December
December is Regulus’ least favorite month. It’s cold and gray and far too sad to account for any of the wide smiles he sees on everyone else's faces. People love December because they love Christmas. Christmas, which Regulus also hates.
He hates the tall green tree in the Great Hall, he hates the floating candles around it and the silly red and green balls that hang from its pine shedding limbs. He hates perfectly wrapped gifts that everyone exchanges on the last day before break, and he hates all the Christmas carols the choir sings at dinner.
It’s only a week into December, and Regulus is starting to feel it; the crushing sort of sadness that the month carries alongside picture perfect snow and peppermint candy every year. It’s like extra weight on his chest, pressing down between his lungs and stealing away all his breath each time he takes a step out of bed. His bed is warm, his blankets perfectly configured around him every morning. The ground is cold on his bare feet when he stands up, the shower too hot and none of his clothes quite comfortable.
None of his clothes, except that coat he still hasn’t given back to James. He wears it almost every day, and if that’s a little bit embarrassing then so be it. It’s the only thing warm enough to get him out of his room without a shiver. James is the closest thing to sunlight this month, with his umber skin and shining smiles. Regulus gets out of bed each morning now to watch James rise. To watch how he slyly tosses him a smile every time he enters the Great Hall for breakfast, to see him laugh and run his hands through his hair like the sun dancing atop tree tops.
So, it’s a week into December and Regulus is doing better than he was at this point last year. It’s December, and he’s okay. Because James greets him in the cold dark nights that used to haunt Regulus with a smile on his perfect lips, and kisses him with heat on his tongue. James, who hasn’t made Regulus talk about it yet, is brighter than the candles by the tree or the lights on the walls.
So this morning as he wakes, Regulus is excited to get out of bed. He stretches his sleep addled limbs with a yawn and rolls himself out of bed towards the bathroom in one languid motion. Evan is still sleeping in his bed, face flat in his pillow and legs tucked up to his side like a baby. Barty is up, sliding a pair of black dress shoes on over tall black socks.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Barty says through a grin as he looks up at Regulus’ drowsy face.
“Hmph,” is Regulus’ only response, nodding and shuffling to the bathroom to brush the nasty film of dreams off of his teeth.
“Looking lovely today, star boy, are you coming to Slughorn’s lunch thing?” Barty asks, lacing his left shoe and standing up to brush air off his trousers. He’s wearing a firmly pressed button up, white and thin as it stretches across his shockingly broad chest.
Barty isn’t an athlete, not particularly interested in quidditch or exercise at all for that matter, but he’s built strong like a grown man, broad and muscular under his clothes. Regulus might have had a little bit of a crush on him once, but he does his best to forget that ever happened.
“Nope,” Regulus replies, shaking thoughts of his younger pining self out of his head as he shakes out his curls in the bathroom mirror, “I’ve got plans.”
“Mmm,” Barty hums as he steps into the bathroom doorway, “going off to get off with your lusty lion?”
Regulus rolls his eyes so hard he thinks he sees his own brain for a moment, “Merlin, Barty, do you have to refer to them that way?”
Much to Regulus’ chagrin none of his friends had remembered his little coming out mishap when they were smoking that night in the greenhouse. At least, if they did they pretended not to. James remains genderless to them now, and Regulus isn’t quite sure how he’s planning on keeping it that way.
“Yes,” Barty says with an aggressive nod that makes his flat hair bounce atop his head, “it’s much better than just saying ‘Gryffindor Love Affair Partner’, though what I think would be best would be a name, perhaps?”
Barty is raising his left eyebrow high on his forehead when Regulus looks over at him, his arms are crossed as he leans on the door frame and his mouth is open in a teasing grin.
“Y’know what,” Regulus says with a smirk, “lusty lion is just fine.”
“Ugh,” Barty groans, raking his hands through his hair with a sigh, “please, Reg, I promise I won’t judge or tell anyone, not even Evan, mate. Please give me a name.”
Regulus pretends to be considering this proposition, tilts his head as if rolling the idea around inside. He hums lightly and strokes his chin as he grabs his tooth brush with his other hand.
