Sirius' Clothes
James, Sirius, and Peter, rather sluggish, trudge up the stairs to their dorm. It’s barely 6am. The morning after a full moon is always rather restless in their little corner of the Gryffindor tower. Peter is dead on his feat, hardly lifting them as he walks and repeatedly tripping on the high steps. Sirius is oddly jovial, it had been one of Moony’s better moons, and is taking the steps two at a time. James is at a level of life somewhere above Wormtail but well below Padfoot. He’s awake, yes, but he feels quite drowsy like when he falls asleep reading in the library. His feet take each step carefully, and as soon as it's within reach, he’s face first in his bed.
“Oh, come on Prongs, Wormy, it’s a beautiful morning,” Sirius sings, dancing around the room to make Moony’s bed for him before he returns, “the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and it’s a Sunday!” James rolls so he’s face up on his bed, laying flat like a corpse. He feels quite a bit like a corpse.
“The sun is quite literally not shining, Pads,” Peter groans, flicking his curtains closed and grunting as the rustling sounds of him getting comfortable reach James and Sirius’ ears.
It’s been two days since he last saw Regulus in the astronomy tower, and he’s a little put out that the younger boy seems to be avoiding him. Friday morning, the morning after, Regulus hadn’t come to breakfast. Then again, none of his friends came either so he can’t be sure that was a plot of avoidance. All that day, whenever James checked the map, Regulus was either in class or in his dorm, typically accompanied by his two mates.
Saturday was the day of the full, so James hadn't had much time to seek Regulus out. He woke up earlier than the rest of his friends, who alway slept in to prepare for the night, and checked his map. Regulus was in his dorm. At lunch that day Regulus had come to the great hall, but had kept very quietly to his friends and not spared James more than a millisecond of a glance.
Dinner was quick for the marauders that night, and eaten in their dorm as they prepared for the night, plotting what parts of the forest they should explore and when they’d need to head to the willow. Padfoot hadn’t been invited to join them since the incident last year, and was genuinely overjoyed when Remus suggested, “padfoot could lead us to that waterfall again,” casually, as if he hadn't just stopped and started Sirius’ heart.
James checked the map as they used it to navigate to the willow last night, and had seen that Regulus had returned to his tower. He scowled at his inability to join him, and briskly shut the map as they left the castle.
Prongs had tried to get back to the castle several times last night. Padfoot had to rope him into a game of chase to lead him away.
James always loved being prongs, the sort of fog that settles over his mind as it simples into that of a stag. He never thinks, as Prongs, simply feels. Feels that he wants to eat that particular leaf, or chase that black dog, or that there's something he needs in the castle. Prongs is James’ least abashed version of himself, which is saying a lot since regular human James is rather unabashed. Prongs acts on basic impulses and desires, and the lack of inner monologue means he was in desperate want to get to Regulus, to climb up to the tower.
Padfoot had had a great night, his first time back since last spring. Moony always likes playing with him best, and is always happy to chase him when he darts between thick trees and heavy underbrush. Moony and Padfoot have a sort of game they pay, a cat and mouse, and Prongs and Wormy were beyond happy to get to play it with them again.
So, this early morning, Sirius is human again and running on pure adrenaline from the night. He has a scratch in his right hand where Padfoot had stepped on a thorn, and he’s rubbing at it as he paces the room.
“Should I go down to the infirmary?” he asks, eyes wide and purpled with lack of sleep, “I should probably go make sure he gets back okay, he might be hungry too, I’ll run down to the kitchens and grab him a plate.” He darts to the door, grabbing his robes and checking himself over in the mirror once before turning the knob and tossing a smile over his shoulder.
James is far too tired to protest, so he lets him leave and sits up to tug lightly at his shoes. As soon as his shoes are off he peels off his socks and tosses them somewhere in the direction of his drawers. Flopping back onto his pillow, he heaves a sigh and rolls over to check the map once more before passing out.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he whispers, aware of Peter's sleeping body nearby, tapping the tip of his wand gently against the worn parchment. The map swirls with red and black ink, coloring the parchment with the intricate patterns of the castle. He checks Regulus’ dorm first, but finds only Evan and Barty within, their name banners still, seemingly asleep. He scans up to the astronomy tower in which he finds the names of a 7th year ravenclaw couple, good for them, he thinks.
He follows the path his eyes take along the map with his wand, navigating next to the kitchens to find only Sirius’ name displayed. He traces the entire castle. Regulus Black is nowhere to be found. James wonders if he’s outside, perhaps? Or maybe he knows some of the secret passages and went to loiter in hogsmeade. Those are the only possible explanations, since James knows the map has quite literally every nook and cranny of Hogwarts plotted on its pages.
He folds it up, whispering a hushed, “mischief managed,” as he stuffs it under his pillow. He closes his curtains as the sun begins to rise, and falls asleep quickly despite his urge to stay up wondering where Regulus Black might be.
