a sweet guy, he hadn’t been angry—just hurt by how it all ended. Remus had told him about Sirius before they got together, so it hurt to admit to Grant that he wasn’t over Sirius, like he had thought.

So, that was how Sirius had single-handedly ruined the only functioning relationship Remus had ever had. One would think he’d realize his own attraction to Remus after that episode, but no. If anything, he had pulled further away, as if guilt was weighing him down.

So now, a year after breaking up with Grant, Remus was no further along in his increasingly long, tragic love story.

Sirius was still the one. And if he told Sirius that? It would be the end of their friendship. Remus was sure of it.

"Can you please stop talking about your boyfriend’s brother’s tongue?" groaned Remus, looking at James. His head was slightly foggy from all the thoughts of Sirius.

"I don't really know if you can call us boyfriends. Yeah, we’ve kissed, and yeah, I’ve seen him without a shirt—" James abruptly stopped and gasped. "You know how Regulus wears his clothes kinda baggy, right? But when I took his shirt off—he has the sluttiest little waist! I mean—it's—he's—it's honestly one of the sexiest things I've seen in a long time!" James said, doing a little excited hop as a very proud, very self-satisfied smile spread across his face, lighting it up.

Remus groaned again and reached for the whiskey bottle to refill his glass. He definitely needed more alcohol if he was going to survive more of James’ yapping.

"And the sounds he makes; Moony, I swear everyone should hear them! Which reminds me—" James gasped again and clapped his hands. "Okay, now this is good; sit back and listen. Barty walked in while we were in the middle of an intense tongue tango!"

Remus quickly swallowed his drink because his mouth had fallen open, and it was dangerously close to spilling out. He blinked hard.

"He what?" he asked, stunned.

"Yeah, apparently Regulus had called him over but completely forgot when I showed up. So, right in the middle of Regulus putting on a full-on concert, Barty walks through the door and starts commenting."

Remus just stared, mouth still hanging open. Barty? As in Bartemius Crouch Jr.?

Remus vaguely remembered Regulus, him, and the Rosier twins sharing a cigarette, but nothing else about Regulus’ friends came to mind. Well, he had seen Dorcas, Pandora, and Regulus together at concerts and heard from James that Evan had been at his place. But he had completely forgotten that Bartemius even existed.

"He’s supportive, don’t worry," James said when Remus took too long to respond.

Remus blinked again as if trying to clear his brain of the many impressions James had just thrown at him. He rubbed his forehead, feeling a growing headache breaking through—partially from the whiskey, but mostly from James' detailed storytelling.

"Supportive?" Remus repeated, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "How the hell can Barty Crouch Jr. be supportive? That sounds like the setup for a terrible life choice."

James just shrugged and grinned. "He said, and I quote: ‘It’s actually interesting how you go from hair panic to make-out session, Regulus. Respect to Potter.’"

Remus’ whiskey nearly went down the wrong way, and he started coughing violently, his face shifting between confusion and sheer horror. "I—what?!" he finally choked out between coughs.

"Yeah!" James’ face lit up with pure delight at retelling the drama. "And the best part was Regulus’ reaction. He turned so red I thought he was going to explode. Anyway, I ended up leaving when Barty refused to go."

Remus stared at him with a mix of disbelief and resignation. "James, how can you talk about this so—so... casually?" he asked, gesturing wildly with his hands. "You are seriously the only person I know who could turn Regulus Black into the main character of a—what do we even call this? A romantic comedy?"

James laughed and shook his head. "Romantic comedy? More like an epic, Remus! We’re like Romeo and Juliet, but without the tragic death—and with way more kissing."

"And apparently with an audience," Remus muttered dryly, reaching for the bottle again to refill his glass. He definitely needed more alcohol if he was going to survive more details.

"Barty is not an audience," James protested, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. "He’s more like a... cheerleader. A wildly inappropriate and deeply sarcastic cheerleader, but still!"

Remus rubbed his temples and glanced at the bottle, which was already half-empty. "I think I understand why Sirius never really talks about his brother. This is... too much."

