it’s for the better
Sirius Black fucking hates Heathrow airport. Sure, it’s basically where he met Remus, and where they bonded, and, you know, like, basically the reason Sirius is happy right now, but, whatever — and he loves Remus, but, the actual airport? No, not so much.
It’s loud, and gross, and loud, and gross, and loud, and– well, yeah, you get the point, which is, he fucking hates it. But he stays here, for Remus.
Of course he does. He met Remus a few weeks ago, they said I love you (rather frantically, multiple times, one might add), and now they’ve decided that they’re moving in together.
What did Shakespeare say? These violent delights have violent ends – that must have been it. Well, in their case, while the delight is large and loud and, well, yeah, frankly, quite joyous – no, their relationship isn’t ending anyfuckingtime soon. He clings onto Remus’ hand as they walk through the airport, preparing to go through security, and glances over at him.
“Hi,” Sirius smiles.
“Hi!” Remus grins, his face brightening. “I’m excited for Paris! The food, the actual city – like, the Eiffel Tower? Jesus Christ, that’s impressive – anyway, the music –”
“The music?” Sirius laughs. “We’ll be playing that.”
“Oh. That’s a good point. Er, well, the language is pretty fascinating too, honestly.”
“The language? Is it, perhaps, a coincidence, that I am also fluent in French, and you just so happen to find it– what’d you say? Fascinating?”
“You are cruel to me. Stop that. Since you’re so interested, it, er, yeah , actually, is a coincidence. I took French in secondary school – then dropped it in uni, but I remember liking it. I just… don’t remember the actual language.”
“Oh, you’re saying I’ll have to do the talking in Paris?”
“No. No, I am, not in fact saying that. I’d never. I did buy a French dictionary, technically–”
“That was never part of the arrangement,” Sirius teases, laughing at his own joke. “Since when have you bought me?”
“Shut up. It’s like, it’s right here. I swear to god.”
“No, I believe you!” Sirius laughs, shaking his head. “Oh. Oh, you’re actually taking it out. Okay, that’s –”
“See?!”
There, in Remus’ hands, is a small French pocket dictionary. Sirius can’t help it, he just laughs. Again.
“What?!”
“Remus, love, you could have just asked me to do the talking, if you wanted. I’m willing to, like…do that.”
“Oh.”
“Put your little dictionary away, babe. I’ll talk for you.”
“Okay,” Remus murmurs weakly, apparently very enticed by this idea. Remus does not know that Sirius is also fluent in Italian, and can speak Greek, but after more than a mildly complicated conversion, he’ll tell whoever he’s talking to that he can’t understand anymore – since, in all honesty, he doesn’t really like the language, and he’s tired himself out. Give the man a break.
They imagine Remus will have a delightful time learning those facts.
He’s pretty sure they’ll go to Milan, and Rome – but he’s not sure when, since McGonagall decided that the schedule was a need-to-know basis only – and apparently, they weren’t need-to-know. Really, the fucking artists, they don’t need to know? Fine. Sirius is fine.
Regulus and James, on the other hand – their system is already in place. Supposedly, when they were in London, they made an agreement that Regulus would do the talking in Francophone countries, and James would do the talking in Spanish-speaking countries, and it was very easy for them, which mildly enrages Sirius. Apparently, the system works very well – especially since, according to James, Regulus left a sticky note on his computer that said how do i get james to speak more spanish , which James had laughed at for a good minute – and when Regulus returned home that day, he spoke in Spanish only, for about an hour.
Since then, Regulus has put it on his list of ‘least miserable days ever,’ which James is honored to be on. The only other days on there are when he won an award and Sirius didn’t , and when he emancipated himself at eighteen. Two really good days, in his mind, so, of course, that one had to be added to the list.
No one knows about that list, other than him – and he doesn’t intend to tell James that he likes it when he speaks in Spanish anytime soon; absolutely not.
Sure, Regulus may have melted into a little puddle and simply nodded weakly, when James spoke to him in Spanish, his low voice speaking softly to him, with the rolled r’s… It was a coincidence, maybe he was high! Maybe it was just a really big coincidence. Regulus is fine. Everything is fine.
