carpe diem

20

JAMES

James likes to consider himself a calm person. As a friend, he's someone who rarely blows their fuse. He's always been the mediator in the group, something that came in handy when Sirius and Remus would go for each others throats back when their hormones were rife and they'd wind each other up dancing around their obvious attractions. Not a lot got James angry, and even less got him shouting. His parents always taught him growing up to choose his battles, and he's carried that with him into his 20's.

Pressure is not something that James crumbles under. Intense situations have never made him quake or panic. When he worked as a paramedic up in Scotland, he dove head first into chaotic emergency situations, adrenaline pumping through his bloodstream, but his heart wouldn't skip a beat, his hands wouldn't tremble or shake. He kept his head, kept his cool, kept his thoughts straight and clear. He had people's lives in his hands, had to keep their hearts beating, blood inside their bodies, keep them and their hysterical families calm without breaking a sweat.

He did it. He was amazing at it, and he's always taken pride in his ability to keep himself from cracking under the pressure in those moments.

James is a calm person.

He's rational. He's realistic. He's a victim of jumping to conclusions as much as the next person, but if he's left to think about it for long enough, he can normally bring himself back down to Earth.

Yet, now, James is panicking.

He's really panicking.

He doesn't really care if he's being irrational now, or silly, or dramatic, because he's pretty sure Regulus is missing.

The last time James heard from Regulus was on Wednesday morning at 2am when the younger boy sent a text to let James know that the night shift was going smoothly apart from a bitchy student that apparently stole his coffee. James was asleep when the text was sent, but when he read it in the morning, he laughed at the ridiculousness and vowed to take Regulus a coffee that afternoon after he'd slept off the nightshift fatigue.

James has become familiar with Regulus' night shift routines, and there's two of them that occur absolutely no rhyme or reason, it just depends on how Regulus is feeling on the day.

Option one, is that Regulus will come off the nightshift strangely buzzed, will go about his day as if he hasn't been on his feet all night, and go to bed at a normal time in the evening when he's completely rundown and exhausted.

Option two, is when Regulus comes out of the shift absolutely drained, makes his way home and has a power nap till midday. Then, he'll force himself up, no where near rested enough, drink excessive amounts coffee to make James worried he'll have a heart attack at 23, and stay up with bleary eyes until he collapses into bed again in the evening.

Truthfully, James doesn't like either option. Mostly because they both cause Regulus to look exhausted and pale, but he appreciates unless Regulus wants to stay in the night shift sleep routine, at some point he has to stay awake to sleep again at night.

James understands probably more than anyone else apart from Regulus' other health care friends. James has been there with night shifts, and despite Regulus not needing to provide James with another reason to admire the younger man, James can't help but be impressed with the younger males self discipline.

The last time James heard from Regulus was two in the morning on Wednesday. Typically, James would have expected to have heard from Regulus again by early afternoon, the latest he would have woken up if he decided to have a power nap.

It's now seven in the morning on Friday.

James text Regulus yesterday mid afternoon to check in, to let him know that he's available if Regulus wants to see or talk to him. Even when Regulus has rough shifts, he still drops James a text to let him know he's made it home okay and that he just needs some space to get his head around what he had to deal with in the hospital. James gets it when Regulus goes quiet sometimes. He's been there after tough shifts, after dealing with traumatic or difficult situations and patients. James understands, which is why he's always forced himself to allow Regulus the space to silently digest what has shaken him up. When Regulus is ready, in his own time, he always comes back to James.

Except, not this time.

This time, it's complete radio silence.

Normally, James wouldn't have gotten this concerned this quickly. He would be able to rationalise that maybe Regulus is sleeping, or maybe he's met up with Pandora or Evan or Barty. James would be able to assure him, that while Regulus' lack of texts is unusual, there is probably a justifiable reason why.

Not this time.

Not this time, because, it's come right off the back of James telling Regulus that he wants the two of them to have dinner with Sirius and Remus.

Regulus, unsurprisingly, wasn't happy about the invite. James had approached the subject Wednesday afternoon when Regulus had woken up for his last night shift. After some convincing, Regulus had reluctantly agreed to coming to James' flat on Friday night for a meal with the three of them. James found it adorable the way that Regulus huffs and grumbled on the phone about it, repeating that he was only doing it so he could see James and speak to Remus when the guy wasn't his sick patient.

James knew Regulus wasn't truly happy about it, and he felt guilty enough as it is knowing that Regulus was doing it mostly to please James.

So Regulus going M.I.A?

James is not calm.

At all.

He can't bring himself to convince himself it's not a coincidence. Worst still, the small part of his brain that tells him the two are not related, is still wildly concerned about Regulus' silence.

What if he didn't make it home from the hospital?

What if he crashed his car?

What someone broke into his flat and attacked him?

What if he was mugged?

What if he's hurt?

James has spent all night thinking about it, waking at regular intervals with Regulus' welfare the only thing on his mind, and by the time seven AM rolls around, he can't sit around and wait any longer.

There's too many possibilities.

Too many what if's.

James tries phoning Regulus again. Six texts and eight missed calls go unanswered since yesterday afternoon.

He knows his mum hasn't been on shift in days and isn't at work today. She'll be no more help in retracing Regulus' steps than Sirius or Remus. James doesn't have Barty's, Evan's or Pandora's numbers to check if they've heard from him. There is no one in James' contact list that are more likely than him to have heard or seen Regulus since he finished his shift yesterday morning.

James is so wired, his brain tricking him into imagining Regulus in car crashes and beaten in a home invasion, that when he arrives at the hospital at 7:30, he has no shame.

He goes straight up to neurology ward. A route he's done many times, either for his mum, for Remus, or for Regulus.

This is the only time he's felt a twisted kind of desperation.

When he sees Dorcas at the reception desk, James almost weeps. Dorcas is like Regulus' right-hand man. The two of them are like a pair of bandits, a force to be reckoned with. If anyone is going to know, Dorcas is James' best accessible bet.

She looks surprised when James practically jogs up to the desk.

"James?" She frowns. "What are you doing here? You do realise neither your mum or Reg is working today, and as far as I'm aware, Remus hasn't been admitted."

"I'm here about Regulus."

She smirks down at her paperwork. "Trouble in paradise?" She teases.

"Dorcas," James replies. "I really need your help."

Dorcas blinks. Shock and confusion are clear when her eyebrows practically disappear into her hair line.

"What's happened?" She asks. Then, her eyes narrow, "What did you do?"

"Why do you assume I've done something?"

"I still haven't quite emotionally recovered from seeing the damage Sirius did to my baby back in January," Dorcas replies coldly. "You guys ruined the one person I have never seen crumble to anything. So, yes, I'm assuming you or one of your wank-stains have done something again."

James can't help but grimace. Memories of January come flooding back to mind. He knows him and Regulus have managed to come out of it the other side, but he knows Sirius' reappearance into his life and James' accidental part in it took its toll on Regulus. James shouldn't be surprised his friends are still angry.

Hell, he's quite pleased they are. It's good to know Regulus has got an army of people standing behind him, protecting him, propelling him. James doesn't doubt that Regulus is strong and stubborn enough to be able to deal with things on his own, but James knows that Regulus is only human, and years of bottling things up began to show their cracks. James is just pleased that while he played a part in it, Regulus' friends did what he couldn't and picked up the pieces.

Dorcas' statement also unleashes a wave of uncertainty in James' stomach at the prospect of having a sit down dinner with Remus and Sirius tonight. James knows it'll be a long time until the two brothers are ready to play happy families again, but James at least wants to try. He wants to do everything he can to help keep the bridge between them that he accidently aided in destroying all those years ago. He knows he played a part in Regulus' pain. He knows, despite not knowing at the time nor having any actual conscious part in it, that James was one of the people to took Sirius away from Regulus, who took the younger man's only source of life when he offered Sirius a home to escape to when he was 16.

James will never truly be able to forgive himself knowing that while he saved Sirius, he left someone else in that house to rot, to disappear, to be hurt. While James was out playing brothers with Sirius, the real one was being slowly chipped away at, alone and abandoned by the only person he saw as a salvation in that abusive home.

"I haven't done anything," James replies. I don't think, he doesn't add.

Dorcas raises an eyebrow at him.

"I can't get ahold of him," James explains, running a hand through his hair and barely refraining from tugging at the strands. "I've tried calling and texting but I've heard nothing. I'm getting really worried. It's not like him to ignore me like this, and I know he was on a night shift and finished yesterday morning, and I just— I— I can't help but worry—"

"Woah, woah, slow down," Dorcas interrupts. "James, are you telling me that because Regulus hasn't replied to your texts or phone calls yesterday or this morning that you have come into the hospital?"

"Yes," James nods instantly. "He works here. I didn't know if he came back on another shift or if anything, someone here might know of his last whereabouts."

"Stalker much?"

"I don't care if I seem daft right now. Regulus always texts me after a night shift to let me know he's made it home okay. Sometimes it's in the morning, sometimes it's when he's woken up from a nap in the afternoon. He's never not sent me something, and call me dramatic but I'm assuming the fucking worst has happened."

