“WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT REAL?” Regulus heard James yell from the living room. What had his brother done now? Sirius was always poking the metaphorical bear, and James was so easily goaded.
Regulus brought his attention back to the task of holiday baking in his quiet little bubble, while the others fussed over decorating the tree. He silently wished the seasonal muggle music would drown out whatever was happening in the other room.
They were staying at the Potter residence together this Christmas—a first for Regulus, and as James’ boyfriend, no less. Many firsts like this have been occurring lately. Regulus smiled to himself.
The irritation washed away, soon turned to relief and even giddiness as he let himself think about it. He and Sirius were getting along, Remus was the greatest friend he could ever ask for, and James … James was everything. He never thought he would find someone so perfectly matched for him, because he never let himself have that much hope. The year prior was a dark period for the Black brother’s, but James was their beacon of light, a promise of a better future. All it took was one look and flash of that sunshine smile from James for Regulus to know. The past few months had brought so much good, he could hardly believe this was his life.
The warm feelings were suddenly replaced with panic, as Regulus realized his boyfriend was no longer yelling, but crying.
Regulus quickly wiped his hands off and ran to the living room only to collide with his brother.
“I didn’t mean to say it!” Sirius blurted out as he righted Regulus.
“What did you do!” he hissed in reply.
“I may have … accidentally … um…”
“Spit it out!”
“I-said-how-disappointing-it-was-that-Santa-wasn’t-real-because-Christmas-is-otherwise-so-magical,” Sirius rushed out.
And now Regulus was seething. He could feel the heat rising to the tips of his ears. Oh, Sirius had really done it this time.
Regulus adored how much James loved this holiday. He was already such a bright light, but when December came around? James somehow shined even brighter. Regulus found it endearing that James still believed in Kris Kringle. They lived in a world of witches and wizards, potions and spells … Why couldn’t a jolly, white-bearded man fly around home-to-home to spread Christmas cheer? It didn't seem very far-fetched when even their Headmaster resembled such a person when in his crimson robes. Mythical beings such as Saint Nick had never been part of the House of Black upbringing. Sirius and Regulus were told at a very young age that there were no such persons. Who else but their parents would provide them with everything they needed? Walburga was a monster for getting all the credit; she certainly wasn’t going to let them believe some man in a red suit was providing for them, even if it was only once a year.
But Sirius knew. They both knew that James was brought up in a much warmer, much more loving household. James believed, and Sirius had completely ruined it.
Regulus looked over Sirius’ shoulder to see James huddled up in a ball against Remus’ side. Remus was rubbing small circles on his back and whispering comforting words in James’ ear.
He turned back to his brother. “I can’t believe you let that slip!”
“SO YOU KNEW, TOO? Everyone knew this information but me? Am I just some simple fool to you guys? Look at James, still believing in ol’ Santy Claus. It must have been quite the running joke,” James cried, and it broke Regulus’ heart.
“You better think of a way to fix this,” Regulus whispered to his brother as he walked over to James, crouched to the floor and started to pull him up. “We’re going to bed.” Regulus knew a few ways he could make James forgive him, and none of them were for the eyes of his brother and best friend.
“But, we’re not—,”
“GOODNIGHT.” Regulus said, interrupting his brother. He didn’t want to hear it. Sirius better think of a way to get James past this he thought to himself, as he dragged his sulking boyfriend up the stairs.
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Regulus was the first to wake the next morning. He crept downstairs to bask in the quiet comfort of the Potter’s kitchen nook. It was so pleasant here. Euphemia had set up cushions just the way Regulus liked them for when he was reading. She had learned so much about him in the little time since they were formally introduced, and so effortlessly made the house into a home for Regulus. Just as she did for Sirius years ago. He couldn’t believe his luck. The boy whose presence rivaled the sun had chosen him, as did his family.
He had just sat down with his coffee and newest book, when his solace was interrupted by his brother shuffling timidly into the seat across from him. Regulus’ eyes didn’t leave the page he was reading. He could feel the look Sirius was giving him, the look that a dog gets when its tail is between its legs.
“I told him I was sorry Reg,” Sirius said, barely above a whisper. “I hate that I’m the one that crushed his spirit.”
“Well, I hope you thought of a way to make him forget about it. You’ve scarred my boyfriend for life.” When they had retired to the bedroom last night, he consoled James in some of his favorite ways, then listened to James talk through his feelings on the matter until they both fell asleep. To his surprise, James wasn’t as torn up as Regulus thought he would be—it was the initial shock of it all that got to him. As well as the person who abruptly delivered the blow. His boyfriend is logical, contrary to Regulus’ initial impression of him; pacifying him with Christmas facts and origins of traditions ended up being easier than Regulus expected. Regulus liked to think that it was because he was the one telling James that it made it easier for him to accept. As they got comfortable—Regulus pulling James’ arm across his chest, James burying his nose into Regulus’ hair—he was reminded that as smart as James was, he was equally (if not more) dramatic, hearing James mutter that he still felt betrayed by his best friend, before nodding off.
“Actually, I have an idea,” Sirius said, perking up a bit. Regulus didn’t like it.