James leaned back with a satisfied grin and nodded at Remus. "Oh, just you wait. I have so many more stories for you."

Remus shot him a warning look. "If you mention his sluttiest little waist again, I will pour the rest of this bottle over your head."

James laughed loudly, raising his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I’ll hold back. But you can’t deny it’s kind of amazing. I mean, who would have thought that Regulus Black, of all people, could be so... so..."

"Stop. I beg you." Remus made a cutting motion through the air and leaned back with a resigned sigh. "When are you even seeing him again?"

James glanced up at the clock hanging over the bar, and a smile spread across his face. "He’s coming over to mine at six. You’ll be with Sirius, Mum and Dad are out. So it’ll just be us," James paused briefly. "But I should get going now if I need to buy groceries first and cook dinner. I also need to tidy up the living room." He shot an apologetic smile at Remus, who was more than happy to get rid of James so quickly and easily.

They said a quick goodbye, and then Remus was alone in the bar again. Normally, it wouldn’t close this early on a Friday, but some workers were coming in to fix an issue with the plumbing, so they had decided to close early.

He probably needed to leave soon too. You never knew when Sirius would show up—he was never punctual—but it was practically a given that he’d arrive early. Typical Sirius, making sure he had a little extra time to talk to Peter before their date.

Peter had mentioned something about visiting his mother, so it was clear he wouldn’t be around tonight. No risk of interruptions. It would just be the two of them. Sirius and Remus. The moon and the star.

Remus sighed heavily at the thought of Sirius—the boy who had his heart in an iron grip. Would it ever end happily? He doubted it. Loving Sirius had never been a conscious decision—it was more like an unavoidable part of his nature, an instinct he couldn’t control.

Deep down, he knew he would never feel this way about anyone else, and that was both a comfort and a burden. It would undoubtedly be his undoing.

They always fought like fire and water, but somehow, they always found their way back to each other.

So the question was: where would they end up this time—after tonight?

James adjusted his glasses with one hand, the other swirling the pot in front of him. The kitchen was warm, the air thick with steam and spices, the scent of butter and garlic gently floating through the room. He’d spent most of the afternoon tidying up the house—something he’d normally have left to his mum—but tonight was different. Tonight. The time was 17:58, and Regulus should be there any moment. James hadn’t seen him since Sunday, and he could feel a nervous, electric kind of excitement coiling in his chest.

Dinner. It was a bit strange, really, this whole idea of cooking for Regulus. They’d only ever eaten together at one restaurant before, or that one morning when Regulus was too tired to make food himself. But tonight, James had decided to try his hand at something new—something real.

Earlier, he’d made watermelon juice, thinking it would be refreshing, just the right touch to complement the meal. And then he’d started preparing Aloo Gobi, carefully balancing the spices, wary of the chili. He vividly recalled the memory of Sirius and his first family meal. He could still picture Sirius’ pale face turning a vibrant shade of crimson, his eyes watering as he’d choked on the fiery heat. When he’d tried to put out the fire with a glass of milk, he had started coughing violently, and the milk had shot straight out of his nose. Sirius had been mortified and terrified of being kicked out, but Effie had just laughed and fetched some paper to clean up. James had never seen someone try to drown a chili with so much milk. It was a miracle it hadn’t also shot out of his ears.

James chuckled to himself as he fished out a small chili that had been simmering in the pot to flavour the dish. He dipped his little finger into the sauce to make sure it wasn’t too spicy. It wasn’t. Just as he was about to put the lid back on the pot, the doorbell rang. James looked up at the clock. Exactly 18:00.

A grin spread across his face, and a flutter of something warm filled his chest as he walked to the door.

James took a deep breath to calm the small flutter of excitement rising in him before he opened the door. And there he was, exactly as always, but somehow it felt like something was different. Regulus wore his usual neutral expression, but James recognised the subtle, almost hidden glimmer of nervousness in his grey eyes. Something was shifting between them, unspoken, yet tangible.

"Right on time," James said with a crooked smile that lit up his whole face.