–
Regulus is alone. He’s in the only place he knows he can be alone in. He’s sitting on a cushion, on a soft carpet draped in front of a warm orange fireplace. There’s a small couch behind him and a couple cozy arm chairs on either side of it. The ceiling is covered in stars, permanently displaying the night sky, Sirius and Regulus both visible in its arches. The room is small, but that's exactly what he wanted, he’s only one person anyway.
He found it in his third year. It was the first day back after Christmas. The Christmas his brother had left. He’d been pacing the halls, generally wandering through the open corridors hoping to find some first years to leer at. He’d been thinking of their living room at grimmauld place, the cold stone floor and the hard stuffed couch. He’d been thinking of the floo there, how Sirius had tossed himself into it and for a moment Regulus caught a glimpse of where he’d gone.
All of a sudden, the stone wall beside him began to move. A large mahogany door forming on it, wide and tall and laced in carved patterns. When a small curious Regulus opened it, he’d found this room. The room he’d caught a glimpse of that night in his fireplace.
He’s not sure anybody else knows this place exists, and he’s quite sure they’d need to be him to access this exact room anyway. It’s his best kept secret.
He sprawls out on the soft carpet beneath him, propping his cushion up against the wooden coffee table behind him. The fire warms the soles of his feet and the heat spreads through him softly. The stars on the ceiling are bright, and clear, and he stares at them as he breathes in his solitude.
He loves being alone. As much as he loves his friends, and people, and the general atmosphere of a bustling school; Regulus needs to be alone. He’s not mad at James for finding him in the astronomy tower, or for befriending the house elves in the kitchens, but he’d like to have somewhere even James Potter can’t find him. He likes that it’s only his. He’s never really had anything to himself.
Every item he owned in his house technically belonged to his mother, and even gifts he got almost always came at a cost. A book for a favor, a quill for a service. This room, though, these carpets and couches and chairs are all his. Only his. He’s the only person who sits on them or lights the fire. He’s the only person who has breathed in this room of his.
He wonders if he’d ever allow somebody else in here, perhaps the lover he longs for at night. He doesn’t think he’d ever allow someone so loseable to touch these pieces of him, though. They’d ruin it when they left him.
He’s in here, now, to think. Thinking has been getting more and more difficult for him since James Potter had been plaguing his mind. He’d gone to the astronomy tower last night, almost expecting James to find him, the way he always does. It took away from the stars or the hills; the lack of James was too noticeable now. So, he came here, where nobody else has ever been, so it cannot remind him of anybody else.
The couch is red though, and the fire is warm and bright. Both things remind him of James. That boy has a way of following him, doesn’t he?
He decided, last night, he’d let himself be friends with him. They can meet at night; ask questions, and tell answers back and forth. Regulus is sure nobody can know, though, especially not James’ friends.
Regulus can't imagine what Sirius would say, if his little brother stole the man who stole him. He imagines it must be weird for James, seeing as his best friend hates his little brother, but his little brother happens to be James’ new fascination. Then again, Regulus still has a sneaking suspicion his older brother and new (maybe) friend are plotting this together. Get little Reg to spill all his secrets and expose him to the whole school; to his parents.
However, Regulus thinks James Potter must be the kindest boy in the world. He can't even begin to imagine James Potter hating someone. He can’t even imagine him angry. James is probably the type to get sad when he’s angry, he’d probably hate himself for feeling anything other than happy.
Maybe Regulus can help James with that. Not that he wants to ruin his life and make him perpetually sad or upset, but he figures he knows quite a bit about giving in to those emotions. It’s not always bad. Regulus Black is a strong supporter of screaming. Of crying. Of both at the same time. He comes here to do just that sometimes, where nobody else can hear him or see him as he wails and wails into the everburning fire. It’s soothing.
Regulus plans to propose this friendship thing to James and see how he reacts, see if it was all a plot to embarrass the little Black or not. If James agrees, if he still acts like he cares, Regulus will pretend he really does and tell that bright warm boy anything he wants to know. It’s far too hard not to. And, maybe, just maybe, there are some things about James that Regulus wants to know too.
If he agrees, then they’ll be friends when the sun sets, and strangers again as it rises. They’ll only exist with the stars and the darkness, Regulus Black cannot be seen with James Potter. It would ruin both of their reputations. Regulus does not want to go through what Sirius went through when their parents got word he’d befriended “that Potter boy”. Regulus will not sacrifice himself to suit James’ insatiable curiosity.
Regulus also knows Sirius, despite their years of distance. He knows his older brother sometimes better than he knows himself, he can recognize his pacing patterns and read every flutter of the curtain behind his eyes. He knows he’s the reason for his endless pacing, and his tired eyes. He can see the loathing in Sirius stark eyes every morning when he looks at him across the hall. He knows that hatred is not directed at him. That hatred, brimming in the ocean of Sirius’ eyes, would be more intense if he looked in a mirror. Both Black brothers loathe Sirius Black.
Sirius left. Sirius left and did not take Regulus. Sirius did not ask Regulus to come with, hardly spared his 12 year old brother a second glance as he fled.
Regulus has seen loneliness his whole life, he’s seen the inside of dark closets and starving nights. He’s seen empty halls and endless abandoned rooms. He did not understand it, or know it, until those closet doors didn’t open with a small smile and a napkin stuffed with food. He knows it now. He has befriended the dusty paintings and vacant spaces, and he exists in the agony of being left behind.
