cold feet

As Regulus stands on the porch of James’s house, the feeling so familiar yet entirely strange and new at the same time, he concludes that it’s definitely too late to change his answer now. 

He doesn’t know why it’s so intimidating. He’s been here plenty of times by now, and it’s never gone poorly. But of course, there weren’t a ton of James’s other friends in the house with them the last few times Regulus has come over. There wasn’t a big social gathering taking place with people Regulus doesn’t know, therefore there was no reason for him to worry. It’s nearly as terrifying as the first time James invited him over—when the thought of how James might perceive him, away from the rink and the cold, made him feel sick with anxiety. He’s not so concerned over everyone else; but he is concerned about what James might think if he realizes that Regulus actually has no clue how to talk to anyone he hasn’t known for years. 

He shouldn’t have agreed to thinking about this. From the moment James had invited him yesterday, Regulus should’ve known that not giving a definite no meant that he was going to show up. He should know himself better by now, should know that turning James down has become an incredibly difficult feat. He’s not sure what that means. He doesn’t want to find out.

But he’s here now, and getting here was no easy feat. He’s told his mother that he’s at Barty’s place, something that she almost refused to let him do at first. “After the way you skated yesterday?” she’d asked. “You’re lucky that I’m not making you skate more.” She’d eventually seceded when he’d told her that they intended to do research on who their opponents would be at sectionals, on what they’d be up against—after all, there are only a couple of spots for each discipline and level at sectionals, and the spots all depend on outscoring your competitors. She’d agreed that it was a good idea, and let him leave. He’d gone to Barty’s house first, shut his location off, and then at last made his way over here. It’s nearly six PM now, which is about an hour after James had texted him the gathering would start, but he’s choosing to give himself credit for even showing up. It’s not exactly easy to do when one’s mother is a total control freak who has to have everything her way, or not at all. He’s put in so much effort just to be here; he can’t waste it.

Yet as he eyes the doorbell in front of him, his hands stay in his pockets—and they seemingly refuse to come out. All it takes is one tap of the button, one simple gesture, and he can get this over with. But he can’t move. He’s suddenly overthinking everything, down to his outfit choice. Instead of his usual athletic jacket and joggers, he’s opted for a green sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, which are probably the only somewhat nice pieces of clothing he owns. It doesn’t feel at all like him. He’s missing the comfort of sweatpants, the somehow-grounding tightness of his jacket, and he feels all too vulnerable despite the looseness of his clothes. None of this feels right, and it only serves to worsen his nerves.

He fumbles with the cuffs on his sweatshirt as he breathes, the material soft and strange on his fingertips. And for some reason, that sensation is what causes him to question his sudden cowardice. You’ve skated on the national stage before, he thinks, and this is what’s scaring the everloving shit out of you? 

He stops rubbing his thumbs against the material as the realization that he can’t answer that question sinks in. It’s simply too ridiculous, and an entirely true statement. Somehow, skating at the novice level last season was less terrifying than going into a friend’s house and meeting some of his teammates. It shouldn’t be. But apparently, this is where Regulus is at right now.

He takes a moment to think back to sectionals the previous year, how scared shitless he really was. He remembers standing at the boards, him on the ice and Lucius staring at him intently off the ice. He remembers Lucius telling him to take a few laps around the rink, to practice the takeoff for his triple flip, to keep his legs moving as the judges scored the components of the competitor before him.

Although he attempted to do as Lucius said, taking several quick laps around the ice, he couldn’t help but freeze completely as the score of his competitor came in. 97.24. An entire two points above Regulus’s personal best, which meant that Regulus needed to skate his ass off in order to have any hope of a medal. 

Regulus remembers closing his eyes as the announcer prepared to present him, telling himself to get over himself already and just do the best he can.

For some reason, those words ring in his mind now. Get over yourself, he repeats, do the best you can. So what if James’s teammates don’t like him? James does. That’s enough.

At last, Regulus pulls his hand out of his pocket and rings the doorbell. Then, he listens to the chime, and waits.

Eventually, the door opens. And when the door opens, Regulus is surprised when he isn’t greeted with a familiar head of dark brown, wavy hair.

Instead, he sees long, fiery red.

