Crescendo
“You’re holding it upside down,” Regulus told him.
James frowned, looking at the map. “I don’t think so.”
“The words are literally upside down.” He looked a bit closer, but James could hardly see the words anyway, they were so tiny. Regulus reached over to forcibly turn it around, but it did not make the map any easier to read. “Do you know how to read a map?” he asked, judgement in his tone.
James laughed a little, handing it over to Regulus. It was a mess of lines and street names that he didn’t understand or recognize. Of course he didn’t know how to read a map.
Regulus looked at it with the same expression James did.
“You don’t know how to read a map either!” James pointed out, feeling a bit satisfied in knowing that they were both at a loss.
“Oh, shut up.”
He shook his head in amusement, smiling down at Regulus. “Hypocrite.”
“I never claimed not to be,” Regulus said, starting to fold the map up. It was likely not going to be of any help to them. James still counted the trip to the petrol station as not a complete waste though, they had snacks now. And if there was one thing American’s did right, it was snackfood.
“Well, yeah but you were giving me shit for it,” James said, stuffing the map into the plastic bag that was filled with an assortment of sweets. And something salty for Regulus, as James was finding he did not have as much of a sweet tooth as James did.
He shrugged, slowing his pace a little, probably realizing that they were still completely lost. “You’re older.”
“And that means I automatically know everything you don’t?”
“Yes, obviously,” Regulus said, his expression deadpan.
They had stopped walking completely now, they had nowhere to go. “When’s your birthday?” James prompted. At the very least, this was information he should know about his friends, because he and Regulus were nothing but very good friends. Additionally to prove a point.
“23rd of December.”
James grinned. “We were born in the same year,” James said, feeling the need to point it out. “I’m not that much older than you.
“Nine extra months is enough time to learn how to read a map,” Regulus informed him.
And, honestly, James barely heard anything after that. Regulus clearly knew the date of his birthday, at least to the month, and that small fact made him so ecstatic. James was almost certain he had never told him, never even spoken about his birthday to Regulus before. There wasn’t much point, anyway. It was early September and his birthday was all the way in March. But…he knew. He knew and he found out some other way and…
“Why do you look like that?” Regulus said, his voice snapping James out of his trance.
A bit dazed, James looked back at him. He wasn’t going to say it, really it didn’t matter. But the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he had much of a chance to stop them. “You know my birthday.”
“No, I don’t,” Regulus said, quick to deny it.
James quirked an eyebrow, deciding to let Regulus delude himself for now. He sat down on the curb, still not far from the petrol station, just watching the cars pass by. He needed to figure out a way to get them back before Regulus decided to actually murder him. This was, after all, mostly his fault. Although he never forced Regulus to go on a walk with him, he came of his own accord. And, well, he was the one distracting James while they walked, otherwise he never would have wandered so far.
Of course, he didn’t say any of this. James knew that no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he was the one who led them astray with a false sense of confidence in their surroundings.
Regulus’ hands kept fidgeting as he sat down next to James, but he was clearly trying to keep it contained. James remembered the other thing he bought for Regulus.
He searched around the bag, the rumpling sound getting Regulus’ attention. He pulled the pack of cigarettes out and handed it to him. Regulus stared at the carton for a moment.
“Potter.”
“Hmm?”
“I just smoked all of yours.”
“I know,” James said. That was the reason he bought more. Clearly it was a stress thing Regulus did, and they were in a slightly stressful situation, if he thought deeply about it. They were lost, that was likely a stressful experience for most.
“And you bought me more.”
“Course I did.”
“James,” Regulus said, sounding like he was struggling deeply with something. He still wouldn’t meet James’ eyes.
“Regulus,” he parroted, unsure where the conversation was going. James felt everything though, every spot Regulus’ eyes trailed. His legs, his thighs, his arms. He could feel him breathing, each inhale more shallow than the one before it. There was electricity between them, an invisible, intangible spark.
Regulus turned his whole body, facing James.
His lips were right there. They were so close, and he could just lean down and connect them. It would be so easy. So easy .
James thought he deserved a reward for how strong his resolve was. Really, what man would be able to resist the allure that is Regulus Black if they were in the same position? Their knees kept knocking together and he finally looked up to meet his eyes. He was waiting for Regulus to say something, it was his turn. And, simply, he did not know what to say. He was incapable of thinking of anything other than Regulus, his eyes, his mouth, him .
“You need to stop being nice to me,” Regulus told him, pulling back from how close they were sitting, having his own personal space. James liked it better when they were sharing, occupying the same area. It made him more comfortable, counteracting the heat outside by giving James a different type of warmth to focus on.
Regulus was cold, but he made James feel so warm inside. It was an addicting feeling. James would savor each hit he got.
“Why would I do that?”
“I’m not very nice to you.”
James frowned. Because that … that wasn’t true. Regulus had never made James feel bad, save for that one time James was mad at him for not coming to the show. But that hadn’t been justified, James didn’t know the real reason.
