Chapter Text
21/10/2022
Hogwarts School
Regulus Black is tapping his fingers on the cover of his chemistry textbook, glancing back and forth between his teacher and the clock on the wall, when his phone vibrates in his pocket. After one final glance at the teacher, he slips it out far enough to check the message.
He has to bite his lip to keep a smile from breaking out on his face as his heart stutters in his chest at the sight of the familiar name in his messages. It pulls him into the hazy world of memory.
18/10/2022
Severus is shorter than Regulus, but what he lacks in height, he makes up for in enthusiasm. His lips are slightly chapped from the chilly, early morning air but Regulus doesn’t mind the slight abrasiveness. He’s just happy to finally have a moment alone with Severus.
They’ve snuck away during first period, to the girls’ loo on the second floor. Two out of the three toilets are broken, so no one bothers to use the bathroom for its intended purpose anymore. It’s a convenient place to meet up during the school day, provided you can get in and lock the door before another couple beats you to it.
The last three times they’ve tried to use it, it’s been occupied, so there’s a hurried, feverish quality to their meeting that’s equal parts exciting and terrifying.
“You better not tell anyone about this,” Severus growls in between rushed, messy kisses.
“I won’t, I promise,” Regulus pants into the empty space between them, rushing to reassure Severus that he’s safe. Severus’ dark brown eyes narrow as he takes in Regulus’ flushed cheeks and downcast gaze. He must find what he’s looking for written across Regulus’ face because he nods and shoves himself away from Regulus, straightening his uniform blazer before turning on his heel and disappearing through the door, leaving it unlocked behind him.
Regulus’ back hits the wall with a thud, but luckily he is able to keep his head from slamming against it. He lets out a sigh and slides to the floor, curling his knees up into his chest.
Regulus shakes his head to clear away the memory and raises his hand.
“Yes, Mr. Black?” Mr. Slughorn asks, waving his permission for Regulus to speak.
“May I please use the loo, sir?” Regulus asks, widening his eyes in his best, no, I really do need to use the loo, sir, expression.
Mr. Slughorn glances at the clock on the wall and then turns back to Regulus, eyes narrowed in a look that clearly says I know what you’re up to but I can’t refuse to let you use the restroom but I want you to know that I’m not surprised, just disappointed. He holds out the lavatory pass and Regulus hurries to gather up his things before Mr. Slughorn can change his mind.
As soon as the classroom door swings shut behind him, he double-checks that the corridor is empty before slipping out the side door.
Severus is leaning against the brick wall of the Tesco next door. When he hears the door open, he looks up from his phone.
“Finally,” he says, shoving his phone into his pocket. “I’ve been waiting ages. ”
“Sorry,” Regulus mumbles, shuffling his way in front of Severus. It’s a narrow alley, technically only meant to be used as an emergency exit, but there’s just enough space between the buildings for two fifteen-year-old boys to stand facing each other. As soon as he’s within reach, Severus pulls him in for a kiss.
It’s rougher than usual, and it only takes a few minutes until Severus is pulling Regulus’ shirt free from his trousers, running his hands against the bare skin underneath. They’re calloused from working at his father’s mechanic shop, and Regulus sort of hates the way it feels, but he doesn’t say anything, just focuses on the feeling of their lips pressed together, slick with spit
They stay there until the bell rings, but as soon as it does, Severus rushes off without a word, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Regulus presses himself flat against the wall of the school and watches from the shadows as Severus runs to catch up with Amelia Bones from Ilvermorny, the girls’ school across the street.
His heart aches, watching Severus slip his hand into Amelia’s. She’s petite, with blonde hair, big brown eyes, and pouty lips that are always shiny with gloss. So, basically, she’s everything Regulus isn’t and never will be. He folds in on himself, crossing his arms against his midsection, and takes slow, deep breaths to try and
01/11/2022
After the half-term break, Regulus shows up to his new form classroom with his timetable clutched in both hands. His two best friends, Barty and Evan, have somehow managed to be placed into the same form and while he’s happy for them, he can’t help but feel the sharp sting of jealousy in his chest.
Logically, Regulus knows he’ll be fine. The chances of the rugby lads who bullied him last year being in his form are slim. He takes a deep breath before opening the door, knowing that there’s no way to avoid whatever awaits him beyond it.
Mr. Dumbledore, his form teacher, has posted a seating chart to the board at the front of the classroom and finds his name next to spot 17 on the chart. It’s a spot at the back of the room, right in front of the windows. As he approaches the desk, he stops in his tracks at the sight of a familiar head of messy, sandy-brown curls bent over a textbook. Regulus’ lips twitch into a hint of a smile. He can’t help it; ever since his older brother came home from his first day of Year 7 with the bright-eyed, bouncy James Potter in tow, Regulus has been transfixed.