❅ ❅ ❅

“I’ll get it!” Lily yells as the doorbell rings, hopping up from her spot on the rug. Currently, she and most of James’s teammates are huddled around the television, watching as Sirius takes on a team from a Canadian city she’s never heard of. And seeing as James is in the kitchen, already going for his second round of food, she figures there’s no harm in being the one to answer the door. She honestly isn’t sure who’s even left to show up at this point—the Prewett twins have told James they couldn’t make it, and mostly everyone else is here. They even managed to get that little freshman kid to show up, and he honestly looks like he might shit his pants at any given moment. Lily has debated just telling him that this isn’t some sort of fraternity initiation, and that he can relax his shoulders, but she doesn’t want to freak him out even more. 

As she racks her brain on who else it could be, James attempts to call out something from the kitchen. But considering the fact that his mouth is full of food—Jesus, that boy can eat—it all sounds completely muffled to her. She thinks he’s trying to say “Lily, wait,” but it comes out totally muted. She could roll her eyes—he couldn’t at least wait to swallow his food before speaking? By this point, she’s already at the door, so she figures it’ll just be easier to open it herself. She can’t see why it’s such a big deal.

As she twists and then pulls on the doorknob, looking up to see who is joining them, she quickly realizes the reason.

Because she definitely is not expecting to be looking right at Regulus Black, who seems even more panicked than that poor freshman as he bounces back and forth on his heels.

Seriously, James? she thinks to herself. What the fuck?  

No, actually, when did this development happen. The last she heard of Regulus, he still despised James’s guts, and James was losing his mind trying to tolerate him. That was… a month and a half ago or so, she thinks. She absolutely doesn’t see what could have changed in that short period of time, especially since Regulus seemed so driven to hate James forever.

She supposes, however, that she is just going to have to accept whatever this is. Because regardless of whether or not Regulus still hates him, he is here now, and the longer Lily lingers on it the less it is going to make sense. So she forces herself to speak, attempting to suppress the shock in her voice. “Oh, hey, Regulus,” she says, telling herself this is not weird at all. 

Regulus nods in return, and he looks only slightly less uncomfortable than she does. There’s a flash of recognition across his face, but she doubts that he knows her as anyone more than the girl who sharpens his skates at the rink. “Hey,” he responds after a second. Then, it’s silent.

“Well, do you wanna come in?” she asks, standing to the side of the door and gesturing towards the living room.

"Yeah, thanks,” he says, taking a step inside. Once he is fully through the door, he pauses as he looks over Lily, and eventually, the question she knew was coming spills out. “I’m so sorry, you sharpen my skates in the pro shop literally all the time and I don’t—“

"Lily,” she answers before he can even finish his statement, offering a smile. 

“Okay,” he nods, perhaps a little too eagerly. “Lily. Got it.”

With the awkward air still lingering between them, Lily closes the door, and they begin to make their way into the house.

"So,” Regulus asks as the two walk, “you skate too, right?”

"I do,” Lily says, and she recalls all of the times she and him have shared the ice on freestyle sessions together. “I’ve seen you around.” She doesn’t add that she deliberately tries to avoid the sessions that he skates due to his insufferable mother, who will take the slightest screwup as a golden opportunity to go haywire on him and everyone there. There's no reason to. It's not his fault.

"I thought so,” Regulus responds. “How’s your season been so far?”

Lily attempts not to grimace. “It’s been rough,” she says, and though she doesn’t want to elaborate she knows she will have to. “I skate intermediate, and I qualified for sectionals, but just barely. It was embarrassing. The girl who came in fifth behind me lost by less than a point.”

"I don’t see how qualifying for sectionals is rough,” Regulus says nearly immediately. “How is that embarrassing?”

"Well, when you’re sixteen years old and still competing intermediate because you started skating when you were eleven, it’s pretty humiliating to get demolished by twelve year olds,” Lily answers with contempt. Because she only started skating five years ago, she has a lot of catching up to do. Many of her friends at the rink are already competing in juniors, and she hasn’t even passed her novice skating skills test. Most of the time, she tries to not let it get to her—after all, she’s already gotten this far. She knows her capabilities. But it’s still frustrating when the cards are all laid out in front of her, and none of them are in her favor. 

“You only started skating when you were eleven?” Regulus suddenly asks, the shock in his voice imminent. “And you’re already in intermediate?”

"Don’t give me that, I’m sure you were in intermediate by the time you were ten,” Lily replies, an edge to her voice that she isn’t intentionally bringing out. 