Dorcas stares at him for a beat of silence before she asks, "Have you guys had a fight?"

James' stomach drops. "What?"

The doctor shrugs a shoulder. "He might be ignoring you."

"We haven't had a fight," James denies weakly, uncertain.

Dorcas raises an eyebrow. "But?"

"He might potentially be annoyed at me. Which has no helped at all in this situation."

"Clearly," she smirks.

"Look, tease me all you want about this but please, I'm begging you, try and phone him and see if he answers. Because if he's annoyed at me and ignoring me, then fine because I can live with that. But if he's hurt and I don't help him because I gave up after a few phone calls, I will never forgive myself."

James doesn't care if Regulus hates him right now for the Sirius situation or something more. They can fight, they can scream and argue and shout, and then they can work it out. James can live worh Regulus being angry at him because he can fix that. He will fix that.

He can't fix it if Regulus is hurt and has been hurt for potentially up to 24 hours.

"That's sweet," Dorcas smiles, then it drops suddenly. "Actually, it's too sweet. I think what you just said has given me diabetes."

James draws in a shaky breath. "Please."

"Fine, but only because I can't decide if it's romantic or psychotic that you've come into his work to track someone down to phone him, just to see if him not answering the phone is because he's ignoring you personally or not."

"Thank you," James nods.

"I very much doubt he's ignoring you," Dorcas adds as she looks down at her phone. "Reg might not say it to your face, but he's fucking besotted by you."

For the first time since yesterday afternoon, James smiles. "Really?"

Dorcas hums. "It's quite revolting."

She brings the phone to her ear. James waits in anticipation. He realises that either outcome of Regulus either picking up the phone or not to Dorcas is going to have a potential bad outcome. Either Regulus is going to pick up and admit he's angry and ignoring James, or he's not going to answer and the sinister scenarios James has fabricated in his head are going to blow up in magnitude.

He waits. Dorcas looks bored as she holds the phone, waiting without concern for Regulus to do what she's likely expecting: answer the call.

James' heart drops when she pulls the phone away from her ear.

"No answer," she murmurs, dark eyebrows pulled in a tight frown.

"Fuck."

She shakes her head, staring down at her phone. "That's not like Reg."

"I know."

"He always answers to me," she adds.

"Fuck!" James says again, voice coming out strained. "What... what do we do? I— I don't—"

"Don't panic," Dorcas soothes gently yet stern at the same time. "I don't know when he was last on because our rotas are opposite this month, but I'll phone Barty."

James takes a deep breath and nods.

Suddenly, he feels like he's brought back down to earth. He reminds himself that it's only been less than 24 hours. It hasn't even been long enough to file a missing persons police report without being laughed out of the station.

He quickly appreciates that despite Dorcas' teasing, she's been patient with him since his sudden arrival at her reception desk. He's come to her out of the blue, spouting intense fear that about Regulus not answering his phone, and she's taken it on the chin and is helping him. She could have easily laughed him out of the hospital and chuckled him on his ass.

For that, he respects the hell out of the girl even more.

"Okay," he murmurs finally. "Thank you, Dorcas."

She flashes him a smile so kind it reminds him of his mum. "If anyone will know, it's Barty."

"I would have phoned him but I don't have his number."

"I know," Dorcas nods. "Come with me."

"Where—"

"The mess room," she replies, grabbing his arm. "You look a second away from a damn panic attack and I want you to sit down."

Dorcas barely allows him time to get his feet stable underneath him before she's practically dragging him like a naughty toddler to the staff locker room down the corridor.

The locker room is empty, and Dorcas hasn’t even closed the door behind them before the sound of a ringing phone fills the room. She shoves James down on the bench, sits beside him and holds her phone between them.

After five rings, Barty’s voice comes grating through the speaker.

"Dorcas, my lotus flower, what ever the reason for this engagement?"

She rolls her eyes at the greeting.

"Have you spoken to Reg?" Dorcas asks.

"Jealous of mine and Reggie's immaculate friendship, Cas?" Barty teases, oblivious to James practically choking on the worry tight in his throat. "Envy sounds good on you. Tell me what else I've got that you haven't."

"Barty, this is serious," Dorcas snaps.

There’s a beat of silence.

"What's happened?"

All the light-headedness and joking tone has slipped from Barty’s voice.

"He's not answering his phone, and apparently James hasn't heard from him since two in the morning yesterday," Dorcas explains. "James is here looking like a flappy swan because he can't get ahold of his lover-boy and now he's got me worried."

"Fucking hell!" Barty cackles. "Potter has done the impossible."

"Bartemius!" Dorcas snaps through gritted teeth.

"Kudos to you, Potter. It's an achievement to get the mighty cold-hearted Dorcas Meadows worried about anything apart from her eyeliner."

"Fuck you, Crouch! Next time we go on a night out, I'm going to toss red wine all over your vile Gucci white loafers."

Barty barks a laugh on the other end. "Jokes on you, Evan did that weeks ago by accident round Reggie's flat."

"Barty," James intervenes, because while he's normally amused by Regulus' friends ping-ponging with their brutal love-hate for one another, now is not the time. "Did you hear from Regulus yesterday."

"Nah," Barty replies easily. "Why? What's the fire for?"

"James said he's gone M.I.A since his last text early Wednesday morning," Dorcas answers.

"He's probably sleeping," Barty replies.

"Sleeping?" James echoes.

Dorcas side-eyes him. James feels a pinch in his gut at Barty's instant dismissal.

Did he really think James hadn't considered Regulus sleeping? Of course he has! The problem is that either Regulus has been sleeping since he left the hospital yesterday morning, or he went all day at home yesterday ghosting the entire world.

"Yeah," Barty replies. "Did he not tell you?"

"Tell me what?" James asks slowly.

"He did a 17 hour shift yesterday Wednesday night. Mary told Evan that apparently he started at 7:30 but didn't finish until like half 12 Thursday afternoon. Fucking mad. He probably went home and passed out before he could text anyone."

What.

The.

Fuck?

At Barty's words, James doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Laugh at the fact that Regulus is sleeping.

Laugh at the fact that he's gotten himself into such a state while Regulus is getting his beauty sleep.

Cry at the fact that after all that worry, Regulus is okay.

Cry at the fact that all the disturbing scenarios in his brain were a vicious fabrication of his brain.

All that, and Regulus is sleeping.

Sleeping after a ridiculous, eye watering, and frankly inhumane shift that was longer than lots people are awake during the day.

"He didn't text," James argues weakly, but the concern falls short even on his own ears. Regulus worked almost three quarters of 24 hours straight and James has caused all of this mayhem over the lack of welfare text. "He never does that."

Barty's laugh is loud and sudden down the phone. "Mate, he worked 97 hours in the last eight days, and his last shift was 17 hours long."

"Fuck sake, Reg," Dorcas mutters.

As if the 17 hour shift wasn't bad enough, it turns out that Regulus eight days in a row. James is concerned about something new now. Why would he be worried about Regulus being injured in a home invasion when he's his own danger to himself with his lack of self preservation. "He did what!?"

"I know. Mad bastard, right?" Barty cackles. "Look, he probably went home, showered, passed out in bed before he could text anyone and has slept so long he's caught up on 23 years of sleep deprivation."

James closes his eyes.

He can't believe it.

He has always prided himself in his ability to stay calm, to keep his head, to not blow the lid off small things.

Yet, here he is, standing in the neurology locker room with Dorcas on the phone to Barty, after he stormed in with the spiralling idea that Regulus was either ignoring him, hurt, or dead, all because he hasn't sent him the usual I'm alive text.

And after all of that, the cause is that he's probably sleeping.

Fucking great.

James is broken out of his monologue of self disbelief by a hand suddenly cuffing him sharply on the shoulder.

"Can't believe Regulus didn't reply to your texts for half a day and you've gone on a rampage!" Dorcas scolds, glaring at him.

"You were worried too!" James cries, subconsciously rubbing his arm where an ache from Dorcas' hand.

"You got in my head!" She hisses. "You made me panic with your big fucking scared puppy eyes and shaky chin like you were going to breakdown over my reception desk!"

"This is golden," Barty giggles through the phone.

"Shut up, Crouch!" Dorcas snaps.

Barty only laughs louder.

"I'm never letting either of you live this down," the prick promises. "He keeps a spare key underneath his doormat. Do us all a favour and go check the mad bastard is still alive?"

"Okay," James nods, rubbing his eyes angrily under his glasses. Fuck, he feels like a right twat now. "Okay. Thank you."

"He's gonna be real smug knowing he's made you panic so bad that you went into full mum-mode," Barty chuckles. "I can't believe you went into the ward!"

"He wasn't answering his phone!" James cries, throwing his hands up. "I was worried he was dead!"

"He's going to be dead when I'm done with him," Dorcas grumbles. "What made him over run so bad?"

"No clue, but 17 hours is pushing it even for our precious Reggie-kins," Barty replies. "Cas, give the sunshine bastard my number so he can update me on our princes' situation when he finds him tucked up in bed in an hour?"

"Fine," Dorcas replies.

"Love you!"

"Bye, Barty."

She ends the call before he can say anything else.

"Do you really think he could still be asleep?" James asks.