He made the mistake of disclosing that to Evan and Barty, at one point, and now, just to fuck with him, they speak in terrible Spanish around him, teasing him. Regulus tells them, “I’ll remember you in therapy,” every time. He really does remember them in therapy, but, maybe it’s in a better light than that. He’ll never tell them that, though, since that’s not happening – he has a reputation of having a heart of stone, and maybe it should be kept that way.
The four of them walk into the security line together, and somehow, Regulus and Sirius end up next to each other, while James and Remus are stranded behind them by four random strangers.
Sirius immediately makes a new group chat – even though they have like, five, already – and Regulus groans.
“You can’t go without talking to us, for like, twenty minutes?”
“Reggie! Look at this line, Jesus Christ! Does it look like a twenty-minute line? No. No, it does not.” Regulus looks down the line, craning his neck, and then groans again, this time more pained. Sirius, is, indeed, correct. The line is long – they’ve had to add the extra space in the security area, since, apparently, there’s some sort of hold-up near the X-Ray machines.
“Damn it, Sirius, why are you right?”
“It’s a gift, dear brother,” Sirius smiles, sending a text to the new group chat.
“Is it?” Regulus cringes, pulling his phone out.
“Mm.”
19:04
sirius: right well this sucks
james: agree!!
james: what if i tell the people in front of us that i am going to die if they don’t let us stand with you
A minute passes.
james: remus told me i shouldn’t do that
remus: i did do that
sirius: remus i love you but it wasn’t a bad idea
regulus: stop it right now
sirius: no
regulus: shut up. anyway.
regulus: it was the definition of bad idea
regulus: like actually
james: you wound me love
regulus: x
Sirius looks up for a second, fussing with his hair, only to see Regulus blushing, and texting not the group chat – someone that appears to be James – which, rude – but – how interesting? Regulus, blushing? Because of James? Oh, this will be fun.
“Are you texting James?” Sirius hisses, butting his head dangerously close to Regulus’ eye.
“What the fuck? No!” Regulus’ face goes white, as he immediately turns his phone off, blinking very fast.
“You can say you’re texting James! I know you’re like, a thing! I’m completely supportive,” Sirius nods. “Just like you are about Remus and I.”
“I never said that,” Regulus rolls his eyes. “Personally, I think you’re rather gross together.”
“Like you and James aren’t?”
“We’re normal!” Regulus huffs, throwing his hands out. “We’re perfectly not-gross.”
“Oh, are you? That’s obviously how I felt when I found out you were together.”
“That was a one-time thing,” Regulus shakes his head, pointing at Sirius. “I’ve caught you trying to find your tonsils with his tongue loads of times!”
“Did you just – the – tonsils with my tongue, did you just come up with that?” Sirius mutters, apparently very intrigued.
“No,” Regulus scoffs, scrunching his face up. “Read it in a book somewhere.”
“Oh. Which–which book?”
“I don’t fucking know! It was a book, that’s all I remember! Probably had some characters that reminded me of us, in all honesty, except you were way cooler, since that’s always possible.”
“I highly doubt that, Reg–”
“I don’t ,” Regulus snorts, finding himself hilarious, as he opens his phone, only to text James. Again.
What a fucking liar , Sirius thinks to themself, highly amused.
On the plane, Remus sits himself next to Sirius, who makes a delighted sort of hum when he does so. Remus laughs, putting his bag on the floor beneath his seat, as the safety instructions come on over the announcement system, while simultaneously playing on the small TVs in front of both of them. Sirius doesn't know which one to look at, apparently -- turning his gaze between the both of them back and forth, very quickly.
"This is technically where we met," says Remus, leaning over the armrest, his head close to Sirius' ear.
"That it is," Sirius grins. "You've made me into quite the sap, you know. Asking to move in with you, saying I love you after we’ve only been together for a little whi–”
“Shut the fuck up! I’m trying to fucking sleep!” Regulus shouts from the aisle behind them, now groaning to James, who only laughs, and then mumbles something about how he looks cute all cuddled up with him, and Regulus responds by mumbling something incoherent.