Regulus raised an eyebrow and shrugged a little as if it didn’t matter. "Some of us appreciate precision, Potter," he replied with that dry humour that always made James laugh. The moment James saw the corner of Regulus’s mouth twitch upwards, he quickly stepped forward and gave Regulus a quick kiss. It wasn’t a long or deep kiss, just a gesture to show that he appreciated Regulus’s presence.

James stepped aside to let Regulus in. "Welcome. Shoes off, make yourself at home – and get ready to be impressed. I’ve made dinner."

Regulus paused to take off his shoes. Even that was done with elegance! James was enchanted.

James watched patiently as Regulus neatly placed his shoes by the door and removed his jacket. Of course, it fit him perfectly. It didn’t matter what Regulus wore; he always looked good. Whether it was an old, worn-out sweater or a spacesuit, it always seemed like Regulus was a work of art.

Regulus handed James his coat, and James took it with a laugh.

"Let me guess – custom-made?" he teased as he walked over to hang it up.

"Of course," Regulus answered calmly as he moved further into the hallway.

James smiled. He loved that about him. The casual arrogance, the certainty in every movement, every word. He’d follow Regulus anywhere—he would always do that.

Regulus’s gaze flicked around, inspecting every little detail of the large house as they walked through. He stopped in the hallway to look at a photograph of Sirius and James, both of them lying on their backs in a meadow, buckets perched atop their heads. Regulus turned to James, the faintest curiosity in his expression.

"When was this taken?" he asked quietly.

“Hmm, we must have been 12 or 13. I managed to sneak him home with me during the summer holidays. Your parents were furious and picked him up after a couple of days. It was totally worth it, though!” James replied, smiling at the memory of that warm summer. They had had a water fight outside until their legs couldn’t carry them anymore. That summer had felt endless.

Regulus nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on the photo a moment longer before continuing into the kitchen. The moment they stepped inside, James couldn’t help but notice how Regulus’ eyes flicked to the stove, scanning the room as if he were reading it. He seemed pleased, even though his usual poker face tried to mask it. Steam and spices still filled the air. Would the rice be ready soon? Then at least they could eat. James watched as Regulus’s face lit up slightly, though he tried to hide it behind his usual poker face.

"It smells… surprisingly good," Regulus said, and James couldn’t decide whether it was a genuine compliment or a hidden insult. That’s just how it was with Regulus, but James loved it. There was something about the way Regulus insulted him that made James feel... delightful. Every sarcastic remark made James want to giggle, as though Regulus had just declared his love for him.

This time, James decided to take it as a compliment. Maybe.

James pulled a mock-indignant face and placed a hand dramatically on his chest. "Surprising? I’m almost offended! Do you really think I can’t cook?"

Regulus raised an eyebrow and casually leaned against the kitchen island. "Honestly? Yes. I actually thought you’d be terrible at it."

James let out a short, ridiculous huff of disbelief and turned back to the pot to check if the rice was ready—still not done. Two more minutes.

“That’s rough. My mum’s amazing at cooking, I’ll have you know."

"Indeed," Regulus replied with a crooked smile, folding his arms across his chest and looking at James mockingly. "The key word in that sentence is mum."

James threw a glance over his shoulder with an exaggerated raised eyebrow. "Since when did you get so mean?"

"I’ve always been mean," Regulus answered dryly, tilting his head back. His eyes, however, held a faint glint that looked almost playful. Just enough to keep James on his toes.

James placed the lid back on the pot and slowly walked over to Regulus, a grin spreading across his face. He leaned in a little, the table behind Regulus acting as an anchor for his hands. James grinned in self-satisfaction as Regulus started to breathe a little faster. Just the thought that his presence could make Regulus nervous made James happy.

"Well, I hope I can surprise you tonight – and change your opinion of my kitchen skills," he said very slowly, looking down at Regulus’s mouth.

“That’ll be difficult,” Regulus replied with a small laugh, but James could see that he was clearly already impressed by the smell that filled the room. He leaned a bit forward, but James clapped his hands together and turned on his heel. "We’ll see. Just wait – you’ll end up licking the plate clean."