Sure, Regulus had some sharper edges, but James knew exactly where to poke and prod to get to what was really underneath it all.
“I think you’re nice,” James said matter-of-factly.
“Well that makes you an idiot.”
James beamed, twisting his feet into the ground just to have something to do. He had a hard time sitting still, and from the position they were sitting in it was hard to do much else. “Proud to be.”
Regulus sighed deeply, relenting and pulling a cigarette out of the new pack. “This is my point, you know?”
“What is?”
With the cigarette dangling between his lips, Regulus turned his head to look at him, a half smile on his face. If James didn’t know any better, he would say Regulus looked relaxed. “I called you an idiot and you smiled, James. That isn’t normal.”
Truthfully, James never thought that deeply about his reaction to Regulus saying mean things to him. In his mind, it was Regulus’ way of showing he actually liked someone. James had seen Regulus with other people, strangers and friends. He was always indifferent to strangers, but he was never indifferent to James.
“I like it.”
After Regulus didn’t respond, James turned his head to look at the sky. It was practically impossible to see the stars when in a city as busy as Las Vegas, but James still liked to look. And then, out of nowhere, Regulus laid his head on James’ shoulder, reminding him he had his own star sitting to his left, burning brighter than anything else in the night sky. He was careful not to move too much, not wanting to jostle Regulus, wanting to keep the star for as long as he could.
James needed to get them back. He never intended to keep them out all night, and James was starting to feel tired too, the events of the day dragging him down the more he thought about them. It was hard not to feel like everything was against him, after the past twenty four hours. Management was being impossible, not letting them be themselves. His ex-girlfriend was a… well. He didn’t know how to phrase it in a nice way, so he decided to just let that thought stay as it was.
Really, he wanted to go to bed.
James tried to put a positive spin on things, but this was turning out to be quite taxing for him at three in the morning, if that’s even what time it was. Perhaps the only thing grounding him here was Regulus.
“Reg?”
“Hmm?” he said, not opening his mouth. James couldn’t see his face, but he imagined Regulus had closed his eyes.
“I’m gonna go use the phone,” he told him, referring to asking the petrol station clerk.
Regulus shot up and James mourned the warmth of Regulus pressing into him. “No, you’re not.”
“What? Why not?” Did Regulus not want to go back to the hotel? To be able to sleep in a bed and not on James’ shoulder. Not that he minded, of course. He’d let Regulus do whatever he wanted.
“I’ll do it.”
“Who are you gonna call?” Regulus seemed to freeze, probably remembering that he didn’t really know anybody’s phone number. James figured he could ask his mum to call Sirius. It was morning for her by now, she would probably be awake. Hopefully. “I got it, okay?”
“I’m coming with you.”
James didn’t bother trying to change his mind, he knew Regulus well enough to know that he did not change his mind often, and this was one of those fights that wasn’t worth it. Plus, he didn’t exactly want to leave Regulus alone in the middle of the street. He knew enough about the states to know that it wasn’t a good idea.
He let Regulus take the lead too. He was far too tired to defend himself to a racist. Of course James had noticed, he wasn’t stupid. But it happened often enough to him that he knew it simply did not matter what he said or did, some people would see him as nothing more than brown and be scared.
“Can we borrow your phone?” Regulus asked, not offering a greeting, his words perhaps a bit too sharp. James wanted to remind him that they were asking him for a favor, but he kind of liked it, so he stayed quiet and tried not to smile.
“What?”
“Your phone.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why do you need it?”
Regulus took a deep breath. “To make a phone call.”
The man looked between both of them and then back at Regulus. “Forty bucks.”
James opened his mouth to protest but Regulus put his hand out to stop him, hitting him in the stomach. He pulled a fifty dollar note out of his pocket and slid it across the counter, holding his hand out and waiting for the phone, which the man gave him reluctantly.
Regulus handed it to James, which made the man start arguing with him.
James let Regulus handle it and dialed his mum’s number, the only one he knew by heart. She didn’t answer the first time, probably both for the fact that it was a U.S number and that she didn’t have it saved. He dialed it again, and this time she picked up.
“Hello?”
James smiled instinctively. He didn’t talk to his mum enough. “Hey mum,” he said. The conversation between Regulus and the man was still going on, although James could barely hear it. He had half a mind to stop them, knowing that Regulus could get mean, and not in the way James tended to like. But Effie was on the phone and she distracted him from all of that.
“James! Oh, I was going to call you later! What time is it there?”
“Umm, like almost four,” he said.
“In the morning?”
“Yes.”
“James, whose phone is this?”
“Mum, I promise I’ll call you later. But for right now can you call Sirius for me?”
“What? Why?”
He could tell she was starting to worry, which was never his intention. “I’m safe, I promise. Just got a bit lost. Can you ask him to pick us up? We’re at a petrol station on fifth street.”
“And you’re okay?”