James is twirling a pen in one hand and using the other as a guide, moving across the page in time with his reading, completely oblivious to the world around him. Regulus takes the last few steps toward the desk.
At the sound of the chair’s legs scraping against the linoleum floor, James’ head snaps up. His deep brown eyes lock on Regulus’ and his face splits into a grin so bright that it hits Regulus with the full force of the sun.
“Hi,” James breathes, voice barely more than a whisper.
“Hi,” Regulus echoes back, returning James’ megawatt smile with a softer version of his own.
Mr. Dumbledore enters the classroom and goes through the attendance list, then gives the class silent study time. Regulus pulls out the book he’s supposed to be reading for his English class, while James dives back into his textbook.
It’s hard to focus on Of Mice and Men when he can feel the warmth emanating off of the strip of tanned skin revealed by James’ rolled-up sleeves. He sneaks a glance at James out of the corner of his eye and realizes that James’ finger is
“Studying hard, then?” Regulus whispers, leaning towards James to make sure the other boy can hear him.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” James stutters, fumbling with his pen as he rushes to shut his textbook. It slips from his fingers and drops between the pages just before James slams the cover down. The pen, a cheap biro, snaps, and showers James in blue ink. Most of it splatters across his white Oxford, but some of it manages to get on his hands. He pulls them back and whips his head up to look at Regulus, wide-eyed with shock. His mouth hangs open just a few centimeters, like he’s forgotten how to close it. Regulus stares back, not quite sure how to react beyond trying to keep himself grounded when, inside his head, the ink splotches have turned into flowers, exploding from James’ body like fireworks.
“Mr. Black! Will you help Mr. Potter get cleaned up?” Mr. Dumbledore shouts from his desk in the front of the room, snapping both of them out of their stupor.
“Yes, sir,” Regulus
They shuffle through the hallway and into the nearest boys’ lavatory, which is thankfully empty. Regulus focuses on the task at hand. He can do this. Help James clean up the ink. It’s simple, really. He pulls a few paper towels from the dispenser by the door, and turns, only to see a flash of white as James slides his shirt off.
Regulus is pretty sure his heart stops beating as soon as he lays eyes on the expanse of James’ broad shoulders, back muscles rippling as he bends over to run the shirt under the faucet. Thankfully, he’s wearing a vest top underneath, otherwise, Regulus would probably drop dead on the spot.
He shakes his head to clear it and grabs one more paper towel for good measure before crossing the room and joining James by the sinks. He’s so wrapped up in dabbing at the ink stains that he doesn’t bother to glance up into the mirror, so he’s surprised when James reaches out and brushes a thumb against his cheekbone. Regulus lifts his head up, turning towards James with wide eyes.
“Sorry, you’ve got a bit of ink just there,” James explains, letting his hand linger for a few seconds before pulling it back, flashing a sheepish smile at Regulus. Regulus’ heart thumps against his ribcage, rattling his bones and scrambling his brain.
“Oh, uh, thanks,” he mumbles, ducking his head as his cheeks burn.
“No worries.” James’ voice cracks and he clears his throat, turning away from Regulus to run his hands under the faucet.
They’re silent for the rest of the time, and once both boys and the shirt are as clean as they can be, given the circumstances and the incredibly strong stain power of ink, they slink back to the classroom.
It’s only when the bell rings, dismissing the class, that James turns back to Regulus.
“Thanks for the help,” he says. “You know, with the ink.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” Regulus says, fighting against the tightness in his chest to force the words to come out clearly and steadily.
They share a small smile before turning to join the herd of students trying to shove their way out into the hallway.
Regulus shows up to his next class feeling like someone’s filled his head with helium and he’s floating above the other students. No one can touch him, at least, not up here.
02/11/2022
Before school, Regulus usually meets up with Barty and Evan at the Tesco next door. Barty’s mum is a model, so she doesn’t allow any sweets in the house, and after his usual morning egg-white-and-spinach omelet, he’s fiending for sugar.
“What do you think, Reg, Malteasers, or Jelly Babies?” He asks, turning to his friend with a bright red package in one hand and a bright yellow one in the other.
“Sorry, what?” Regulus asks, looking up from his phone.
“Just get both,” Evan says, rounding the corner to the candy aisle to join them. His voice is muffled by the bag of crisps dangling from his lips, clutched between his teeth. He’s got two bottles of apple juice in one hand, and another two bags of crisps in the other.
“Ew, Ev,” Barty whines, wrinkling his nose as his voice jumps up an octave.
“What?”
“You’re a heathen.” Despite what his words might suggest, there’s a small smile on Barty’s lips as he tugs the crisps out of Evan’s mouth. Wordlessly, Evan hands one of the bottles of apple juice to Barty, whose cheeks flush with a hint of pink, and Regulus ducks his head back down, letting them have their moment.