“Yeah, but that’s still fucking insane,” Regulus says. “It took me seven years of skating to get to intermediate. You did it in five. Lily, that’s damn impressive.”

”Not impressive enough to the judges, apparently,” Lily replies, which is yet another thing that drives her insane. She’s doing the exact same thing out there as the other girls—she can land a triple sal-triple toe combination, she can do her double axel cleanly, and she can spin for days and days. But because she’s older, she loses the cuteness factor that all of the little kids seem to get. It’s infuriating.

”Well, yeah, but judges are judges,” Regulus says. “As long as you skate your best, who the fuck cares?”

Lily takes a moment to think on that and—yeah, she supposes he has a point. She’s repeatedly beating her personal best scores out there, and she knows that she’ll only continue to do better. Maybe the judges don’t see that, but they absolutely suck. 

She never expected to care much about advice from Regulus Black, who seems like he’d have nothing but harsh critiques to offer, but here she is. And she’s been very pleasantly surprised by what he’s offering instead.

“Hey, Reg!” a voice exclaims from the kitchen before she gets a chance to respond to Regulus’s inquiry. When she looks over, she sees him—James Potter, grinning like an absolute idiot as he catches sight of the boy.

Reg. The nickname dances around in her mind. James shortens everybody’s name, something that seems almost obligatory to do if you’re a hockey player. She’s Lils, Peter is Petey, Marlene is Marls, Emmeline is Emmy, Remus—the new kid—is Rem, and even Sirius sometimes gets his name shortened to Siri. She’s not a fan of that last one, but it is what it is. Yet all of those seem different from this. Reg, said deliberately, said with care. Like it matters.

Lily knows her place. She takes a step back as Regulus steps forward, holding up a hand and offering James a quick little wave. “Hi, James.” Almost immediately, his voice is different. It’s ten times smaller, more timid. Like he’s nervous. Lily wonders what he could possibly be terrified of, considering just how cruel he’s been to James before. He suddenly doesn’t seem so tough now.

James practically sprints the last few steps to meet Regulus, and for a moment, his arms seem to twitch out of place. Like he wanted to reach out and hug him tightly, then decided against it at the last second. He settles instead for putting a hand on Regulus’s shoulder, though Lily notes the hesitation with which he does it. His eyes scan over Regulus up and down, something in them glistening that Lily can’t really place. “You look different,” James says, the statement lighthearted in nature but feeling like it contains far more.

“You mean, I’m not in all black, or wearing sweatpants?” Regulus says with a raised eyebrow, which forces a laugh out of James. It sounds far more nervous than it should. She realizes in this moment that James is fucking terrified, and doing little to conceal it.

But after a second, he seems to find his composure again, seems to find the playful nature that makes James James. “No, I meant you’re way shorter without the skates,” he says, immediately causing Regulus’s jaw to drop.

”You’ve seen me without them before!” he quickly defends, though James is already cackling at his own quip.

"Yeah, but it still never fails to surprise me,” James replies. “Like, I always forget, then I see you, and I go, ‘Damn, he’s short,’” he continues, and it doesn’t even take one moment for Regulus to smack him on the arm. This still doesn’t deter James from laughing, even as Regulus is defending his height to him, yelling things out like “I’m not even that short!”

Once James finally manages to calm down, he looks back over to Regulus. “No, I’m fucking with you,” he says. “You look good.”

Lily doesn’t miss how Regulus’s entire face goes bright red. Before he can even respond, however, James grabs onto his arm and tugs him down the hallway, towards the living room. "Come on, I’ll introduce you to everybody.”

They disappear around the corner moments later, Lily a forgotten thought, and she is left leaning against the wall near the kitchen, attempting to make sense of what the hell just happened. She’s never seen James like that before. She’s never seen him be so gentle, so soft, towards anybody. If he’s not messing with Lily or disastrously flirting with her, then she knows something is seriously wrong. Therefore, is seriously wrong here—it has to be.

She doesn’t know why she thinks of it now, but she’s reminded of all those years ago, when she and James first met at Marlene’s birthday party. Even then, when there was a moment where the two thought that maybe something could have worked out, he hadn’t dared to stop teasing her even for a moment. She’s sure there’s not another soul in this building who’d be let off the hook so easily. But Regulus… he’s just managed to get James to let up in less than a minute. And furthermore, James complimented him? Told him he looked good? It’s immediately clear to Lily that this friendship that Regulus and James have—whenever the hell that developed—is completely different to anything else James possesses in his life. But she can’t articulate it any further than that. She just knows it exists.