“I’ll explain it all later,” he told her, eyes flicking back to Regulus. He didn’t yell when he was mad, but he had a certain look on his face that was almost deadly calm. He was using it on the man, who actually looked scared of him now. They needed to get out of there.
“Okay, I’ll call him.”
***
Regulus was actually a bit sad when James finished his phone call. He wasn’t done threatening the man. Which he knew was not a good idea, but James left him unattended and Regulus was overtired, so he couldn’t help it.
“Did you say something to him?” James asked. They went back outside to essentially the same spot they were sitting in before, just a couple meters away from the petrol station.
“No,” Regulus lied.
James seemed to try to fight a smile, looking away from Regulus like he was trying to be mad at him but simply couldn’t be. The fact actually made Regulus smile, knowing James couldn’t really be mad at him. Not for this, anyway.
Regulus kept getting this overwhelming urge to touch James. It was frustrating, too, because Regulus did not want to be touched. He did not want James to put his arm around him or touch his cheek tenderly, but he wanted to rest his head on his shoulder and press their bodies together closely so that they were touching each other, except they weren’t.
He didn’t know how to ask for any of this, though. He was never good at asking for what he wanted, not when he wasn’t even used to getting what he needed.
“My mum, Effie, she said she’d call Sirius for us,” James said, breaking the silence
James was sitting so close. It was infuriating. He was right there, and he was dealing with Regulus’ attitude, and he was saying nice things to him, and he just existed like that, and it was unfair. He was unfair. His skin was warm, his arms brushing against Regulus’ everytime he moved or readjusted his position until they were simply pressed together. He wasn’t touching him, but they were touching. Regulus wondered if he had asked out loud, or perhaps James had read his mind, because it wasn’t overbearing, and Regulus had complete freedom to move away. He didn’t, he couldn’t fathom it.
“Want to play a game?”
Regulus glanced up to find James already looking at him. “A game?”
“Until Sirius gets here, you know? Pass the time?” he suggested, his smile opening up a part of Regulus that he had long tried to keep buried.
Oh.
Regulus suddenly felt ridiculously fond of James, and he wondered how he was able to spend so much time convincing himself they were just friends. Regulus didn’t want to be just friends. He wanted James in every way he could get him, it was consuming. And maybe it shouldn’t have snuck up on him the way it did, maybe he should have noticed that first night at James’ hotel door in the way his heart thrummed a bit harder against his chest. Or when Regulus was in the hospital and had to force himself to hate James. Maybe he should have noticed when he realized he didn’t mind James’ presence. James was always there and Regulus actually wanted him to be.
But no, it took him until now to realize it.
He likes James.
Oh.
He really, really likes him.
And what was he supposed to do with that? Really, what was he supposed to do? He was never one for speaking about his feelings, not to anyone about anything, but this felt too big to keep to himself.
“What game?”
“Twenty-one questions,” James said without missing a beat.
Regulus cracked a smile, despite the anxiety now curling in his stomach, James made him smile. “What? Like favorite colors and dream vacations?” he asked.
“Blue and Spain,” James told him.
Regulus met his eyes, confusion evident in them. Just an hour ago James told him his favorite color was red. “No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is. Who wouldn’t want to go to Spain?”
He shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant,” Regulus said, still trying to figure him out. He felt as though his grasp on all that was James was slipping more with each passing second. Everything he thought he knew was wrong.
“Well you could ask, but you’ve already wasted two of your questions.”
“Those weren’t even my questions!”
“You asked them though. My turn.”
“No,” Regulus said, feeling suddenly defiant. He did not like everything flipping around on him, he did not like change.
“What is your biggest fear?” James asked, referencing the conversation they had earlier. The same one where he told Regulus that his favorite color was red.
“That’s really not fair, you know?”
“Yes, I know. And that’s your third question, by the way.”
Regulus’ smile grew, he couldn’t help it. James was perhaps the only person who could just twist him around like this. Everything he was saying, turning it around on him. It was fun. A bit infuriating, too, because he had plenty of questions he wanted to ask, but fun nonetheless. It distracted him from the new nerves that had settled in him. Since when was he nervous around James?
“The ocean,” Regulus told him, not even sure if it really was his biggest fear. He was sure there were things that scared him more than that, but it was the easiest and realest answer he could think of.
“Really?”
“That counts as one of your questions, by the way. And yes, really.”
“Why?”
“It surrounds us on all sides and we know almost nothing about it,” Regulus explained. “We’ve hardly explored it. The ocean is perhaps the most unforgiving thing on Earth, and yet we need it. Despite everything it takes, it gives too.”
James was staring, unabashedly. Regulus could have kept talking forever, about the ocean, about all of its metaphors and everything it represented. But James was staring and Regulus forgot everything he ever knew.
“3-3,” James said eventually, letting Regulus know it was his turn now.
And, because James asked him a deep and vulnerable question, Regulus figured that turnabout's fair play. “Why don’t you let people take care of you?” he asked.