“What’d you say, Reg, love?” James asks as he covers himself in a blanket that he’s mysteriously pulled out of thin air, to which Regulus splutters, hiding even more within the blanket, until he manages to say,
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
James hums approvingly, adjusting his glasses as he pulls out a book from his bag.
“No,” Regulus says, very casually.
“No?” James repeats, hesitantly.
“ No , use your free hand to, like, scratch my head, or something. Reading is for the weak.”
“You love reading,” James murmurs weakly, but does put his book back in his little bag.
“Okay. Well – That’s – that’s not important,” Regulus smiles to himself as James gives in, scratching at his head as they sit closer together. They sit in silence like that for a minute, listening to Remus and Sirius recount their favorite moments with each other from the past weeks, which Regulus has to stop himself from vomiting – and James just smiles, delighted that his friends are happy with each other. They eventually move onto a topic of conversation, involving foreign languages, at which point Regulus is half asleep. James laughs at something Sirius says – Regulus knows it’s Sirius, since his voice is so loud, relentless – and he thinks the sentence is about speaking French in Paris - and, at this point, James sighs with glee, looking aat Regulus dreamily.
“Hi,” Regulus mumbles, sitting up a little as he wraps the blanket around his head.
“Hi, love. We sorted this out, haven’t we? You’re doing the talking in France?”
“I am,” Regulus nods. “Much to your enjoyment,” he smirks, laughing a little at James.
“I’ve only heard you speak French once, you know,” James muses. “Oh. No, twice. I lied.”
“Mm, well, we all know how the first time went.”
Regulus snorts as he remembers the first time he’d called Sirius in front of James, and, at one point, he must have resorted to French, at not even known it, since the next second, James was following him around his apartment like a lost dog.
“Reg,” he’d said, later that evening as they were cooking dinner, attempting to come across as calm, his voice breaking. “On the phone with your brother, today, that was – French, yeah?”
“Yes,” Regulus had said, uncertainly, reaching for the salt from the kitchen cabinet, that, of course, he couldn’t reach, “It was French. Haven’t I told you I’m fluent? Both Sirius and I are.”
“That was not shared with me,” James whispered. “I am… I am so glad to know that. Oh my god.”
Regulus stared back at him, mildly confused.
“And… why is that?”
James had gone bright red, laughing nervously to himself as he ran a hand through his hair, placing the other one on his hip, attempting to look casual. It didn’t work.
“It’s.. just…” James paused, looking like he’s about to spontaneously combust. “It’s important, you know?” He then grabbed the salt for Regulus, placing it down a little roughly, as he smiled to himself, still bright red.
Oh.
“Oh,” Regulus laughed. “James Fleamont Potter–”
“--How d’you know my middle name –”
“--Not important. That’s what this is all about? You–you were flustered by that? That’s – oh, that’s – frankly, that’s adorable. I lo–” Regulus stopped himself, snapping his mouth shut. “I love that,” he finished, now blushing a little himself.
He kind of hates that James makes him have a heart. (He secretly loves it, and he’ll never admit that. To James, maybe, but…anyone else? Absolutely not.)
“Oh, Reg! Baby,” James jolts a little, bringing him back to where they are – the plane, apparenly near Paris, as he supposedly realizes something. “Have we – have we been together two months, now? Or, well, almost?” he smiles, still stroking at Regulus’ hair, then murmurs something Regulus can’t hear. It sounds nice, whatever it is.
“Oh,” Regulus says, his eyebrows raised as he sits up in the seat next to James. “I think so,” he pauses. “It’s been a good two months,” he smiles, kissing James quickly.
“It has! I think we’ll be there soon,” James sighs, cracking his neck as he stretches to look out the window, pursing his lips. “I’ve never been to Paris.”
“Never?”
“Nope!”
“I’ll have to show you around,” Regulus smiles to himself, resting his head on James’ shoulder.
“Oh, good! Thanks, Reg.” He inhales quickly, and then says, “Regulus, I think I’m falling in love with you a little more every day.”
Regulus stops breathing. His lungs kind of – they constrict, a little. All of a sudden, they’re back in that damned grocery store that Sirius hated so fucking much, watching James sing and dance, pointing at him, asking, Do you love me ?
