Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

They laid in that unmade bed until Regulus nodded off against James. He watched the man sleep, peaceful like the nightmares that had seized him the night before were long forgotten. James took comfort in it, as if in the most unexpected of ways, his early return to Regulus had served its purpose. He fought his own sleeplessness, carefully slipping away and finding his sliver of clothes in the closet. When he was dressed, he tiptoed down a floor, into the dove gray guest bedroom to make a call.

“Noticed you didn’t come in today. Out with Sirius again?” Marlene had been fairly forgiving about James’ absence from the office as of late.

“No, actually,” James paced, eyes on the Persian rug underfoot. Tracing its twisting patterns with his steps absentmindedly. It was a shade that wasn’t quite gray, but wasn't quite sage green. Somewhere in between. “I’m in New York.”

“Already?”

“Yeah. Thought I’d come a little early. Get my bearings.”

“Makes sense,” she said, in a tone that indicated that it did not make sense. “I was wondering how the event planning had been going. You’ve barely told me anything.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” he sighed, shoulders heavier at the topic. “The Malfoys are going to do what they want. We are just along for the ride.”

“James. You’re supposed to be an active participant in those meetings.”

“There aren’t many opportunities to be active. They sort of just… talk.”

“Fine, whatever. It’s probably fine,” she clipped. “Which keynote speaker did they decide to go with?”

James racked his head, not able to remember. “Does it matter?”

“One of them is the daughter of a pro-life, pro-gun representative and the other was the first Muslim officer of the ACLU. Who do you think would better represent our ideals?”

“I get it,” James admonished, remembering a little more now. “Um,” he let his eyes fall closed, searching for anything. “I’m sorry. It’s escaping me at the moment.”

There was distrust in her silence. But when she spoke, it was softer. Dulling the sharp edge of her irritation in favor of a weakened anxiety. “I don’t want to speak out of turn,” she said, carefully maneuvering around the right words. “But you’re worrying me, Potter. You are… distracted.”

“I’m not,” he shook his head dismissively.

“You are,” she urged. “And that’s okay. You’ve got a lot going on outside of the organization, sure. But. It all feels precariously in the balance. Don’t you think?”

James took a seat at the edge of the bed, leaning his face into his hand. His glasses skewed as he rubbed his tired eyes. He could have admitted it. That perhaps he had been distracted. Between Sirius and the Malfoys and Peter and Barty and Regulus. He couldn’t deny that so many things were changing in such a little amount of time. And looking at it all in one glance, he suddenly felt overwhelmed by it. As if the fine, minute details were falling through the cracks in his fingers.

A noise drew his attention up, looking to see Regulus in the doorway of the bedroom. He was wearing only James’ rejected boxers, a drowsy slump to his narrow shoulders. It was nearly dangerous how quickly the sight wiped the frazzled thoughts from James’ head. How easy it was to put everything away when Regulus was shining brighter than anything else in his sky.

James took a deep breath. “Nothing to worry about,” he told Marlene, pushing his glasses up into his hair. “Saturday is going to come and then it will be gone and nothing will be any different. We’ll just be a few million richer.”

Regulus came forward, straddling himself into James’ lap and pushing him back onto the bed. He twisted a hand into his t-shirt, pushing it up his frame as he leaned down to kiss at his stomach.

“Alright, boss,” Marlene sighed on the other end of the line. Something tight in it like it wasn’t the response she’d been looking for. “You haven’t let me down yet.”

James watched Regulus’ mouth against his skin, spiraling into the very distraction that she was finding worrying. “I’ll see you here on Saturday?”

“Indeed. See you then.”

The phone call was barely ended when Regulus gripped James’ wrists so hard it made him drop the device into the sheets. He pinned them above his head, hovering over him. “Who was that?” he asked, murmuring low between them.

“My assistant.”

Regulus’ eyes ghosted down him, feeling like a sneaky touch. The east facing windows were dimmer this close to dusk, leaving the shadows of his face deeper, hair darker, warm tones of his skin bleached out to cooler shades. Grays that weren’t green. “You’re working while here?”

“Just a stupid event on Saturday. Until then, I’m yours.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up microscopically. He melted into James, curling into his chest as his lips grazed his unshaven jaw, “Why’d you come in here?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” he said, gathering him in his arms. “Wanted to let you sleep.”