He thought maybe he had pushed too far, already asked a question that James wouldn’t want to answer. He knew better than to ask his biggest fear, based on his earlier reaction. But this was something he wanted to know. Regulus was finding he wanted to know James, really know him. He wanted to crawl inside him and watch the way thoughts moved around his brain, which signals got sent where, how he was hardwired. Everything.
“I don’t need to be taken care of.”
“Everyone does.”
James sighed. “Can I have a cigarette?”
“Is that your fourth question?”
“Only if that’s your fifth.” Regulus smiled and handed him the pack. Their legs were pressed together now too, and Regulus fought the urge to intertwine them at the feet, to just be closer. “I know it’s a fault of mine. It’s just easier for me to worry about others, I guess,” he explained, lighting the cigarette after Regulus handed him the lighter. His lighter. James still hasn’t asked for it back, Regulus wanted to keep it. “Do you have any tattoos?”
Regulus felt his cheeks heat up a little bit. He did have a tattoo. Just one. One that he regretted deeply. James seemed to notice his embarrassment and tuned in even more, turning slightly and pressing their limbs impossibly closer.
“What is it? Where is it?” James asked excitedly, like a dog with a bone.
“That’s seven.”
James groaned, putting his head in his hands for a moment. And… well, it’s safe to say that the noise did interesting things to Regulus’ psyche. Yes, he’d probably be thinking about it for forever, now.
“Reg,” James said, his voice muffled by his hands.
“What?”
“I need to see your tattoo.”
He pulled his head up, looking at Regulus and literally pleading with him.
“You don’t even know what it is. Or where it is.”
“Does not matter.”
Regulus thought he was being a bit ridiculous, and he really did not ever want anyone to know this tattoo existed. But, reluctantly, he lifted his shirt up a little bit and pulled the hem of his sweatpants down, revealing the tattoo that sat on his right hip.
James leaned closer, actually removing all the pressure from Regulus’ body so he could lean down and see it better. All he had for light were the lampposts, so he got very close, his breath fanning across the now exposed skin.
And then he started laughing, which Regulus had expected, of course, and he backed away after swiping a finger across it once.
“Reg,” he said, a question in his voice but it was laced with unhideable amusement.
“I know,” he said, a bit defeated. He let his shirt drop back down into place.
James started cackling then, reeling back from the force of it. Regulus didn’t bother trying to stop him, he deserved it for ever getting the tattoo in the first place. He was drunk though, so he couldn't help much when it happened.
“I need the story behind it. Count it as one of my questions. Please,” James said, every part of his face smiling, his lips, his eyes, the crinkles by them. He found it hilarious.
Regulus leaned back on his hands with a sigh, kicking his legs out in front of him. “Barty and I were drunk one night. I mentioned something about wanting a tattoo. That was it.”
“Reg, you got his name tattooed,” James said, the laughter starting back up.
True enough, in bold lettering on his hip, was the name Bartemius Crouch Jr.
He still doesn’t know why he did it. It was the type of thing he would have thought through before, something so permanent. Actually, he likely never would have gone through with it. Regulus didn’t know how to deal with permanence, the idea of it actually scared him a little. For him, he was always waiting for something to end, because everything did eventually. His childhood, his career, even this night with James would come to a close soon. He found comfort in that fact, actually.
“I’m aware. It haunts me.”
“You have Bartemius tattooed on your hip!”
“I think we should move on now.”
James raised an eyebrow, his eyes trailing down to the spot now covered by his t-shirt. He nodded though, and sat in a similar position to Regulus. They weren’t close enough to touch anymore, but James must have orchestrated for his foot to just barely reach Regulus’. He had to fight not to blush.
“Floor is yours.”
His mind was still turning over the small point of contact, perhaps focusing in on it a bit too narrowly, he barely even heard James.
“Reg?”
“Hmm?”
“Your turn, love.”
Love
Regulus looked back up, but James was acting perfectly normal about it, reminding Regulus that he called everybody love. He wanted something special, something that was just for him.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Flower?”
“No?”
“Why not?”
“I’m not a flower, that’s why.”
James seemed to think this over for a moment. “Sugar?”
“Hard pass.”
“Okay. Any requests then?”
“Something different,” Regulus said because he was tired and his heart was just going through it, fluttering again with each word James spoke to him. His guard was down and he didn’t know how to put it back up, which meant he admitted things he never would have otherwise. He really needed Sirius to show up soon, before he said something he would actually regret.
“Different how?”
“Different like you don’t call other people it.”
“So just you, then?”
Regulus nodded. “Just me.”
James seemed to decide right then and there to cross his leg with Regulus’, twisting them together in a way that was subtle and yet wasn’t subtle at all. Although there was the possibility that Regulus was just reading into it, seeing things that weren’t there because he wanted to. The psychological phenomena where he only saw something because he was expecting to, blocking out everything else to have a one-track mind on whatever his brain had decided was true.
***
It was making his stomach flutter . There were literally butterflies, as if James were still a teenager, a lovesick teenager.