“Interesting idea, that,” Regulus says with a nod as he squeezes a generous amount of toothpaste onto his wet toothbrush, “I’ll stick with the lusty lion, though.”
“Regulus!” Barty exclaims with a rather dramatic huff, “okay just a first initial. Give me the first letter of their name.”
Regulus actually does consider that for a moment, how many people in Gryffindor have a name that starts with J? It’s bound to be a decent amount, right? Then again, Regulus can’t be sure, in fact the only person he can think of is James. James would be the easiest to guess too, practically the head of his whole house. James is what people think of when you say Gryffindor.
“Nope,” Regulus eventually answers as he rinses toothpaste out of his now clean mouth, “sorry, Barty, but I really can’t tell you.”
Barty pouts at this but remains silent for a moment, just watching as Regulus wipes the lingering toothpaste off the corner of his mouth and turns to start the shower.
“Okay,” Barty says with a rather suspiciously nonchalant shrug.
“Okay?” Regulus asks as the shower starts, turning to raise a curious eyebrow at his friend.
“Okay,” he answers with a nod as he steps out of the door backwards, “I’ll just have to find out for myself.”
Regulus would literally rather tell Barty right now than risk Barty actually finding him and James together, but the thing is James hasn’t made Regulus talk. So they haven’t. So they don’t know if they can tell their friends things, they don’t even know if they have anything to tell. Regulus knows James could absolutely not tell anyone, besides Pettigrew since he already knows, but all he knows is that they’re friends.
Are they more than friends? Maybe that’s all there is to know.
Regulus, to his own surprise, kind of wants to talk to James about it. But it’s unfair, because James doesn’t really have anyone to tell. He absolutely cannot tell Sirius. He can’t tell Sirius’ apparent boyfriend either, since it would absolutely get back to him. Regulus could tell Barty and Evan, he could probably even tell Dorcas without anything getting out. No conflicts would arise other than what he expects would be rather intense teasing. James could lose his best friend, and Regulus knows all about how terribly it hurts to lose Sirius Black.
So Regulus just resigns himself to silence, shaking his head with an eye roll and hoping to Salazar that Barty isn’t serious as he closes the door on him and gets ready to shower.
“I will crack the code!” he hears Barty shout from the other side of the door as he steps into the hot stream of water.
“Piss off,” Regulus shouts back, fighting a small smile at his friend's sheer ridiculousness, “go eat slugs with Slughorn, prat.”
“Oh, you wish you were as cool as me and my slugs!” Barty shouts, but Regulus can tell he’s further away now, probably heading for the door now.
Regulus just stifles a laugh in his closed mouth and goes about showering. After a minute or so he hears the familiar sounds of Evan waking up, a loud groan and a faint mumbled curse. Regulus is shampooing his hair when he hears Evan’s feet hit the ground, and rinsing the foam out of his curls as he hears shuffling and yawning through the wall.
He showers quickly, rather in a rush now to get to the astronomy tower in time to meet James. He’s wrapped his waist in a towel just in time as Evan opens the door rather unceremoniously and greets him.
“Morning, Reg,” he says with a nod and a small wave, he seems unreasonably exhausted.
“You stay up late last night, Rosier?” Regulus responds as he holds the towel around his hips and shuffles to let Evan get to the sink and grab his toothbrush.
“Hmph,” Evan responds with a nod as he shoves his toothbrush into his mouth, looking at Regulus’ retreating figure in the mirror, “Bart made me play chess with him until 4,” he spits out a minty green line of foam, “Four in the morning, Regulus. Who plays chess that much?”
“Well, you could have just said no,” Regulus says, a knowing smile playing on his lips as Evan shakes his head.
“No, it wasn’t annoying until I woke up.”
“Alright, well, are you going to Slughorn’s lunch?” Regulus asks, changing topics to spare embarrassing Evan too much.
“Yeah,” Evan responds as he rinses his toothbrush under the faucet, “what time is it?”
“It’s ten right now, Barty already left though,” Regulus says as he leaves the bathroom to start grabbing his underwear.