Barty does, indeed, get both, and they just barely manage to make it into the school in time for form. Regulus slides into his classroom just before the bell rings and slips into his seat next to James Potter.
James immediately tucks his phone away and turns to Regulus with a dopey grin on his face.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” Regulus says back, flashing James his own smaller, but no less dopey, smile.
Their conversation starts and ends there, as Mr. Dumbledore starts taking attendance. James doesn’t look away, though, so Regulus doesn’t either. The rest of the room melts away and the sun seems to stream through the window directly onto James, surrounding him in a golden halo. Regulus is transfixed.
It feels like a lifetime passes in the space between them, but in reality, it’s only a minute or two before Mr. Dumbledore clears his throat, loudly, interrupting the angelic choir singing in Regulus’ head.
“ Mr. Black,” Dumbledore says. His voice is deeper and more authoritative than it usually is, like it’s the second or third time he’s had to repeat himself and he’s starting to lose his patience.
“Oh, uh, here, sir,” Regulus mumbles, dropping his head as his cheeks start to burn.
He keeps his eyes firmly locked on his maths worksheet, after that, allowing himself just one short glance at James before he slips out of the classroom as soon as the bell rings.
<3 <3 <3
Later that day, while he’s eating lunch with Barty and Evan, a rogue football comes flying over their heads, landing in the patch of grass behind them. The group of boys playing football all burst out laughing, and Regulus turns to look at them. They shove James, good-naturedly, towards the ball, and he jogs over to grab it.
“Isn’t that James Potter?” Evan asks, turning to follow James’ path past their table. “The guy you sit next to in form? He looks like a golden retriever.”
“He doesn’t look like a golden retriever,” Regulus protests, but then he thinks about it for a second and sighs. “Okay, yeah, he does a bit.”
“I can’t believe Dumbledore sat you next to him. Like, what do you guys even talk about?”
“We’ve talked.”
“Really? About what?”
“Just…stuff.”
“Well, be careful.”
“Why?”
“Look at them, and then look at us. We’re outcasts, and he’s the captain of the football team. In case you’ve forgotten, last year the captain of the football team bullied you. And isn’t he friends with your brother? I know they’ve never done anything to you directly, but they like to pull pranks on people.”
“Yeah, but James. He’s… different. He’s nice.”
“I bet he’s a whole different person when he’s with his football friends.”
“He’s not! I swear, Evan, he’s nice.”
Barty reaches over and steals a chip off of Evan’s plate, effectively diverting Evan’s attention elsewhere, leaving Regulus to watch James from across the schoolyard in peace.
In the post-lunch chaos, Regulus nearly runs right into James, who rounds a corner so sharply it should be illegal. He’s got his head down, more focused on whatever he’s scribbling down onto the paper in his hands than what’s going on around him. Regulus skids to a stop just in time.
“Hi,” he says to try and get James’ attention.
“Hi,” James echoes, looking up from his paper and breaking into a full-on smile when he notices Regulus standing in front of him. “Are you going that way?” James nods his head to the left.
“Yeah, maths.”
“Same.” They fall into step with one another, and James turns his attention back to the math assignment in his hands.
“Are you literally doing your homework while walking to your lesson?” James turns to
“I… might be.”
“That’s very chaotic.” Regulus chuckles.
“That makes me sound way cooler than I actually am.” James pauses with his pen hovering above one of the problems, like he’s stuck.
“Do you want me to do that for you?” Regulus reaches one hand out, in a hesitant bid for the maths worksheet.
“No, I’m good.” James turns to give Regulus a small, reassuring smile. Regulus leans over, looking at the problem he’s working on.
“I can tell you the answer.” Regulus’ tone is sing-songy, teasing.
“Then I won’t learn.”
“If you’re stuck, I can just…Let me just…” Regulus leans over and grabs for James’ pen. James leans away, trying to pull his things out of Regulus’ reach. They tousle with each other for a minute, laughing and swatting at each other with hands and notebooks.
“Get off!” Regulus pulls his hand back, and James’ pen ends up scraping a curved line against the back of his hand. His mouth drops.
“How dare you!” Regulus gasps, feigning indignance.
“Here, look,” James says, reaching for Regulus’ hand as if that is a normal thing that happens. He pulls it closer to him and puts two little dots above the line, turning it into a smiley face. Regulus sucks in a breath and holds it, trying to keep himself from reacting to the shot of adrenaline the touch sends straight to his heart. “Better?”
“Maybe.” Regulus bites his lip, taming his smile into a small smirk, and the two boys continue down the corridor toward their respective maths classrooms.
03/11/2022
The next morning, he leaves Barty and Evan arguing over Hula Hoops versus Wotsits to try and get to form early.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think that Regulus was ditching us,” Barty says to Evan as Regulus walks away, raising his voice to make sure that Regulus can still hear him even as the distance between them grows.