“I already regret asking, but what is your idea?” Regulus questioned.
“I need you to go to the muggle shop with me, I’ll explain it all on the way.”
Regulus heard alarms go off in his brain, but he was learning to trust his brother more and more each day, so he got ready for their outing with very little fight.
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Regulus couldn’t believe he let Sirius talk him into this. Sirius’ grand plan? To dress up as sweet, old Santa Claus. Of course, Sirius made it look good with his signature black boots and red pleather pants that Kringle would never be caught wearing, but the gesture was there. This was not the worst of it. No, he somehow convinced Regulus that he would also have to dress the part. As Santa’s helpful little elf. Staring at his ridiculous reflection, he realized the only reason he agreed to this was because it was for James. The boy he is in love with. To see that megawatt smile.
Regulus did take some artistic liberties with his costume. Instead of the ridiculous red stockings, he opted for thigh-high socks with a green, white, and black striped pattern. They were his colors after all. The green hat was … well it was there. Regulus tried styling it off the side of his head, but all this did was mess with his black curls. He left it at that. He made sure the blouse was a size up from his usual to make it more of a mini dress, complete with a signature black belt with silver buckle at his waist to tie the atrocity of an ensemble together. If you can even call it that. With a deep sigh, Regulus gave himself one last look in the mirror then turned to walk out of his room before he lost his nerve.
Downstairs, the party was already in full swing. James had told Regulus that this is something his parents enjoyed doing each year. They didn’t hold back on decorations, food, entertainment, or presents. James’ love for the holiday was influenced by Fleamont and Euphemia after all. The only difference, it was a significantly shorter guest list, a much more intimate gathering. Just the family, very close relatives and James’ friends. Regulus thinks this may have been for him, as he is not the most social of butterflies, and it is his first year here for the holidays. He makes a mental note to thank the Potter’s later, even though he knows they will graciously state that a smaller gathering was always their intent.
The muggle music was playing, the room was warm, lit, inviting. A chair had been set up in the middle, and Regulus started to turn back around when he remembered what it was for. Unfortunately, Sirius was already coming down the stairs, looking excitedly at him.
“Are you ready?” Sirius asked.
“As I’ll ever be. Remind me to never come along with you when you have a grand idea again.”
Sirius scoffed, “This is one of my better ideas, you have to admit.”
“One of the least likely to get us in trouble, arrested, or killed, yes. The bar is low, Sirius,” Regulus replied dryly. “Let’s get this over with.”
James was off to the side of the room with Remus, talking animatedly as James Potter does. Regulus couldn’t help the smile that crept up on his face. James was so beautiful, and all his.
Sirius walked in front of him, speaking loud enough to catch everyone’s attention, “James Potter! Feast your eyes! SANTA IS HERE. In the flesh! HO, HO, HO!”
Oh, Salazar. Sirius was laying it on thick. Regulus expected as much. What he did not expect was the heated look he was receiving when he caught James' eye. James' pupils had gone completely black, and he looked as if he was fighting the urge to pounce. Maybe he did well with this costume after all. Or perhaps James was still angry with Sirius.
Regulus and Sirius walked over to their friends. “Well Prongs, Happy Christmas!” Sirius said, wrapping his arms around James. James returned the hug, with a hint of smile at the corner of his lips.
Sirius then hastily pulled Remus in the direction of the chair, whispering something along the lines of “Moony, why don’t you come sit on Santa’s lap?” Regulus caught his best friend's cheeks reddening, and turned away from Remus to relieve him of any further shared embarrassment that only his brother was capable of causing.
When Regulus’ eyes met James’, he didn’t know what to make of it. Was he disappointed? Did he think they were making fun of him? Regulus clearly didn’t think this through, and now he was panicking.
Rubbing his now sweaty wrists on his shirt-dress, Regulus asked, “What do you think? Did Sirius redeem himself? Do you forgive him?” James just stood there, his gaze trailing from Regulus’ eyes down to his toes. He was lighting Regulus on fire from the inside out.
“I hope you don’t think this was in jest, he really thought–”
Regulus’ apology was interrupted with James’ lips crashing down on his. Regulus loved how James kissed him. Unashamed and with so much passion, claiming even. Everyone around them faded to black as he let himself get lost in the moment, until James broke the kiss to take a breath.
“I think this may have been one of Sirius’ best ideas yet,” James said, lips close to Regulus’ ear. He moved Regulus so his back was towards the wall, James shielding him from any lingering eyes. He placed one hand on Regulus’ hip, and slid the other just under the hem of his shirt-dress on his outer thigh, dangerously close to his backside.
“Sirius can consider himself forgiven. Because this …” He whispered, fingers moving slowly back and forth on Regulus' leg, “is more than I could’ve ever dreamed of getting for Christmas.” Regulus’ breath hitched. James noticed, and responded by squeezing his thigh.
“How long do we have to stay down here?” Regulus asked, reading the change in James’ mood.
James grabbed Regulus hand and pulled him out of the living room, into the foyer. “We’ve made our appearance, let’s go upstairs so you can show me if I was on the naughty or nice list this year.”
Regulus beamed as he raced up the stairs, James hot on his heels.