“Oh,” Evan says with a small frown Regulus pretends not to see, “well, I’ll just have to get dressed now and shower tonight.”
Regulus nods as he slides a thick pair of black slacks over his legs, “when does lunch start?”
Evan turns to exit the bathroom now, stepping over to his dresser and opening the top drawer, “not until noon, but Slughorn likes to host extensive social hours before we even start eating, it’s important to get there early if you want to impress him.”
Regulus grabs a soft t-shirt from his dresser as he responds, “does he still write letters to your parents about the meetings?”
Regulus glances over at Evan as he slides the shirt over his damp hair, seeing him nod with a scowl as he says, “yeah, my father sends me letters after he reads them, too.”
“Suddenly I’m grateful my mother doesn’t like to talk to me,” Regulus says with a faux smile up at Evan’s figure as he buttons a shirt almost identical to Barty’s from earlier.
Regulus is in the Slug Club, and his mother did also read every letter Slughorn sent home about him, but in this last year Slughorn has started also sending her letters about how well he’s doing in class. He knows this because he received a letter from Walburga about a month into school this year detailing how he should start focusing on potions and become a potions master for the ministry when he leaves school. He just hopes those letters do enough to distract her from the fact she won’t be getting one about his presence at this meeting.
“Yeah,” Evan says with a sad huff of laughter, “the glories of having absolutely shite parents.”
Regulus doesn’t hate his parents though, not like his brother did. Regulus gets it; he’s the heir. He’s their next campaign, he’s what Sirius couldn’t be. If anything he understands them, especially after what happened with Sirius, he understands how important his role is, how crucial it is he behave correctly and follow their orders.
But Evan and Barty hate their parents. Rightfully so, but even then sometimes Regulus wonders about their loyalty. He does his best to just smile and nod, though, anytime the subject comes up.
“Mhm,” he hums in mock agreement as he grabs a thick wool sweater out of his drawers and slips it on over his shirt as Evan tucks his own shirt into his perfectly pressed trousers.
Rather abruptly the door slams open, banging into the wall behind it in a thunk followed by a loud, “goodmorning, lovers!” from a widely smiling Barty currently carrying two steaming plates of breakfast in his arms.
Regulus blinks at him in surprise as he says, “I thought you went off to Slughorn’s?”
Barty looks deeply offended by this accusation, “without my Evan? My, you wound me, would you really think me so disloyal?”
Regulus rolls his eyes at the blush he sees creep into Evan’s smile rounded cheeks.
“Right, how cruel of me to assume something so barbaric of you,” Regulus says as he grabs his socks off his bed to slide onto his shower soft feet.
“Yes, thank you,” Barty says as he kicks the door closed behind him and approaches Evan, “I brought breakfast!”
Evan smiles at that, reaching out to grab one of the plates before Barty gets the chance to drop it on his already rather messy bed, “I thought you’d gone ahead to Slughorn.”
Barty face returns to its dramatically offended state, jaw dropped open and hand on his chest as if clutching imaginary pearls, “Evan! You should know better of me,” he says as he sits on Evan’s bed. He has to scoot aside what appears to be an entire box of chocolate frog cards, and Evan’s sleeping pants before he cozies up crisscrossed at the foot of the mattress.
“I apologize,” Evan says, trying valiantly to bite back his laughter as Barty starts to chew vigorously on a piece of greasy bacon, “thank you very much for food.” Evan is smiling, pink cheeks and creased eyes, down at Barty like he very well might have just proposed to him. Regulus simply shoves his feet into his shoes and hides an internal eye roll at his idiots of best friends.
“Alright, well, I’ll leave you two to your little date, I’m off,” Regulus says as he grabs James’ jacket off the trunk at the end of his bed.
Evan and Barty both turn to him then, mouths stuffed against rather disgustingly open smiles.
“Going off with the lusty lion?” Evan says with the rise of an eyebrow, eliciting an eye roll from Regulus and a loud laugh from Barty who leans his head rather too casually against Evan’s stomach.
