It is almost midnight. Their house is full of people who Regulus mostly doesn’t know, but who is he if not a supportive boyfriend? Who also happens to hate crowds and gets extremely uncomfortable around strangers. Shush, he’s still supportive. And a little in love. Maybe a lot in love. Semantics, really.
Regulus Black is not a party person. However good of a host he may be, it doesn’t mean he enjoys it. What he enjoys, though, are the flying compliments on his host duties. “Great party, Regulus!” and “Love the centerpieces, Regulus!” and “Did you choose this menu? It’s absolutely divine!”. This, and the way his boyfriend absolutely lights up when Regulus finally relents and agrees to have the party at their place this time, is why Regulus does it.
James Potter is one hundred percent a party person. Regulus always thought that if someone was to be described as ‘life of the party’, they’d be absolutely insufferable and he’d never be caught dead around any of them, bar his brother, for blood matters. Another thing about Regulus Black is, he eats his words quite a lot when it comes to one James Potter. He might not admit it and don’t you dare bring it up, but everyone knows it happens.
When Regulus first realized his feelings for James, he was angry. He was absolutely livid. He didn’t speak to his friends for a whole week, an incident they still hold over him to this very day. In Regulus’s defense, he was mad at himself. Not only did he catch feelings for someone, but it was his brother’s best friend. Does it stop at that? No, because not only was it his brother’s best friend, but it was loud, arrogant, life of the party, jokester, absolutely beautiful James Potter and Regulus was not having it.
The week following his anger strike, Regulus had to shamefully admit to his friends what was going on. An incident that resulted in them calling him every synonym of dramatic asshole under the sun, and then inevitably remembering the tragic way their friend was brought up, and explaining to him why having feelings for someone is not an absurdity. The fact that it was his brother’s best friend might be, but who was he to choose the person to fall for?
Needless to say, the journey to Regulus admitting to himself, let alone James, that he did in fact harbor feelings for him, was a long one. Regulus would say it was terrible, vulnerable, and terrifyingly exposing. James, on the other hand, would say it was the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Only one of them is a liar.
This year, Sirius and Remus’s house was undergoing some renovations, leading them to forgo their annual tradition of holding a new year’s party for their friends and a bunch of strangers who somehow end up there as well. James absolutely jumped at the opportunity, looking at Regulus with his most convincing impression, muttering pleases and I love yous, for which Regulus goes uselessly weak.
Which brings Regulus here, a few minutes from midnight, scouring the room for his boyfriend, because clichés be damned, but Regulus was going to kiss his boyfriend at midnight. He might even do it in front of his brother, who would be absolutely livid and accuse Regulus of ruining the new year for him, for a two-birds-one-stone situation.
He looks for James everywhere, getting lost amongst bodies of people, spilled champagne, scattered coats, and annoyingly catchy music in an ungodly volume. Regulus might be a bit overwhelmed. He decides to head to his room for a break and resume his search for James after he’s calmed down a bit.
He turns the light on and is surprised to see James at the foot of the bed. “Hi, love.” He says with a smile. Regulus raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend, to which James simply shrugs. “Figured you’d end up here eventually, and I know you’d rather die than start off the new year in your own personal hell: an overly crowded, loud party where no one is sober enough to comment on your top-notch host skills.”
Regulus is so in love he could die. It is honestly embarrassing, and if he goes soft and smiles and looks at James like he is the answer and the reason and the absolute light of his life, he’ll blame it on the alcohol he didn’t have today, and no one would know.
Regulus takes a seat next to James and rests his head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” He mumbles, to which James reaches over and squeezes his hand. They do that a lot. Reassuring touches, small ones, so Regulus isn’t overwhelmed. He’s not exactly the best at physical touch, and despite James’s primary love language being exactly that, the other man has been nothing but patient and gentle with Regulus. A fact Regulus can never be grateful enough for. So they’ve developed a routine, small touches for consent, to gauge the situation, see if Regulus is alright with this. It’s a song and dance they mindlessly perform at this point, neither of them too aware of it.
Regulus squeezes James’s hand back. Once. Twice. Three times. Regulus can feel his boyfriend smile as he turns around to cup Regulus’s face between his hands. “You’re about to be extremely fucking cheesy, aren’t you?” Regulus says, fighting the smile on his lips, and failing horribly.
“Shush, it’s new year’s, I get a pass,” James doesn’t even try to fight his smile, he just beams at Regulus, foreheads touching and noses brushing. Regulus can hear the faint sounds of people shouting outside. The countdown being at 30 seconds to midnight. He tunes them out. “Every one of these that we spend together is a marvel. And every year, I wish it for again and again and again. Because little James who saw grey eyes and curly hair that rendered him speechless for the first time in his eighteen years of life,” Regulus laughs.
Ten.
“He never thought he’d get to stare at them every new year’s eve, and every single day until the next one comes along, and the next, and the next. I am a man of many words, Regulus, but when it comes to you, the only ones I seem to remember are Thank God and I love you, and I’m so grateful you think they’re enough, because I certainly don’t,” If Regulus’s eyes water, he’s blaming that on the alcohol too.
Five.
“You deserve poems and sonnets and odes, but I stumble and I just-“ Regulus wants to pull James closer, but it is physically impossible to be closer than they are now. “Every one of these we spend together, I’m eternally grateful you’re still here. Eternally grateful you and I aren’t strangers. Eternally grateful I get to make you smile and hear your laugh over and over again.”
Regulus is so in love, he could barely breathe, “I love you.”
One.
The next few hours pass in a blur. The party dies down a bit around 2 am, leaving only Regulus and James and their closest friends in their living room. Sirius and Remus on the loveseat. Marlene and Dorcas on one side of the couch, Mary and Lily on the other. Pandora judging an intense game of God knows what between Evan, Peter, and Barty.
Regulus is tipsy, for real this time. Enough to not hide his smile. Enough for his cheeks to be properly flushed. Enough for him to be clinging to James in an act that, if sober, he’d call beyond obscene and entirely to vulnerable. Enough for him to reach out and squeeze James’s hand. Once. Twice. Three times. If James is surprised, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he reaches over and kisses Regulus.
Sirius pretends to gag in the background, confetti is thrown at them, and the music changes to something entirely too sappy for Regulus’s taste, but he doesn’t care. He kisses James back, flipping his brother off in the process, and once again, not hiding his smile. James smiles back at him into the kiss. Regulus is tipsy and happy and in love.
The next morning finds Regulus’s friends passed out in his living room. His beautiful hardwood floors covered in confetti, champagne bottles, and, is that wax? Regulus walks over to pick a bottle up and finds a small polaroid underneath. It’s captured in the moment where both James and Regulus are smiling into the kiss, Regulus’s middle finger, obviously directed at Sirius, is front and center. Regulus traces the picture with his fingers and smiles.
“Remus is a sneaky one, isn’t he?” James says from behind him, arms snaking around his waist and head resting on his shoulder. “We’re framing this one.”
James is expecting Regulus to argue, but Regulus just nods, smile still fresh on his lips. He turns around and kisses his James’s cheek, to which James squeezes Regulus’s hand. Once. Twice. Three times. The rest of the day is spent lazing around, cleaning up bottles, and arguing about the perfect place to hang their polaroid.