Regulus sighed and shook his head, but there was a hint of warmth in his eyes that made James feel like the world had just shifted. He had a way of making Regulus... human, peeling back the layers with each passing moment.

James rabbed the plates and cutlery while Regulus desperately tried to find glasses. When he finally found them, James had already dished out food for both of them and was waiting at the table. Regulus sat down, and James pushed the chair in with a playful flourish.

Regulus gave James a sceptical look as he let himself be pushed into the table. "I’m not sure if I should be flattered or confused. Is this some kind of date ritual I don’t know about?"

James laughed and sat down across from him, leaning back and looking him directly in the eyes. "I’m just a gentleman, Reg. Take it as a compliment."

Regulus snorted lightly and shook his head, but James could see a slight flush creeping up his cheekbones. He’d always been bad at hiding it, James noticed. He always noticed. "You’re something else, Potter."

"And you love it," James said with a crooked smile, lifting his fork and briefly pointing it at Regulus.

Regulus ignored the comment and grabbed his glass. He looked at it curiously before glancing up at James.

"Anything to drink, or should I bring my own?" he asked with a small smile, still affected by James’s closeness.

James laughed and got up. "I’ve made something special just for us." He walked over to the fridge, opened it, and took out the watermelon juice. Regulus turned in his chair to see what James was finding. A little sigh escaped him when he saw the pink liquid. Watermelon juice.

"I thought you’d appreciate it," James said as he walked back to the table. He carefully took Regulus’s glass from his hand and filled it up. Once he’d filled both glasses, he placed the jug on the table.

With a little sigh, James sat down at the table too – now dinner could begin.

"I should warn you – I’ve put all my soul and magic into this meal. If you don’t like it, my soul will probably haunt me for the rest of the evening. No pressure."

Regulus shook his head with a small laugh and ran a hand through his freshly cut hair. Whether he meant to or not, James’s gaze was caught by the movement, and before he knew it, he had said, "By the way... your hair looks really good."

Regulus looked up, surprised, and raised a hand to his hair. "My hair? It’s just... it was getting too long." He almost looked as though he wanted to brush the comment off, but hesitated when he saw James’s sincere expression. Was he doubting his beauty?

"No, seriously," James said, leaning a little closer as if to emphasise the point. "It suits you. It looks... yeah, fresh. Nice," he smiled. "You’re good-looking!"

Regulus briefly looked away, and James noticed how he lightly bit the inside of his cheek, as he always did when he felt a little uncomfortable. Maybe just nervous this time?

"Thanks," Regulus mumbled, and a faint blush coloured his cheeks.

James leaned back again with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased that he'd thrown Regulus off balance a little. "Well, I'm glad you don't hate it. I was a bit worried you'd come back with some mysterious Black hairstyle that looked all... well, dramatic. I don't know if I trust Crouch with scissors."

Regulus chuckled softly and shook his head. "Barty's perfectly fine, amazing with scissors. I don't think I could do it, even if I tried, the dramatic hair. My b—Sirius took all that dramatic energy. I'm more into... simple."

Had Regulus been about to say brother? It had sounded like it, but James did tend to hear what he wanted. But he hoped, oh, how he hoped. Perhaps there was a chance to reunite the two brothers. But not yet.

"And it suits you," James said quickly, still with that crooked smile. "Simple suits you. You don't need all that extra."

Regulus looked up again, this time with an expression that was a little softer, a little more open. "It suits you too, being sincere, Potter. You should try it more often."

James laughed and shook his head. "I am always sincere. You just aren't used to it."

"Mm, maybe," Regulus said, before taking another sip of his juice. "Or maybe I'm just getting to know you better."

James' smile spread, and for a moment, it felt as though time stood still. "Maybe," he said quietly. "But now we really should eat before the food gets too cold!"

Regulus laughed as James enthusiastically began shovelling food into his mouth.

Regulus reached for his fork and took a more measured portion on his plate. He watched James for a moment, who seemed to be enjoying every bite as if he'd won a great prize.

"You eat like you haven't had food in days," Regulus remarked with a crooked smile, taking his first bite.