“Actually die,” Regulus says, shooting one last eye roll at Barty as he laughs helplessly against Evan, who is too busy looking down at Barty to even acknowledge Regulus’ threat. He opens and closes the door on them quietly, shuffling out of the room quickly and glancing at the clock in the common room as he approaches the exit.
It’s 10:15 now, and Regulus agreed to meet James at 10:30, but he’s quite sure James is already there. James has been rather excitable these past few weeks, always the first to their meeting spots, never the one to suggest they leave. Regulus isn’t quite sure what to do with it. He’s not quite sure he can admit to himself that maybe James is just as enamored by him as he is by James. Regulus has known his feelings for a while now, much longer than he’d care to admit, even to Pandora.
James is new. James is straight? James is James.
Regulus is worn, somehow insurmountably by his short 15 years of life. Regulus is very gay. Regulus is Regulus.
So, as Regulus makes his steady ascent to the astronomy tower, he feels rather at odds with this current situation. But he’s selfish, he always has been, it’s probably the only thing his brother knows about him anymore, so he’s going to let himself be selfish. He’s going to take what he can get of James, he’s going to indulge in the silence and secrets. He’s going to exist in James’ experimental phase and have to let it be enough.
It’s snowing, when Regulus opens the door to the platform of the tower, gentle flakes of white drift down from the sky behind James’ back-lit figure. He seems to be reaching out, as if he’s trying to catch them or touch them, but the lip of the roof extends past his arms’ reach. He’s in a thick red sweater, wool and fuzzy, with a mock neck that hugs the soft skin of his neck tight around the base. The sweater is slightly too big for him, a little long dipping down past his hips, and the sleeves cover half his hands.
He’s wearing muggle denim jeans, the kind that bellow out around the calves and hug him tightly on the thighs. They’re dark blue, lined with worn strands of denim and some small frays at the bottom bell part that surround his white high top shoes. There’s a jacket laid over the railing beside him, it’s a dark brownish black, thick and heavy looking with fluffy fleece peeking out of the collar.
“Hi,” Regulus says quietly as he approaches James, the taller sweater clad boy turns to his voice, a wide smile dancing on his snow lit face as he takes in Regulus.
“Hello, love,” James says as he reaches out for Regulus like a man pulling his wife into bed, Regulus does his best not to let that image get to him. He also tries his best to pretend the blush that erupts on his face at the name is from the cold of the December snow.
James pulls him in by the arms of his sweater, which he has tugged down over his fingers against the cold. He tugs at the inch of fabric that hangs down past Regulus’ cold fingers and pulls him into his broad chest, holding him against him as they face out at the Scottish snow as it dusts the grounds.
James, Regulus is learning, is definitely a physical touch person. He’s very generous with himself, always letting Regulus touch, always letting him feel. He always has a hand on Regulus now, in his hair when they kiss, on his waist when they stand across from one another, on his leg when they sit beside each other. Regulus is absolutely not complaining.
“Hi,” Regulus says again, suddenly engrossed by thoughts of how James feels, how he smells and how warm he is against the frozen world. He feels James chuckle at that, feels the soft huff of laughter shake his chest and bounce Regulus’ hair atop his head. He hides his smile on the top of Regulus’ hair, he can feel James’ nose against his scalp.
“Yes, hello,” James says into Regulus’ hair, he can feel the warmth of him seep through his scalp, he can feel it turn his brain to mush and burn all the ghosts in his memories, replacing them with fondness of the present. Regulus feels himself sink into it.
“Do you want to go to the forest?” James asks, pulling away slightly to look down at Regulus with an arm around his waist, “I know it’s a Hogsmeade weekend so I was thinking maybe we could get out without anyone seeing.”
Regulus nods and feels himself smile at James’ soft eyes, “that sounds nice,” he says, very aware of James’ hand snaking up and under his jumper at the base of his back, “it’s cold though, and snowing, I mean, obviously, but- uhm,” he starts to stutter as James’ hand fully enters his sweater, broad warm palm covering the bare small of Regulus’ back, “well it’s cold.”
James laughs, dipping his head down to let it slip out of his lips and trickle over Regulus’ fiercely pink face, “yes, it is, that’s why they invented warming charms.”