Sirius is loud. Sirius is gall and spite. He would hate James if he ever knew. Regulus was meant to be left behind, Sirius will not appreciate James trying to go back and get him. Regulus also knows Sirius is a jealous creature, green and envious in his very bones. He’ll hate Regulus then, when he gets the person who Sirius has claimed as his. Regulus would honestly be surprised if Sirius hadn’t once pissed on James to mark his territory. Sirius is loyal, yes, but dangerous and rabid in his anger like a guard dog. He’ll bite.
Regulus has rolled over in all his thinking, left cheek pressed into the soft carpet, arms and legs spread like a big X on the ground. The fire is burning brighter as it spreads up and over all the wooden logs within the hearth, its heat stinging Regulus’ cheeks. His eyes trace the shapes in the flames, mumbling small incantations to make little figures appear within them. For a moment he sees James, just his face, slightly distorted and disfigured by the fire, but smiling at Regulus nonetheless. Regulus almost smiles back.
He wonders why James had not followed him to the tower last night. He clearly has some way of knowing when he’s there, but he hadn’t come. Regulus hadn’t necessarily waited for him, but he might have spent just a little extra time finding constellations than he normally does.
At one point Regulus was trying to cast spells to see if he could illuminate as far as the forbidden forest, which rested closely beneath the tower. He swears he saw a large stag, just on the outskirts of the forest, staring directly up at his tower. He didn’t think the forest had stags in it, but he’d be none the wiser if it did. He’s quite sure you could find just about anything in that forest. He’s also sure the creature could not have been looking at him, but something in its black eyes reflected an almost human feeling. That’s when Regulus went back to the dorm.
He wonders where James is now. As this thought crosses his mind, his stomach makes a sort of gargled strangling noise and he checks the clock on the wall to his left. To do this he has to get up, rolling around onto his back and pushing himself up with the short coffee table. He returns the cushion he’d previously been sitting on and sees that it’s already 8am. He’d come in here at around 6, quietly waking as curfew lifted and tiptoeing out of his room as his friends soundly slept.
Breakfast, he assumes, is what his stomach had been trying to suggest. He does a quick once over of the room as he fluffs the pillows on the red couch, making sure nothing is out of place before he turns to leave. He presses an ear to the door to make sure nobody is on the other side to get terrified by a man walking through a wall. There's a small noise of shuffling shoes, then he hears them begin to descend the stairs at the end of the hall. He pushes the door open slightly, cracking it just enough to poke the top of his head out and look both ways before stepping all the way through the threshold and starting off towards the great hall.
He takes the same path those shuffling feet took, turning left out of the door and skipping quickly down the steps. He’s very hungry. He also wonders if maybe James Potter might be at breakfast. Mostly he’s just hungry. It’s Sunday, too, which means a full spread. He can smell it as he gets closer.
The first thing he does as he turns through the doors to the great hall is look directly forward, where the gryffindor table resides. It’s only about a third of the way full, since most students use this day to sleep in. He scans the backs of the students' heads before deducting that James Potter and his friends are not among them. He does not let out a huff of disappointment. At least not one anyone could hear.
He pivots on his heel, journeying to the slytherin table to find Dorcas alone chewing rather aggressively on a cut up sausage. Regulus sits himself down right across from her, offering her a small smile when she looks up.
“Reg,” she says, eyebrows high on her forehead, “I thought you were still asleep with your other two sleeping beauties.” She takes another bite of sausage as Regulus replies through his process of selecting food from the spread, he starts as he grabs a pancake, speaking as he places it on his plate, “No, I had an early start today.” That’s all he says. She swallows and raises a single eyebrow, “where did you go?” He’s now scooping a generous amount of eggs onto his half empty plate, “astronomy tower,” he clips, smiling at her inquisitive face.
She grabs some eggs as soon as Regulus releases the spoon, speaking as she shovels them onto her plate, “that early?” she asks. He takes a bite of his pancake and swallows before answering, “wanted to watch the sunrise.”
Dorcas smiles at that, tired eyes softening and her face losing that signature scolding mother look she gets when inspecting Regulus (or Barty and Evan for that matter). Regulus smiles to match her, offering her the plate of bacon as he takes some for himself. She nods a thank you as she grabs a couple slices, speaking through her smile, “sunrise is always nice this time of year, the birds have been a little bit louder this season.”
Regulus nods as he chews on a forkful of eggs, humming as he swallows, “indeed, you should join me some time,” he pauses as he notices a blonde head enter the hall, motioning for Dorcas to follow his line of vision with a small tilt of his head before continuing, “or perhaps you should have her join you.” Dorcas’ eyes widen slightly, her chewed bit of bacon getting stuck in her throat as she coughs and sputters at Regulus’ suggestion.