The thing was, he hadn’t even consciously done it, but when Regulus didn’t immediately pull away from him or tell James to fuck off, well James decided to enjoy it, the closeness between them.
All he had to do now was come up with a nickname that he didn’t call anybody else. James was never the one who came up with nicknames, that was mostly Sirius’ forte, and on occasion Remus. James preferred terms of endearment, calling his friends things that made them feel closer to him. But Regulus wanted his own, and James was more than happy to supply him with something. That is, as soon as he could come up with one.
“I’ll get back to you,” James promised him.
Regulus hummed, and James only had to wait a couple of moments before Regulus came at him with the next question. He wasn’t holding back, and while James had tried to steer it away from how serious it was, he knew there wasn’t much he could do. If you wanted to get to know someone, you had to ask the harder questions.
“What do you think about karma?” Regulus asked, his foot rocking back and forth, moving James’ leg with it. He liked the fact that they were moving in sync.
“I’ve never really thought about it,” James told him honestly. He felt as though that answer wasn’t sufficient enough though. He wanted to impress Regulus, and he seemed to have so many ideas and opinions already formed, he thought about things a lot, which probably reduced it a lot, but James didn’t know how else to explain it. Regulus simply spent a lot of time in his own head, he’s had time to think about what things matter to him and what things don’t. A luxury of those who keep quiet, they see and notice everything.
“Well, think about it now.”
So, he did. He thought out loud, which was probably not a good idea given how little he thought about karma as a concept. “I mean, what goes around comes around, I guess. But… well no. I mean, life’s unfair. If you do something bad and a bad thing happens- well, that’s just a coincidence. Just like if you do something bad and a good thing happens. So- I mean, it isn’t real, I guess. But karma is also the basis for a lot of the good that people do, because they think something good will happen in return.”
He was not eloquent in getting out his thoughts at all, working through everything right then and there. He liked to think that good things happened to good people, but he had seen good people go through some of the worst experiences. Sirius and Regulus, for starters. They never deserved any of what they got in their childhood, nobody did, no matter what they’d done. And they were just kids too, all they did was act the age they were before their parents forced them to grow up. So if karma was real then they should be reeling all of the good karma they’ve stayed up. But Regulus lost his job and Sirius was forced to stay in the closet and none of it was deserved.
“Karma’s bullshit,” James said to finish out his grand speech. It summed up essentially the conclusion he came to. Regulus was just sort of looking at him, his mouth open only slightly. It was an almost awestruck look, almost meaning Regulus would never give that sort of thing away, but James had gotten very good at understanding the subtleties of his facial expressions. “What?”
Regulus snapped out of whatever daze he had been in, although his eyes didn’t lose the glossed over look they had. “Your brain,” he said as if it explained everything.
“My brain?” James asked. The cigarette he was smoking basically burned down in between his fingers, he had barely taken a hit of it, too enraptured with his current company to care about keeping busy.
“I want to extrapolate it from your skull and study it,” he said. And… James did not know what to do with that information. Nobody had ever expressed anything like that to him before, and yet he felt like he knew exactly what Regulus meant by it.
“I think that’s perhaps the most erotic thing anybody has ever said to me,” James said before he could stop it. The idea of it was so intimate, somebody looking into the deepest parts of your brain, knowing every nerve, every divot and wrinkle, every memory laid bare.
To his credit, Regulus did not seem put off by his choice of words, except perhaps for the blush that settled across his cheeks. It had been slowly building for a couple of minutes now.
“I know for a fact that isn’t true. You have girls screaming much more obscene things to you every night.”
“Obscenity is different from eroticism.”
Regulus cleared his throat. “Your turn.”
James already had a question ready in his mind, one that he had been wanting to know for a while now. “What’s next?”
“Next?”
“Yeah.”
“Music.”
“Music?”
“That counts as a question.”
“I’m fine with that.”
Regulus took a deep breath. “Producing it. Not making it.”
James did not expect that. He didn’t have much of a clue as to what Regulus was going to do now that he was done with ballet, but he sort of assumed it would still be something in dance, teaching it perhaps. Although he should have known that Regulus likely did not have the patience to teach somebody ballet, James learned that first hand. Although that had been more about watching Regulus dance than actually any sort of desire to learn.
It sort of sparked something in him too; it reminded James of everything he was trying to accomplish with their management. First step would be finding a new producer, and he had no doubt that Regulus was fantastic at it, just from the way he had written a score for Marlene. James had listened to the demo, and it was really fantastic. Regulus would probably say no, which meant James needed to work up to asking him, not dumping it all on him at once.
He could be subtle, he would have to be subtle.
“You have two more questions, by the way,” Regulus told him.
And… no. No that couldn’t be true because James had hardly begun to ask all the things he wanted to. “How many do you have left?”
Regulus smiled. “Eleven.”
“What? How?”
“And you just got to twenty two.”
“That isn’t fair,” James said petulantly. He was fully prepared to throw a tantrum.
“Life isn’t fair.”
“Fine. Ask your eleven questions.”