Regulus hates being flustered. Hates how it makes him lose all the well bred mannerisms his parents hammered into him, hates how it makes him stutter and blush and shuffle back and forth on his feet.
But he likes James. He likes how he smiles back at Regulus, likes how he kisses his blushing cheeks and listens earnestly through his stuttering. He likes how after he says that sentence he dips down and kisses Regulus’ forehead, which should make him feel like a child but instead makes him naturally lean into James, makes him chase his warmth and burrow into his chest.
“Right,” Regulus says, pulling away from James now to head towards the door of the tower, “shall we go now?”
“In a hurry are we?” James asks with that stupid James Potter smile plastered on his stupid beautiful face.
“Just figured if we want to get back before dinner we should make the most of our time,” Regulus responds as he twists the door knob. James follows him with a laugh, “aw,” he coos down into Regulus’ ear, “you want to spend time with me.”
He’s smiling like a child who just got dessert before bed, soft pink lips Regulus knows taste like candy stretched against his perfectly sharp teeth. Regulus just rolls his eyes.
“No, but you seem to insist on spending time with me, so, I figured I should practice more acts of kindness,” Regulus says as he opens the door and checks to make sure nobody else is lingering in the halls. Most everyone is either in Slughorn’s stupid club meeting lunch or down in Hogsmeade for the day.
James, the idiot, laughs at Regulus’ comment and even has the audacity to grab his hand as they exit the tower, “whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Regulus, yet again, just rolls his eyes. He lets James hold his hand, though, as dumb as that might be while literally walking through the sunlit halls of Hogwarts on a Saturday. He’s indulging. He’s selfish.
“I brought food, by the way,” James says from beside him as they descend the stairs towards the Great Hall, “grabbed a couple servings of breakfast from the kitchens, shrunk them into my coat pocket- oh and I got you an entire plate of sausage!”
Regulus has to look out of the window to hide the smile that causes to rip open his face, suddenly very interested in the color of snow as it falls through stained glass towards the ground. He ends up just nodding at James, a subtle smile on his tightly closed lips as he looks up at the sunny boy, offering him a tilt of his head as thanks.
There’s a small group of second year girls down the hall, not yet old enough to go to Hogsmeade, and Regulus immediately stops walking. He lets James continue on ahead of him, tossing him a nod in the direction of the girls when he looks back confused.
The girls look at James like he’s a poster on a wall, like they want to kiss him goodnight and touch his face with their hands. Regulus wants to throw up, quite literally just projectile vomit, when one of them does walk up to him. He lingers at the end of the hall as he watches one of the five girls approach James tentatively, her friends hanging back and snickering amongst themselves.
“Hi, James, I’m Emory,” the small girl says to James, who, much to Regulus’ upset, is grinning at her with something akin to actual genuine joy, “I, uhm, was wondering if you were going to be at the Ravenclaw party this weekend?”
James is in his jock stance, the one Regulus blushed and blubbered over those weeks ago when James wore that stupid dream inducing crop top. Regulus suddenly has the violent urge to kick a little girl.
James nods through his smile as he says, “was planning on it, yeah, will you be there?”
And, ugh, James Potter is flirting with a 12 year old girl. Regulus wants to bash his head against a wall. He also kind of wants to bash her head against a wall. He really just needs to bash someone's head against a wall.
The girl blushes and looks down at her feet as she nods, “if you will, yes,” she looks up at James now as her friends behind her whisper amongst themselves, nobody has even noticed Regulus is in this hallway yet, “I’ll see you there?”
James nods again, offering her a subtle wink, “you sure will.”
Regulus Black is two seconds away from imprisonment.
The girl’s friends pull her away now and erupt into fits of giggles and blushes as they continue down the hallway, passing Regulus like he’s a brick in the wall. He is feeling very violent.
It hits him that he's actually feeling genuinely jealous over a twelve year old girl. He is jealous over a child because James Potter indulged her in her childish crush. James isn’t his. James is not his. He reminds himself of that as he watches her retreat down the hall, and wills himself to stop feeling that violent churning in his gut when James returns to him.