Lifting his head off of James’ shoulder, he stares him straight in the face.
There he is, right in the bread aisle, prancing around. Do you love menow that I can dance?
Regulus forgets that’s not what James has asked, or, rather, said, right now, and, without thinking, he blurts out,
“Yes.”
James raises an eyebrow, looking a little confused.
“Yes,” he repeats very slowly, his lips barely even closing around the word. “Reg, baby, I don’t–”
Regulus doesn’t know how to respond, so he kisses James instead, grabbing onto his hair as he presses the two of them together. James mumbles something into his lips, smiling, laughing, in his usual James way, as Regulus murmurs over and over,
“I love you, I love you, I love you…”
Remus turns around, scaring the shit out of Sirius as he unbuckles his seatbelt, now on his knees on his seat, staring at Regulus and James as he grabs the back of the seat.
“Oh, James, did you tell him?!” Remus laughs, grinning.
“Tell him what ,” Sirius laughs, and then turns around, and immediately shrieks. “ Oh ! No! No , I did not want to see that, Remus!”
A flight attendant walks over to their seats, frowning.
“Monsieur?” She has a thick French accent, and when she tries to tell Remus to, for lack of a better term, sit the fuck down , she doesn’t really know how to phrase it. Automatically, Sirius’ French skills kick in, and he smiles at her.
“Bonjour,” he waves at her. “Comment allez-vous? Tellement désolé pour lui - il est heureux pour mon frère et mon meilleur ami, ils ont apparemment eu beaucoup d’avancement - je ne sais pas vraiment.”
“C’est bon,” the woman smiles, blushing, now, as Sirius winks at her, waving sweetly. Remus turns around slowly, now staring at Sirius as he sinks back down in his seat.
“Love,” Remus swallows, then scrubs a hand over his face. “That was – that was French, wasn’t it?”
“No,” Sirius grins, pulling out his phone as he laughs to himself. Remus’ eyes remain on him, as he mutters quietly, what ? What language.. It sounds like French , until ten minutes later, when Remus gasps,
“You’re fucking with me! Jesus Christ, you little shit , is this what you’re gonna do for the next month?” he laughs, poking at Sirius’ arm, then covering his face. “Oh, that was really embarassing. Oh my god.”
“Oh, no,” Sirius laughs. “That was just for today. Anyway, love, put your seatbelt on. I’ll do it again if the flight attendant comes over. This time, I’ll shit-talk you.”
“You wouldn’t,” Remus snorts, rolling his eyes. (He does, actually, put his seatbelt on. Whatever.)
Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius can see the flight attendant still staring at him, smiling to herself.
French works. Every time.
“Is she looking at you?” Remus hisses, leaning in closer to Sirius. “What–what’s she want?”
“Nothing,” Sirius giggles, apparently now texting Regulus.
20:32
sirius: wait reggie
sirius: reggie what happened
sirius: why were you and james making out in my general vicinity
regulus: ???
sirius: answer the question please <3
regulus: it’s exactly what you said to whoever that was that told remus to sit down
regulus: quite the advancement
sirius: wait.
sirius: WAIT
sirius: YOU DIDNT
sirius: reggie. reggie reggie reggie darling precious reggie i want to scoop you up and hug you i love you and OH MY GOD i am so proud my little baby brother!!!!1
regulus: i’m like a year younger than you
sirius: do i look like i care
regulus: idk i can’t see you.
Sirius huffs, sending Regulus only a heart in response, and then sends James approximately a million celebration/congratulations texts.
He pulls out his headphones, offering one to Remus, who happily takes it as Sirius opens Spotify.
He’s begun to make a Paris playlist – and, of course, Remus may be having some effect on the song selection, as Remus is a pretty large thing in his life. He intends to keep Remus as a pretty large thing, preferably forever.
It’s no surprise when Sirius plays Waiting Room by Phoebe Bridgers first, smiling to himself. Remus looks over, beaming.
“Waiting Room?” he mouths, then kisses Sirius’ cheek.
“Of course,” Sirius smiles.
They’ve never played this song around Remus, before, but, after he told them that he cried at his first Phoebe Bridgers concert, he had a feeling Remus’d like this song.