“You didn’t sleep last night either,” he reminded him.

“Mm,” James hummed lazily in response as his hands curled around Regulus’ thighs, his teeth finding the man’s freckled shoulder and biting down.

Regulus whined, pushing James down as he sat up on top of him. “Don’t you start,” he chided, pulling away to get up. “Come on. I’m hungry and I hate this room.”

James sat up, sliding his glasses back onto his face, “Why do you hate it?”

He turned in the doorway, leaning a shoulder back into the trim as his eyes rolled around the room. “It used to be mine.”

James would have sworn a draft was wafting through, the way he felt a chill run up his spine. “This room?” he blinked. “When?”

“Growing up,” he shrugged. “It looked different. I changed it when I switched rooms.”

James looked around with a different lens now. Seeing that it felt touched with Regulus’ maturity. His youthful elegance. “What was it like before?” he wondered aloud.

Regulus’ tongue worked into a cheek, pensiveness layered behind his blank expression before he unstuck himself from the doorway, walking to the corner closet. He pulled at the chain of the ceiling light, bathing himself in the old bulb’s warm white. He beckoned for James to come closer.

James nearly had to duck under the door to accommodate his height, eyes shifting to the narrow walls that made it barely a walk-in. There were stacks of books on the floor that came up to his knees. Enough for a small library. There was a violin case left dusty in the corner, a black Jansport with a few pins and a frayed hole in the front pocket. On the walls, a few posters, dancers in motion. Their garish costumes shimmering in the stage lights. It took James a few blinks to recognize who was in them.

“Wait, that’s-” he gasped, stepping closer, trying not to block the view with his own shadow. He could see Regulus spinning a female dancer, his muscled legs contoured by his white tights, the straight line of his hips set distinctly twisted from the similar line of his shoulders. His pointed toes making crisp angles. Every plane of him was geometrically opposed, yet he managed to wear it with such grace that James was momentarily rendered speechless. His eyes went to the others, noting the different shows, the costumes. Each more extravagant than the last.

“These are incredible,” he smiled, voice full of awe. “This was you.”

“Was being the opportune word.”

James looked over at him, noting the flinch of shame in his features. “Does it hurt? To remember?”

His mouth pulled flat. “Less and less,” he breathed as he pulled the chain overhead again and returned them to darkness. “Let’s go.”

James reached out, pulling him closer in the dark closet and hugging him. “You’re still you,” he told him. “Still incredible.” He could feel the tight apprehension in his posture manually release.

Eventually, Regulus pulled away, a grateful force of a smile on his mouth as he grabbed James’ hand and pulled him from the room. He gliding across the hallway towards the kitchen.

James’ gaze flicked up, looking down the shadowed hall. “Hey,” he tugged him. “What about that one?”

Regulus looked back, following James’ gaze towards the door at the end of the hall. His smile slipped. “My brother’s room,” he noted vacantly, continuing on.

“Can I see it?”

Regulus turned, eyes going distant on James’ face. “No.”

“Why not?” his brows furrowed. Caring less about seeing the room and more about the mystery.

He shook his head, “I don’t go in there.”

“Ever?”

“Not since-” he stopped himself. “Not in a long time.” He drew away from James’ touch, leaving him alone in the hallway.

James stood there for a long moment, eyes shifting towards the door again. It wasn’t just mysterious, but menacing now. He continued on to the kitchen, watching as Regulus pulled himself up on the counter to open the cabinet and search the shelves for food. James leaned up next to him, “Do you keep tabs on him?”

Regulus didn’t meet his eyes, intently inspecting an expiration date on a jar of pasta sauce, “Not really.”

“You haven’t been curious at all? What he’s up to? I mean, he could have a family now. Hell, you could be an uncle,” he tried to laugh.

“Don’t care,” Regulus murmured, putting the jar back and grabbing a box of mac and cheese. “Are you good with this?”

James felt his unwillingness to continue the conversation. “Yeah, sure.”

Regulus jumped down, pulling a pot out and starting to fill it with water at the sink.

James admired his bare back, the dimples above the uneven tilt of his hips. He came up behind him, holding him tight. Kissing into the curve of his neck and feeling it draw up from the tickle of his stubble. “You know,” he murmured into his skin. “If you ever wanted any help finding him. Not meeting him. Just. You know. Seeing where he’s at. I could maybe-”

Regulus shut off the faucet, turning to look up at him. “James,” he insisted. “I said I don’t care.”