But then he suddenly stopped. James looked up, still chewing, with a confused expression. He saw how Regulus' fork slowly lowered back toward the plate, his eyes widening a little, as though he’d just realised something wasn't quite right. He furrowed his brow slightly, and a small cough escaped him before he grabbed his glass and took a quick sip.

James laughed and waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "What's wrong? Are you already planning to admit that I'm a master chef?" he asked, still chewing and swallowing with satisfaction.

Regulus looked up at him, and his gaze was... strange. It wasn't the usual skeptical or teasing look, but rather a mixture of panic and something that resembled shock. James raised an eyebrow and leaned a little forward while continuing to eat. "Honestly, Reg, it can't be that bad, can it?"

"James..." Regulus began, his voice hoarse and low. He reached for the jug and poured frantically more juice into his glass, which he immediately took a big gulp of. "What have you done to this dish?"

James stopped chewing and blinked a couple of times. "Done to it? I made it. What else would I have done?" He put his fork down, looking as confused as ever. "It's just a bit of seasoning to give it flavour. It shouldn't—"

He trailed off as Regulus took yet another large gulp of juice and looked up at him with wide eyes. Regulus' cheeks were flushed, and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. James stared at him for a few seconds before it dawned on him. "Wait..." he said slowly, and a laugh began to form. "Is it... too spicy for you?"

Regulus blinked irritably and slammed his glass down. "Too spicy? James, it feels like I just ate a flaming salamander!"

James couldn't suppress a small laugh, but stopped when Regulus' eyes pierced him. Okay, how long had he been practising that look? How was it possible for him to stab James with a look? But if James were honest, he kind of liked it. So, James softened his grin into a smile.

"I really tried to hold back on the chili—"

"Didn't work!"

"—but I must be immune to the burn. I remember clearly how Sirius spat milk out of his nose the first time he had a dish that was too hot," James replied, ignoring the fact that Regulus had interrupted him. His comment was reassuring, though, because Regulus' shoulders relaxed back into place. James studied Regulus closely; his cheeks were still red, but the colour was fading slowly, his lips wet from the juice and small tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

Oh.

He had really put too much chili in the food, for Regulus' delicate French genes.

He reached a hand across the table to wipe away a tear from Regulus' cheek. He smiled gently, trying to show Regulus that he wasn't angry. How could he be angry? It wasn't Regulus' fault that he couldn't handle as much chili as James. So maybe it was more to reassure Regulus that he wasn't being stupid, that it wasn't embarrassing. To prove to him that James wasn’t making fun of him. At least not too much.

"Hey, you can just have plain rice then. Is that alright?" he asked, pulling his hand back so he could see Regulus' beautiful face better.

"How does one spit milk out of their nose?" Regulus asked instead with a furrowed brow, still confused by the story of how Sirius reacted to chili. Was he still on that topic? James loved it! How the smallest grammatical mistake could catch Regulus' brain like that. It was fascinating, and James would definitely use it again if he needed Regulus' attention.

"You know what I mean," James laughed, extending his hand toward Regulus. "Come on, let's get you some milk and a fresh plate of rice."

Regulus sighed but stood up to follow James. Would he always do that? James truly hoped so, because he was starting to realise that this wasn’t just a game. His feelings for Regulus grew every day, and the more time they spent together, the more he fell for him. Serious feelings had now mixed in, and he was more vulnerable than ever. Even when he'd liked Lily, it had never been the same. It had never meant the same! No, this was something entirely special, and James was certain that if Regulus didn’t give him a proper reason to stop loving—liking him—then James would continue until the world stopped spinning, until the sun stopped shining, or until the stars stopped twinkling. If Regulus allowed James, he'd be there for the rest of their lives, and he wouldn’t leave Regulus’ side for a second. James sighed; he knew it was far too early in their relationship to feel this way and far too early to put these feelings into words. Regulus probably didn’t feel the same way yet, and that was okay. Not everyone loved the way James did. At least some feelings were reciprocated, or at least there was attraction.

Regulus gently squeezed James' hand, and it dawned on James that they had stopped. He quickly put a smile on his face and leaned down to kiss Regulus' cheek.