As she’s caught in a curious daze, wondering what is happening with her friend right now, she moves her feet before she’s even thinking about it. And it’s not the living room she heads towards—it’s the kitchen. 

Once she arrives, she realizes that she has no idea why she came here. Maybe it’s just the fact that she needs a break from being surrounded by so many hockey obsessed goons on the couch, or maybe it’s the fact that now she’s left feeling out of her skin now that James has pulled the only other figure skater here away from her side. Either way, she’s here now, and she might as well go for a second plate of food now too.

Except as she’s reaching for the paper plates, stacked at the end of the counter, her hand brushes right against someone else’s. She’s quick to flinch away, taking a step back and looking up. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” When she processes who it is, processes the shaggy brown hair and wide eyes ahead of her, she realizes it is the new kid on the team, looking equally as spooked as her.

As she processes his mortified face, her first instinct is to scold herself. Idiot. How could she have been so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t noticed someone else was there?

But Remus is shaking his head too, putting his hands up in the air. “No, that was my fault,” he says. “I wasn’t looking.”

Lily shrugs, noticing how apologetic he seems, and realizing that the two very well might get caught in a never ending chain of sorries. “Let’s just call it even,” she says after a moment. “It was both our faults.”

”But—“

”Both our faults,” she says firmly, looking him in the eye. Then she adds his name. “Remus.”

Finally, eventually, after seeming like he wants to do nothing more than protest it, he lets himself agree. “Okay,” he says. Then, hesitantly, he adds her name. “Lily.”

They both exchange a grin now, an acknowledgement of their shared awkwardness at the situation they’re both currently in. Lily isn’t a fool; she knows why Remus is in here instead of the living room, watching the game with everybody else. It’s the same reason she’s here as well, and there’s no need to dodge around the question when they’re the only two in here.

"Still getting used to the lot of them?” she questions, taking a plate and beginning to grab at the offerings brought by others—she makes sure to take an extra big scoop of the mac and cheese that Peter brought.

Remus fully laughs at this, though he doesn’t deny the statement. “They’re a lot, yeah,” he answers finally, though she doesn’t miss the fact that he does not choose to elaborate further. 

“They are,” she agrees instead, now moving onto the guacamole made by James’s mother. When she glances over at him, she notices that both of his hands are in his pockets, and he hasn’t bothered to grab a plate for food. “You gonna eat?”

Again he shakes his head, quick to turn her down. “I’m good,” he says. “I’m not actually that hungry. I just needed a break.” He says the last sentence quietly, the words rushing out of him like the thought’s been eating him up.

Lily nods her head up and down in understanding, though she can’t deny the fact that her head is swirling with questions about this kid. James has repeatedly dubbed him the “mystery boy”; it’s incredibly easy now to understand why. 

“I get it,” she says earnestly, setting her plate aside for a second. She doesn’t understand this insecurity from him—it completely contradicts everything she’s heard so far.  “They’re your team now, you know. They like you a lot.”

Remus seems indifferent about this, his face immediately scrunching up. “They don’t really know me,” he says after a second. “I just got here.”

"So what? You play well, they get along with you. What’s there to hate?” The statement comes from a genuine place of confusion, of complete bewilderment. She doesn’t understand his refusal to open up, to let anyone see him beyond what he is doing on the ice. 

Remus practically scoffs at this, glancing away as he answers. “Ask my old team,” he says after a second. “They’ll tell you.”

Lily isn’t sure how to respond to that, but the implications are clear. He didn’t come here willingly; he came to this team because he had nowhere else to go, and now he is hesitant to trust again. It’s her turn for her eyes to grow wide. “Oh,” she says simply. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

In response to this Remus lets out a weary sigh, one that tells her that he’s just as tired of holding back as she is of asking. “No, it’s okay,” he says. “I just… I don’t want it to happen again.”

Lily nods as though she’s following, though it’s difficult to pretend she is when she has absolutely no clue what Remus is referring to. “Yeah, I get that,” she says. She pauses and lingers over her next statement, before eventually deciding to proceed. “If you, um, wanted to talk about it more… you can.”

Remus seems like he has no intent on doing so, and it’s immediately clear in the way his demeanor seems to shrink. “Thanks,” he says after a moment, still sounding appreciative nonetheless.