“Sorry about that,” James says with a smile, a different one than he gave to the girl, this one is less forced, it looks like him, like warmth and the color red, “you know how some of the younger girls can be.”
Regulus rolls his eyes at this and starts waking past James and down towards the Great Hall, “no, I actually do not.”
Jame catches up quickly, a very confused expression broadcasted on his features, eyebrows raised and lip bitten, “well, uhm, it kind of happens a lot to me.”
Regulus just scoffs and begins his descent down the final staircase towards the front doors of the castle, “right.”
“Are you upset?” James asks, still right at his side, reaching for his arm as they reach the doors.
“You just flirted with a literal twelve year old,” Regulus says as he tugs the door open, stepping out quickly, trying to escape that weird feeling that won’t let him just hold James’ hand again.
“It was just me being nice, Reg, I was literally just responding to what she was saying.”
“You were flirting,” Regulus says as he starts booking it down the hill towards the distant tree line.
“No? I wasn’t?” James seems genuinely confused, and Regulus remembers that he’s quite literally an idiot.
“Yes, you were, you did that whole ridiculous jock stance and literally winked at her,” Regulus says through a huff as he slides a little against a random bit of ice beneath a thin layer of snow. James grabs him by the waist before he can fall, holding him steady and stopping them in front of the line of trees.
“And? I like winking, I’m a good winker,” James says, Regulus is holding back a rather intense urge to puke.
“Oh, shut up, James, you were flirting with her,” Regulus responds, ripping himself from James and entering the forest quickly.
“Why are you so upset about this right now? You’re the one who dropped my hand,” James says as he follows him, quickly stepping in front of him and blocking his path, not that he really has a path to follow, really.
“I’m not upset,” Regulus says through a firm scowl, he can feel the cold seeping into his cheeks.
“Then why are you looking at me like I cursed your cat?” James asks exasperatedly, sighing and raising his arms to the sky as if he’s calling upon some higher power. Regulus feels himself sigh.
“I’m not upset, I just don’t think you should flirt with little girls,” he says as he stares at the tangled roots beneath his snow wet shoes.
“Reg, will you look at me,” James lowers his face so it’s even with Regulus’, reaching out to tilt his chin up with a warm finger, “I did not flirt with her, in fact the only person I’ve flirted with in the past month has been you.”
Regulus hates being flustered. Damn James Potter.
“Well,” Regulus stalls, searching for some sort of response to that and feeling the green monster of jealousy seep out of his pores as James holds his cold face in his warm hands, “well.”
“Mhm,” James says as he steps closer to Regulus, his forehead falling to rest against Regulus’, “no need to be jealous over a random girl, love.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” Regulus huffs out with a pout, feeling James’ hands snake back and into his hair, hot against his scalp, warming where the cold snow has melted on his curls.
“Sure,” James hums as he leans down to press a small kiss to Regulus’ nose, “but if you were, not saying you were just uhm, hypothetically, you don’t need to be.”
Regulus sniffles a bit of cold out of his nose, “I have no reason to be jealous, James, you can flirt with whoever you want to.”
“I only want to flirt with you, you idiot,” James says, eliciting a scoff from Regulus as he frowns at the name, “I just mean, if you weren’t sure where I stand, and you thought I wanted to run off with random girls whose names I don’t even know, you’d be wrong.”
Regulus rolls that over in his head. He chews on those words, the hidden promises within, feeling them burrow inside his bones and heat his blood as it flows. James could have just said a lot of things, he could have just said he wants Regulus, he could have just said Regulus is an idiot. Regulus feels himself lean against James.
“Right,” Regulus says, looking up to see James’ earnest eyes pouring into his own.
“Just, uhm, so you know,” James says, suddenly nervous, shuffling back and forth on his feet and pulling his hands away from Regulus and shoving them into his pockets. Regulus knows he needs to reassure him, he knows he needs to make the same statement and tell him he’s his. The thing is he doesn’t know if he can.
“James, what do you mean?” Regulus asks, hoping he just forgets it and they can move on.