"I once slept for 14 hours after a night shift once," Dorcas shrugs. "Reg has a habit of running himself absolutely ragged. I wouldn't be surprised if he genuinely is still asleep even after all this time."

She hands him her phone, where Barty's contact number is. Wordlessly, shunned with surprise and guilt, James takes out his own phone and puts Barty’s number done.

Afterwards, he mutters sheepishly, "I’m sorry."

Dorcas meets his eyes, frowning. She shakes her head firmly.

"No need to be sorry, James. Embarrassed? Yes, you should be because this is hilarious and your pride must be so bruised right now, but don't be sorry," Dorcas replies. "It's actually quite nice to know Regulus has got someone else looking out for him, who goes as far as finding his friends and retracing his steps to make sure he's not hurt."

"Thanks," James sighs, shoulder slumping. "I don't even know why I got so hysterical."

"Because you love him," Dorcas shrugs. "You came close to losing him with the whole Sirius thing, and you're scared to lose him again. You didn't know why Regulus wasn't replying, and the reason why was something you couldn't control."

"I can't lose him again," James admits.

"He doesn't want to lose you too," Dorcas says. "Why do you think he took you back?"

James swallows thickly.

Truthfully, he doesn't know why Regulus allowed him or Sirius back into his life. James may have not personally been the person who abandoned him, but he played a part in taking Sirius away from him. After hearing everything Regulus went through, how his parents treated him, his suicide attempt at only 17, James can't help but feel like he's treating a broken heart. Regulus was really pushed to the edge, hurt in every way possible, and he should hate the world for that. He should have told James to fuck off the moment he found out that he was the best friend Sirius left him for. He should have demanded the two of them stay out of his life, after what he went through when Sirius ran away in the middle of the night.

Yet, he didn't.

He gave James the grace to stay, to keep holding him and loving him. He didn't shut him out, but instead he did the opposite. He let James in even more than he already was, confided him in things even his closest friends didn't know about, opened up about the past that he carried around for so long, all on his own. He shared his demons with James when asked, he showed James every part of him. The good, the bad, the ugly, the physical and the mental.

He gave James more than he deserved after being so damaged from it for nine years.

Beside him, Dorcas sighs.

"Look, James," she starts, "Regulus isn't a forgiving person. He very much believes that people only get one chance. He shouldn't have forgiven Sirius, but if he wanted to keep you, he had to do the one thing he never likes to do."

With trepidation, James braves asking, "What’s that?"

"Compromise his own happiness," Dorcas says, jaw tense suddenly. "Sirius ruined him. That house, those people, his family, they fucked him over. They don't deserve his forgiveness, but he's giving Sirius a chance because if he didn't, he'd lose you too. He doesn't want to make you choose because he's scared you'll choose Sirius. He's scared if he makes you choose, you'll hate him and walk away. He's scared that Sirius will win again, that his brother will once away walk away with everything Regulus deserves."

James’ heart beats rapidly in his chest. "He said that?"

"He didn't need to," Dorcas shakes her head, smiling almost sadly. "I've known Regulus long enough to know he's protective of his friends, that will move mountains for those he loves, and refuses to keep people in his life that bring him anything but happiness. His parents taught him that he only needs himself to survive, that once people show their true colours they can’t be trusted. Regulus has never valued himself on his company. He couldn’t care less if everyone in the world hated him, which is why he’s never afraid to say what he feels or thinks, why he doesn’t change himself to make other people happy. I sometimes thinks that he’s spent so long believing he belongs on his own that he doesn’t know what to do when it comes to keeping people around that don’t want to be there."

"I wouldn’t choose Sirius over Regulus."

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. It doesn't require any thought, any contemplation. He knows, truthfully, that Regulus doesn't need to be scared about that.

"Really?" She asks, disbelieving. "You wouldn’t choose the person you’ve known for eight months over the friend you’ve had for 14 years?"

"Not in this circumstance," James replies firmly. "If I was given the ultimatum tomorrow to pick between the two of them because they can’t be in the same room as each other, I wouldn’t pick Sirius."

The words feel like ash on his tongue, but at the same time, he doesn’t speak an ounce of a lie. He doesn’t know where the bravery to admit this aloud has come from.

"Would you pick Regulus?" Dorcas asks. "You say you wouldn’t pick Sirius, but would you choose Reg? Or would you walk away from them both?"

I don't want to walk away from either of them, James thinks.

"I don’t think I’ve truly forgiven Sirius for what he did," James admits quietly. "I think there will always be a part of me that doesn’t accept that he lied to me for so many years. I was the reason they were kept apart, and Sirius never gave me a chance to make it right for Regulus. I so badly want to be the bridge between the two of them, to help them both heal one another. But if I had to choose, I would choose Regulus. I think for once, he deserves to be chosen."

Dorcas is quiet as she clear takes her time digesting his words. Her eyes are hard, staring at James with an intensity sure to try and make him crack from it. James knows she's looking for the lie, for the weak link in the confession.

"I want to trust you, Potter," she sighs. "I really do."

"Not yet?"

"Not yet," she nods, smiling kindly. "I’m getting there, and keep saying stuff like that will help."

"I’ll keep proving it to you, to all of you," James promises. "I won’t let his family hurt him again."

"As long as you don’t hurt him in the mean time."

"Never again," James shakes his head. "I hurt him more than once, but never again."

"Give yourself some credit, Potter. The first time you hurt him, you didn’t even know he existed."

"Still," James denies. "Never again."

"Good," she smiles. "Now, go to his flat, confirm he’s alive, and get the fuck out of my ward."

James grins. "Your ward?"

"I'm warning you, Potter."

"Leaving!" James laughs, when he's at the door, he turns and smiles at the doctor again. "Thanks again, Dorcas."

"You're welcome," she smiles. "But, do be warned, we are never letting you live this down."

James sighs dramatically. "I wouldn't expect any different."

*

It's just after eight when James gets to Regulus' flat. As per Barty's words, he finds a key underneath the doormat. Making sure to make a mental note to speak to Regulus about the poor and dangerous place to keep a spare key to his flat, James lets himself in quietly.

Silence greets him. The winter clouds outside have cast a gloomy dimness over the city and it floods bleakly into the flat. The piles of books, slung blankets, draped potted plants face him with a warm sense of familiarity. He’s spent many days and nights in this flat, has found comfort and safety in it.

He’s made many coffees and teas in Regulus’ kitchen. He’s shared many kisses and touches on the sofa. He’s taken many showers and brushed his teeth in the bathroom. His clothes have been slung on the bedroom in haste of undress, or folded slowly without rush. He’s slept in the sheets, Regulus curled in his arms like a tiny ice cube slowly absorbing James’ own body heat.

The sight of the cat draped on the back of the sofa, stretched out but head craned and staring at him, reminds him of all the blood he’s lost from the little pricks claw scratches.

Sylvester hates him, and as much as Regulus finds it funny, James finds it highly alarming.

No animal has ever hated James, yet this cat absolutely resents him.

Bypassing the spawn of satan in feline form, James toes off his shoes and makes his way through the flat and down to the bedroom. The door is left ajar, barely open a sliver. James pushes the door open more, light flooding in front behind him. The curtains are closed, a curled lump clear beneath the duvet and blankets. Tip-toeing inside more, James peers up the top of the bed, and his heart positively melts.

Curled on his side, only half of his face visible, Regulus is sleeping. The majority of his hair are hidden inside the hood pulled up over his head, but a few stray and stubborn curls pop out and rest against the pillow by his forehead. His closed eyes mean his dark, long eyelashes are fanned and brushing the delicate skin under his eyes.

James has always found Regulus mesmerising to watch when he sleeps. No one would believe, with Regulus being who he is, that the younger man is an absolute fidgety octopus when he sleeps. He’s also insanely clingy to anyone in the bed with him, and James always finds himself with Regulus either curled into him seeking touch or the younger man wrapped around him like a koala.

Regulus spends a lot of his time awake looking very serious, angry, or as Barty often says, emotionally constipated. The first time James saw him asleep, he was addicted to the way all the lines in his face relaxed. Regulus managed to look so much younger when he slept, all soft and precious. Even when he’s slept with his face absolutely squished into James’ chest, he’s never seen anything more attractive.

Worry sated and heart filled, James creeps back out of the bedroom to leave Regulus to sleep.

Making his way back to the kitchen, James pulls out his phone to text Barty.

James (08:29) just got to reg's, he's asleep in bed. thank you for the key under the mat tip

Barty (08:42) not surprised. i spoke to pandora hours ago, apparently she went round last night because she needed her earrings. she let herself in when he didn't answer and found him on top of the covers in bed. fucking saddo actually moved him under the duvet and tucked him in

James’ eyes widen at the screen.

Pandora saw him last night?

He can’t even appreciate the gentle sentiment that Pandora actually tucked his boyfriend into bed when he was so exhausted he fell asleep on top of the bed. Instead, his mind is reeling that Barty forgot to mention this on the phone earlier.

James (08:43) would have been useful to know about 8 hours ago

Barty (08:47) sorry champ, it was more funny this way anyways :D

James (08:47) how long have you known that pandora saw him last night?