He does, evidently, lip-syncing to the words, humming softly every now and then.
It’s strange – the song’s about longing for someone you can’t have, but you really fucking want (so, of course, it was played the day after Remus and Sirius met on repeat, as Sirius quietly muttered to himself that he needed Remus. James would say it was not-so quiet, and it was audible every hour of every day.) – and they already have each other. Sirius knows that. He’s sitting next to Remus right now. It’s stupid, and cheesy, and Sirius would kick himself if he could, for having this thought – but maybe it’s for the better that they’re together, instead of apart.
If you were a teacher, I would fail your class
Take it over and over ‘til you noticed me
If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor
I would sit there with my first-aid kit and bleed
I wanna be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down
I wanna be the broken song that feeds your misery
And I can wish all that I want, but it won’t bring us together
Plus, I know whatever happens to me, I know it’s for the better
As Phoebe repeats, Know it’s for the better thirty-six times, Sirius is happier than he’s been in a long, long time.
He doesn’t even realize the flight attendant coming over again, smiling, and handing him a small slip of paper with her phone number on it. “Call me,” she says, winking.
Remus takes the slip of paper, and directly four minutes and thirty-five minutes into the song, Remus grabs Sirius’ face, also directly in front of the flight attendant, and kisses him, hands in his hair, and all. This man has no shame.
She walks away. She must have gotten the point.
Sirius, of course, didn’t even fucking see the whole interaction, so, he’s mildly confused when Remus finally backs away, laughing quietly.
“Remus, love,” Sirius murmurs weakly. “What… what was that for ? Were you so moved by Phoebe Bridgers?”
“Sure,” Remus shrugs. “We can go with that,” he rolls his eyes, laughing, as the captain comes hey’ll be landing sooner, telling the plane that they’ll be landing soon, and to prepare for their departure. Probably. It’s in French. Remus doesn’t understand French. Sue him.
The four of them step off the plane, James and Regulus attached at the hip, literally unable to keep their hands off each other, kissing any chance they get, or just holding hands every single second, murmuring that they love the other whenever they can. Sirius groans, hiding his head in Remus’ shoulder, muttering about how he doesn’t want to see his little brother snogging his best mate, but you’re here, Remus, love, so, that’s fine..
Remus takes what he can get. He really does love him, doesn’t he?
They wait at baggage claim for Sirius’ industrial strength (and size) suitcase, Regulus’ equally obnoxiously large one, Remus’ old, battered tan-colored bag, and James’ strangely small red suitcase.
A security guard nearby raises an eyebrow at the four of them as they pass by, arms wrapped around whoever they’re walking with (technically, whoever they love…), to which Sirius only raises an eyebrow right back, scoffing.
“If he’s got a fucking problem, he can say it,” they groan, rolling their eyes.
“Va te faire foutre,” Regulus calls, passing by them, kissing James again. James swoons, losing his footing a little as they reach the doors to the exit, Regulus and Sirius laughing to themselves.
“I don’t know what you said,” James mutters.
“I told him to have a nice evening.” Regulus sighs, checking his nail polish.
“Do you know what he said?” Remus asks, laughing softly.
“Yeah,” Sirius looks up, still holding Remus’ hand around their shoulder.
“Do I want to know what Regulus said?”
“If you hate authority figures, like, professors, say, then, yes.”
“I was meant to be a professor before I went professional with cello,” Remus chokes, looking worried.
“Yes, and I’m sure you were quite the professor! But aren’t we all so glad you’ve chosen this profession?” Sirius snickers, patting Remus’ shoulder, before walking off to hail a taxi.
“Taxi!” he calls, and a car swerves to the curb, stopping directly in front of Sirius. The driver rolls the window down, then shrieks delightedly, and emerges from the vehicle.
Regulus watches, very confused as James and Sirius scream excitedly, running towards whoever the fuck this is. James has dropped his bag, as has Sirius, apparently uncaring, since this man has proven more important than all their worldly belongings. Remus doesn’t know what the hell is going on.
“Oi! Reggie, Remus, love! Come on!” Sirius calls to the two of them, standing in silence in the dark Paris evening, looking mildly confused.