“Gladly,” Regulus said, shifting a little bit to get more comfortable. The concrete wasn’t exactly very comfortable. “Why did you say blue was your favorite color?”
“Because it is,” James said simply.
“But you said red earlier?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because it was.”
“But it isn’t anymore?”
“It is not,” James affirmed, having a bit too much fun dancing around the truth.
“Why is it blue?”
“Because, I saw a blue that I liked.”
James was being very intentional with his answers. He couldn’t exactly tell Regulus that the blue he liked so much was only found in his eyes. Regulus would either hate him for it or make fun of him for it, and this was the kind of thing he decided to keep to himself.
“What kind of blue?”
“A light blue.”
“Specifically.”
“Ask in the form of a question,” James told him. He was trying to get them to run down. It was working.
“What kind of light blue specifically?” Regulus said with a sigh.
“Like a gray blue.”
“A gray blue?”
“Yes. It’s really a rather lovely color.”
Regulus narrowed his eyes for a moment (James actually really did love his eyes, there was so much hidden in them that he couldn’t wait to uncover). “Okay. Why do you put so much sugar in your coffee?”
James couldn’t help but smile at the change of subject. He was ticking down how many questions Regulus had left, and how many he had wasted just on the subject of James’ favorite color. He now only had two left. “I like it sweet. And I don’t like the taste of coffee.”
The sound of a car pulling up made Regulus separate from James, squinting past the headlights to see who it was. He mourned the feeling of them being so close, but he understood. Regulus had never meant to let James in, and the moment he realized it was happening he took a step back.
Sirius stepped out of the backseat, Remus with him. James would definitely be asking him about that later, because unless they were already together there wouldn’t be much of a reason for him to be there. Sirius was being very tight-lipped about everything with Remus though, and he didn’t want to push. He well knew the desire to have something just for yourself, for he was doing the same thing with Regulus, hiding his feelings and true wants just so they could exist in this perfect bubble for a bit longer.
“What the fuck?” he asked, the very first thing. He looked exhausted, Effie probably woke him up. James could feel bad about it later.
James stood up with a big smile. “Padfoot! Oh how happy I am to see you!” James said, bringing him in for a hug. He didn’t want his night with Regulus to end, but he was dangerously close to falling asleep and letting them just leave him for dead in the middle of the street.
“Do you have any idea how many petrol stations there are on this street?” Sirius said, practically melting in James’ embrace, not hugging him back but not pulling away either. It showed even more just how tired he was.
“You found us though,” James said, squeezing him a little tighter.
“Get in the car,” Sirius said, pushing him away and towards the open door. There was a driver in the front who looked quite unamused with all of them, James would be sure to give him a good tip.
As he climbed in the backseat he saw Remus helping Regulus off the ground, the two of them nodding at each other silently. That was just how they communicated, he supposed. They had a weird sort of bond, and every time they were alone together they mostly just stayed silent. James found it odd, but also kind of sweet. A sort of twisted brotherhood and understanding existed between them, one that James knew he would never be able to even try to understand.
“Mum called me in the middle of the night, I thought somebody had died,” Sirius said, still complaining about being woken up in a cold panic because his phone kept going off.
“I tried to avoid it,” he mumbled with his eyes closed, trying to offer some sort of excuse for his actions. Really and truly he thought they would be able to make it back.
“And who doesn’t bring their phones? Idiots, the both of you.”
James was so tired he kept doing the thing where his head would drop and he would jolt back up. Regulus was sitting right next to him, and he never pushed James’ head off when it accidentally fell on his shoulder. He sat there silently, not commenting on Sirius’ rant. Remus was the only one actually entertaining him, responding to each sentence with encouragement and validation.
The car ride was relatively short though, so James only was able to sleep for at most a couple of minutes, not even realizing when his eyes fluttered shut completely until Regulus was shrugging him off.
“Wake up,” he said, poking at him.
He vaguely recognized that the car had stopped moving, but he was so comfortable. He settled even deeper into Regulus’ shoulder, his head practically resting on his chest. “No.”
“Potter. We’re here,” Regulus said, forcibly lifting his head up. Remus and Sirius were already out of the car, headed towards the doors and not waiting for them. Regulus paid the driver and opened the door, James followed him out, not opening his eyes too much so that when he actually got to the bed he could just crash.
Just after they parted ways to go to their separate rooms, there was a knock at James’ door. He wanted to sleep.
He opened the door to see Regulus standing there and he no longer cared about going to sleep.
“Missed me already?” he asked, leaning against the door. The situation brought him back to the first time he met Regulus, back when James’ music was too loud and Regulus was still in the ballet.
“Not quite,” he said, looking down at his feet. “I left my room key in my room.”
Sleep in my bed. Just stay here with me .
“Convenient,” James mused, already opening his door to let Regulus inside.
After a pause he accepted the invitation, stepping inside. “I’m just going to bed.”
“Right. Yes. Just bed.”
Regulus took one look around the room. “You can take the couch,” he told James.