Barty (08:48) she text me last night to let me know he made it home alive without scraping his car

James (08:48) you're mean

Barty (08:48) cry me a river sunshine boy

Barty (08:50) if you want to continue your samaritan duties, do reg a solid and feed the cat. it gets grumpy when it’s hungry

The evil entity doesn’t need to be hungry to be angry, James thinks bitterly. He supposes feeding the thing might make him like James more.

After finding the cat food and putting enough in the bowl that he thinks will earn him brownie points with the animal, James puts down the bowl in it’s usual place. Sylvester hops off the sofa and dives right in, and James glares down at the cat and hopes the little bastard is grateful.

James is still watching Sylvester eat when he hears the sound of soft padded feet followed by a door shutting. Figuring Regulus is up, he quickly flicks the kettle on a grabs two mugs from the cupboard.

A minute later, he looks over his shoulder in time to see a sleepy, rumpled, and quite frankly, messy looking Regulus come shuffling into the kitchen. The younger man is rubbing his eyes, his hair a curly disaster on his head now his hood is down. He looks absolutely adorable in his sleep-rumpled sweats and oversized jumper.

When he spots James, his puffy eyes narrow and the already disorientated confusion on his face multiplies by tenfold.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, voice so husky and deep it causes all the blood to rush to his lower extremities.

Yet, James can’t help but grin.

"Good morning to you too, baby,"

The younger man looks severely unimpressed.

"Good morning, what are you doing here?"

"Checking you were still alive," James replies. "Did you enjoy your beauty sleep?"

Regulus grunts, rubbing his eyes again.

"Coffee?" James asks.

Regulus grunts again, dropping down on the bar stool round the other side of the island. James takes it as a yes and goes about putting coffee and milk in the cups while the kettle boils.

"Did you feed the cat?"

"Yeah," James says as he’s filling the mugs with water.

"I… I’m so confused," Regulus murmurs, and when James turns around to slide the freshly made mug in front of him, he asks, "Is it really nine am?"

"Afraid so," James replies.

"What day is it?"

"Friday," James answers. When Regulus continues to stare at the counter like it’s the encrypted code to curing cancer, James jokingly asks, "Did you do drugs last night or something?"

Regulus doesn’t humour him. He continues to look disoriented and lost. James figures he must have had a severely heavy sleep, because even when James has seen him pass out after shifts with him, Regulus has never woken up like this.

"I came over because I couldn’t get hold of you," James explains. "I got worried when I didn’t hear from you after your nightshift. Barty told me that you had a massive overrun, so I came over to make sure you hadn’t suffocated yourself in your sleep."

Regulus frowns at him. "I did text you."

"No, you didn’t."

"Yes I did," Regulus says again.

James shakes his head. "Reg, I promise you didn’t."

James can't imagine how much he's going to have to exaggerate that Regulus definitely did not text him, because if he had, none of the last 24 hours of spiralling would have happened.

James has checked, double and triple, his phone every hour to make sure a text hasn't slipped his notice. He heard nothing from Regulus since his text while he was still on the night shift.

Regulus did not text him. Though, James is now curious: Regulus isn't one to lie, and he seems pretty adamant right now that he did send a text last night.

"I did!" Regulus snaps again. He snatches his phone out of his sweatpants pocket, fingers tapping furiously. "Look, I sent—"

James blinks when Regulus cuts himself off. The younger mans eyes are glued to his phone, his previously tense jaw slacking.

"What?" James asks.

"I did send a text, I just didn’t send it to you," Regulus sighs, rubbing his nose and closing his eyes in exasperation. "I text my fucking neighbour instead."

James almost drops his mug in shock.

For a moment, neither of them say or do anything. Then, without meaning to, a loud laugh escapes James and then he can't stop. His stomach muscles pull as he laughs, finding it too funny that Regulus of all people sent the wrong text last night.

It only makes it funnier that it's to his neighbour.

At least they didn't have to wonder where Regulus was that night.

"Don’t fucking laugh," Regulus growls. "They must have been so confused!"

"What did you say?"

"Morning, just got home from a massive overrun. Probably going to pass out for a few hours but I’ll call when I wake up," Regulus closes his eyes and adds, deadpan, "With a shit tone of kisses."

"Did they reply?"

"Yes. They asked if I was okay and reminded me that they’re out of the country," Regulus grumbles. "This is the worst."

"I think it’s quite cute."

"James, they’re deaf!" Regulus barks. "I told my deaf neighbours that I’m going to call them!"

"Oh my god," James laughs, shaking his head. He rounds the kitchen island and comes up to Regulus’ side, running a hand over the younger mans hair softly. "It’s okay, you can blame it on the sleep deprivation. Which, by the way, 17 hour shifts? 97 hour weeks? Really, Reg?"

Regulus at least has the decency to drop his eyes to his mug again. "The overrun was hardly intentional."

"Still, you need to slow down, baby," James says softly. "You’re going to make yourself sick doing stuff like that."

"It’s only because of staffing this week," Regulus replies, looking up at him with huge eyes. "Plus, I’ve made up for it. I think I slept like 18 hours."

James’ eyes widen. "18 hours!? Fucking hell, Reg!"

"No wonder I feel like I’m on drugs," Regulus sighs. "I’ve overdosed on sleep."

"You’re insane," James laughs, curling an arm around his waist and pulling the smaller boy flush against him. "But I’m glad you’re okay."

"I’m okay," Regulus whispers.

He stands up, moving to full height. Cool hands cup James’ jaw, soft lips press against his gently. James barely lasts a few seconds before he hungrily kisses back, relishing in the feeling of Regulus’ smaller body pressed against his own.

"Wait," Regulus says, pulling back enough to look up at him. "Did you say you spoke to Barty?"

"Are you trying to distract me from giving you the kiss of life after you’ve woken up from your mini coma?"

"If you admit you’re trying to distract me from the fact that you spoke to Barty?"

"I spoke to Dorcas first, actually. When she couldn’t get hold of you, we both spoke to Barty," James admits. "I may or may not have thought your lack of texting meant something catastrophic had happened."

"You’re so pathetic," Regulus says, but he’s grinning from ear to ear. "Really. You’re embarrassing."

"And you’re alive, so I can live with the shame of being slightly dramatic," James quips.

"Slightly?"

"Okay. Fine. I spiralled," James admits, laughing. "I spiralled very badly and convinced myself something had happened so I went to the hospital—"

"You went to the hospital?"

"Yes, and I found Dorcas who got Barty to tell us that Evan was told you worked 17 hours so was probably sleeping instead of somewhere dead in a ditch," James finishes explaining. "He also decided to inform me after I’d come here to confirm your continued existence that Pandora knew you were here last night when she came in."

"She came here?"

"Apparently she needed her earrings," James shrugs. "She found you asleep and tucked you in like the surrogate mother she has become for you."

"You’re just jealous you don’t have a Pandora."

"I am, and I’m not ashamed to admit that."

"I can’t tell if I’m touched or horrified that you thought I was dead."

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t apologise," Regulus smiles, kissing him softly again. He whispers against his lips, "It’s quite cute, actually."

"You think?"

Regulus hums, "Very much so."

"Good, because I think your friends are going to endlessly me tease me about this."

"Oh, they definitely are."

He kisses him again, gentle and slow, and James just melts into it. He holds Regulus' waist, fingers tingling and slowly hooking on the waistband on his sweats. His skin is soft and warm, smooth beneath the pads of his fingers.

"Are you hungry?"

Regulus grins wolfishly, getting tugging on James' bottom lip between his teeth.

"Absolutely ravenous," he mutters, voice gravely.

James has to force himself not to drop to his knees and rip Regulus' joggers off him there and then.

"I meant for food," James corrects, tenderly running his fingers through Regulus' messy hair when the younger boy rolls his eyes. "When was the last time you ate?"

Regulus opens his mouth, but a clear look of contemplation covers his face. He's clearly thinking about it, and half a minute passes before James frowns.

"The time it’s taking you to remember is not reassuring," James chides, unimpressed. "Why don’t I order us some breakfast bagels while you shower?"

"Sounds perfect," Regulus smiles. "Thank you."

***

"We don’t have to do this."

"I know."

"Seriously, Reg. If you don’t want to do this, I won’t be upset."

"I know."

James steps away from the front door. "But—"

"James," Regulus sighs. "I know. No one is making me do this, I want to do it."

James' shoulders slump. He looks at his front door, the only thing keeping them separate from Sirius and Remus. On the other side, two of his oldest friends are waiting, after James confirmed that the plan was going ahead this morning when Regulus agreed to it once more.

Only now, James is having second thoughts.

He looks back at Regulus, who's standing a step behind him as if he was using James as a human shield for when he opens the door.

Regulus has scrubbed up well. Not that he never does, but after the disheveled state James found him in his morning it's a delicious sight to see him with his neat curls, dressed in a slim fit green button down and black jeans that hug all the right places.

Regulus has been quiet about the arrangement all day. James hasn't pressed him for it, allowing Regulus to take his time to either say something or to come to terms with what he's agreed too. Regulus hasn't moaned once, hasn't given James any grief, but he also hasn't been jumping with excitement. James supposes he can't blame him for that, but now, James feels riddled with guilt at the idea that he's once again forced Regulus to do something he doesn't want to do.