“It must be something important, because our Regulus would never leave us for something as trivial as a crush on a straight boy, ” Evan adds.
Regulus just raises a hand and flips the finger over his shoulder as he pushes his way through the door, prompting his friends to burst out laughing.
He doesn’t even make it into the building before he spots James in front of the school with a group of his friends. Sirius is there, along with their friends Remus and Peter, along with a handful of girls from Ilvermorny. Among them is Dorcas Meadowes, the fourth and final member of Regulus’ friend group. She’s sitting on top of the picnic table everyone’s gathered around, with her new girlfriend Marlene’s arm draped around her shoulders, and the brightest smile Regulus has ever seen on her face.
Regulus is happy for her, he really is, but he can’t help the vines of jealousy that creep out of his stomach and up into his throat. Dorcas is incredible, and she deserves the world, but coming out and getting into a relationship was so easy for her. That’s Dorcas for you, though. Effortlessly pretty, effortlessly cool, with a heart of gold and a tongue sharp enough to pierce through your heart before you’ve even realized she drew the dagger.
James is in front of the group, dribbling a football in all sorts of crazy, complicated maneuvers. He rainbows it over his head and catches it in his hands, then pretends to toss it straight at Sirius’ face, catching it just before it makes contact. Sirius lets out a very unmanly shriek and launches himself up off the bench to tackle James to the ground where they wrestle, fighting over the ball until they’re a tangled mess of limbs.
Regulus’ heart shrinks at the sight because that’s the wrong Black brother. He has to fight the urge to march over there and grab Sirius’ wrist, bending it back as far as it can go until Sirius’ eyes well up with tears and he begs Regulus to let go, like they used to do to each other as kids. His body aches with the desire to be the one with his legs wrapped around James’ waist, his hands in James’ hair, James’ hands on his hips… Before he can dwell too much on that train of thought, though, he’s pulled back to reality when Dorcas shouts his name.
“Regulus!” She calls out, gesturing for him to come over. “Hi!”
“Hey, Dorcas,” he says, taking a few slow steps in her direction. When he gets within arms reach, she shrugs off Marlene’s arm and pulls him in for a hug. Regulus lets himself sag into her familiar arms, resting his chin on the top of her box braids.
“I’ve missed you, you tosser. I never see you anymore.” Her words are saturated with harsh truth, but in true Dorcas fashion, the delivery is casual and teasing.
“Hey! You’re the one who went and got a girlfriend,” Regulus teases back. “I’ve been the same as always.”
“That’s not what I heard.” Dorcas pulls back to give Regulus a pointed look, her eyes flickering from him over to James. Regulus makes a note to kill Barty and Evan as soon as he gets the chance, sure that they’re the ones who told on him, and turns his head just enough to see James and Sirius sprawled out in the grass, panting. At the sight of Regulus, James pushes himself up on his elbows to take a look at the intruder, face exploding into a grin when he sees who it is.
“Reg!” He shouts, springing to his feet, fully rejuvenated. Sirius lifts his head to look at James with his eyebrow furrowed. James opens his mouth to speak, skidding to a stop in front of Dorcas and Regulus who are still loosely embracing, but the warning bell rings, cutting their interaction short.
James, though, is the king of the pivot, so he just grabs Regulus by the elbow, saying “C’mon, we gotta get to form!”
In the split-second before James pulls him away, Regulus glares at Dorcas, who just throws her head back, laughing.
“Text me later?” She shouts at his retreating back.
“Maybe!” Regulus yells over his shoulder as James leads him toward the school’s entrance.
“I forgot that you and Dorcas are friends,” James says, dropping Regulus’ elbow to open the door for him. “It’s hard to think of her as anything other than Marlene’s girlfriend, honestly.”
“Yeah,” Regulus says, letting his gaze drop for just a second. He knows he’s been unfairly avoiding Dorcas since the beginning of the term, when she and Marlene decided to go public with the relationship that had blossomed throughout the summer holidays. “I haven’t seen her much lately, and when I do she’s usually distracted by Marlene.” James hums his acknowledgment, leaving space for Regulus to continue if he wants to. It takes him a few minutes, but eventually, he gathers up enough courage to. “I’m glad she has Marlene, it’s just… hard sometimes, after last year. To see things go so well for them.”
“You should speak to Marlene sometime,” James suggests, turning to give Regulus a friendly smile as they approach their classroom. “At school, she’s out loud and proud, but she still hasn’t come out to her family. They’re certainly…more traditional. From what I’ve heard from Sirius, it sounds like your dad is too.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Regulus lowers his voice to a mumble as they pass through the doorway, and they leave the conversation there. It’s not exactly the kind of thing either of them wants to be caught talking about in form.
They get settled into their seats and sit quietly through attendance. Regulus doodles in the margins of his chemistry notebook, needing some sort of an outlet for the restless energy building up in his system since leaving the classroom is not an option.