Lily looks him right in the eye as she speaks again, her voice firm. ”I mean it,” she says, to let him know that this will stay between them, that he doesn’t have to feel like he needs to keep up a guard around her. “Really.”

He nods at this, and she sees something in his face shift. She can’t quite pinpoint it, can’t state exactly what it is… but… something. And before she knows it, Remus is speaking again, taking her words to heart.

"They, um. They chased me off of the team, basically,” Remus says, lowering his voice as the confession spills out. “I put pride tape on my stick, back at the beginning of the season, and I really didn’t think it would be a big deal. But they all noticed. And they never let me hear the end of it.  I’d never even told them that I was… gay, y’know… and yet they saw that stupid tape and suddenly I was the joke of the team. They didn’t stop, for months. So I quit. I didn’t even think I’d play again, but my dad wanted me to try for another team, so. Here we are.” He pauses for a second, which allows Lily to process the story he’s just told her. And all Lily can feel is shock as it all sinks in, as the complete and profound meanness of teenage boys hits her. She doesn’t want to believe it but… of course his teammates would do that. It’s no surprise at all, really. They’re at about the age where boys are mean simply to be mean, simply because it brings them joy. “I really, really don’t want to mess it up again.”

Lily’s answer is immediate. “You didn’t mess it up at all,” she says, with a step towards him now. “They did.”

"But they wouldn’t have if I hadn’t done anything in the first place,” Remus says. “I should’ve known.”

She shakes her head at that, a pang hitting her chest as she realizes that Remus really does blame himself and no one else. “You did nothing, Remus,” she affirms. “Okay?”

Remus seems yet again as though he wants to protest, so Lily shoots him a look that reads Don’t you dare argue otherwise. It’s a skill that working at a pro shop for over a year has helped her to perfect, her best weapon against customers who have no idea what they are doing. And eventually, Remus swallows hard. “Feels like I did,” he says, and she recognizes the hoarseness in his voice, realizes what is about to happen. 

Lily shakes her head yet again, quicker now. “You didn’t,” she says, and she approaches him now. Just please don’t cry, she thinks in her head, as she never quite knows what to do when that happens with anyone. “I promise you, you didn’t. You didn’t do anything except be yourself, and if your team hated that, to hell with them. Right?”

Remus seems to take in those words slowly, skeptically. But finally, he brings himself to nod, his eyes looking down at the floor. “I guess so.” He still sounds like he could break into tears at any second.

Before Lily can think about what she’s doing, she takes a step forward and puts a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “Look,” she says. “This team, these people… yeah, they’re a lot at times. But they will also stand by you no matter what. Once you’re a Marauder, there’s no getting out. And I mean that. You’re stuck with them.” Remus laughs at the disdain in her voice, not realizing that everything she’s said is absolutely true. She should know—she’s been trying to shake this crazy lot off of her since middle school, and they still refuse to leave. “I’m not kidding,” she adds. “If you ever need them, they’re there. And so am I.”

She awaits a response from Remus, and to her shock, it doesn’t come out of his mouth. Instead, it comes from his arms, wrapping themselves around her in a completely unexpected hug. And God—this kid may be skinny, but he’s strong nonetheless. Still, she doesn’t hesitate to hug back this stranger she’s barely familiar with, someone who just happened to be there when he needed it. She doesn’t know much about him; but she likes him. She likes him a lot.

When at last he pulls away, probably astutely aware of the awkwardness, he gives her shoulders one last pat. And the glistening look in his eyes is gone; thank God. “Thanks,” he says.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Lily replies. Then, she grabs her plate from where she’s left it on the counter, and steps towards the doorway. “You coming?” she asks, gesturing her head towards the living room.

Remus’s answer comes quickly, more confidently than anything he’s said yet. “Yeah, let’s go.”

❅ ❅ ❅

James hadn’t meant to overhear any of it.

Honest to god, he didn’t. One second, he was introducing Regulus to everybody sitting in the living room, and things were going great. Then, he realized that he’d offered nothing to eat or drink to the newest guest, and had quickly scrambled to ask him. When Regulus had said he’d take a water, James had rushed over to the kitchen to get it for him—only to hear the hushed voice of Remus, talking as though he’d done something wrong.