Regulus and Sirius haven't spoken since their first confrontation just over three weeks ago. Sure, Regulus has opened up to James a lot more since, talking about his past and his feelings with Sirius. He's confided in James in so many ways that James now feels like he's throwing it all back in the younger man's face.

And yet, here Regulus is, showered and fresh faced, standing with James and saying he wants do to this.

"But… why?" James asks.

Regulus sighs, though it doesn't sound annoyed or exasperated. It sounds tired, heavy, as if the question holds a physical weight to it.

"Because I want to be a part of your life, and so does he. The only way for me to keep this is to try to do things with him," Regulus says, shrugging. "You suggested this, so you clearly want to give it a go. The way I figure it, is if I do this for you, and it goes as badly as I’m assuming it does, then I won’t be asked again and I haven’t upset you in the process."

"It’s dinner with Sirius and Remus," James frowns. "I’m not expecting it to go like high tea with the Queen."

"Good," Regulus grins. "Because this is going to be the worst dinner of your life."

James laughs, feeling lighter now. He doesn't even feel slightly peeved about Regulus' verbal admission about how the younger man is going to use this as leverage against Sirius when it all goes wrong. Ulterior motives or not, Regulus is still willing to walk into the lions den for James.

"Okay," James smiles. He reaches and grabs Regulus' hand, gently tugging him close. He kisses him quickly, then says, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Regulus warns.

"This evening can turn out to be a disaster and I'll still thank you, because you're trying," James replies.

"For you," Regulus says. "Only for you."

"Good enough," James grins, kissing him quickly again. "Shall we?"

Regulus nods.

James lets go and grabs the shopping bags he'd put down on the floor when he began to second guess this whole thing, then before he can talk himself out of it again, he unlocks the door and steps inside.

Silence greets them. There is no chatter, no aroma of cooking food. Nothing.

The flat is empty.

James stops short just beyond the door, frowning.

"Pads?" He calls. "Moons?"

Nothing.

"They not here?" Regulus asks, closing the door behind him.

James walks further into the flat, only finding empty space. He glances into Sirius’ bedroom, the door already open. There’s no sound of the shower running, the bathroom door also agar.

"No," James frowns. "They should be though. Sirius said he was finishing work at five."

"Give them a call," Regulus says. "I’ll put everything in the kitchen."

James nods, pulling out his phone as Regulus takes the bags and puts them on the counter top.

Remus answers after the third ring.

"Moony, where are you guys?"

"Sirius' last client ran over time. He's just finishing up now."

James can’t stop himself from sighing heavily. "We agreed six o'clock."

"I know, I'm sorry, mate," Remus replies, sounding genuine and a little annoyed. "Blame Pads, he's the one—"

"Do not blame me!" Sirius’ shout comes from away from the phone.

"You're the one who has only just finished work!" Remus snaps. Then, "Sorry, Prongs. We're leaving now. We won't be longer than half an hour."

"It's fine," James says. It’s not, but there’s no point causing a scene. He doesn’t want to give Regulus any further ammunition against his brother if he knows it’s upset James. "I’ll get started on dinner. It'll hopefully be in the oven before you get here. What did you guys buy to cook?"

"Spanish chicken."

"Okay. I can cook that."

James is probably going to have to google for a recipe, but surely it can be that hard.

"Sounds dangerous, Prongs. You're not the best with chicken."

"I don't appropriate the lack of faith coming from the two people who are currently running late!"

"Sorry, Prongs! We won't be long!"

"I can't believe you guys," James grumbles again, shaking his head. "See you soon."

Regulus comes slowly towards him when he hangs up the phone.

"They running late?"

"Yeah," James sighs, rubbing his face angrily as he walks over to the shorter man.

Regulus nods. Then, he flashes James a small smile, "Guess we’re cooking then."

"No," James shakes his head. "You’re the guest. I’ll cook."

"James—"

"Grab the wine," James instructs softly, cupping Regulus’ face and kissing his forehead. "Take a seat and relax. They bought stuff for Spanish chicken."

"Do you know how to make Spanish chicken?"

"No, but I’m sure they’re is a recipe on Google."

"I can help," Regulus argues.

"Really, Reg—"

"I know how to make Spanish chicken, James. Let me help," Regulus says. Then, his eyes become slightly hooded as he looks up at James, "I can help with something else too."

James’ brain comes to a skidding halt.

"Huh?"

"You look like you need to relax too."

Liking where this is going, James grins, "Is that so?"

"I think so," Regulus nods. "And, if they’re running late, then we have time."

"Are we both thinking about the same thing?"

Regulus tilts his head, smirking. Then, he rises on his toes, moving his lips to James’ ear. He grazes James’ ear lobe with his teeth slowly, torturing, and then whispers, "I think we are, mon amour (my love)."

Excitement pools in James’ stomach rapidly. Suddenly extremely turned on, he grabs the back of Regulus’ laps, just below his ass, and swiftly lifts him into the air. Regulus’ legs go around his waist, arms around his neck and hands curling into his hair.

James kisses him once, not giving them anymore time before he’s carrying Regulus to his bedroom.

Afterwards, they have to share a quick shower with the self-control to not go for another round when they’re both naked, wet and covered in soap.

James gets started on the cooking while Regulus pours them both a glass of wine, but the sight of James brutally hacking at the vegetables in attempt to 'slice' them has Regulus shoving him to the other side of the kitchen to deal with the chicken instead.

They’ve barely been prepping for five minutes when the front door opens.

"We’re here!" Remus’ voice carries through.

The front door shuts, followed by some shuffling.

"It doesn’t smell like cooking food in here!"

James rolls his eyes. "That better not be coming from someone who is half an hour late to the meal they said they were going to cook."

"Ignore him, Prongs," Remus says as he comes into view, looking tired but smiling at them. "Hey, Regulus."

Regulus’ head pops up from where he’s cutting the vegetables. "Hi."

"You both okay?" Remus asks. When they both nod, he gestures towards the kitchen, "Relieved to see you helping with the cooking, Regulus."

"Oh, he's helping in every department this evening," James grins cheekily.

"Not in the kitchen, please," Remus grimaces.

"Hey! That's not fair! I walked in on you guys doing it in here a bunch of times!"

Regulus' hands automatically recoil from the kitchen side.

"That is extremely unsanitary."

"Don't tell me you've never taken your clothes off in the kitchen together."

"Oh, we have,"

"It's just the thought of someone else doing it that's repulsive."

"Can we not talk about sex between my best friend and my brother?" Sirius asks as he comes slandering up to the kitchen bar.

James goes to laugh until he notices the tick in Regulus' jaw. Suddenly dawning a realisation, he remembers how many times Sirius has called James his brother instead of Regulus. Yet now, as if nothing has happened, Sirius is back to calling Regulus that. 

"Just to clarify, we haven't done anything in the kitchen today," James says, trying to bulldoze over whatever may have made Regulus tense up. "The kitchen is completely sanitary and we are going to serve you up the best Spanish chicken you've ever eaten."

Remus smiles. "Perfect. Is the wine to share?"

"Yeah," James nods, and while Remus grabs two more glasses, Sirius drops down on the stool and watches them.

"I didn't know you could cook," Sirius says.

"You don't know a lot of things about me," Regulus replies, not looking up from the onion he's dicing.

"Sirius," Remus adds warningly, as he slides a wine glass to him.

"I didn’t—" Sirius cuts himself off with a huff, throwing his arms up. "I just meant, I could never imagine you cooking."

Regulus scoffs. "Wow, much better, Sirius,"

"Stop taking offence! It's a compliment!"

"Still waiting for this so called 'compliment'."

Sirius rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, but he promptly shuts it when Remus lays a hand on his shoulder. James flashes him a grateful look, to which the older boy winks at him.

"Where did you learn to cook?" Remus asks.

"Mostly from Pandora's mum," Regulus replies, eyes down at the peppers he's slicing ridiculously perfectly. "She taught me a lot in my first year of uni. Me, Barty and Evan would have probably starved without her."

Remus nods, "Brave woman, teaching the three of you to cook."

"Bravest woman I know," Regulus says, smiling. James recognises the sign of something bittersweet in the way he calls her brave. "She truly did have her work cut out for her too. Three boys who'd never cooked a single meal in their life? It's a wonder we managed to survive the first four months without her."

"That's lovely," Remus smiles. "At least you ate well while you were studying. These two and Peter only consumed pizza and microwave noodles when they were at uni."

"Hey!" James cries. "I cooked!"

"No, you tried to cook," Remus corrects, "and then Peter would attempt to salvage it, but the man is a baker and not a cook, so all the food ended up being thrown away."

"Still," James grumbles. "I cooked!"

"What am I helping for then?" Regulus asks.

"Because we want something edible," Remus says. "Regulus, please, don't leave him to do this."

James huffs loudly, offended. "So mean."

"It's okay," Regulus smirks, clearly enjoying the grilling James is getting. "I'd rather help. I value my digestive system too much to trust your cooking again."