The blonde girl follows the sound of Dorcas’ current choking predicament with her eyes as she strolls to the middle of the gryffindor table, and Regulus thinks he sees a small fond smile play at her lips as she sits down. Dorcas eventually manages to swallow before swatting at Regulus, whisper-yelling at him, “you little wanker! She definitely saw that! That’s so embarrassing Regulus, why would you say that?” He smiles wider as she glares at him, “all I said was a perfectly nice suggestion for a possibly splendid romantic moment between you and the woman who just made you choke on your food by walking through a door.” Her scowl deepens as she simply responds, “die.”
Dorcas immediately regrets her words as almost as soon as they leave her mouth Regulus starts choking on a particularly large bite of pancake, his eyes locked on the same spot they’d been when Marlene walked through the door. Only the person walking through the door is not a tall blonde woman, but a very disheveled version of James Potter.
His hair is a mess atop his head, but not the bad kind, he’s got bed head that causes his wavy brown hair to flop on top of his forehead and lay softly on top of his glasses. He looks so soft. His face is flushed like he just woke up, and his lips look slightly glossy like maybe he drools, which Regulus shouldn't find endearing but causes a light blush to dance along his cheeks nonetheless. What really choked Regulus (literally) is the fact that this sleep-addled James Potter has just casually strolled through the doors to the great hall in nothing but a cropped gray muscle tee and low waisted sweats to match.
Regulus immediately can tell these clothes do not belong to him, and assumes they must be Sirius’ from two indicators. One, it's slutty, downright slutty. Two, the clothes are slightly too small, hence how low the sweats sit on James’ hips just to reach the tips of his ankles, and the way the shirt stretches tight across his toned chest. Dorcas is so lucky Marlene is wearing her robes.
“Regulus, I didn’t mean it, bloody hell,” Dorcas is exasperatedly shoving a glass of water at Regulus, trying to get his limp hand to grip it, “please, Merlin, drink some water. I don't know any choking spells!” She shoves the water rather aggressively into Regulus’ hand as it sits uselessly on the table, his other one covering his mouth as he coughs. He realizes it's there and promptly takes two very large gulps, pushing the hardly chewed pancaked down his throat with it.
“What in the name of Salazar just happened to you? Please never take me that seriously again,” Dorcas exclaims, dramatically slapping a hand on the table and staring at Regulus with wide eyes. Regulus takes a few more sips of water as he watches James strut, full on proper hips swaying strut, to sit down across from Marlene. This means James is facing him. James is facing Regulus in a crop top, with dream laced eyes. Regulus decides to stick with sipping water for a little bit.
“Reg?” Diorcas waves a hand in front of his face before twisting around to find what he’s staring at, “Reg!” She snaps right in front of his eyes causing him to blink harshly and begrudgingly look back at her. She stifles a laugh behind her napkin as she daps a bit of grease on her lip, “were you just gawking at James bloody Potter?”
He opens his mouth. He promptly then closes his mouth. He blinks a couple times. He tries to say something but it comes out as a sort of “grmph” sound as his gaze finds James again. And James is looking right at him. He’s also leaning across the table to grab a plate of bacon, the shirt riding up even more, exposing the dark broad expanses of his upper chest. His torso is twisting, displaying the ripple of muscles along it, and the dip of his surprisingly delicate looking waist. He smiles when Regulus locks eyes with him. Regulus promptly spits out his water.
“What the hell, Reg!” Dorcas shouts, water spewing across the table to land all over her plate of breakfast. She scowls down at her drowned plate and as she looks up at Regulus and begins to open mouth laugh the way she almost only does when she's drunk.
Regulus focuses back on her as James sits back down, bacon acquired an dgrin still affixed to his face. “I’m so sorry,” he rushes out, generally just tossing napkins in Dorcas’ direction, “I’m sorry, oh god, this is so embarrassing, I’m so sorry.” Regulus pauses his napkin distribution as Dorcas quite literally starts crying from laughing so hard. She’s hunched over, head resting on her elbows as he makes a pillow out of her arms on the table. She’s shaking violently and her laugh is impossibly loud considering how muffled it also is by the table.
“Oh, Merlin,” She says through a fit of laughter, raising her head to look at Regulus again, “James Potter in a sweat suit just made you come in your pants didn't he?!” It’s Regulus’ turn to scowl now, removing the small smile James had managed to put there and replacing it with a downturned frown as he glares at Dorcas. “No he did not,” Regulus states, flat, petulant as he crosses his arms over his chest and raises his chin up at Dorcas.
She smiles at this, somehow even wider, “Reggie! Oh! This is good! You’ve got the hots for your brother's best friend!” His frown deepens alongside the blush he can feel crawling up his neck and settling in his cheeks, “No I absolutely do not,” he glances at James, who is still looking at him as he chats with Marlene, “I’m just offended by his outfit. He’s hideous. It wounds me.”
Dorcas shakes her head and places her face in her hands as her elbows rest on the table, “Regulus, even as a lesbian I can’t deny James Potter is hot. Like Hot Hot, drop your knickers and get on your knees hot.” Regulus’ frown flattens out now to something more akin to indifference, “he’s like a default jock, he’s average,” he comments, attempting to cool himself with more sips of water as he continues, “I hate him.”