James leans over after his name is called and scribbles something on the edge of the page. His sharp, uneven letters stick out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of Regulus’ perfect cursive notes and sprawling, loopy doodles.
Regulus’ breath hitches as he reads the words James wrote.
If you ever need to talk, I’m here.
He lifts his head, meeting James’ gaze with his own. James’ lips curl up and his eyes are warm, and it’s like a calming draught for Regulus’ nerves, smoothing out the rough edges of his anxiety, making them more bearable.
He smiles back.
04/11/2022
Regulus has his headphones on, plugged into his electronic drum set. He’s playing along to Motion Sickness by Phoebe Bridgers, blasting the song and slamming his sticks against the pads with more force than is strictly necessary. He’s so into the music that he completely misses it when someone knocks on his door once, twice, and finally, a third time before entering. It takes a tap on the shoulder to pull him out of it, and he tugs his headphones down over his neck as he turns around. He expects it to be Sirius, here to bother him out of boredom, but instead, it’s Kreacher, their butler.
“Sorry to interrupt, but you have a visitor,” Kreacher says, gesturing to the open doorway. Regulus swivels his head in the opposite direction, letting himself hope for just one ill-advised second that James has come to see him. Severus is standing in the hallway, staring at his feet, his worn-in jacket and secondhand backpack looking out of place against the sleek, upscale decor behind him.
“Oh, Severus, hey,” Regulus says. He turns back to dismiss Kreacher. “Thanks, Kreacher.” After a quick bow, Kreacher disappears, and Severus takes a tentative step into Regulus’ room. His eyes scan the posters on the wall and the neatly made bed before, finally, landing on Regulus.
“Sorry for just showing up, I…” Severus starts, voice faltering as the consequences of his actions finally catch up to him. Since his solo Friday night plans have been interrupted, Regulus shuts off the music that’s still playing in his headphones and takes them off.
“It’s alright,” he assures Severus, standing up and crossing the room to lean against his dresser. “It’s nice to see you outside of school, for once.” While he’s mostly just trying to make Severus feel comfortable, Regulus realizes that his words aren’t entirely a lie. It is nice to see Severus outside of school, and to feel like, for once, the scales of power are balanced in his favor. After all, it’s his room in his house and Severus has just shown up unannounced.
“Yeah,” Severus mumbles, dropping his head back down to stare at his shoes again. When he looks up again, Regulus is standing much closer, and their eyes lock. Neither one of them smiles, the tension in the room is too thick for that, but Regulus holds out a hand in a silent invitation, which Severus gladly takes. Regulus tugs him closer, and their lips meet in the middle.
After that, they’re back in familiar territory. Kissing, they can do. Talking is something they usually don’t have much time for. It’s actually the best kiss they’ve had to date, Regulus thinks, pleasantly surprised. Severus’ uncertainty makes him softer, more tender, and in the privacy of his own bedroom, Regulus is able to fully enjoy it. There’s no mental clock in his head, counting down the minutes they can spare before one of them has to rush off so they don’t get caught. There’s no underlying sense of fear and dread weighing down his mood.
For once, they’re just two boys kissing.
And as is known to happen when two boys kiss, they lose track of time wrapped in each others’ arms. This time, when Severus’ hands find their way under the hem of Regulus’ t-shirt, Regulus returns the favor, letting his own hands explore the previously-undiscovered expanse of skin on Severus’ stomach. It’s nice; his skin is soft and warm, but Regulus can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to trail his fingertips down sculpted ab muscles, instead.
Again, Regulus is too wrapped up in his activity to notice another set of knocks on the door,
“Regulus, dinner’s --” Kreacher starts as he pushes the door open, coming to an abrupt stop when he sees what’s happening behind it.
Regulus and Severus break apart, shoving each other back and rushing to
“Kreacher! Get out!” Regulus shouts. Kreacher nods and turns around to leave, but it’s too late. He runs straight into Orion Black.
“Regulus!” Orion shouts, his booming voice filling up the entire room. “What is going on here?”
“Nothing, Father, Severus and I were just studying,” Regulus says, trying to diffuse the tension before things can escalate any further. But there are no textbooks in sight, and Severus is still wearing his backpack, which is zipped shut. Rage flashes behind Orion’s eyes, and Regulus guesses they have roughly two minutes before things get really bad, so he pushes Severus into Kreacher, who takes the hint and ushers the other boy out. Orion barely notices; he’s too busy
“Regulus Arcturus Black!” he yells, shoving Regulus back into his dresser, sending books and little trinkets clattering to the floor.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Sirius asks, his head popping up over Orion’s shoulder. Regulus is equal parts relieved and annoyed at seeing his brother; things tend to go better when Sirius intervenes, but Regulus hates the fact that he’s fifteen and still needs his brother to save him from the big, bad wolf.