"Again?" Remus grins.

"Last week he tried to cook us both sweet and sour chicken after I finished work. It's insanely simple if you have the jar of sauce, which he did! All he had to do was cook the chicken, fry the peppers and onions, then add the sauce while the rice is cooking. Simple, no?"

"That's fairly simple, James," Remus agrees. "I'm guessing he messed up?"

Regulus scoffs, shaking his head. "I had to throw the saucepan away because the rice was cremated against the base. The chicken was undercooked and half the sauce wasn't even in the pot by the end of the cooking."

"But I cut the peppers into the shapes of stars! Which, you have to admit, is pretty talented."

"Yes, James, it takes a special kind of talent to destroy my kitchen with a pan of sauce and rice."

"It wasn't ruined!"

"You set the fire alarm off and it took us an hour to clean up," Regulus glares. "An hour, we still didn't have any dinner and I was a saucepan down."

James pouts. "I bought you a new one."

"What a gentleman!" Sirius cheers.

"Quiet, Sirius," Remus chides. "You can't cook either."

"I've survived this long without being able to, and I will survive the rest of my days the same!"

Remus rolls his eyes. "You rely too much on Effie."

"Damn right," Sirius grins. "Mama Potter loves to feed me."

James see's Regulus' body tense, his shoulders and spine turning ramrod. The knife in his hand jolts, fingers clenching round the handle for a second.

As quick as it came, it's gone. Regulus' hand loosens a fraction and he continues cutting, the tension in his jaw easing. The sharp line of his shoulder stays the same, and his downcast eyes are a tale sign that Sirius' small mention of James' mother feeding him has hit a nerve with Regulus.

James slides up to Regulus, placing a hand on the small of his back. Instantly, the silent act of reassurance works, and Regulus' shoulders slump slightly. He looks up, face slightly contorted with frown lines and jaw still tight.

"You okay?" James murmurs, which feels like a futile question, but he needs to ask. He needs to give Regulus the olive branch to say if he's not.

Unsurprisingly, Regulus nods. "I'm okay."

James doesn't believe him, but then his jaw slackens and he flashes James a small smile, so he forces himself to let it go.

"The peppers and onions are ready. You finished the chorizo?"

James nods.

"Okay. Grab a frying pan and we can start frying it all."

Sirius departs while they fry the vegetables until their soft. Regulus then stirs in the spices before methodically placing it all in a pot with the chicken to put into the oven. While it’s cooking, they move into the living room to continue drinking wine. The time waiting for the food is spent with Remus sharing stories of their time during freshers night out escapades in their first year of university. Sirius is still absent in the shower when the timer goes off and they start setting up. Remus and James set the table and refill the wine glasses while Regulus loads up the plates.

"Hurry up, Pads!" James shouts, "Food’s ready!"

Surprisingly, they’re only just sitting down when Sirius reappears. He’s freshly washed, hair dry, and dressed in completely opposite dinner attire. James sees Regulus roll his eyes at the ripped jeans and band tee that Sirius is sporting.

"Looks amazing, guys," Remus says.

"Thank you," James grins, giving Regulus’ hand a squeeze under the table.

Regulus glances at him, flashing him a small smile. James just hopes the good spirits can keep up while they’re all sitting round the table. Regulus seemed comfortably relaxed while they were waiting for the food to cook, slowly melting into James’ side on the sofa and enjoying the embarrassing tales Remus had to share of their times at university. Now, he’s taunt and tense at the table, shoulders stiff and mouth in a sharp line on his face.

James has barely finished a forkful of food before the table is erupted with a loud noise.

"Oh sweet baby Jesus!" Sirius moans loudly around a mouthful of chicken and vegetables. "This is amazing!"

"It is lovely," Remus agrees, then he frowns. "Eat with your mouth closed, Sirius. You’re not a fucking animal."

Sirius moans again. "It’s just so good!"

"I think we impressed them," James whispers to Regulus, who smirks in response.

"Are you surprised?" Regulus asks, teasingly. "I clearly missed my calling as a chef."

"Maybe you’re just good at everything," James murmurs, enjoying the way that Regulus’ cheeks blush slightly.

Chest warm and heart full, James turns back to the meal and takes his time enjoying the truly lovely meal.

"Oh, by the way," Sirius says suddenly, putting his fork down. "I can’t do tennis next Tuesday,"

James’ head snaps up. "What? Why?"

"I have a client who can only do Tuesday’s, so we’re going to have to swap our tennis days," Sirius explains.

"Blasphemy!" James gasps overly dramatically. When Sirius rolls his eyes playfully, James grins and asks, "What other day can you do then?"

"Saturday?" Sirius suggests.

James nods. "Should be fine. We’ll have to check with Pete though."

"I’ll let him know," Sirius nods.

"This a big client?"

"Huge, man," Sirius grins. "It’s going to take the whole day. Potentially two, but they’ll have to come back the next Tuesday if they do."

James whistles in sympathy. "The whole day?"

"Considering they’ve been having you design it for two weeks lets hope they can sit through it for that long," Remus comments.

"It’ll be fine," Sirius shrugs. "I have a hunch they’ll be a champ with it."

James grins. "Gut feeling?"

Sirius winks. "Gut feeling."

Remus smiles kindly at Regulus, who’s been quietly eating while the three of them have been talking about Sirius’ work.

"Sirius is always good at having a hunch when it comes to the clients that will be able to sit through long tattoos or not," Remus explains, and Regulus nods in reply.

"Haven’t got it wrong yet," Sirius smirks.

"You must be very good," Regulus says, and while James is impressed with the kind words, he internally winces at the hint of boredom in Regulus’ tone.

Sirius’ jaw twitches slightly, proving to James that it was more obvious than he’d hoped.

"The best," Sirius replies. "I wouldn’t have bookings for the next six months if I wasn’t, would I?"

James meets Remus’ eyes over the table, noticing a sudden shift in the atmosphere round the table.

"Of course," Regulus mutters lowly. "It’s always important to do something you’re good at and enjoy."

"Exactly," Sirius nods. "Surprised by my job choice?"

"Not in the slightest," Regulus shrugs. "If I had to place bets, it would have been between a striper, a failed rockstar, or a tattoo artist."

Sirius grins. "Thanks!"

"That wasn’t a compliment," Regulus deadpans, sounding so serious it has James swallowing down a laugh.

"Sounded like one to me," Sirius shrugs easily. "You think I’m hot enough to be a striper, cool enough to be a rockstar, or artistic enough to be a tattoo artist."

"I meant it more as you’re a disappointment."

Sirius shrugs again, seemingly enjoying this. "Anything to impress our dearest mother and father."

At the mention of them, James feels the temperature in the room drop.

"You chose that job purely to disappoint a person you don’t plan on ever having back in your life?" Regulus asks mockingly. "I hardly believe she would be affected by your job choice considering you disappointed her enough before you even left."

"Fuck you, Regulus," Sirius mutters harshly, glaring heatedly.

Suddenly, it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. James breaks out into a sudden cold sweat, and he see’s Remus’ hand freeze with his cutlery where he’s been trying to continue eating and the moment between the Black brothers pass.

"What?" Regulus asks coldly. "You made it your entire fucking goal living in that house to do everything possible to rile them up and disappoint them."

"I could have shit gold bricks and married a fucking queen and they would still think I’m a disappointment," Sirius hisses. "Nothing I did was ever good enough for them, nor will it ever be. What was the point in trying? I wasn’t you, Regulus. I wasn’t their fucking golden child or their fucking slave."

"You’re barking up the wrong tree, brother," Regulus spits the word like it’s a bug in it’s mouth. "You need to get off your high horse if you believe I was the golden child."

"You fucking were!" Sirius shouts. "They fucking loved you!"

"They didn’t know the meaning of love!" Regulus roars, shouting louder than James has ever heard him shout. "What part of kicking your kid down the stairs or locking them in a cupboard for days on end means love to you?"

James’ heart clenches painfully. Regulus sounds angry, but James can see in his face that this entire explosion has cut him painfully on the inside. Unable to resist, he reaches on top of the table and takes Regulus’ hand, giving it a squeeze in a way that gives the younger man a sense of silent comfort and reassurance.

James looks at Sirius, seeing the previously angry expression on his friends face gone, instead replaced with a sadness. This entire conversation spiralled so fast James is sure that everyone is feeling the same shock as him.

"This is pointless," Regulus laughs, cold and cruel and broken. "You will never stop being the victim, Sirius. You think you had it worse? You didn’t even see them at their worst. Their worst came after you bailed out. Turns out they hit ten times harder when they’ve only got one target."

The blood seems to drain from Sirius’ face, making him look ill. "Reg—"

"You never had to deal with them alone, Sirius. You might believe you did when you weren’t talking to me, but believe me when I assure you that after they locked you away, they were still fucking angry. While you were away nursing your wounds in your room, you think they didn’t turn their anger on me? You think they didn’t hurt me to make sure I didn’t follow in your footsteps. You were used as an example, but they had to make sure the physical marks set the demands in stone."