She raises a smooth black eyebrow at Regulus as he gulps the cold water in his glass, “so that's why you quite literally combusted at the sight of him in a crop top? Out of hatred?” He nods stiffly, feeling the curls on his head bounce with the movement, “I was simply so repulsed I would have rather died than have to see him.”
She just nods, a small secretive smile on her face as she follows Regulus’ moving eyes back to the center of the gryffindor table, where James is currently laughing with a mouth full of egg, “whatever you say, Reg.” She finishes the rest of her food with a playful smile on her face, bidding Regulus ado when she stands and makes for the dungeons again.
“Bye, you little whore,” she jokes as she slides out of her seat, “enjoy the view.” He swats at her as she walks away, scowling after her figure as she turns out the door. It’s about 8:45 now, and Regulus is quite sure Barty and Evan will be fast asleep until around 11. He’s now alone at their end of the slytherin table, the first and second years chattering a few feet away from him. He’s now, also, in the direct sight of James Potter.
Dorcas had slightly been blocking their line of view to one another, braided head serving a sort of wall between them. Now that she’s gone, and so too it seems is Marlene, James and Regulus may as well be seated directly across from one another. James is leaning with his elbows on the table, chewing politely and only taking his eyes off Regulus to look down at his plate.
Regulus does his best not to look back, but honestly he doesn’t know a strong enough person to resist James bloody-well-fit Potter in a literal fucking crop top. So, of course, he looks back. When he looks up after successfully spearing a sausage with his fork, James is gone. His gaze immediately heads towards the door, where he sees James start, then promptly turn to his left and head towards the slytherin table. Oh Merlin, Regulus’ useless brain provides, oh no.
Well, maybe he’s just going to visit a ravenclaw, Regulus thinks, as the ravenclaw table is between that of gryffindor and slytherin. James quickly passes the ravenclaw table. Merlin and Salazar both, why is he wearing that bloody outfit, Regulus' mind wonders as he helplessly stares at James’ fast approach. He blacks out in the time it takes for James to cross the room and sit directly down across from Regulus.
Quite literally every head turns. Bloody hell.
“Regulus!” James says, happily, staring at him out from under that soft lush plop of hair on his forehead. Regulus stares at him, expression flat, stomach churning as he can feel every single pair of eyes in the room watching them.
“Potter,” he whispers sternly, “what the bloody hell are you doing here?” James just smiles, as if he’s not likely the first gryffindor to literally ever step near the slytherin table, let alone sit at it. He cocks his head a little to the side as he says, simply, “get breakfast,” he grabs a piece of bacon off Regulus plate an dbites into it, speaking as he chews, “duh.” Regulus glowers as he watches James' perfect teeth rip into the fatty strip in his hands. The crop to is riding up, Regulus tries very hard not to notice that.
“Please leave,” he says, tone void of any emotion, frown permanently affixed to his rapidly heating face. James frowns playfully back at him, eyes widening as he whimpers, “you want me to starve, Reggie?” He just his plush bottom lip out as he pouts.
Regulus nods, “yes if that means you’ll leave me alone,” he snatches his bacon back and places it in its spot on his plate, “and never call me Reggie. Ever.” James arches an eyebrow, clearly feeling rather bold and playful today, “Oh, but, Reggie, I’ve missed you.”
He says this with an absolutely reckless and unaware level of volume, and quite literally the whole hall starts to fill with whispers and mutterings. Regulus stands up quickly and makes to leave the hall. James, of course, follows immediately after him.
“Regulus, I’m sorry,” he quickly catches up and even passes in front of Regulus to talk to him as he walks backward through the doors and down the hall, “but really, where have you been the past couple of days?” James stops by a staircase, leaning against the wall, legs extended crossing over one another, causing his left hip bone to stick out of the low pants, his deep skin tone reflecting the morning light through the windows. Regulus attempts to breathe.
“I’ve clearly been in the castle, Potter, where else would I go?” Regulus turns to face James, eyes pointedly on his face, refusing to wander. James cracks a new smile, one Regulus hasn't seen yet. It’s cocky, sideways and half open, making a dimple pop in his left cheek. Regulus is not succeeding in this whole breathing thing. James crosses his arms over his chest now, pulling the small shirt even tighter against his broad shoulders, creasing it in the lines of the muscles that run over them. He is trying to murder me, Regulus decides, It was all a plot to kill me.
“Well, I apologize I couldn’t join you in your tower last night, princess,” first of all ew James Potter absolutely did not just call Regulus Black fucking princess, second of all; he bloody knew James had a way of knowing when he was up there, “I had a busy night, tried to find you this morning but according to my research you were in fact, not, in the castle.” He raises a full eyebrow at Regulus, who is currently attempting to figure out what the hell you’re supposed to do with your hands during a conversation.
He ends up twisting them behind his straight back, fingers hooked together at the base of his spine as he responds, “not quite sure what device you’re using to stalk me, but it appears to be faulty, I can assure you I haven't left the castle all weekend.” James’ eyebrows furrow slightly, like he’s having a rather intense thought process before his jock smile returns and he looks openly back at Regulus.