For now, it had to be enough, even though James wished for so much more.

"I just need some milk, James," Regulus said in a soft voice, as though he understood a lot was going on in James' mind right now.

"Why? You’re not going to starve on my watch!" James said, confused.

"I—"

"We've also got leftovers from yesterday - we had pasta. You like that, don't you? Or I can throw something together, without chili. Is that better?" James asked, already heading for the stove. If Regulus didn't like rice, he should just say so. James could make something else.

"James?"

"What about soup? It doesn't take long to make," James said, now rummaging through pots.

"James."

"Uh, we could also make a toast. With or without ham?"

"James!" Regulus said again, more firmly this time, hoping to get James to shut up. Which it did. James turned around to look at the younger boy. 

"I only need milk because I ate before coming here."

Oh.

Had he eaten before? Why? James had asked him to show up at six, which of course would include a meal. Had Regulus doubted there would be food? He couldn't possibly think James would let him show up on an empty stomach.

The questions must have been written all over his face because Regulus chuckled quietly.

"Jamie, I didn’t eat because I wasn’t sure there would be food. I was just playing it safe." Regulus moved toward James and grabbed his face, but James barely noticed. Had Regulus really doubted there would be food? He knew James well enough to know that even if he’d forgotten to cook, James would have made something for Regulus. He would’ve made anything for Regulus.

"Your food was lovely, just a little... spicy," Regulus added when James still said nothing. He stood on his toes and rubbed his nose against James' neck.

"Say something, James. You’re not angry, are you?" Regulus asked softly, continuing to rub his nose against James' neck. It snapped James out of his own world. Of course, he wasn’t angry! Regulus kissed his neck gently, but James pulled away a little.

"No... I'm not angry, just a bit surprised," he looked at Regulus with a smile. "Did you doubt there would be food, Regulus?" James asked because that was really the only thing that confused him. James thought he’d made it clear the first time they ate together that it was important for him to make sure Regulus had food in his stomach.

But apparently not.

It was all his fault, and James had to do better. He really thought he'd been clear about that, but this just proved that he had not. James needed to do better, because Regulus deserved better.

Regulus looked away, his cheeks turning red. Was he ashamed? James truly hoped not. There was nothing wrong with Regulus' conclusion, only with how James had shown his care. If Regulus had doubted, then James must’ve done something wrong and he was determined to change that. He intended to be the best boyfriend(?) Regulus would ever have or had had. The best!

"It… I didn’t doubt, I just wasn’t sure. There’s a difference."

"Sorry."

"Sorry for what, James?" Regulus asked confusedly; they had long since forgotten about the milk.

"That you doubted. You shouldn’t have, so I must have done something unclear if you doubted," James said, scratching his neck while doing anything but looking Regulus in the eyes. If he looked into those grey eyes, he wouldn’t be able to look away.

"James, my uncertainty has nothing to do with your efforts in..." he made a chaotic hand gesture between them. "...this."

James blinked. Did they have anything else but this? Were they anything else?

"You... you’re more than enough, James! I—do you know that? Are you aware that you’re not responsible for others’ feelings? Yes, you should, of course, consider them, but that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to please others." Regulus continued, stepping closer to James. Eventually, they were so close that their shoes touched. James swallowed a lump in his throat but still refused to look Regulus in the eyes.

"James, you know that, don’t you?" Regulus asked again, searching for James’ gaze, which was still practically impossible. James opened his mouth to speak, but it took a few more seconds before anything came out.

"Yes, but... I—" James sighed. "It feels like it. I—it's my... my responsibility to help others. I have the opportunity, and... and you mean a lot, so I want to do it right. I want you to know that I’m looking out for you, okay?" James stumbled through the sentence as the words were hard to get out. They didn’t come out quite right either because what James said didn’t entirely fit. Yes, he felt responsible to take care of or at least help people, but it ran far deeper than what James could explain. It wasn’t just about others, but about him. It was about being a good person, solid. If James wasn’t happy or positive, how could others be? His friends had become so used to him always being happy that now it was almost a bad sign if James was sad. And he wasn’t allowed to be sad! There were so many others who had it worse than him, like Sirius. He had it so much worse, so it wouldn’t be fair for James to start mourning his trivial problems.