“I mean,” James starts, looking down at his feet and back at Regulus with a soft smile and open eyes, “I’m all yours. If you’ll have me.”
And, Merlin, he’s known this boy for a little over a month. A single month. And, sure, he’s been head over heels for him since he was 12, but James has no idea what he’s saying. James has not been enamored by Regulus for 3 years, he hasn’t been tripping over himself when he sees him in the halls, in fact he hardly ever even saw him. Regulus isn’t sure if he can trust that, that overwhelming proclamation.
He guesses he doesn’t really have to, to know that he can reciprocate it. He’s been James’ since that train ride 5 years ago.
But James doesn’t know what he’s saying. James is all or nothing, Regulus knows this, he’s all in and then all out. Regulus isn’t sure if it’s smart for him to let himself have .
So he just kisses him. He stands on his tiptoes and kisses James with such fervor he worries the heat from him will start a wildfire. Kissing James is all he needs. James knows how to kiss, he knows what he’s doing, how to do it, where to do it. Regulus can let himself have this.
Regulus can let James kiss him. He can let his hands slip up and under the sweater he put on that morning, he can let his fingers dig into the skin at his waist. He can let James bite at his bottom lip and tug at his hips, he can let him push him against a tree and kiss his neck, he can let himself have this.
This is safe. This isn’t confessions and truth, as revealing as it can be, Regulus can let himself kiss James. He lets himself tangle his fingers in his unruly snow damp hair, and lets himself taste the toothpaste James uses when he wakes up. He can let himself gasp, and feel, because he doesn’t have to think. And Regulus cannot let himself think about this.
So, when James has him like this, he doesn’t have to. He just feels, his mind wanders away somewhere far and dark and he only exists in the sunshine pouring out of James Potter’s lips.
James pulls him in, quick and forceful by his waist, holds him right up against himself and presses into his mouth with his tongue. Regulus stops worrying about anything else as soon as he feels the soft gasp of air James releases when Regulus lets him in. Regulus melts into James, heated up and gooey from his sun bathed skin on his, he lets himself feel, feel, feel.
Soon enough one of them pulls away, though Regulus can’t be sure which one of them did. James traces the shape of Regulus’ jaw with his soft hands and Regulus tries not to kiss him again, they did have plans today after all.
“Are we going to the same spot?” Regulus asks as he regains his breath, looking up at James’ soft awed smile with his own. James answers him with a small nod, something unspoken dancing on the flick of his tongue against his wet lips.
“Yeah,” James says as his hands slide down from Regulus’ jaw to his wrists, his hands tangling with Regulus’ own as they reach one another. He drops Regulus’ left hand as he turns around and starts their journey deeper into the forest, holding his right hand gently in his broader palm as they step over roots and twigs.
“What did they have for breakfast?” Regulus asks as he trails behind James, feeling that familiar tug of hunger deep in his gut.
“Well, sausage of course, but I grabbed us some fruit too and a couple of hot cakes,” James responds as he navigates them both around a particularly large tree. A few of the roots trip Regulus up as he finds it rather difficult to watch where he’s walking when James Potter is the one in front of him.
“Lovely,” Regulus responds as James parts the vines and pulls them through to the snow dusted clearing. The white flurries cling to the dipping branches around them like something out of a postcard, and James looks oh so beautiful amongst it all. His bronzed skin shimmers with reflections of the pale snow, and his nose is slightly red from sniffling. His lips are wet from how he keeps licking them and his eyes are lined by snow catching lashes.
Regulus just watches as James lets go of his hand and casts some sort of clearing spell on a small patch of snow, warming the ground before he pulls a small piece of fabric out of his pocket. He charms the fabric to grow into a rather decently sized blanket and drapes it over the warmed Earth. He lines it with plates of berries and sausage and hot cakes before pulling literal pillows out of his jeans, charmed, shrunken and quite hilarious as he sets their small frames down.
“Did you bring those for your dolls?” Regulus asks, teasing tone lost to an unavoidable endearment.