“Your brother thought it would be a good idea to bring his little boyfriend home, and they were kissing under MY roof!” Sirius’ eyes widen and he mouths are you okay? but Regulus can’t respond with Orion continuing his tirade. “I didn’t raise my sons to be faggots. You need to toughen up, Reg. I’m calling Coach Hooch; you’re joining your brother on the football team.”
Orion gives Regulus one final shove before turning and stalking out of the room. Regulus’ legs buckle but he manages to catch himself by grabbing onto the edge of the dresser. Sirius surges forward, reaching for his brother, but Regulus waves him off.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sirius asks, letting his arms drop to his sides.
“I’m fine, Sirius,” Regulus assures him, rolling his eyes, which is their mutual code for I’m fine, you idiot. But Sirius doesn’t back down, just stands there staring at Regulus like there’s something more he wants to say.
“Sirius! Dinner!” Orion barks down the hallway, his loud voice echoing through their spacious penthouse apartment, amplifying it even further. Sirius turns around, looking at the door, and then whips his head back to face Regulus again. Regulus nods towards the door.
“You should go. There’s no need for him to be cross with both of us.” Sirius hesitates for a moment, looking like he’s not quite convinced that Regulus is going to be okay, but eventually, he nods and heads for the door. Once he’s in the hallway, he turns around.
“I’ll have Kreacher bring up a plate for you later,” he whispers, not waiting for a response before shutting Regulus’ door with a quiet click.
Regulus tells himself that he really is fine; being forced to join the football team is a light punishment, all things considered. But his hands still shake as he picks the mess up off his floor.
07/11/2022
Regulus shows up fashionably late to his first football practice, feeling out of place on the bright-green grass of the athletic field. In the middle, James is marching back and forth with a clipboard in one hand and a whistle in his mouth, the string dangling down his front instead of looping around his neck. The rest of the team is running sprints back and forth, across the short side of the field in front of the goal.
Or, at least, most of the team is running sprints. As Regulus gets closer, he can see the familiar long black hair of his brother, perched on the bleachers with his shoes off and one foot resting on the seat in front of him. He’s got a bottle of hot pink nail varnish in one hand and is using the other to paint his toenails.
At the sound of new footsteps approaching, Sirius looks up to find Regulus shaking his head with an amused smirk tugging his lips up in the corners.
“What?” Sirius says, defensively, turning his focus back to the task at hand. “It’s not like dad actually comes to any of the games.”
James’ head whips around to see who Sirius is talking to, already on high alert with the knowledge that the team is getting a new member today.
He raises his free hand in a wave and his face breaks into a now-familiar grin. The action causes the whistle to fall from his lips and drop onto the ground by his feet, but James doesn’t seem to notice, or care. His eyes are laser-focused on Regulus.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” Regulus says back, his smirk growing into a full-on smile. James drops his hand to rub the back of his neck and the action causes his muscles to tighten, showcasing the slight bulge of his triceps. Regulus has never been particularly attracted to tricep muscles, but for the life of him, he can’t remember why.
It’s Sirius’ turn to roll his eyes now, and when it doesn’t seem like the two boys are going to be moving or speaking anytime soon, he takes matters into his own hands.
“Hop to it, little brother!” He calls out. “We’re doing squats, or something.” He waves the nail varnish wand in the general direction of the rest of the team, who are now hopping from one foot to the other doing high knees. James shakes his head to refocus himself and bends down to pick up the whistle, tucking it into his pocket.
“C’mon,” James says, motioning for Regulus to join the rest of the team. “We’ll start you out easy.”
It turns out that what James Potter considers easy is, in fact, very difficult for someone who’s tall and lanky and just unathletic, in general. But Regulus pushes through, swallowing a bit of bile when it rises up while he’s doing push-ups.
They split into two teams and play a scrimmage game, in which Regulus just sort of jogs along and hopes that no one tries to pass the ball to him. But then Coach Hooch swaps him with his team’s goalkeeper and, suddenly, he’s all alone and expected to catch the ball when it flies at him at full speed.
The first time it happens, he just closes his eyes and reaches for where he thinks the ball will go. It grazes his fingertips and sails into the goal, causing the other side to burst out in cheers. Regulus doesn’t care about football, like at all , but his heart still drops into his stomach. He takes a deep breath to center himself, something his therapist is always on him about doing. It helps, a little bit, but there’s still an all-too-familiar ball of anxiety lodged in his chest.
“It’s alright, Regulus,” James calls from across the field. “You’ll get it next time!” Regulus’ eyes pop open and narrow in on the familiar mess of sandy-brown hair. James has two thumbs up and a crooked smile pointed in Regulus’ direction, and it immediately soothes Regulus’ worry. It hardens into resolve; if James Potter thinks he can do it, then he will damn well try his best.