Regulus smiled sadly, as though it genuinely hurt him that James felt this way.

"But James, you can still be a good person and prioritise yourself."

"But others need it more."

Regulus snorted and muttered under his breath. "Merde, this is really something we need to work on." He then took James’ face in his hands and kissed him. It wasn’t a wild kiss, but a slow, gentle one. One meant to show love and support. One that made James melt. This kiss was for Jaes, and he knew that. Regulus was showing him, that James needed to take care of himself too, by taking care of him. And it helped. James felt better immediately as his dark trails of thoughts drowned in the heat of Regulus. When Regulus pulled back, he smiled faintly.

Then it clicked. 

“Did you just speak French?” James asked, his voice light with air, as he had recovered from the kiss. It hadn’t occurred to him at first, and it was harder to understand when Regulus kissed him a second later. But in the moment their lips parted, James had time to register Regulus’ words. F. R. E. N. C. H.

Regulus chuckled softly. “Yes,” he glanced up at James through his long lashes. “Did you like it?”

James couldn’t help but nod. Regulus, speaking French? It couldn’t get any better! He was surprised he hadn’t figured it out—that he would sound so fantastic doing it.

“Tu aimes ça, hein? Je pense que tu aimerais aussi que je te lèche les abdos,” Regulus said slowly, still maintaining eye contact.

And fuck!

How was James supposed to survive this?

If Regulus kept this up, his brain would completely stop functioning. It was already starting to happen. So, he had to stop it, and the only way was to snog Regulus senseless. Kiss him until he couldn’t breathe and forgot all about speaking French. So James did just that, leaning slightly forward to catch Regulus’ lips in a kiss. Regulus responded with equal fervor.

So there they stood, in James’ kitchen, kissing, long forgotten was the glass of milk meant to quench the fire in Regulus’ throat. They stood there, kissing so intensely it sparked a new fire, this time in James’ heart. One far harder to extinguish, and one where milk wouldn’t help.

Sirius POV

Sirius let his fingertips glide over the rough wool of the blanket, while the flames cast flickering shadows on the ceiling. The flames also threw soft shadows on the wall, their crackling dance the only thing breaking the silence in the apartment. Sirius sat with his back against the couch, the blanket pulled up over his legs, resting his head on Remus' shoulder.

Remus sat with a book in his hands, but he hadn’t turned a page in several minutes. He knew Sirius wasn’t asleep—the slow, yet restless movement of his fingers on the edge of the blanket gave it away. They had eaten dinner and talked for hours, but now they were settling in front of the fire. Now they sat there, and Sirius could do nothing but enjoy their closeness. The way he could hear Remus’ breathing, feel his warmth, and know it was just the two of them made Sirius feel warm inside. He couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of pure satisfaction.

However, his sound must have pushed something in Remus, for the silence was broken.

“You don’t have to stay,” Remus mumbled, his voice low and hoarse from the warmth in the room.

Sirius chuckled softly, a brief puff of warmth against Remus’ neck. “And miss your fabulous company?” He turned his face slightly and glanced up at him with the crooked smile he knew would make Remus look away. “Never.”

Remus looked away, shaking his head, but there was a small smile on the corner of his mouth that he couldn’t hide.

“It’s late,” Remus said quietly, not looking up.

Sirius took a deep breath, a small smile in his voice. “Is that a polite way of kicking me out, Moony?” Sirius loved calling him “Moony,” not just because it was his nickname, but because it always made Remus look at him with that soft, entertained expression.

Remus’ mouth curled slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

They both knew that Sirius wouldn’t leave until the next day, so Remus’ attempts were half-hearted. It worked well for them to argue. Whether it was small comments or big fights, Sirius always found… comfort in them. It was bizarre and strange, but Sirius often found himself deliberately provoking Remus just to start an argument. Yes, it sounded unhealthy, but they had the ability to get past their arguments, even the big ones. Sirius loved them, and he didn’t feel guilty about it.

