Chapter 1
The first time Regulus meets Remus Lupin, he hates him. Hate is an understatement, he despises the older boy, he wants to kill him with his bare hands, wants to rip him apart limb by limb and leave the carcass for crows to feast on. The only thing stopping him is that he wouldn’t get far if he tried, even tired after a fight, Lupin could easily take Regulus who hasn’t fought a day in his life. That, and Barty lying in the cage in front of him, he’s sat up now, but those minutes where he just lay there, still and unmoving, repeat in Regulus’ mind.
Barty is everything to him, his best-friend, brother, family, the one person who’s stuck by him through everything. If anything happened to him— God. Regulus doesn’t know what he would do, probably die. He knows he can’t physically hurt Lupin—he’s a good fighter, likely to make it into the UFC—, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hurt him. Not right now, but when he gets home, he has all sorts of unsavoury contacts. He could destroy Lupin’s life with one phone call.
Regulus is already sitting cageside and he stands up trying to get as close as possible, but he’s not allowed into the ring and Barty hasn’t been removed yet. Lupin is celebrating with his team, whooping loudly, performing for the audience of his fans that cheer for him, his injured opponent forgotten. Regulus seethes.
Anger has always been his go-to emotion. It fades quickly, unlike Sirius, Regulus can’t hold onto anger for long, it’s almost always a front for something else and he’s not good at hiding from his emotions. Right now, Regulus is desperately clinging to anger so he doesn’t fall apart with worry. Barty will be okay, he can tell by the way the medics are moving, not exactly slow, but there’s no panic or mania. From the way Barty is standing and his rapid blinking it appears he just has a bad concussion.
Everything moves rather quickly, Barty gets escorted into an ambulance to the hospital, Regulus isn’t allowed in with him as his coach is already there so he makes his way to his car to drive there. He can’t quite figure out how to leave though, there’s people everywhere and it’s not a big venue, but he can’t remember where he parked his car, and he’s not actually sure which hospital Barty is at.
He changes course, making his way over to the area where all the fighters got ready. It’s kind of like backstage. He doesn’t have a wristband or anything, but maybe security will let him in. Even if they don’t, Barty’s team will recognise him, and all he needs is for someone to tell him where Barty is. He’ll figure out where his car is later, or he’ll just call an Uber.
Regulus is in a corridor, nearly to Barty’s when he spots Remus Lupin. He’s still shirtless and bloody from the fight. Regulus wonders how much of it is Barty’s blood and how much is his own.
Regulus remembers Lupin kicking Barty in the head, Barty falling and not getting up, he remembers screaming. The words hadn’t made much sense, he remembers screaming: “CALL IT!” remembers cursing out the referee for not stopping the fight, the panic he’d felt when Lupin, who’d walked away, confident he’d landed a winning kick had realised the ref hadn’t said anything, Regulus’ heart had been in his throat, everything happening in slow motion as Lupin stalked back over to Barty’s body and landed a hard punch to his head before the ref pulled him off and finally called it.
Regulus remembers his best-friend's unmoving body and he feels the urge to make sure Lupin bleeds.
He walks up to Lupin who turns from the person he’s talking to, a shorter man with light brown hair, and faces Regulus. He smirks at him, his eyes tracking up and down Regulus’ body, apparently not reading the anger from his face.
“Hey sweetheart—”
Regulus cuts him off with a punch to the jaw. Lupin doesn’t have time to dodge, too shocked and maybe too fatigued, pain blooms across Regulus’ fist as it makes contact. Good, he thinks. He knows Lupin can take a punch, it probably barely hurt, but Regulus still hopes it did.
Still angry, Regulus presses his hands to Lupin’s chest to push him, but Lupin’s caught up by now and he catches Regulus’ wrists in a tight grip and uses it to shove Regulus against a wall. He lets go of Regulus’ wrists quickly, and he has a moment of relief, maybe Lupin won’t retaliate, he thinks, but then his air cuts off. Lupin’s wrapped a hand around his throat, it’s not a gentle warning, it’s tight and Regulus can’t breathe. He forces himself not to panic, he’s not a stranger to being choked, his mother used to choke him until he was on the verge of passing out.