It turns out that with a little bit of determination and a boost of James-induced confidence, Regulus actually isn’t half bad. He manages to block four out of the next six goals, including one that James shoots. When Regulus dives for the ball and rolls onto his back with it clutched to his chest, James throws his fists in the air and cheers, much to his team’s chagrin.
When practice is over, Regulus hangs back, letting the rest of the team lead the way to the locker rooms. He watches his brother get a running start and leap onto his friend Remus’ back, sucking his lips between his teeth to stop himself from smiling.
Then, suddenly, there’s a weight settling itself around his shoulders, and Regulus turns to find James’ perpetually-grinning face just inches from his.
“You were brilliant, Reg!” He says, looking at Regulus with the type of pure, unfiltered joy that Regulus has only seen in movies spread across his face. “With a bit of practice, you might
“You think I have a chance at being a starter?” Regulus asks, gesturing to himself, just to make sure his endorphin-addled brain isn’t giving him auditory hallucinations.
“Don’t act so surprised!” James pokes at Regulus’ side with the hand that isn’t currently hanging around Regulus’ neck like a scarf. “There’s a star footballer in there, somewhere. We just have to find him. I could give you some private lessons, help you train up for the first game?”
Now, Regulus would much rather just sit on the bench all season and help Sirius paint his toenails, but the universe has just dropped the biggest gift right in his lap, so he finds himself saying yes.
“Yeah, okay,” he says, shrugging.
“Okay?” James asks, face softening, making sure that Regulus isn’t just agreeing to make him happy.
“ Okay, James.”
He’d be crazy to turn down private football lessons from James Potter.
<3 <3 <3
That night before bed, as Regulus lays in bed trying (and failing oh, so miserably) to make progress in Of Mice and Men , his phone buzzes with a text message from an unknown number.
He falls asleep with his phone clutched in his hands and a smile on his face.
22/11/2022
Regulus and James have a few training sessions, trading long-sleeved Rugby shirts for jumpers and jackets as the winter chill starts to settle into the air. Regulus has to hand it to James; he is getting better at goalkeeping, somehow, even though they seem to always end up chasing each other up and down the field in an intense, one-on-one game of keep away.
On this particular Tuesday evening, it’s dropped down below ten degrees outside, and Regulus is shivering, even under multiple layers.
“Can’t we just skip to the end, play a bit of keep away, and call it a day?” He whines, rubbing his hands together and jumping up and down in front of the goal.
“Nope!” James says, giving Regulus no warning before kicking a ball at him. Regulus springs into action, catching it easily and throwing it back at James. They repeat the cycle a few more times, and Regulus only misses once.
“Okay, how about now?” Regulus asks, holding the ball hostage until James gives him an answer. James looks at him and cocks his head, like he’s thinking about something.
“How about a wager?” James asks, digging the key to the equipment shed out of his pocket. “We’ll do a lightning round. I’ll go get some more balls and kick them one after the other. If you can block them all, we can be done, but if you miss, we’re staying out here for another half hour.”
“Deal.” The word is out of Regulus’ mouth before he has time to think about it; he’ll take any chance he can at getting back inside. James jogs over to the shed and lines up ten balls in the middle of the field.
“Alright, you ready?” James shouts, very nicely giving Regulus a heads up this time.
“Yeah, ready,” Regulus calls back, bending his knees into an athletic stance.
James goes easy on him, he can tell. He waits until Regulus tosses the first ball aside before shooting the second, and so on, until it all comes down to ball number ten.
“Last one!” James yells, whooping as he kicks the ball toward the left side of the goal. Regulus has to sidestep in order to have a chance at blocking it, and it’s not very graceful, but he manages to knock it away by sticking his right arm out in a desperate, last-ditch attempt. His head whips to the side, watching the ball drop to the ground three feet in front of the goal, and then it snaps up, seeking out James’ reaction of its own accord. James is beaming , sending out rays of sunlight that wrap themselves around Regulus like a blanket. He follows their path, running at Regulus at full speed.
“You did it!” He says, just before he knocks into Regulus and sends them both tumbling to the ground in a heap of flailing limbs and breathless laughter. James ends up halfway on top of Regulus, and for a few brief, blissful moments, Regulus is pressed into the ground by his weight. But all too soon, James is rolling off him and flopping onto his back next to Regulus, chest heaving with heavy breathing.
“Okay, yeah, it’s probably for the best that you won. My feet feel like icicles,” James admits with a sheepish chuckle. He stands up and holds out a hand to help Regulus up. When their hands touch,
“Oh, so now that you’re cold, we can go inside?” Regulus teases, letting James pull him into a standing position. “I see how it is.”
Regulus expects James to drop his hand and crack a joke, but instead, he just squeezes Regulus’ freezing fingers and tugs him forward, taking off in a run.
