Chapter 9
Regulus
James led Regulus down the hall, pushing open the door to an empty room. The music from the party muffled slightly as the door swung shut behind them, leaving the space surprisingly quiet compared to the chaos outside.
Regulus stood near the doorway, arms crossed, clearly borderline reluctant to be alone with James.
But—he did want to save his French streak.
So, with a sharp inhale, he sat down on the edge of the desk in the room, pulled out his phone, and focused on finishing his lesson.
And to Regulus’ mild surprise, he actually let him work in peace.
For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were the soft buzz of the music outside, the occasional tap of Regulus’ fingers against his screen, and then—
The celebratory chime from the app.
Regulus exhaled in triumph, locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket.
That’s when James struck.
“So,” he said, leaning against the desk next to Regulus. “Are you gonna tell me why you don’t like me?”
Regulus' jaw tensed, but James didn’t stop.
“Because I’ll be honest,” James continued, watching him carefully, “I loathed you for years after you quit the team in the middle of the season.”
Regulus stiffened, but James kept going.
“Because you were really fucking good, and we needed you. And when you left, I—” He paused, shaking his head. “I didn’t get it. I was pissed, I thought it was selfish, and I spent years convincing myself you bailed because you just didn’t care.”
James sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But after these past few weeks, I don’t think I do anymore.”
He glanced at Regulus, his voice quieter now.
“Now your turn. Because you definitely still have a problem with me.”
Regulus had no intention of answering.
But the alcohol loosened something in him, and before he could stop himself—
It all came spilling out.
“Everyone loves you,” Regulus said, his voice thick with frustration, his words tumbling out too fast, too unfiltered.
James blinked, caught off guard, but Regulus was already in too deep.
“When we were kids, it almost seemed like you were more Sirius’ brother than I was.” His voice wobbled slightly, but he powered through. “And yeah, it hurt me a little, but I couldn’t even blame him—because I thought you were cool too.”
James stared at him, his expression unreadable.
Regulus laughed bitterly.
“But as I got older—when I was figuring out… stuff about myself—you made me lose faith in you.”
James’ brows furrowed, like he didn’t understand, but Regulus kept going.
“All those assholes on the team—most of them would call guys on the other team slurs, say homophobic shit—and you—” Regulus’ voice broke slightly, his breath ragged.
James’ throat bobbed, his whole body tense now, like he was bracing himself.
Regulus swallowed.
“You laughed,” he spat. “And it egged them on. And I hated that.”
James’ face fell.
Regulus shook his head, his voice lower now, sharper, rawer.
“You, of all people, made me uncomfortable. You, of all people, made me feel like I had to get away. I quit so I’d never have to hear what you might think of me.”
James looked like someone had just punched him in the gut. But Regulus wasn’t done.
“And now you’re here.” His voice rose, his hands curling into fists. “And I know how you feel about me now.” He exhaled sharply.
“And this time—I can’t ignore you.”
The words hung heavy between them, the air thick with something neither of them had the strength to name yet.
James looked like he had no idea what to say.
And for the first time since they were kids, Regulus felt like he finally had the upper hand.
James was quiet for a long moment, his jaw tight, his hands curled into fists at his sides.
Then, finally—softly, earnestly—he said, “I’m really sorry, Reg.”
Regulus inhaled sharply, his chest tightening.
“I didn’t know how much I affected you when I was a stupid fucking kid,” James continued, shaking his head. “I was an idiot—I laughed at shit I shouldn’t have, I went along with things without thinking. But you seriously spent all these years thinking I’m homophobic?”
Regulus huffed, looking away. “Well… yeah.”
James looked at him hard, his lips twitching, something almost amused curling at the corner of his mouth.
“Me?” James said, voice low, teasing, the faintest trace of a smirk forming. “Homophobic?”
Regulus’ eyes snapped back to him, his irritation flaring. “Will you stop mocking me?”
But before he could react—
James reached out, cupped the side of Regulus’ face, and kissed him.
Regulus froze, his brain stuttering to a full stop, because—
Oh.
James' lips were warm, firm, sure, and the absolute confidence in the way he kissed him—like this wasn’t a question, like he’d already made up his mind the second he touched him—made Regulus’ stomach drop through the floor.
James’ other hand landed on his waist, steadying him, pulling him closer, his fingers pressing in just enough to make Regulus feel pinned in place. The heat of him was everywhere, all-consuming, and Regulus’ heart pounded violently in his chest.
The worst part?
James was good at this. Really good.
His mouth was soft but insistent, teasing at Regulus' bottom lip, coaxing, pressing, pulling him into it until Regulus couldn’t think anymore—couldn’t do anything but react.
He gasped, and James took the opportunity to tilt his head, deepen the kiss, sink into him further.
Regulus let out a small, involuntary sound, and James—the bastard—smirked against his lips, like he’d just won something.
Regulus felt himself spiral, his fingers gripping onto James’ shirt, pulling him in before he could even process it.
Fuck.
James kissed like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was completely sure of himself, and Regulus—who was used to control and restraint—was suddenly utterly undone by it.
James backed him up against the desk, pressing their bodies together, his fingers still on his face, still tilting him the way he wanted, still taking the lead—and Regulus let him.
Because fuck, it felt too good to stop.
Then—too soon, too abruptly—James pulled away.
Regulus let out a sharp, ragged inhale, still reeling, still gripping fistfuls of James’ shirt, still aching for something more, more, more—
But James just smirked, his thumb swiping briefly across Regulus' cheek before dropping his hand entirely.
“Still think I’m homophobic?” he teased, voice low, playful, utterly fucking smug.
Regulus scowled, trying to ignore the fire in his veins, the way his body wasn’t moving away, the way his fingers were still clenched tight in James’ shirt like he couldn’t bring himself to let go.
“I swear to God, James,” he gritted out, voice still shaky, “if you did that just to prove a point, they’ll find your body at the bottom of the goddamn Charles.”
James grinned, and fucking hell, he had the nerve to reach up and brush a stray curl from Regulus' forehead like he wasn't the reason Regulus was on the verge of losing his fucking mind.
“Mmm,” James mused, tone infuriatingly light, “your Boston comes out when you’re angry, I see.”
Regulus shoved him. “I’m going to kill you.”
James just laughed, like this wasn’t serious, like Regulus wasn’t falling apart from the inside out, like none of this meant anything to him.
Regulus finally—finally—untangled his hands from James’ shirt, stepping back like he needed oxygen.
And maybe he did.
His head was spinning, his body felt too warm, and fuck, he’d been drinking, and he wasn’t thinking clearly, and he needed to stop this before it got worse—
But then—
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I wasn’t attracted to you,” James said suddenly.
Regulus froze.
His breath hitched, pulse stuttering, his entire body going rigid.
James wasn’t smiling anymore.
He was still watching him, still too close, but his expression had softened just slightly—not teasing, not cocky, just quiet and steady and certain.
Regulus felt his stomach twist violently.
He didn’t know what to do with that.
Didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to trust it, didn’t know what it would mean if he did.
But before he could open his mouth—
James ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, almost like he regretted saying it at all. Then, after a pause—
“…But I don’t think it’d be smart for us to take this any farther.”
Regulus blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. “What?”
James sighed, shaking his head. “Fucking my best friend’s little brother doesn't just violate bro code, it just about burns it to the fucking ground.”
Regulus stared at him, something bitter and furious and humiliated rising fast in his chest.
His hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms, but he kept his voice perfectly even when he said—
“…Well. That sounds like a you problem.”
Then he turned on his heel and walked out before James could see how much he was trembling.