He felt the urge to help boomerang its way back to him. It stung when he caught it. “Right,” he nodded. “Sorry. I heard you.” He felt the way Regulus was letting him drown in the quiet, just to spite him. He reached over, pulling the pot of water from the sink. “Come on. I’m hungry too.”

James shook it off, pleased when Regulus and him slipped away from all the heaviness the day had held for them. Counting every one of his smiles like they were the evidence of a man soothed. One when they passively bickered over just how to mix the sauce in. Another when they sat side by side in the family dining room despite the ten chairs at the table. Or when Regulus smeared his last bite across James’ cheek just to lick it off. Then again when James took it as a good excuse to drag him upstairs for a steamy shower. A quieter one as they both toweled off, got dressed, put sheets back on the bed together. The sweetest one when they curled up next to each other.

Regulus was humming something, head on James’ shoulder as he passively ran his fingers against the smooth skin on the inside of his arm. The room was dark save for the ambiguous light pollution of Manhattan trickling past the leaded windows. James’ head was full of thoughts, none of which he knew how to say except-

“I love you,” he whispered, looking over.

Regulus stopped humming, eyes so big and wide from this proximity. “But?”

“No but,” James shook his head.

He raised a brow, “Then, what aren’t you saying?”

James felt caught, biting his tongue as if it had been the one to out him. “Nothing,” he started to say, before exhaling the last of his cool. “Today was hard for you.”

“For both of us,” Regulus corrected.

“No, I’m fine,” he denied.

“You know,” he laced their fingers together. “You don’t have to act like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t have feelings beyond being supportive.”

“I have feelings,” he scoffed. “I mean I got pretty mad today, didn’t I? I screamed at you for fuck’s sake.”

“As if you weren’t trying to talk it out and fix it the whole time like you’re the goddamn poster child for mature conflict resolution,” he rolled his eyes. “So irritating when you manage to be all high and mighty under pressure.”

James watched the way their hands tangled, remembering when it used to feel new. But now, it felt like a deep inhale after holding your breath too long. He brought his hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “I’m proud of you,” he told him. “For opening up to me. Telling me about Barty. And how you felt about me. It was brave of you.”

“And to think it only took a bottle of gin and near mental breakdown,” he self-deprecated. “I’m practically Joan of Arc.”

James couldn’t help but smile. “You’re still here. With me.”

“Only cause I’m selfish.”

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s because you're brave.”

There was a sparkle in the blue of his eyes. “So,” he sighed. “When is it James’ turn to cry? When is it my turn to care for him?”

He raised a brow, “Do you want to?”

“I’ll try anything once,” he winked.

James smiled, but it quickly went stale. The very suggestion made him feel uncomfortable, uneasy. He shook his head, weakly, “Not yet, Reg.”

The man’s eyes sank down his face, growing more serious. “One day?”

“Probably, right?” he nodded. “I mean, statistically? If we are planning on doing this for a while.”

“Doing what?” Regulus’ eyes narrowed, a smile still lingering in the sharp corners of his mouth.

“Being together,” he shrugged, suddenly a bit self-conscious. “Feeling a lot. For each other.”

Regulus played with James’ hand, splaying it open to touch at his palm. “And how long is a while?”

James watched, mesmerized by it for so long Regulus had to stop and look back up into his eyes to coax his answer free. “Until you get sick of me.”

A laugh broke from his chest, “Me? Get sick of you?”

“It could happen,” he whispered, pulling Regulus’ jaw close enough to kiss. He felt the way the man tightened in anticipation just before James landed it at the corner of his mouth. As close as he could reasonably get without charting unfamiliar territories. He lingered there for a long moment, feeling Regulus’ muscles ease into his touch.

Regulus pulled back, soft smile going all the way up to his eyes. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of you, James Potter,” he said with tender honesty.

A featherlight ache expanded past the bounds of his chest like it might engulf both of them. “Then, we’ll keep doing this,” he whispered. “You okay with that?”

Regulus nodded. “I’m okay with that.”

James was thankful for a good night’s sleep. More thankful that it was in Regulus’ bed where he could leech his body heat as he slowly stirred back to life. He admired the man sleeping next to him, before he eventually reached over to grab his phone, starting to research suit shops in the area.