“Well, can we meet tonight then? We can even go outside of the castle if you like, I know a spot where the stars are extra clear,” he suggests, stepping away from the wall and slightly closer to Regulus. He smells like eucalyptus soap and a little bit of the cologne Regulus knows his brother uses. Regulus clears his throat, “Fine. But please for the love of all, please never approach me in public again. I will literally spit on you next time.”
James’ smile widens at his words, mischief glinting in his eyes, “what if I said I was into that?” Regulus nearly dies again. He manages to get out a clear, “then I’d suggest you get some help. Madam Pomfrey does psych evaluations as well as physical, you know?” James laughs and his stomach ripples with it, clenching and relaxing with each bubble of noise that slips out of his lips.
“Fine,” he says, turning slightly to prepare for his journey up the stairs they passed earlier, “but does this mean we’re friends? Like really, like the kind that sneak out together and shit?” Regulus has to hold back the fond smile that threatens to rip open his lips as he watches James' quiet joy spread across his face. Regulus simply cocks his head to the side, mimicking James’ earlier half smile, “we can discuss that matter tonight. I’ll meet you at the big clock at midnight.”
After he speaks Regulus promptly swivels on his heel and starts down the stairs, refusing to risk another glance at James Crop Top Potter.
–
When James asked Sirius to grab him something to wear while he showered, this was admittedly not what he had in mind.
“Padfoot,” he had curiously called out from his position holding the small top up in front of himself, “mate I’m pretty sure these aren’t my clothes.” He was answered with a pronounced giggle from the other side of the room, and Sirius’ certain tone carried through the door, “not sure what you mean Prongs, those were made for you!”
James simply sighed before doing as he always does in the face of a challenge; refusing to back down. The neck hole of the shirt hardly fit over his wider-than-Sirius’ head and made the hair on top of his head flatten and expand over his face. The pants were far too short so he tugged them down to rest just along the middle of his hips. His entire stomach was exposed, and his v-line was far more prominent than he liked. James Potter knew he was attractive, objectively, but as much of a show off as he was he never really liked to point it out.
When he exited the bathroom Sirius’ jaw dropped as he gushed and declared, “James please keep those, dear Merlin, I have the sexiest best friend in the world.” James saw a faux sleeping Moony roll his eyes at that before shoving his face back into his pillow. James simply grins and moves to give himself a once over in the mirror by Padfoots bed, as the latter waltzes towards him to adjust some of the creases and folded bits.
“As I said,” Sirius starts as he turns James around in his hands, “sexy.” James laughs, starting to feel a little more confident as he confirmed he didn't look terrible in the mirror. Maybe he could make this work.
What James had not expected was the reaction his outfit garnered from the other Black brother. He’s quite sure he watched Regulus almost die when he walked into the great hall that morning. He had to resist the urge to run over and give him the heimlich (he knew how to, Moony had taught him in second year). James made sure to give Regulus a little show as he sashayed (yes, sashayed, Mary had taught him that in 4th year) over to where Marlene was currently demolishing a pancake at the gryffindor table.
She looked up at him with wide eyes, immediately smacking a hand over her face and stifling a gasp.
So far, since he’s watched Regulus’ descent down the stairs and wandered the halls, he’s gotten pretty much the same reaction from everyone. He also already promised Sirius he’d wear it all day. Only a few people have really commented on it, James was thoroughly shocked when even Regulus had nothing to say. Other than the choking, which, if James thinks about it, says more than his words ever could have.
James thinks he needs to thank Sirius, actually, because Regulus’ reaction to his funny little outfit made James’ day, and will probably be making every single other day he has until he dies. James quickly remembers he should absolutely not tell Sirius that the outfit he picked out for his best friend made his estranged little brother gay panic in the great hall. Probably not the best idea.
Is that what it was? James wonders, walking through his memories of that morning as he strolls through one of the upper wings of the castle. Gay panic? Is Regulus gay? James thinks that question will have to wait, Regulus can hardly even acknowledge he might want to be friends with James. He’ll take what he can get.
James spends the rest of the day loitering all about the castle, trying to find new hidden places to add to the map, which is futile since the map hasn’t been added to since 2nd year. Merlin, it has never taken this long for the day to get to midnight before, James’ mind repetitively ponders as he runs his hands along stone walls or glances emptily out at the grounds. It’s only midday when James gets to see Regulus again.
James thinks meals might be becoming his favorite part of his days. Sure, he enjoys the deserted hours of the night in which his friends and he revel, but Regulus is always at the meals. He has such a stoic way of eating, so prim and proper. He holds his fork delicately in his right hand, and splays all his other silverware out in size order from either side of his plate. His back is straight as a board, and his elbows hover above the wooden table as he picks at his plate.
Regulus didn’t choke this time, when James walked in, but he did look. James’ eyes immediately went to the slytherin table as he entered the room, enjoying the blush that covered Regulus’ face as soon as he locked eyes with him. He had, much to James’ dismay, quickly looked away and resumed his quiet conversation with a very aloof seeming blonde girl James didn’t know the name of.