“C’mon, the faster we go, the sooner we’ll be warm! ” He shouts, throwing his head back, barking out a laugh. Regulus has no choice but to follow, but even if he was offered a choice, he’d choose this every single time. They make a mad dash for the locker rooms, using their closeness as an excuse to shove each other, empty taunts passing back and forth with each not-so-subtle attempt at seeking out more physical contact.
They linger in the locker room, basking in the joys of central heating and a mostly-empty school. Eventually, though, James gets a text from his mum who’s waiting out front and has to leave.
“See you tomorrow, in form?” He says, his voice trailing up at the end of his sentence, presenting it as more of a question than a statement. Like he’s afraid Regulus won’t show up tomorrow, for some reason.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow!” Regulus does his best attempt at one of James’ face-splitting grins, and he must get it at least partially right because James flashes one right back.
“Well, bye, then.”
“Bye, then.” James turns, smile still fully plastered across his face even as he leaves the locker room and heads into the empty corridor. It slips right off his face, though, when he notices Severus Snape lingering just a few feet away, leaning against the wall and scrolling on his phone. James starts walking towards the front of the school, slowly, but stops abruptly when he hears the locker room open and shut again. He turns around, hoping to see Regulus following him out, but instead, the hallway is completely empty, and his stomach churns.
He types out a quick text, telling his mum that he’s running late, and does a 180-degree turn, marching right back to the locker room and cracking open the door so he can hear what’s going on. After all, Sirius told him that Regulus got bullied pretty badly last year, and Severus Snape isn’t exactly known to be nice.
By the sound of it, he’s only missed the very beginning of the conversation.
“Just go, Severus,” Regulus says, his voice breathy with exasperation.
“But I have to tell you something, and you haven’t been answering my texts,” Severus pleads. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Shouldn’t you be with Amelia? You know, your girlfriend? ”
“She’s not my girlfriend anymore. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! We broke up.”
When Regulus doesn’t speak, Severus continues. “So we can be together, like for real now. Except we still can't tell anyone."
“We were never together,” Regulus spits, raising his voice. James’ chest tightens, and he pushes through the door, careful to ease it shut behind him. He takes a few steps forward so he can peer around the corner. James is at the back of the room with his back against a bay of lockers, with Severus leering over him. “You’ve just been using me, Severus, and I’m over it. You never cared about me, you just liked that I’d come whenever you called, whenever you felt like kissing a boy. Whatever we were, it’s over now.” He ducks, trying to slip sideways out of Severus’ way, but Severus grabs his arm and pushes him back against the lockers. “Severus, no. ”
“It’s okay, Reggie, we can work on it,” he says, leaning in to press his lips to Regulus’. There’s a muffled scream, but James barely hears it, as the white-hot anger coursing through his veins is taking over all of his senses. He sprints across the room and pulls Severus off of Regulus, who drops to the ground like a rag doll, pulling his knees to his chest.
“Hey, mate, he said no!” James growls, shoving Severus aside. Severus stumbles and falls to the ground, shouting as his knees hit the concrete floor. But James isn’t paying attention to him anymore, fully focused on Regulus instead. His voice softens as he reaches out to put his hands on Regulus’ knees. “You okay?”
“Did you hear all of that?” Regulus asks, pushing through the lump in his throat to get the words out. He looks up at James, unshed tears glistening in the corners of his eyes.
“Most of it,” James admits. “I saw Severus in the hallway, and I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Sorry.”
“You say sorry a lot.” When Regulus opens his mouth to speak, James cuts him off. “Don’t say it.”
“I kind of want to say it,” Regulus says with a wet chuckle.
“Don’t!” James laughs, and they stare at each other for a few moments. When James is sure that Regulus isn’t going to start crying, he scoots back and stands up, holding out his hand for Regulus.
“C’mon, we should get going.”
“Yeah, okay,” Regulus says, letting James pull him up. They walk to the school gates in a comfortable, yet still slightly awkward, silence. For the first time, Regulus lets the full force of his crush wash over him, admitting to himself that okay, yes, he’s crushing on the very straight, captain-of-the-football team James Potter.
When they reach the gates, they both slow to a stop.
“My mum’s just up that way,” James says, nodding his head to the right.
“I’m this way,” Regulus says, pointing to the left.
“Well, see you later, then.”
“Yeah, see you.” It takes a few seconds for either boy to be able to tear his eyes away from the other to turn around, but eventually, James does, breaking eye contact and making his way down the street towards his mum’s car. Regulus watches him get into the passenger seat and waits until Mrs. Potter drives away to continue his walk to the tube station. While he’s waiting for his train, he types out and then deletes at least a dozen texts before finally settling on one.
A few miles away, James’ phone lights up in his lap and he glances down to see a text from Regulus.
His smile is so big, even his mum takes notice, tucking the reaction away to ask about later. Right now, though, she’ll let her sun bask in the golden glow of his crush.