He hadn’t gotten very far before Regulus started to breathe a little lighter, blinking his eyes open to peek up at James before shutting them again. He groaned, shifting to lay on his chest. “Why are you up?” he asked through a rough throat. “It’s too early.”

James smiled, letting his fingers comb through Regulus’ dark curls to sweep them away from his handsome face. “I need to run an errand today,” he explained. “For the thing I have tomorrow.”

“The event?” he squinted up towards him through the morning light.

“Yeah, just a fundraiser thing,” he dismissed. “Some donors are putting it on. It’s a long story. Not interesting. Not fun. Just a bunch of rich old people in suits.”

He raised a brow, “You packed a suit in that backpack of yours?”

“No, I was just going to buy one here.”

Regulus let out a long breath, letting his eyes fall close for one more precious moment. “Alright,” he raised himself up out of bed. “Fine. Let’s go get you one.”

“You’ll help me?” James asked, smile spreading across his face.

“Mhm,” he hummed, wavering on two tired legs. He stretched his arms above his head, yawning through his words, “Though you could have told me earlier. Could have gotten something made for you.”

“All your suits are custom?”

“Yours aren’t?” he went to his dresser, starting to sift through the drawers.

James got up, crossing the room to lean his elbow to the top of the dresser, shaking his head, “I’m not that picky.”

“Well, you’re also like what? 5”11?”

“6’2,” he corrected.

Regulus stopped, sighing hard. “I could have lived a full and happy life without knowing that.”

James smirked, reaching over to raise Regulus’ chin up toward him, “You like it.”

“That’s the problem,” he glared, pulling away.

They didn’t take long for them to get ready, stumbling down to the foyer as James read off the list of places he had researched.

“No,” Regulus shook his head, lacing up his sneakers. “I know where I’m taking you. We’ll take the train.” He turned his attention to the entryway credenza where he stored some shoes, some bags. He was searching for something. “Ah, here it is.” He held it out towards James.

He came closer, catching the gleam of something gold. He took it, inspecting it closer. “A key?” his eyes widened. “What does it open?”

“The house.”

“This house?” James’ eyes went even wider.

“Don’t make it weird,” he sighed. “It’s a utilitarian gesture, not a romantic one. In case you decide to come early again. Or stay late. Or anything, really. If you just need a place to be when you’re over here.”

If the gesture wasn’t romantic, as Regulus said, James’ heart hadn’t heard it. It just kicked and swelled within his chest as if the key was a ring with a promise attached. “Sure,” he breathed. “Utilitarian.”

“Let’s go then,” he ushered them out. “We’ll get coffee on the way.”

They stopped at the same bodega as before, giving a few scratches to Kreacher before they continued on to the station. James couldn’t help but admire the late summer foliage squeezing out the last of its bright green. In just a few weeks, they would change. James wondered if he’d be here to see it happen. They hadn’t discussed the promise James had made last night, to not leave Regulus anymore. Knowing it would take more consideration to decide what exactly that meant. Consideration that James wasn’t ready to bring up, worried it would breach the peace they’d been maintaining.

The department store that Regulus chose wasn’t like the ones in Seattle. Each floor seemed more grand than the next and customers looked straight out of catalogs. Even James himself felt criminally underdressed in his jeans and bleach stained Yale shirt he had brought from home. Regulus did all the talking, making quick work of selecting a brand and cut for James as if he knew exactly what he wanted to see him in.

In the fitting room, Regulus was pushy, rushing James with murmured commands and taunts that had him feeling warm under his collar. He had momentarily thought it was all in his head until Regulus had clicked his tongue against his teeth and told James to hurry up, reaching out to zip up his pants for him and granting the subtle brush of his knuckles against him. It had James choking around his own huff of laughter, catching Regulus’ eyes that were alive with the joke as he started to do up the buttons of James’ shirt. James couldn’t help but lean down and place a kiss on his forehead as he did it.

When he was dressed, Regulus dragged him out to the large mirror, standing him on the platform. James felt admittedly awkward with all the eyes of the attendants fixed on him. He tried to ignore them, eyeing himself carefully. “Is it too much?” he fidgeted with the cuffs, raising his eyes to look at Regulus.

He pulled a face, “Too much what?”