James can’t help but flinch at Regulus’ words, and he sees Sirius and Remus do the same. Hearing Regulus speak so coldly, so clear cut about what he went through before and after Sirius left, what he went through alone and kept to himself for so long, hurts James like a physical blow. It’s moments like this that James is reminded that Sirius had James, Remus, Peter, even their shared families to lean on during and after this. While it doesn’t make Sirius’ own abuse any less, it hurts to know that Regulus didn’t have the same support, the same escape.

"Lets calm down, guys," James says softly, placatingly, desperately. "I know you guys are still angry at each other, but this isn’t helping."

"Let them talk, Prongs," Remus counters softly, surprising James. "I know it’s horrible, but if they need to get it off their chest, let them."

James frowns. "But—"

"They’ve got nine years of anger to get through," Remus reminds him softly. "They might be shouting, but in a weird way, this is progress."

Regulus sighs, breath sounding wobbly. James feels crushed, because he doesn’t want Regulus to be hurting or upset. He doesn’t want the two brothers going for each others throats, doesn’t want them hurting it each other further. They’ve had enough pain to last five life times, they don’t need to cause each other more now.

"It’s not a competition," Sirius argues weakly, looking guilty and ruined.

Of course it’s not a competition, James wants to argue too, but it’s horrible to see after so long of finding comfort in knowing James got Sirius out of that place, that there was someone left to deal with it alone.

Regulus purses his lips and nods. "No, it’s not a competition. I don’t enjoy playing Top-Trumps when it comes to comparing who got hit worse, but you need to stop pretending I didn’t live in that house too."

"I know, and I’m sorry," Sirius nods gravely. "But, I didn’t become a tattoo artist to disappoint them. I enjoy it, and I’m good at it. Knowing they wouldn’t approve is just a perk," Sirius takes a greedy gulp of wine, draining his glass. Then, he adds, "And no, I don’t imagine they’ll ever find out. But if they did, I’d rather enjoy seeing the shock on their faces when they do."

"Lets not jinx it, shall we?" Remus smiles. "You’ve both managed this long away from them, don’t tempt fate."

"At least you’re too old now for Walburga to cut your hair again," Regulus says, and if it wasn’t for the playful smirk on his face now, James would be worried it’ll kick off again.

"She loved doing that, didn’t she?" Sirius replies, also smiling now.

"I think she loved it more when you cried."

"She always caught my ears!"

"That’s because you were always moving!"

Sirius pouts, scooping a forkful of food in his mouth again. "I wanted cool rockstar hair."

"It did look awful."

"It did not!" Sirius cries. "It’s what my hair looks like now!"

"Yeah," Regulus nods. "Awful."

James chuckles into his wine when he sees Sirius’ shocked and insulted expression. He gets up to grab another bottle of wine, and when he comes back, he refills everyones glasses before sitting back down.

"So, why did you become a doctor, Regulus?" Remus asks.

Regulus seems surprised by the question. It’s a moment before he answers, clearly thinking about the answer.

"Honestly," he says finally, "I don’t really know."

"No?" Remus asks, eyebrows raised. "It wasn’t some calling you’ve always had?"

Regulus shakes his head. "Not really. I knew I didn’t want to be a lawyer like Orion always pushed for. When I moved to Edinburgh, I knew I had to find something to change onto. I guess a part of me wanted to choose a career that would disappoint them, just to spite them if they ever found out, but the larger part of me figured it would be an enormous waste of time. Not going into law and disappearing was disappointing enough, there was no point sabotaging the rest of my life as well. I think I wanted to actually do something amazing so I could prove to myself I could, that I didn’t need them. Becoming a doctor was just a impulsive decision to be honest, just to get me off the law course and out of Edinburgh. I guess it was just pot luck that I enjoy it and I’m good at it."

"Very good at it," James adds, just because he enjoys the way Regulus’ cheeks blush at the compliment.

"It was a good impulsive decision," Remus adds, voice soft and honest and fuck, James loves him for that. "It was clearly a calling for you, Regulus, even if you didn’t intend for it to be."

Regulus narrows his eyes. "You’re only saying that because you know if you don’t, my already abysmal bedside manner would be even worse."

"Well, yes but also, because apart from Effie of course," Remus pauses to wink at James, "you’re the best doctor I’d want at my bedside."

"Cute," Regulus smirks. "Keep going. Maybe if you give me enough compliments, I can make sure you get meals from the cafe instead of from the hospital caterers."

"Is that a genuine offer?" Remus laughs. "Because those meals are fucking rancid."

Regulus laughs and nods, "If we make the experience too nice you wouldn’t want to leave. Serving bad food is the best way to get patients to fuck off."

"Aaaaand that is the Doctor Black everyone knows and loves," Remus grins.

Somehow, the rest of the meal goes smoothly. After they finish eating, Remus and Sirius wash up as they bailed on cooking, so James takes Regulus to the fire escape window for a smoke to check he’s okay.

"You okay, baby?" He asks, leaning forward enough to wrap an arm around the smaller mans shoulders.

Regulus leans into him easily, head resting on his shoulder. James can’t resist pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Yeah," Regulus replies quietly. "Sorry about blowing up at dinner."

"It’s okay," James assures him. "It was going to happen. I actually think it wasn’t as bad as it could have been."

Regulus chuckles, "Very true."

"As long as you’re okay."

Regulus rolls his head back and looks up at him.

"I’m okay," he murmurs.

In the low light, James can’t help but think he looks beautiful. His curl fall perfectly, dark and stark against the milky skin of his face. His grey eyes are practically sparking, like molten silver and diamonds.

James can’t resist kissing him, slow and tender. He feels Regulus instantly relax against him, lips moving with his and drawing him in and in and in. James is pretty sure kissing Regulus is more addictive than any drug in the world. James spends so much time thinking about, craving it, looking forward to it. Whenever Regulus is close, James can barely hold himself back from completely devouring him, tasting him.

"Prongs?"

Breaking away with a groan, James looks over his shoulder at Sirius walking towards them.

"What?" He asks, slightly annoyed they’d been interrupted.

"You got any smokes to share?"

"No," James replies.

Sirius pouts as he sits down. "Reg?"

"You can have one," Regulus says, handing him a single stick out of the box.

Sirius takes it with a nod of thanks. After he’s lit it, he asks, "What kind of a doctor smokes?"

"The overworked kind."

"Cry me a river."

"Boys," James chides softly.

"You two look cosy," Sirius grins.

"We were, until you turned up," Regulus replies with a glare.

"It’s my flat, bitch."

"Shared!" James cries. "It’s our flat."

Sirius grins as he exhales a cloud of smoke out the window.

"Where’s Moons?" James asks.

"Drying up still," Sirius replies. "I washed, he dried, so he’s still slaving away at the sink."

James nods. He gets up to go to the toilet, giving Regulus a comforting squeeze before he goes.

When he comes back out, he hears Sirius and Regulus talking. The fact they’re not shouting has James’ heart leaping with glee. He leans against the dividing wall, hidden so they can’t see him.

"You have a motorbike?" Regulus asks.

"She’s my baby," Sirius replies, and James knows his friend is likely grinning like an idiot.

Regulus scoffs. "You are the biggest cliche I’ve ever met."

"Excuse me?!" Sirius gasps.

"Leather jacket? Motorbike? Sleeves of tattoos? Long black hair and poorly done eyeliner?" Regulus barks a single laugh. "I can literally see 'DNA doesn’t make a family' written on your forearm, Sirius. You couldn’t be anymore of a cliche teenage runaway if you tried."

"Hey! That quote is true!" Sirius cries indignantly.

"Actually, that quote is factually incorrect, but nice try, Terminator."

"You’re insufferable."

"And you’re clearly stupid."

James smirks, but then almost jumps 10 feet in the air when Remus appears behind him.

"Prongs?" He’s frowning down at him, "What are you—"

"Shh!" James hisses, flapping his hands rapidly, putting his finger to his lips. "I’m listening."

"To wha—" Remus’ face drops from confused to deadpan. "Prongs, are you eavesdropping on Regulus and—"

James grumbles quietly. "Yes! Yes! Shut up!"

"Why?" Remus asks slowly.

"Because they seem to finally be talking without ripping each others heads off and I want to make sure they’re okay," James whispers.

Remus raises an eyebrow. "The real reason?"

"I’m nosey as fuck and want to know what they’re talking about that doesn’t involve shouting," James confesses, he slides down onto the floor, deciding that he’s going to listen now to see what else is said whether Remus likes it or not. "Now, either shut up and listen with me or piss off."

Remus rolls his eyes, sitting down beside him.

"How’s it going?" He asks.

James shrugs. "Not a lot yet."

"How underwhelming."

"It’s probably best with their track record."

"True."

There’s a beat on silence in the flat. James listens with intent and he notices Remus practically leaving forward to hear what’s said next.

"I still hate you," Regulus says.

James can’t help but wince, worried now that the evening is going to go south again.

"I still hate you too," Sirius replies easily, surprisingly not sounding offended or angry at all. "But we’re the only family we’ve got."

"You’re not all I’ve got."

Sirius scoffs. "When you say shit like that I don’t understand why I missed you."

"You didn’t miss me, Sirius," Regulus replies.