They pile into the taxi, somehow fitting all their bags, before Sirius tells the driver where they’re meant to go, squinting at his phone in the dim light of the car.
“Thanks, mate,” he smiles, sitting back next to Remus. Regulus would chalk his performance of joy up to his normal extrovertedness, but something seems off. He feels so validated the minute Sirius says that it’s–
“-- so good to see you! How long has it been? Two years? God, we can’t let that happen again.”
James smiles, nodding along. “So glad I get a break from just these wankers..you’ve saved me, Pete!”
Peter Pettigrew, in all his glory, turns around in the driver’s seat, winking as he flashes a bright smile.
“James, Sirius! My old friends! Good to see you, lads,” he sighs, before looking at them in the rearview mirror. “Oh! Is this – Regulus! Regulus Black, my god. Never thought the day would come when I would meet you.”
“What the fuck,” he mutters under his breath, before glancing up into the mirror, making eye contact with Peter. “Pleasure,” he grimaces, then hisses to James: “Who is this, and why does he know my name?”
James laughs. “Sirius hasn’t ever brought up Pete?”
“No?” Regulus whispers back, still very confused. “He’s only brought up the friend group he had at the stupid boarding school he went to, Hogwag, or whatever–”
“--Hogwarts, love–”
“--That’s what I said, and, anyway, he brought up you, him, and one other bloke, who was blond, small, and —” Regulus cuts himself off. “ Oh . Hello, Peter.”
James grins, smiling as he glances back and forth between the two of them. “Oh, you’re going to get along marvelously.”
“Are we now?” Peter snorts, beginning to drive away from the airport. “I look forward to it, then, dear Regulus.”
Regulus laughs to himself, pulling out his phone. “If you think Sirius is as ridiculous as I think he is, then I don’t doubt what you’ve said.”
“Ah, you’ve got me there, Regulus! He can be rather mad, can’t he? We love him dearly, still. Whether that be unhealthy, or not,” Peter mutters the last part, snickering. Regulus looks over at Sirius quickly, then back to Instagram.
He does love Sirius, even after their past. He finds him ridiculous, but he never would have left his childhood home if Sirius hadn’t, three years before him. He’s honestly overjoyed that they have a relationship now, and that they get along, better than they used to – he knows that they curse each other out half the time, or get petty over minor things, but Regulus also knows that if either of them really did need each other, they’d text the other fast as fuck, looking for support, counting on the other. They do have a good relationship now, able to communicate, only visiting their therapist once a week now – taking a break for the tour, of course, since Regulus refuses to do virtual sessions, and Sirius sided with Regulus, in a strange moment of loyalty – they’re happy, now, feeling better with themselves, no longer trapped inside their parent’s home.
“Pete,” Sirius calls, suddenly. “What the hell are you doing being a taxi driver in Paris?”
“Side job,” he answers quickly, shrugging. “Don’t speak a word of French, me, but, ah… I get by.” Remus stares at Sirius in shock. Who the fuck is this? He can’t be that strange if Sirius and James are friends with him – but – being a cab driver in Paris , where French is spoken, and he knows none –
“I’ve picked some French up, actually,” he sighs. “Like, er, j’allez de musee, oui– but that’s just a bit.”
Regulus laughs so hard he can’t breathe, having to physically restrain himself by hiding in the crook of James’ neck, not wanting Peter to hear him. Sirius croaks a somewhat approving noise, and then whispers something to Remus.
“That didn’t sound like when you did it, love,” Remus whispers, attempting to stifle his laughter.
“It was wrong ,” Sirius hisses. He then leans over, poking Regulus. “Reggie,” he whispers. “Regarde-moi.” Regulus perks up, looking at Sirius, as he’s asked. He begins to speak in very quick French, and Regulus responds, almost as fast, as Peter raises his eyebrows, humming.
“That’s Italian, innit?”
“Well done, Pete, yeah,” Sirius quickly says, before going right back to French.
James laughs, looking over at Remus.