“Too much…” James tried to find the words, turning around to inspect the back. “I don’t know. It’s a simple black suit. But it's also not.”

“Because it fits you?”

He shot him a grimace, “My other suits fit me.”

“Not like this one,” Regulus smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as his thumb wedged itself between his bite.

James had a hard time looking away from him, back at himself. He adjusted the lapels again, “I don’t usually look to draw attention like you do.”

“You draw attention. Just not intentionally.”

“What do you mean?” he turned around to look at him.

Regulus pulled his thumb from his mouth. Stare weighing heavy with sincerity. “The suit looks good, James.”

He looked up again at the attendants that were lingering nearby, waiting to be helpful. He ducked lower to whisper to Regulus, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he hissed back. “Now, buy it. Or I will.”

“Fine, I’ll get it.”

The attendants pinned the legs and sleeves where they still needed to be tailored, letting him know that it would be delivered to Regulus’ address by that evening. Regulus seemed quite pleased with himself, slipping their hands together as they walked to the station in content quiet. They got off a stop early, grabbing food from one of Regulus’ favorite takeaway spots before walking the short length home.

“Thank you,” James had said, squeezing his hand tight when they reached his block. “For your help with the suit.”

“I want to see pictures, okay?” he nudged his side. “Want to hear all about the widowed cougars who are going to be eating out of the palm of your hand tomorrow night.”

James laughed, “As long as they donate, they can eat anything they want.”

“Told you our jobs aren’t too unalike,” he beamed, climbing up the stoop to open the front door. Once inside, he tossed his keys aside, kicking off his shoes. “Where do you want to eat?”

“Maybe in the-”

A singsong voice echoed from somewhere in the house, “I was wondering when you’d be in!”

“Oh no,” Regulus’ shoulders dropped.

There was a clatter of feet down the stairs before a head of white blonde hair leaned over the banister. “Heeeelllloooo,” Pandora called, before her light eyes brightened. “James! You’re here!”

“Damn,” James looked to Regulus. “Does everyone have a key to your place?”

He shrugged, smiling, “Only the cream of the crop.”

She trampled down the remaining steps. “How are you, James?” she cooed, coming closer to touch his arm. “A day early, aren’t you?”

James looked to Regulus again, “Do you all have a shared calendar as well?”

“Nah. Reggie and I just hail from the same mothership.”

The man nodded, “They marooned us here cause we kept asking ‘are we there yet?’”

Pandora yanked his arm. “Is he taking care of you well?” she asked, pointedly. “A good little host I would hope.”

“Yes, of course,” James nodded. “Always.”

“A little mouthy though, isn’t he?” she wrinkled her nose.

James shook his head, “I don’t mind.”

She winked, “Didn’t think you would.”

“None of that,” Regulus said firmly. He took the bag of takeout from James’ fingers as he started to take it upstairs, talking over his shoulder, “He came yesterday.”

“Ooh!” her wide eyes turned back to James. “So, you met our sweet Bartemius?”

“Barty? Sweet? Maybe we are talking about different people.”

“Nah,” she laughed, linking his arm with hers to drag him up the stairs. “He’s a sweetie. You’re just a sore topic of conversation. Word on the street is a certain someone thinks highly of you,” she murmured out of the corner of her mouth. “Someone who rarely thinks highly of anyone.”

“Oh, is that so?” he felt his face go warmer, glancing up at where he could hear Regulus setting up lunch in the kitchen.

“Indeed,” Pandora gave a wistful sigh. “And our Barty is taking it awfully personally.”

“I’m not trying to piss him off. I don’t even know the guy,” James stopped her on the stairs. “And I certainly didn’t know about the extent of his and Reg’s… well, their-”

“James, trust me, you’re doing them both a favor,” she kept the playful lilt in her voice to a minimum. “Breaking up something that should have ended a long time ago. Even if Barty can’t yet see that.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Regulus asked, leaning from the kitchen doorway.

Pandora looked up to him, smiling smugly, “You.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes, “There is far too much transparency in this family for my liking.”

“Too bad,” she hopped up the rest of the stairs. “You are the dissenting opinion, hun.”

James stood there, smiling to himself for a moment before following the both of them. He saw that Regulus had already made a third plate with their food.

“So,” Regulus breathed, passing Pandora her plate. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Don’t ask. You won’t like it.”

