when
19th February 1977
James wondered if he had ever truly felt what it was like to fall in love, as before this moment, before his stomach dropped to his feet and his mind was unable to form a single word, he thought he knew exactly what love was. He’d assumed that love was the feeling he got as he flew through the air, quaffle in hand; he assumed it was the smell of warm treacle tart and lavender; he had assumed it was the pit in his stomach when Sirius pretended everything was okay; he’d assumed it was the dizzy feeling he got when he heard Evans’ laughter.
He hadn’t thought it would be a warmth that spread through his chest when Regulus smiled at him.
His first thought was how he absolutely could not fancy Sirius’ brother - not when Sirius himself had been unable to so much as glance at his brother as of late.
His second thought was about how this put a spanner in the works of his sexuality.
The two had taken to meeting rather regularly. It had been slow at first, with Regulus only showing up to ensure his brother knew he was alive and well, but eventually, James’ rambling got him to open up - though at the time, Regulus would have rather jumped into the Black Lake then admit he didn’t mind being around James.
James had always relayed what he could to Sirius about Regulus’ well-being, but he didn’t know him as well as Sirius did, and worried he was missing something. Then, Regulus had skipped one of their meetings… and another… and another. When he returned, James almost cried at the mere sight of him. It was at that moment that James realised Regulus had become more than his best friend’s brother, but a friend of his own.
He wasn’t sure when he began to fall for Regulus; maybe it began as he asked himself when Regulus would call off their meetings, or perhaps it began as James found himself wondering when Regulus would arrive, or maybe it was as James wondered when he would stop collecting memories of sitting in the passageway with Regulus. It was possible he fell as he discovered that Regulus was quite funny, once you understood the humour, and that he wouldn’t show his affections through words or grand gestures, but in tiny actions, such as heating charms in the winter, or accidentally bringing extra food.
He would find himself clinging to those moments, trying to remember them as best he could.
“Potter, if you think any harder, your head might burst,” Regulus drawlled, raising an eyebrow when James chuckled at him. “And I won’t be the one to clean it up,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he looked away from James.
James couldn’t help but grin. “Why Regulus, I didn't know you cared,” he teased, making Regulus cross his arms across his chest as he scoffed.
“Your ears really are filled with dandelion fluff, aren’t they?” Regulus sighed, but a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth - James was certain of it.
“I’ve been told I have selective hearing,” James said, resting his head against the wall as the lumos above them fizzled and dimmed.
He closed his eyes, but he didn’t need to look at Regulus to know he would be rolling his eyes. “I feel as if the difference between a compliment and an insult is lost on you.”
James laughed. “Almost everything can be a compliment if you look at it from the right angle,” he said, peering through his eyes to see Regulus smile.
“You mean, if you take it out of context,” Regulus clarified, knocking his feet with James’ as if challenging James to disagree.
“The right angle,” James nodded, earning a rare soft chuckle from Regulus - his heart fluttered.
“You’re an absolute berk James,” Regulus said, with a soft smile.
However, when Regulus saw James’ dopey grin, he raised an eyebrow.
“You called me James,” he pointed out, biting the inside of his cheek when Regulus blushed a light pink, the tips of his ears too.
“Shit,” Regulus muttered to himself. “Not a word Potter,” he mumbled, his head his hands.
James couldn’t help himself. “First you tell me you care about me -”
“I never said that.”
Shaking off Regulus’ interruption, James continued. “Then you call me James,” he grinned. “Whatever next Regulus, a declaration of love?” he teased, chuckling as Regulus went pink again.
Glaring at James, he raised a middle finger. “I hate you,” he scowled, resting his head on James’ shoulder.
“I’m sure you do,” he grinned, lifting their hands to press a kiss against the back of Regulus’ hand. “I’m sure you do.”
Afterward, James would always wonder how much longer they had. With the war looming ever closer, he had no idea what side Regulus would choose, and it scared him.
For now, they were teenagers, and therefore, teenagers they would be.