He couldn’t quite catch every single word Remus was saying, but he heard something about being chased off of a team. And from then on, he knew he shouldn’t have been listening in. He should’ve walked into the kitchen and acted like he’d heard nothing at all, completely oblivious, or turned the other way and waited for Remus and whoever he was talking to to leave before getting Regulus a water. It would have been that simple. But James couldn’t help it—his curiosity got the best of him. And instead of minding his own business, instead of acknowledging that this wasn’t his secret to learn, he planted himself by the doorway to the kitchen and listened to Remus’s story. In just moments, he’s gone from knowing nearly nothing about Remus to knowing everything. And God, he shouldn’t have learned any of this. It wasn’t his to uncover. But here he is, and now he’s having a hard time feeling anything except extreme guilt.

Remus is gay. And it’s why he’s here. Because his previous team, whom he’s refused to talk about ever, chased him away and ostracized him for it—something that both saddens James and does not surprise him one bit. Remus is gay, and his team pushed him out for that singular offense, ignoring every single other thing about him. Ignoring how good of a player he is, ignoring how long he was on their team for, ignoring all except that one ultimately insignificant factor. Remus is gay, and James’s first fucked up instinct is to question why Remus didn’t think he could tell him.

He shouldn’t be bothered this much by it. Because this isn’t about him, and he knows that. He recognizes that Remus is probably terrified out of his mind over the mere possibility that the same thing might happen again, and it’s why he’s held back. Logically, he knows why Remus couldn’t tell him. But the thing is, James would get it. Maybe he doesn’t know what it feels like to be shunned by the rest of his team simply because he’s gay, but he knows what it’s like to feel different in this sport, knows what it’s like to feel entirely unwelcome. Growing up the only kid with brown skin on his entire team, he felt as though he had to work twice as hard to be seen as a worthy player, to prove he was of value and deserved to be there. He may not entirely understand, but he’d get it at least a little. He can’t understand why Remus doesn’t think so. And admittedly, he’s hurt over the matter—embarrassingly so. James is the captai n of the Marauders now, but he also wants to think of himself as a friend. He’s always tried to make it clear to everyone on the team that anything they need, he will be there for. And he’s also tried to make it clear that when he says anything, he means it. So far, he’s held up to that. At the end of last season, when Marlene came out to him, he was there. Last year, when Sirius’s mother was continually pushing back against him moving to Canada and playing in juniors, he was there. Even years ago when Peter’s family moved away, James was there. And yet, despite all of that Remus still didn’t feel like he could tell him… it makes James wonder just how good of a friend he actually is. Which in turn makes him realize he might be far more selfish than he thought. Which, in turn, leads him to ask himself one question: why? 

And that’s what scares him. He doesn’t have an answer. And he’s struggling to come up with one.

He struggles to come up with one as he walks into his garage and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge there instead. He struggles to come up with one as he returns back to the couch and hands Regulus his water at long last, relief washing over him as Regulus thanks him and doesn’t question the wait. He struggles to come up with one as Lily and Remus return to the living room, and James is the only one who knows of their conversation. He struggles to come up with one as his teammates continue to watch Sirius’s game, which has been going exceptionally well. Though he wishes he could just store all of this information away and focus on the television ahead, James finds his attempts to distract himself with the game are utterly meaningless. He cheers when the Blazers net their sixth goal of the game (and Sirius’s second), screams at the television for the team to just shoot the puck, and boos when the refs call a bullshit cross checking penalty on Sirius that the other player totally embellished, but it all just feels so secondary right now.

James isn’t stupid, nor naive. He knows that the sport of hockey is almost never kind and entirely discriminating. But he thought he was above that. He thought that others knew he was above that, too. Yet if Remus couldn’t tell him… 

Jesus, does Remus think he’s homophobic?

Shit.

Well, if he’s this bothered by Remus’s confession so much, maybe he is homophobic.

Fuck. Maybe he isn’t as above it all as he thought.

"Holy shit!” Regulus suddenly yells from next to him as the team erupts into cheers, hooting and hollering. James suddenly realizes that he has lost focus on the game entirely, and when he glances at the screen he’s greeted with the familiar goal graphic. But then… he sees the camera pan to Sirius, smiling wide as he slides down to his knees and holds his stick triumphantly in the air.

And then he watches the hats from the crowd go flying onto the ice. Everything comes together at once.

Jesus. Sirius just scored his first career hat trick, and he did it coming out of the penalty box after a stupid call.