Regulus stopped, his stare falling blank. “You were suspended again, weren’t you?”

“Only for a week. So, no need to guilt trip me about it.”

“I don’t know how many more times they can suspend you.”

“Then, they should just fire me. I literally could not give a shit if I tried.”

“Pandora. Don’t talk like that.”

“Let’s not talk about it at all then,” she clapped her hands. “I’m suddenly free tonight. Are you two going out with me or not?”

James looked between them, clueless. “What’s going on tonight?”

“What’s going on any night?” she grinned. “You have to go to find out.”

Regulus looked over at James. Inclining his head towards him like he was passing off the power to decide for them.

James looked to Pandora again, seeing the near pleading in her bright eyes. Too sweet for him to say anything but- “We can go out.”

“Yay!” she cheered.

“But no pills, no blow, none of that,” Regulus firmly established. “We will have a few drinks and be in our own beds at a decent hour.”

“Oh, we’re going to have fuuuun,” she giggled.

“Because we’re going to be safe.”

“I’m guessing Barty wouldn’t be interested in joining us.”

Regulus’ expression faltered, looking off towards the ground, “He’s working this weekend.”

“Where at?”

“Monaco.”

Pandora scoffed, a smirk wide on her black cherry stained lips, “That slutty bitch.”

It was a different club that the last time James and Regulus had serendipitously converged. While the last place had felt like some newly opened vampire rave straight from Berlin, this place was a bit more rough around the edges. The walls were lined with brick, collages of past punk show posters on the walls. Instead of that bassy electronic music, they were playing mostly rock. Underground stuff that someone like James would have never recognized. Some of it angry or thrashing while other songs were more indie and morose. The crowd couldn’t get enough, adjusting their mood to the songs like they were as fickle as a jukebox.

Regulus, James, and Pandora had claimed a table near the wall, two rounds of drinks as they talked. Pandora was dressed in another barely there lingerie outfit, her hair two twisting silvery braids that swung when she excitedly talked. She was a lovely conversationalist, smiled a lot despite her propensity for looking like she might grab whatever sharp object she could find and coerce you into a game of Bishop’s knife trick. She confidently asked about James being in town, what he thought of the city. She shared stories about her and Regulus and the trouble they’d get into navigating it on their own in their formative years. She was funny to boot, laughed first at her jokes, snorting from behind her hand, but somehow, it didn’t make her any less endearing.

Regulus sat back quietly, listening to the two as they chatted. His dark eyes flicked back and forth between them as he nursed a drink. Something in his stare that James couldn’t quite decode. A twisted smile at the corner of his mouth like he was pleased, but James couldn’t get him alone to ask why. The intrigue alone had James’ gaze drawn to Regulus, as if he was the only one in the room. Not able to stop looking at his chest peeking through the tank he was wearing, ties at his pretty shoulders knotted in complicated patterns.

“I’m getting antsy,” Pandora finally said, sliding her empty drink away from her and banging both hands flat against the table. “Dancefloor now.”

James watched as she slipped away into the center of the crowd, immediately engaging with the strangers there like they were old friends.

“What do you think?” Regulus asked, leaning closer to be heard over the music. “Shall we join her?”

James looked back over to him, hesitating. Feeling at the heavy condensation on his glass. “You should join her,” he nodded. “I’m no dancer.”

Regulus’ eyes sparkled through the shadowed club. “James Potter isn’t good at something?” he gasped, mocking him.

He rolled his eyes, smiling as he shoved the man’s shoulder, “Quit it.”

“No,” he whined, tugging on his arm. “Come on. You can’t be that bad.”

“I can actually,” James laughed. “I broke Lily’s pinkie toe at our wedding.”

Regulus smiled, leaning closer until James could have counted each one of his dark lashes. “Good thing I wore boots.”

He felt his stomach flip, wondering when his body wouldn’t feel the need to tear itself apart every time Regulus did anything. “Not this time, baby,” he said with a shake of his head. He beckoned to the dance floor. “Go with Pandora.”

“Fine,” Regulus leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he fled.