"I did," Sirius whispers, sounding as crushed as James feels after hearing Regulus say that. "I did, Reg. All the time. I always missed you, but I forced myself to hate the last memory of you."

"I don’t have to force myself to hate the last memory of you," Regulus says. "You left me in a house that was never a home. I hate you for that."

"I know. I hate myself for it too."

"Doesn’t matter now."

"No?" Sirius replies, sounding unsure.

"Of course not. We both got out, and after all of it, I came out the best out of the two of us."

"Oh yeah?" Sirius laughs. "How’d you figure that?"

"You draw on peoples skin for a living. I save lives."

Sirius’ laugh is easy and loud. "Tomato, potato."

"That’s not how the saying goes,"

"Don’t care," Sirius replies. "You’re not better than me."

"I am. More successful too."

"Fuck off."

"What’s your salary, big brother?"

"Shut up," Sirius grumbles. "We’re not playing that game."

"Still a sore loser I see."

"Still a little twat I see."

"Not so little anymore."

"You’re like five foot five."

"That is not little."

"Below average."

"Might be in height, but not in other things."

"What— ew!" Sirius cries, making gagging noises that has James having to cover his mouth to stop laughing. "Stop it! Fuck sake!"

Regulus just chuckles, "Did expect you to be such a prude."

"Give me another one of those," Sirius demands, and James assumes they’re talking about the cigarettes.

"They’re mine."

"You won’t smoke them all," Sirius whines.

"I might."

"You won’t, now give me one."

There’s another beat of silence, followed by the familiar faint sound of a lighter clicking.

"I’m glad you met James," Sirius says eventually.

At the direct mention of his name, James tenses. He looks up to find Remus already looking at him.

Waiting for Regulus’ reply feels like a decade.

"Me too," the younger boy eventually says.

"He’s good."

"He is," Regulus murmurs. "Sometimes I think he’s too good."

"For you?"

There’s another moment of silence.

"I used to think the same. All the time, I was worried that he’d realise I was too exhausting, that his patience and kindness would eventually run out," Sirius explains. "It never did. He’s got a heart the size of the fucking Atlantic."

Regulus sighs loudly. "I don’t want to ruin it. With a heart that big, it’ll be impossible to fix if I break it."

"Do you plan on breaking it?"

"No!" Regulus replies quickly, and James can’t help but smile at the determination and certainty in his voice. "Of course not. I just…"

They both hear Sirius sigh loudly.

"We’re not cursed, Regulus."

"I think we are," Regulus confesses, sounding so heavy and defeated that James wants to get up there and then and go out and hug him. He wants to hug him so hard that he squeezes all the self hatred out of him, then he wants to wrap him in the thickest, fluffiest blanket and protect him from the world for the rest of his life.

"We’re not. I used to think it all the time, that the blood in my veins destines me to always be unhappy, to always ruin things. We’re not our parents, Reg. James might have a huge heart, but he’s not foolish who he gives it to. His generosity and kindness only goes so far, but for the people he loves, he’ll move mountains and rivers."

"I don’t deserve the kindness after what I’ve put him through," Regulus says.

You do, James thinks, dying to shout it out loud. You do, baby.

"Believe me, you haven’t been that bad," Sirius replies. "Yeah, you’ve bailed on him twice, but you’re a Black. We’re good at running away."

"Fuck you," Regulus growls.

"You’re more like me than you think."

"I am not."

Sirius laughs, "Nah, you’re not. I’m the far better brother."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

There’s a sound of shuffling.

"Where are you going?" Sirius asks.

"Away," Regulus replies. "I’ve reached my limit of being around you."

Simultaneously, James and Remus’ heads snap up, their wide eyes meeting in panic.

"Shit!" James hisses, scrambling to his feet.

"Move, move!" Remus whispers as he stands up quickly.

James is already rushing back to the kitchen, rapidly finding something to look busy.

"What?" Sirius cries behind them. "That’s rude!"

"You’re annoying me."

"Fuck you, Reg!"

James has barely gathered his thoughts by the time Regulus comes strolling further into the flat. James is half way through pouring him, Remus and Reg another glass of wine when Regulus appears.

"Remus, go and entertain your boyfriend please," Regulus says.

Remus nods, grinning as he pushes himself off the kitchen side. "Easy done."

"Keep it PG!" James says.

Remus just winks over his shoulder before he disappears round the corner.

James looks at Regulus, handing him a glass of wine. "You okay?"

Regulus nods, flashing him a tired smile. He takes the wine with a soft thank you before he’s putting it down. He steps towards James, pressing against his chest and wrapping his arms around his waist in a loose, gentle hug. James doesn’t hesitate to pull him closer, practically crushing him against his chest and looping own arms around Regulus’ shoulder and back. He presses his face into Regulus’ hair, breathing in the familiar smell of his spicy orange shampoo.

James just holds him. They stay like that, wrapped around one another, sated and content. James can feel Regulus relaxing into him, the tension in his shoulders loosening like warm butter.

He feels his heart swell when he holds Regulus, overwhelmed with how amazing the younger man is. As a doctor, as a person, as a friend, Regulus is above the rest. James feels so lucky. Regulus came into his life so randomly, and despite almost losing him twice, James is forever grateful for Regulus’ resilience, forgiveness and stubbornness that has kept them together. From being a stranger to relationships and commitment, overcoming it so he could stay with James and put his trust in him, then with Sirius, and having his whole world shattered. Regulus has always been more in his right to leave, to walk away and never speak to James again. Yet, overcoming hurdle after hurdle, Regulus hasn’t allowed himself to run to the familiar safety of isolation, and instead, he’s taken the hurt and the pain with both hands and walked right through it. James could cry at how strong the younger man is, how unbroken and undefeated he is.

James presses a kiss into Regulus’ hair, tightening his arms around the smaller man.

"I love you," he whispers.

Regulus tenses against him. His body comes as taut as a bow string pulled back and ready to launch.

James’ heart stutters in his chest. That’s the first time he’s said it, either of them have said it.

Suddenly, he feels a sinking depression in his stomach.

Regulus pulls back slightly, arms still wound tight around James’ waist, but leaning back enough that he can look up. His eyes are wide, the rings of grey suddenly endless. He blinks up at James, once and then twice.

"I’m sorry," James breathes. "I—"

"You do?"

The question is so fragile, so shattering, that James feels himself wilt and crumble.

How could Regulus ever doubt? How could be ever believe that James doesn’t love him with every fragment and cell and atom of his body?

James nods. "I do. I really, really do."

Regulus opens his mouth, but only a shaky breath escapes.

James smiles at him, desperate to reassure him he doesn’t have to say it back.

"It’s okay," he says, ducking his head down so their foreheads are pressed together. "It’s okay, Reg, you don’t—"

"I love you too."

James stops breathing. His heart stops beating. The world around him stops turning.

He exhales shakily, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

A pair of soft lips press against his own, slow and sensual. James opens his eyes, vision blurred from how close they are, but he can see Regulus smiles suddenly, small and soft and fucking beautiful.

"I love you, James Potter," he breathes, words as soft as velvet.

James kisses him back, addicted and so full of warmth.

Later that night, after a round of sex that had James seeing stars and struggling to catch him breath, they’re both laying in James’ bed. Freshly showered and hair still damp, James had practically collapsed into the sheets and dragged Regulus down with him.

Unsurprisingly, Regulus fells asleep quickly. After the shift yesterday, James knew Regulus was tired when he woke up this morning even after his impressive lengthily sleep. The evening has been draining enough for James, nervous for most of it and waiting for the penny to drop between the Black brothers and an explosion to follow. If James is tired, he can’t imagine how exhausted Regulus must feel. So when the smaller man goes boneless against him, James smiles in relief. Regulus needs to the sleep, and James is happy to wrap their legs up and hold Regulus against his chest where he knows the younger man loves to sleep.

James wants to keep Regulus here. He wants to keep him wrapped in his arms, in his bed, warm and happy and sated. He wants to protect him, keep him safe from the horrors of the world. He wants to cherish him, body, soul and needs combined. He wants to give him everything he deserves and more, because he knows Regulus doesn’t believe he’s as good and amazing as those around him know. James wants to go and find and destroy everyone that ever made Regulus feel less than the world he is worth. He wants to find Orion and Walburga, wants to watch them burn, wants to avenge Regulus and all the happiness, self worth, and kindness he was stripped of growing up.

Just thinking about how little Regulus feels about himself, about his ability at anything, at his confidence in himself and others, makes James so angry. This incredible human, this enigma of a person, who’s got a beautiful heart and a beautiful brain, has been broken apart and put back together so many times that James worries the next time he’s shattered, the pieces won’t fit.

He tightens his arms around the warm body next to him. He pulls Regulus closer, as if he’s physically trying to mould their bodies together.

"I love you," he whispers into the smaller mans hair. "I love you so much, Reg."

Regulus doesn’t reply, but James’ heart soars when he hears a soft sigh and Regulus burrows some more into his chest.

Fitting together like two parts of a puzzle, James relaxes that while he hasn’t found a way to make the world around them burn to ash and leave them alone, Regulus is here with him.

— tbc.