He looked at Remus, who still hadn’t turned the page. His brown half-curly hair hung into his eyes, and his eyes were warm. His nose was fine and delicate, while his lips were full and soft…

“You should get a lip piercing!” Sirius blurted out without thinking. He moved away from Remus so he could see him better. “Or an eyebrow piercing, but that’s another discussion. The point is, you’d look fucking hot with a piercing around your mouth!” He blushed slightly as he heard himself say it out loud, but resolutely ignored it and let an excited squeal slip out.

Remus stared at him, as though he had just suggested he should wear a school uniform for the rest of his life. He furrowed his brow in a puzzled expression. “A piercing?” he repeated skeptically.

“Yes!” Sirius nodded enthusiastically. “Or a tattoo, but start with a piercing—just a little ring in your lower lip. It would give you an edge, Moony.”

Remus squinted. “Edge?”

Sirius dramatically threw his arms out. “Yes! People would see you and think, wow, that guy has either been to prison or plays bass in some semi-obscure rock band.”

Remus blinked slowly. “Fantastic. That’s always been my life goal. Besides, you’re the one in a band, not me! My job is to get people to buy more drinks, so I’d rather not scare them off!”

Sirius ignored the sarcasm and sharp remarks, clapping his hands instead. “Great! We can go get it done tomorrow?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on!” Sirius leaned in closer with a convincing smile. He knew it wouldn’t happen, but when it came to Remus, Sirius was always willing to give everything an extra shot. So he continued. “If you hate it, we’ll just take it out again.”

“As if you’d let me take it out,” Remus replied cheekily, and he was right. If Remus got something as sexy as a lip ring, Sirius would never let him take it out again. It would simply be a crime for anyone who had seen it.

Sirius’ smile spread. “No, you’re right. I wouldn’t let you take it out. You’d look too badass. Like a mysterious character from an awesome comic—one who shows up in the third act, says one sarcastic line, and then vanishes in a cloud of cigarette smoke and existential pain.”

He made a dramatic gesture, as though puffing smoke into the room, sending Remus an exaggerated, dark look. “People would think: Who is he? What has he been through? Does he like jazzzz?”

Remus stared at him dryly. “Sirius, I work at a pub and drink tea with honey. I’m not a mysterious jazz guy.”

Sirius waved dismissively. “That’s exactly why you need the piercing! For depth! For intrigue!” He leaned forward and squinted. “Imagine it: A customer orders a beer, but then they see your piercing and think, that guy has seen things. They’ll give you a generous tip just to hear your life story.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Or they’ll think, that guy is heading into an early midlife crisis.”

Sirius sighed dramatically. “You don’t understand your own potential.”

Remus groaned, but a small laugh escaped. “You’re a pest.”

Sirius smiled and leaned backward.

Their shoulders brushed, an almost imperceptible touch, but enough to send a wave of warmth through Sirius, not just from the fire. He turned his head slightly, observing the way Remus’ eyes now rested on the book’s pages without really reading. He had hoped Remus would drop it and give him his full attention, but as soon as Sirius stopped talking, Remus returned to the book. It pained him. Sirius longed for Remus’ gaze, as the moon longs for the sun’s rays. He wanted Remus’ eyes on him, even though it made him feel more seen than ever before. He wanted so badly for Remus to like him that nothing else mattered. As soon as Remus Lupin had given his opinion, no one else’s mattered. Honestly, it was pathetic, and Sirius was aware of it, but Remus was… Remus, and nothing but his opinion could matter, right?

Sirius sighed. Remus was the reason he had learned to love the quiet, the soft moments when the world faded away. He had a way of making Sirius relax and find peace within himself when he was on the verge of breaking down. So, yes, Sirius cared a great deal for Remus. Maybe he liked Remus just a little bit more than he should. He had thought a lot about it lately, and something about it made him happy, but also scared. What if Remus didn’t like him as much? What then? They were friends, even though the word sounded strange in Sirius’ mouth, so Remus must like him to some degree. But was that enough? Sirius doubted it. When it came to Remus, it was never enough for Sirius; he wanted it all.