“Just for you, doll,” James responds with a wink before enlarging the pillows and sitting himself down right on top of one. He motions for Regulus to join him and make use of the other, and as he does James so casually reaches out and helps him down with a firm hand on his back.
Regulus rolls his eyes at his comment but smiles despite himself, and feels his smile broaden when James casts a warming spell over their whole space, forming a sort of dome of warmth around them that the snow melts on as it falls.
“What would you like first, love?” James asks, grabbing the plates and scooting them closer as Regulus situates himself on his pillow.
“Sausage,” Regulus replies as he leans against James and accepts a fork from the taller boy’s hand. James slides the sausage plate up to Regulus’ crossed legs and smiles widely as Regulus spears one on his fork with a grin.
“What is it about sausage that you love so much?” James asks as he watches Regulus chew, and Regulus feels a little bit of grease seep out of his lips when he has to fight back a smile at James’ earnest eyes. James wipes it away with his thumb and Regulus now has to fight back the urge to bite him.
“It’s just so good,” Regulus says as he swallows and grabs for the plate of fruit James has been hogging, “I mean, it’s just yummy.”
James laughs at this, holds his stomach and shakes so hard Regulus has to lean away from him to avoid being collateral damage.
“It’s yummy, is it, baby?”
“Don’t call me baby,” Regulus says immediately, a frown on his face as he glares at James’ still giggling figure. He hides his content in the warming charmed blush on his cheeks and the soft tickling in his stomach as he watches James’ smile widen.
James literally pouts at him, puckering out his bottom lip and fluttering his eyelashes as he says, “why not?”
Regulus just scoffs and bites into a rather robust blue berry. James, as always, can not leave well enough alone and starts to drape himself over Regulus. He lays his head in his lap and extends his legs down the blanket as he stares up at him with such sweet annoying puppy dog eyes.
“Because I am a grown person,” Regulus says casually, dropping another blueberry directly into James’ eye. James just laughs and rolls it into his mouth somehow using his nose and the tilt of his head.
“You’re fifteen, you’re a baby,” James says, much to Regulus' displeasure, and Regulus swiftly lifts up his knee directly into the back of James’ skull. He exclaims with a shout but quickly recovers and lays back down, inching up Regulus’ chest and forcing him down as well, “okay, so you’re my baby.”
“Piss off,” Regulus says with an eye roll all around his head, laying down now since James has decided to drape himself right on top of him like an exceptionally heavy weighted blanket.
“Baby,” James pleads as he clambers up Regulus' flat body, sliding his face right into the crook of Regulus' neck and breathing magic all over the skin there, “come on, admit it, it’s cute.”
“No,” Regulus says as he wraps his arms around James’ chest above him, holding him there as he wiggles into place.
“Oh, come on, Reg, you like it I can tell,” James says into his neck, his messy hair tickling Regulus’ ear and his long legs tangling with Regulus’ own.
“How, James, can you tell that if I’m quite literally saying the opposite?”
James leans up on his elbow, hovering above Regulus as Regulus’ hands start to trace shapes on his broad back, “you smile when I say it, and you’re blushing.” James states both his pieces of evidence rather matter of factly, and drives his last one into place with a nose nudge at Regulus’ rather flushed cheek.
“It’s cold,” Regulus says as James presses a small kiss to his cheek.
“No it isn’t, got a warming spell quite literally all around us,” James says with a smile he tucks into Regulus neck like a secret.
“Okay, well then it’s too hot,” Regulus says as he tries to catch his breath when he feels the ghost of James’ lips just under his ear.
James The Flirt Potter huffs a soft laugh into Regulus’ skin before whispering in his ear, “you’re too hot.”
Regulus wants to find that absolutely repulsive, he wants to be disgusted and embarrassed. Regulus has to hide his blush in James’ hair.
“Shut up,” he sighs into his soft brown hair, burying his pale nose in the loose curly waves atop James’ head.
“You wish,” James says, finally sitting back up and letting Regulus return to his previous position as well.
“I do,” Regulus says with a small eye roll as he picks his fork back up, “I really do.”
James just smiles that million dollar smile up at Regulus. Regulus forgets he’s not supposed to indulge.