22:03
james: please tell me i’m not the only one that doesn’t know what they’re saying
remus: of course i fucking know welsh and not french
james: LMAOOO????
james: why welsh. where do they even teach that
remus: i grew up in wales?
james: oh. right . sorry mate
remus: you’re all good
james: y’know any other languages? that you can use against sirius and reg? like spanish? preferably spanish? say yes? please? por favor?
remus: gonna pretend i know what por favor means. i speak some arabic
remus: haven’t in a while
james: (1 please tell me you’re joking about not knowing what por favor means
remus: wasn’t joking xoxo
james: (2 ok that’s. surprisingly cool actually how did i not know that
remus: i’ve told you like four times
james: no
remus: yes
james: fine
james: anyway. learn spanish
remus: learn arabic??
James snorts, turning his phone off as the car eventually pulls into the hotel parking lot, as Sirius cheers, hugging Peter from behind as they scramble out of the cab, skipping to grab their and Remus’ bags.
“Bye, Pete! Thanks!”
“Bye, Sirius!”
Remus, James, and Regulus say their goodbyes – Remus’ head is still spinning as he walks away, as he literally has no idea what just happened.
“Love,” he eventually murmurs, catching up to Sirius. “Oh, I can take my bag, I’m sorry–”
“--Babe, I’ve got it for a reason, you’re fine–”
“--Okay,” Remus sighs. “Anyway–what’d you say to Reg? In the cab?”
He turns around, to see Regulus and James attempting to hold hands and hold each other’s wasis at the same time, which goes interestingly. What an advancement.
“Oh. Nothing, really. Told him I was happy for him, since now, they love each other,” Sirius smiles. “That I’d kill James if he broke Reggie’s heart,” he adds. “That I loved him, which was quite sappy of me,” he pauses. “I think he appreciated it. Oh, then I told him, that if he ever leaves James, he’ll regret it – not because I’d do something, or he would, of course not – but because I told him I think that they’re meant for each other, no matter how many times I’ve almost vomited in their presence.”
“Sirius Black, you really do have a heart,” Remus teases, playfully shoving at his arm. “That’s…actually rather nice of you.”
“I know!” Sirius smiles, delighted. “Have I told you I loved you, recently?” they look up, earnest.
“Yes,” Remus nods, staring them straight in the face. Sirius looks mildly disappointed.
“Oh. Well, I love you. Again. Oh, and, if we ever break up, promise me that we’ll get back together?”
“Sirius,” Remus laughs. “Sometimes I don’t know I’m a little too mad about you, and then you say shit like that – I don’t worry anymore. We’re never breaking up,” he snorts, finding the whole affair rather amusing.
“Brilliant,” Sirius drawls, smiling to himself as he reaches out for Remus’ hand, and simultaneously pulls a lollipop out of his bag.
“How long have you had that in there?”
“It’s irrelevant,” Sirius sighs, putting it in his mouth. “2020, or so.”
“You’re insane. I love you.”
They eventually bid Regulus and James goodnight, who are barely able to keep their hands off of each other on the elevator, and in the hallway, and in their hotel room, until Regulus stops James, panting, and says –
“Wait, wait, Ja—James. Did you.. tonight, I just, I need to know, did you mean what you said?”
“Claro que si, Regulus,” James says, still kissing Regulus’ neck. “Baby, oh, god, me estoy enamorando de ti más cada día.”
“That was … that was Spanish, you’ve just said that in Spanish to me.”
“I have,” James nods.
“Do it again,” Regulus blurts, unable to stop himself.
“Te quiero, te quiero,” James chants, laughing softly, as Regulus goes an even deeper shade of red, absolutely unable to hide his smile. “I’m so happy we’re in Paris, baby,” James grins, finally pulling away to look at Regulus.
“Why? Because of the tour?”
“Oh. Well, I mean, sure, but… Not particularly. Mostly because I get to hear you speak French every fuckin ’ day.”
“Oh. I could take that back, you kn—”
“—No,” James laughs. “You won’t , because you love me.”
“Oh, I hate that you’re right,” he groans, letting his head fall on James’ shoulder.
“You always do. Love you.”
“I love you.”
00:09
sirius: reggie when did you know you loved him
regulus: i am not telling you that.
sirius: wHYYYYY
regulus: go the fuck to sleep
regulus: x
sirius: x