***
He needed James to take the couch.
As in literally needed him to. He couldn’t be trusted otherwise. He was far too delirious and sleep deprived to be making any decisions; he knew he was about to make all of the wrong ones.
Regulus hadn’t forgotten his room key on purpose, but he was far too tired to go all the way downstairs and ask for a new one. And he was pretty sure Sirius was sleeping with Remus, and he did not want to share with them.
“I am sleeping on the bed,” James told him, already moving over to it. “Feel free to join me or you could take the couch for yourself.”
Okay, the thing was, Regulus was betting on James’ incessant need for being selfless, just this once. He was hoping that James would not listen to any of the advice that Regulus gave him and would be so willing that he just took the couch without a complaint. He recognized it was a selfish thing to want; he did. It didn’t end up mattering anyway. James learned to do things for himself, apparently, rather than for others. That was all great and fantastic, of course. Regulus just wished he would have waited until the morning.
The couches were uncomfortable and the bed looked inviting. James looked inviting. He knew that he would do something he would regret if he had to sleep in the same bed as James. He already had so many ideas. Ideas that were not appropriate for the circumstances at all.
He didn’t debate with himself for very long though. He was exhausted and James had taken off his shirt and Regulus was very weak where James was involved. He didn’t even care anymore. It scared the hell out of him, more than anything had in a long time. Regulus hardly got invested in people. It took a lot for him to even be okay with caring about Pandora and Dorcas, and especially letting them care about him. He just genuinely did not like for people to get close to him. And somehow, someway, he started letting James in without even realizing it; he just became such a constant force in his life without even trying.
“You still have two questions left,” James spoke quietly, breaking the silence between them. They were both staring up at the ceiling, Regulus too scared to get under the blanket. It would be warm and he would properly melt.
Regulus was very aware he had two questions left. He had been thinking about them since Sirius came to pick them up, trying to think of what he wanted to ask. He had a couple of things in mind, things he shouldn’t ask, things he didn’t even want to ask, things he very much wanted to ask.
He felt the bed shift, James lying on his side so he was looking at Regulus. He could feel James’ eyes on him, all over him. Regulus turned too, hand pillowed underneath his head. Regulus wanted to be closer, impossibly closer.
Regulus could make out every detail of James from where they were laying. The light dusting of freckles that were so light and so faded that they could only be seen from up close, from somewhere only Regulus could see. A secret that only he knew.
James smiled a bit lazily, too tired for it to be the usual all encompassing grin, but still looking incandescent anyway. Regulus didn’t have it in him to be annoyed about it anymore. There was nothing he could do about the effect James had on him, he had officially laid down his weapons and dropped his shields. He just had to see what James’ next move would be.
It was both terrifying and exciting.
“Ask me about my favorite color again,” James prompted.
Regulus groaned, hiding his face in his hands and shaking his head. He had already tried to get an answer out of James, he wasted a lot of questions thinking he finally found the perfect one that would back him into a corner, force him to answer it properly.
“You are not going to goad me into wasting my last questions,” Regulus told him. He felt his cheeks were flushed, he blamed it on the lack of sleep rather than the overwhelmingness that was James. Everything about him was all-encompassing and yet, he could never, would never, get enough.
“Ask.”
“I won’t.”
“Ask,” James said again, raising his eyebrows once in a quick motion. Oh, Regulus was going to fold.
With all of the strength he had in him, he mustered one small word, “No.”
James’ smile grew and Regulus barely had any time to prepare before James was lifting his hand, his fingers ghosting over Regulus’ cheekbones.
“Ask,” he said again.
Regulus literally could not breathe. He was afraid to sever the moment between them, to let the cord fall slack when he relished in the tension. He held his breath and he did not answer.
“C’mon, Reg. Don’t you trust me?”
James’ fingers danced close to Regulus’ lips before going back up, his pointer and middle fingers making contact now. “You don’t have any questions left,” he said in lieu of a real answer.
“I promise I’ll answer.”
Regulus, generally speaking, hated promises. He hated the idea of committing something with just a couple of words, he hated how easy they were to break, and he hated the frequency of which people broke them. But promises sounded so poetic when it was James. And some part of him really did trust him, he hadn’t meant to let that happen. He was sensing a pattern of James creeping up on him, not giving him any sort of warning and just making things better.
“James-”
“No, really. Just…ask me about my favorite color.”
Regulus considered it for a moment, or at least made a play of pretending to consider it. Really, from the first time James asked, he knew he was going to. He could hold it off as long as he wanted, but there really wasn’t much of a point.
James lifted his hand away, not breaking eye contact as he waited for Regulus.
“Tell me about your favorite color,” he said.
James rolled away just a little bit, laughing before he rolled back, closer this time. Their noses were just inches away. Regulus was trying not to think about it. “In question format, if you please.”
Regulus huffed, because he really had tried to find a way to ask without actually asking, turning it into more of a demand so that he would still have his two questions. “Will you tell me about your favorite color?” he said, fixing the wording.