He strolled languidly to his center post at the gryffindor table, immediately distracted from the pale boy across the room by Moony’s open mouth, gaping at him as he sat down across from him.
“What are you wearing, Prongs?” Moony asked, whispering for some reason, leaning across the table over his steaming plate of food. Moony always ate well after the full moon, especially now that he doesn't have to spend the whole day in the infirmary after. He makes good use of being able to get his own food.
“Clothes,” James responds casually, looking down at his outfit with a neutral face and shrugging before scooping some bread and potatoes onto his plate. Moony simply stares. “I didn’t know you owned clothes like that,” he says, face also maintaining neutrality. James smiles, “I don't. There SIrius’”
Ah, and there's the reaction he was looking for. Moony blushes, deep and hot pink from up his long neck over his freckled cheeks. The tips of his ears get red as he clearly starts picturing Sirius in the outfit James is currently sporting.
Sirius and Remus, after mostly making up after… have been helplessly enamored with one another. Sirius spent so long watching Remus, studying him and accommodating him in the last year that he can't seem to go back to the way they used to be. He’s like a puppy around Remus, begging for attention and a little too touchy.
Remus’ anger towards Sirius somehow always excused how close he’d gotten to him, yelling almost directly into the other boy's mouth. He’d tug on his clothes and push and shove when he was especially scorned, and despite the hurt it stemmed from, there was always something else in Remus’ eyes. James always had to break them up.
James will let them figure that out on their own.
“Oh,” Remus nods, a crack in his voice before he gulps down a glass of crisp water, “well.”
James can’t help the smile that breaks his face. Yeah, he’ll let them figure that out.
A couple hours later and it’s dinner. James has quite literally spent the last 3 and a half hours staring at the floor, laid flat on his bed with his head over one edge and his feet over the other. The boys had gone out to do Merlin knows what and he’d argued tiredness from last night to get them to leave him alone. He’d just been staring at the floor thinking about tonight. Thinking about Regulus’ secret smile in the hall earlier, and the way his eyes had felt on James’ exposed skin.
No, James’ mind scorned him, absolutely not.
The great hall is stuffed more full than it was for the other two meals, and everyone ogles at James as he struts through the thick wooden doors. All the second and third year girls who are learning what puberty is immediately breaking out into giggles and blushes as he passes by. His friends have adjusted and hardly even acknowledge the outfit outside a few snide remarks about the hall's reaction.
“Sirius, do you have this in multiple colors?” James asks cheekily, smiling through a bite of mashed potatoes and laughing as he eyes Remus’ reaction. Sirius smiles wide, mischief in the going of his perfect canines, “oh, of course, Prongs. Gryffindor red and gold is always an option, I’m quite sure I’ve got an all black option, maybe you’d want to try the pink version?” James loves this. Them. Joking and smiling and best friends.
“Well, I’d have to see them modeled of course,” James replies, serious tone contradicting his dimple clad smile, “can we schedule a fashion show, Pads?” Sirius positively beams, setting down his fork and knife as he stands to say, “give me twenty minutes, I’ll get a show ready for you,” he pauses and smiles at the rest of their group, “all you, of course, are invited.”
Remus is pink in the face, perfectly matching the inside of his cut up steak. James watches as he sputters in flustered confusion when Sirius grabs him by the arm to accompany him, claiming, “I need you, Moony, you’re the only other one of us with any sense of style.”
Mary gawks as he says this, affronted with both eyebrows raised, “excuse me, Black?” Sirius pauses to place a delicate hand on her exposed shoulder, “Oh Mary, you know you’re my number one fashion guru, just want to save you for reviews after, I need to know if I have mastered the craft,” she smiles as he swoons over her color selections and silhouette mastery.
The remaining six of them murmur in quiet excitement at the prospect of a Sirius Black run fashion show, and all openly comment on Remus’ reaction. James absolutely can't wait.
The twenty minutes they promised Sirius passes in loud laughter and a few random glances from Regulus James catches in his smiles to save and dream about later. They quickly scuffle out of the room at about 18 minutes after Sirius and Remus’ departure, allotting themselves a few minutes to head up to the dorm.
James, for probably the first time ever, follows up at the back of the group, allowing a space to form between them as he lingers slightly inside the door. Regulus looks at him. That’s enough to satiate James as he smiles back and darts after his friends, promptly appointed line leader once again.
They all clamber up to the Gryffindor tower in high excitement, wondering if Sirius will play music or if they think he’d cast any charms on the room. The fat lady rolls her eyes as they approach and hastily spit out the password before she can even open her mouth. As soon as the portrait swings open they step through, checking their watches to ensure that it has been exactly twenty minutes.
James knocks at his dorm door to make sure they can enter, and receives a muffled version of Moony’s voice saying, “come in.” He opens the door and quickly everybody rushes in, taking seats on the 6 transfigured chairs. James notices a few missing items on Sirius’ side of the room and wonders if he’s sitting on his hair brush or his pillow.
The room is lit by the sunset through wide open windows, and Sirius has transfigured his blanket into a literal red carpet down the center of the room, a perfect shade match for the color of Moony’s face. Moony is stationed at the bathroom door, standing tall and quiet as his friends shuffle in.