James is quick to hop up onto his feet, jumping up and down as he lets noises out of his chest that he didn’t even know he was capable of making. “YES!!” he’s yelling, going around and high fiving all of his teammates as if they are actually at the game. It still never gets any less exciting to watch Sirius net a goal, much less three in one game. “THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND!” He finds himself grateful for this, grateful to Sirius for giving him something else to focus on instead of his rather sudden revelation. “MY BEST FRIEND JUST SCORED A HAT TRICK!” He can hear everyone in the room laughing at him now, but he doesn’t even find it in himself to care much.

When he looks back to the couch, Regulus is grinning from ear to ear. And James doesn’t even think about it—he runs back over to Regulus and hugs him, tightly. He has no idea why he does it. It’s something about the pure joy on Regulus’s face, something that James doesn’t think he’s ever seen from the boy before. He feels like he has to.

At first, Regulus doesn’t immediately move, and James is okay with that. He didn’t expect him to.

But then Regulus throws his arms back around James, with a grip even tighter than James’s as his hands find James’s shoulders, and James feels like his heart could drop into his stomach.

It’s strange. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, Regulus returning his hug. Yet James’s heart pounding against his chest, ringing in his ears, tells a different story.  He’s felt something like it before with Regulus—but it’s never been this terrifying, never been this utterly strong. He’s scared of why that might be the case.

As he pulls away from the hug, he tries his best to brush aside that feeling, instead flashing Regulus a smile as he takes a seat back on the couch. And as they turn to face the television again, it isn’t long before he can forget about it, before everything is normal again.

Except he doesn’t forget it as he and his friends are all sitting here, finishing up their plates and chatting through the game as the third period draws closer and closer to an end. He doesn’t forget about it as Regulus becomes wordless beside him, the dark circles underneath his eyes becoming far more apparent as James realizes just how exhausted he must be right now. He doesn’t forget about it as Regulus slumps further and further into the couch, on the verge of dozing off while still managing to keep his eyes open.

“I’m so sorry,” Regulus mumbles to him at one point while they’re sitting there on the couch, rubbing his eyes intensely in an effort to stay awake. “It’s been a day.”

”Don’t worry,” James tells him earnestly. He’s too lost in thought, first about Remus and then about this, to be concerned with Regulus dozing off. He glances over at Regulus as he says it, and there’s a dreamy sort of look in Regulus’s eyes as he gazes back at James that invokes in him the exact thing yet again.

If only he knew what the thing was.

If only he knew why Remus couldn’t tell him.

He looks back to the television now, though his eyes couldn’t be less focused on the game. It’s 7-1 anyways with five minutes left in the third—not much else is going to be happening. His gaze flickers between the television and Regulus now, whose upper half is tilting more and more to the side every single time James looks.

James doesn’t know when it happens—actually, that’s a lie. He knows exactly when it happens. Regulus is continuing to lean over without so much as a look in James’s direction, and finally, his head falls right against James’s shoulder. And James lets it happen, suddenly and acutely aware of the fact that his heart rate is refusing to slow, refusing to lessen.

He glances down at Regulus, Remus’s secret suddenly at the forefront of his mind. Regulus is staring straight ahead, a look of peace on his face, and James is noticing how grey his eyes are, how pink his lips appear, the stray curl that’s fallen in front of his forehead, and—

Oh.

Oh.

He’s just answered his own question. And everything makes sense.

He’s not bothered because of Remus’s lack of trust, because of the secret itself. It’s because it’s his secret too. James Potter is gay.

He’s gay, and he has feelings for Regulus Black.

He feels like he might be sick to his stomach.

The revelation distracts him from everything else, from doing anything except refusing to look at the boy on his shoulder as he attempts to process what this could mean. Am I gay? he questions. I could be bi. Or queer. Or something else. …Is he gay? 

He’s too busy with a million more questions flooding his mind that Marlene’s scream of “Shit, Sirius!” causes him to barely snap his attention back to the TV. But it’s just in time.

He’s just in time to watch Sirius skate to the corner to retrieve the loose puck, his head down as he scoops it out from against the boards.

He’s just in time to watch as a player from the Broncos, wearing #68, charges at Sirius from halfway across the ice, picking up speed rapidly as Sirius at last manages to get a good grip on the puck and begins to skate out of the zone.

And he’s just in time to watch as Sirius’s head meets the guy’s shoulder and he’s sent flying into the glass, his right arm crushed against the boards as he crumbles to the ground and doesn’t get back up.