“Well, it’s blue,” James said. Regulus opened his mouth to say something but James brought a finger up to his lips before he could even get the first syllable out. “Shh, Reg, I’m not done yet,” he said. He was having far too much fun with this, Regulus thought. “It’s blue, but a bit cloudy. Sort of a blue grey.”
“Your favorite color is dull blue?” Regulus said before he could stop himself. James grinned, Regulus realized his mistake. “That wasn’t a question,” he lied.
“Yes, it was.”
“It didn’t count.”
“How about we get one more question each, then?”
“Including that?”
“Only if we’re including that.”
Fuck
Regulus shook his head a little, a smile making its way onto his lips. “Okay, fine. One more question each. But you still owe me more about the color.”
“I know, ducky.” Regulus actually reels back, a question on his face that he won’t ask because he only has one question left and he won’t waste it on this. He doesn’t know how he wants to use it yet, but he does know that this is not the best way. James is grinning, unsurprisingly. “Ducky! It’s a name I don’t call anyone else.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh, you know you love it, my little duck,” he said, squeezing one of Regulus’ cheeks.
Regulus started laughing, swatting him away. “I don’t and you’re going to have to find a new one.”
“I like it though.”
“I don’t.”
“Well you should.”
“But I don’t.”
“But you should,” James pressed again.
He doesn’t know how they always end up going back and forth like this over the smallest thing, it feels so childish, something he would never bother doing with anybody else. “You’re getting off track.”
James finally stopped laughing, taking a couple of deep breaths, eyes searching Regulus’ whole face until they settled on his eyes. “Your eyes,” James said.
“My eyes?”
James nodded. “Yes.”
“What about them?” Regulus said, no longer caring about the game or the amount of questions they had left. They were just going to keep asking more anyway.
“My favorite color.”
“My eyes are your favorite color?” Regulus said, his entire brain slowing to a stop.
James shook his head. “My favorite color is your eyes.”
Regulus blinked. “That… that doesn’t even make any sense. They’re just blue.”
“My favorite blue.”
His brain was searching for any other way to interpret this, convincing himself that James wasn’t saying what he very clearly was. James was just…waiting. He was just waiting there patiently while Regulus went through the five stages of grief. Was this flirting? Were they flirting? Did James like the color by itself or did he like it solely because it was the color of Regulus’ eyes?
“Oh,” he said softly, barely a breath.
James, because he was so fucking lovely, started to turn away, taking this as Regulus’ rejection. It was so far from it, there wasn’t a universe where he could even fathom rejecting him. Regulus grabbed his arm, stopping him. They were closer now, after Regulus moved.
“James,” Regulus said, practically closing in on him. “You have one question left.”
James was malleable in his hands, bending to Regulus’ every will and moving where he wanted him to. His eyes kept flicking between his eyes and his lips, Regulus was doing the same thing.
“I know,” he said, voice tight.
Regulus rested a hand on James’ cheek. “Ask me.”
“I don’t know-”
“Ask if you can kiss me, Potter,” Regulus interrupted, burning everywhere he touched James. His patience was thinning.
James’ eyes almost lit up at that. “Regulus, can I kiss you?”
“Please,” he said, almost a whine, almost begging for it. He would beg for it, if James asked him to.
That was all it took. James closed the distance between them, shifting so he was laying over Regulus, lips pressed together. This was what Regulus had been waiting for, this was what the poets wrote about, what wars were fought for. This, here. James’ lips were sin and they were divine, Regulus wanted to breathe him in, inhale and choke on the smoke and let it fill his lungs, let it smother him.
James’ hands were on either side of Regulus’ head, Regulus’ hands went straight to his hair. Fuck, he loved James’ hair. He couldn’t stop himself from just gripping, harder than he meant to and not at all anticipating the noise it brought out of James. Oh, oh Regulus really needed him to make it again, trying to bring him closer.
James obliged. He slotted a knee between Regulus’ leg, applying a pressure that made Regulus wonder why he had ever tried to deny himself of this. Of James.
He wanted more. Just more.
And he also could have stayed just like this, just something simple where James’ lips were on his and everything was sweet and innocent.
James moved down, his lips attaching themselves to Regulus' neck, sucking and biting and leaving bruises.
There was nothing sweet or innocent about it.
Regulus let him; Regulus wanted him to do whatever he wanted. He wanted everyone to know he was James’, even if he wasn’t. He wanted the bruises to show as proof that this was real, that this existed in somewhere that wasn’t his dreams.
And then James pulled back, almost completely. His hair was messier than it was before, his lips glossy and puckered.
“Fuck,” he said quietly, his eyes no longer filled with the boyish amusement Regulus saw before. There was almost fear. Regulus saw regret in them and his stomach twisted. He shouldn’t have prompted it. It was his fault.
And then James was off of the bed and out of the room before Regulus could even try and understand what was happening.
He left Regulus cold and confused and alone.
Fuck.