Once everyone is seated James hears the beginnings of a David Bowie album playing, but can’t quite name the song. As the first verse starts and Bowie’s voice croons over them, Remus opens the bathroom door. The lights are off inside so nobody can make out what’s within until suddenly the lights flick on to reveal Sirius Black posing in a hot pink crop top and shorts.
He’s stood with one hand on a jutted out hip, and the other raised up with its forearm resting on top of his long hair. He’s got makeup on to match the outfit, hot pink eyeliner and blush across his pale cheeks.
The crowd immediately whoops, hollering words of impress and seduction. James is pretty sure he hears Lily ask Sirius to have her right then and there. He’s definitely sure he hears Remus’ breath catch, and makes out the small whisper he directs at Sirius as he starts his path down the runway, “you look beautiful,” he says. If James hadn't picked the seat closest to REmus he would have never even thought he’d said anything. Sirius falters momentarily at this, looking at Remus with wide eyes before smiling his signature grin and strutting down the catwalk.
Bowie's voice continues as Sirius wiggles his hips in the far-too-short shorts and dances like rain in the air. Sirius has always been a very good dancer, he once told James his parents had made him take ballet. James briefly wonders if Regulus knows ballet too then and tries to shake the image of Regulus in a ballerina outfit out of his head. Very distracting, that.
Sirius slowly makes his way back to the bathroom and Remus shuts it behind him as a new song begins, this James instantly recognizes as Sirius’ favorite. He’s sung this one one too many times drunk on a table with his best friend to not know the name.
The door opens again as Bowie sings, “you’ve got your mother in a whirl,” Sirius steps out as the next line begins, spinning around to show off the small pleated skirt atop his hips, “she’s not sure if you’re a boy or a girl.” Remus almost falls over.
Above the short black skirt (looks like leather) Sirius has on a tight muscle tee like the kind James is currently wearing, but this one has small holes and cutouts held together by some sort of metal pin James has never seen before. It looks fucking cool. His leather jacket, of course, completes the look with his signature black boots. Moony bought him those boots.
Sirius is obviously a bigger fan of this outfit than the last one, and so it seems is his audience. Mary absolutely loses it, standing up and cheering over the Bowie’s voice as he get sto the chorus, “rebel, rebel, they tore your dress,” she screams when Sirus rips his shirt a little more. Remus is quite literally drooling.
As Sirius sways to the music down the carpet James looks up at Remus. His eyes are glazed over and the heat he always carries with him is literally radiating off his body in waves. He looks down, as if he can feel James’ gaze, and there's a smile on his thin pink lips. James smiles back, and nods. Remus looks confused for a moment as James looks back and forth between Remus and Sirius, a look of knowing on his warm features. Remus looks surprised then, and a little caught, but James stands quickly to clap with Mary for Sirius and leans back a little bit to whisper in Remus’ ear.
“Moony,” James starts, speaking out of the corner of his mouth with his eyes still on Sirius, “wipe your chin.”
Remus smiles a little to himself, “am I that obvious?” he asks, whispering almost directly into James' ear. He has to bend over a little to do so and James has never before felt short, he does not enjoy the feeling. “Oh absolutely yes,” James responds, smacking Sirius’ ass as he steps back into the bathroom with a wide smile on his face. The door closes again and Remus asks James, tentative and open, “do you think he knows?”
James turns now to look at him, a small smile on his lips, “Oh, Moony, I think he thinks he’s making it all up in his head.” Remus looks confused, a little like a small vulnerable animal in the forest, “why would he want to make it up?”
James replies softly, “he doesn't. He wants it to be real, I think he’s afraid it isn't.”
Remus looks at him through long eyelashes and deep amber eyes, voice softer than it’s ever been as he asks, “what do I do?”
“You open the door for his next outfit and then kick us all out so you can take it off of him,” James responds, whispering right into the hole in Moony’s ear and pulling back with a bursting smile and mischievous eyes. Remus immediately blushes and sputters, but opens the door and lets himself look at Sirius.
James is not upset when Remus asks them all to go loiter somewhere else while he and Sirius “pick up.” In fact, he smiles wider than he has in a while as Remus nods in his direction when he walks out the door, a small nervous smile tugging at his scarred lips.
Would you look at that, he thinks, they're figuring it out.
As the group descends the stairs the clock in the common room comes into view, taunting James as it’s small hand ticks closer and closer to the 12. It’s only 9 right now, so the group sprawls out on the furniture and begin discussing what they really think Remus and Sirius are up to right now.
Their suspicions are confirmed when they join them a couple hours later, hair messed up and both in Remus’ clothes. Oh, and Sirius is sporting a curious bruise right on the base of his neck.
He’ll let them figure out how to tell everyone soon enough. Though he’s not sure they’re necessarily hiding it. As in, Sirius quite literally sits in Remus’ lap when he folds his long limbs into the plush armchair next to the full couch. Everyone just smiles at them, and they only smile at each other.
James can’t wait for midnight.