But he’s running out of air faster than he expected and there’s a cloudiness settling into his mind. His ears ring, he can hear the boy Lupin was with yelling, he wants to tell him to shut up, but no can’t even breathe, how could he possibly talk. Hopelessly, he brings up his hands to claw at Lupin’s hands around his neck; it doesn’t work. Lupin just uses his free hand to bat Regulus’ hands away, smirking down at him while he does.
Just as he nearly slips out of consciousness, Lupins’ hand loosens and Regulus gasps, it only takes him a few moments to compose himself. He still feels breathless and his lungs burn, but he refuses to let Lupin see him heaving for breath. He wishes Lupin would take his hand off his throat, while it’s no longer cutting off his airway, he’s still pressed into it pretty firmly, and he’s sure Lupin can feel his pulse racing. It’s embarrassing.
Regulus brings his hands up again, grips Lupin’s hand and attempts to pull it away, when he doesn’t give in he slaps Lupin across the cheek. Or he tries to, but Lupin catches his wrist again, squeezes it so hard Regulus feels the bones grind and then lets it go. Regulus' hands fall uselessly by his side, he’s pressed against the wall, Remus looming over him, one hand by his head, the other on his throat. It hits Regulus just how vulnerable he is at this moment.
“You’re a fiery one aren’t you?”
It rubs Regulus the wrong way that Lupin doesn’t even look angry, instead he looks amused, like Regulus is a misbehaved cat. There’s little more Regulus hates than being looked down upon. He’s a goddamn Black.
“Fuck you,” he replies. Then he gathers up all the saliva in his mouth and spits it in Lupin’s face.
In a flash Lupin turns him around so his front is pressed into the wall, his hands pinned behind his back, Lupins’ body warm against his as it presses into his backside.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Lupin demands.
“You put my best friend in the hospital!” With the knowledge that Barty will be okay and the person who hurt him in front of him, all Regulus can feel is anger.
The hands holding his wrist loosen a little, but don’t let go. “He knew the risks.”
“He was already out! Why the fuck would you punch someone who was lying down.” Regulus struggles against Lupin with renewed vigour.
Lupin presses into him again. Regulus can feel him moving closer, can feel his breath on his neck, his lips moving against his ear as he whispers, “Calm down.”
Something hard presses into Regulus arse, but then it’s gone and so is Lupin’s hands holding his wrist. He spins around to face him again, surprised when he comes face to face with the other boy, turns out he only moved back enough to not be touching Regulus, but he’s still close. Regulus studies him for a moment, he has sandy brown hair, a light smatter of freckles on tanned skin, his nose is slightly crooked, and there’s a scar on his left eyebrow. If Regulus didn’t hate him he would acknowledge that he’s attractive, but he does so right now, Remus Lupin is the most revolting human he’s ever seen.
“I’m going to destroy you.” Regulus says to him, voice dripping vitriol.
At this, Lupin laughs, his hands coming up to rest on either side of Regulus’ head, bracketing him in. it’s a show of power, an assertion of dominance. “I’d like to see you try.”
“If you hurt him again… Don’t think I can’t.”
Lupin scoffs and his friend—Regulus forgot he was there—also laughs. Regulus looks away from Lupin to study him for a moment, his hair is more blonde than brown he notes, he’s short and rather plump, probably not another fighter. That’s all he gets to see before a firm hand on his jaw is making him look at Lupin again.
“I know you can’t, love.” Lupin says, his eyes boring into Regulus.
Regulus fumes at the condensation in his voice. “Do you know who I am,” he demands, hating himself, but needing to make sure these people know not to mess with him. “I’m Regulus Black. I’m a fucking Black, I could—”
“And I’m Remus Lupin,” Lupin says mockingly. “So fucking what.”
Regulus smirks, Lupin might not sound impressed, but he doesn’t miss the intake of breath from Lupin’s friend.
“Moony, maybe we should—”
“Oh for fucks sake, Pete, he’s just a kid.”
Regulus bristles, there’s no way Lupin is anymore than a few years older than him. Regulus turned 19 a few months ago and he’s pretty sure Barty mentioned him being 21 or something.
“The Blacks are insane.” Lupin’s friend, Pete, says. Regulus would feel offended if it weren’t true. “Crazy rich and fucking insane. Moony, just let it go.”
Lupin backs off reluctantly and Regulus smirks. “Good boy,” he says, patting Lupin on the head like a dog before sauntering off. He hopes they can’t see the way his hands shake.