Lunch notes
James is sitting on the sofa enjoying a cup of tea since Harry was finally asleep for more than 30 minutes when Regulus came home from work. Usually, his husband would smile and kiss him if it was a good workday or flung himself on the sofa in his true Black dramatic nature if it was a bad day. But today Regulus just glared at him.
“Hello, love?” James asks testing the waters.
“Oh, am I love now?” Regulus narrows his eyes. At the beginning of their relationship, James would be worried he did something wrong immediately going into a panic spiral. After all these years he learned to wait and see if the situation is truly worth panicking about.
“Reggie, you are always my love, the only one. My heart and soul…” James is watching Regulus carefully if the flattery is helping. “… the meaning of my life. How could you ever think you were anything less than my happiness?”
Regulus scoffs and says hurriedly. “So, where the fuck is my note?”
James has to bite his lower lip and hit behind the mug not to grin widely. “You mean the love notes I put into your lunch boxes you insist you don’t need and are unnecessary and too mushy?”
“Yes.” Regulus glares at him his hands crossed over his chest. Somehow James forgot. It was a crazy morning with Harry running around. He looks up at his husband with an apologetic smile, but he knows the corners of his mouth are twitching.
“I’m sorry.”
Regulus waves his hand gesturing to James. “Write me one now, Potter.”
“Isn’t it a little late now? I will write one tomorrow.” James says reaching for him. Regulus doesn’t put much or more precisely any fight as James tugs to his lap. Regulus settles but is still pouting. James laughs and kisses the wrinkles between his eyebrows. He reaches behind him to pull out a small notebook and pen.
He rests the paper against Regulus’ bent knee so the boy can see as he writes.
For my lovely hedgehog, who refuses to admit how much he adores me even tho we are married and have a kid. But he is a terrible liar, so I know anyway.
Love you, Jamie.
He draws a little heart at the end of the note. “Better, love?” He asks as he folds the paper and gives it to his husband. Regulus buries his face into James’ neck, the note holding close to his chest.
“Thank you.” He wispers. James grins and kisses the top of his head.
Little James knows that in the very back of their closet there is a hidden paper box filled with folded lunch notes.