James looked on, thankful for the clear line of sight he was able to maintain as he watched Regulus and Pandora move together to some indie song that was all backbeat and momentum. It wasn’t ballet, the way they danced in the club like this, but it was genuinely them. Moving and matching each other in perfect rhythm that embodied the song better than the simpler moves of those around them. It was so different to see Regulus, who typically came off as subdued, dance so confidently in a crowd of strangers. As if he knew that this was a place he could let go, not feel restrained by his mask of collectedness.

James wasn’t sure how many songs passed, how long he spent watching, when he realized his next sip was nothing but ice. He shook the glass briefly wondering if he should grab another. He didn’t need it, but something about the atmosphere, the youthful promise of “going out” made him more lenient with himself. Before he could decide, a smooth voice rang in his ear.

“Who is stalking who now?”

James nearly jumped, turning to look and see a man standing at his side. A handsome, charming smile, quaffed blonde hair, and fair eyes. “Evan,” he felt himself smile. “Oh my god. What are you doing here?”

He smiled too, shrugging modestly, “Just visiting. What about you?”

“I’m here for a work event,” he explained, before beckoning him closer. “Come. Pull up a spot.”

Evan approached the table, placing his drink down as he leaned close to James. Speaking in his ear over the music, “You here alone?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m with friends, but they’re…” he looked over at the dancefloor. Watching as Pandora and Regulus had gathered a small circle of onlookers around them. They didn’t seem to care, twisting and jiving together in time.

Evan’s gaze must have followed his. “They look fun.”

James felt his smile go proud. “They are.”

“How have things been?”

James looked back at him, eyeing his face, his crisply ironed shirt. He was tempted to sneak a peek at his shoes, just to see if he’d really brought the Pacific Northwest with him in the form of hiking boots or Chacos. “Good,” he nodded. “Just same old, same old. You?”

“Really good. I’m…” he fiddled with his drink. “Well, I’m sort of expanding.”

“No way!”

“Yeah. I’ve been touring a couple commercial spaces here. Thinking about a second location.”

“Evan. That’s incredible. Congratulations!”

“Congratulate me when it's open,” he huffed. “Better yet when the reviews come in. Then, we can really celebrate.”

“Have you found any good spaces yet?”

“A couple, but it's a tough market. You really have to jump on them. But I’m trying to stay diligent with it and not waffle so much, but I’m pretty chronically indecisive about these types of things.”

“Indecisive?” James raised a brow. “I don’t think I’ve seen that side of you.”

“Well, as a Gemini, there are many sides to me.”

James laughed, feeling Evan momentarily loom closer before Pandora and Regulus were returning to the table. Regulus slid a bit closer to James, their legs brushing under the table. “Guys,” James called to them. “This is Evan. He’s a friend from back home. He’s visiting the city.”

“Nice to meet you,” Evan flashed a charming smile. “You are…” he looked towards Pandora.

“Pandora,” she beamed, putting her hand forward to shake his eagerly.

“And…?” Evan looked to Regulus.

The man had a tight smile pulled across his mouth, nearly a wince. His arms crossed over his chest. “Regulus,” he replied, not offering his hand.

“Regulus, pleasure,” Evan nodded, not seeming to register his coldness.

James butted in, looking to Pandora and Regulus, “Evan here has an amazing restaurant in Seattle. He’s opening up one over here too. It’s gonna be huge. It’s got to be. The food is insanely good.”

“No, no, please,” Evan put a hand to James’ shoulder. “You are far too kind.”

“Yeah, he is,” Regulus murmured just loud enough to James to catch it.

James looked to him, but his stare was fixed on Evan. Smile wiped clean, dark hairs at his temples turning even curlier in his faint sweat.

Evan looked to the empty glasses scattered across the table, “Looks like you all need a top off. Can I grab drinks?”

“No,” James protested. “No playing maître d when you are on vacation.”

“I insist. Who wants something?”

Regulus leaned in, elbows leaned on the table, “A Vesper.”

“A cranberry vodka,” Pandora piped up.

James’ shoulders sunk in defeat. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll take a dark and stormy.”

“Got it,” Evan winked, pulling away from the table and towards the bar.

James watched him for a moment, looking back to Pandora and Regulus who seemed locked in a staring contest. The longer it went on, the more James realized they were communicating.

“What?” he looked between them. “What is it?’

Regulus took a deep breath, finally pulling his eyes away from her, “How do you know this dude again?”

James realized too late what was going on. “I just met him. Out and about.”

“He’s kind of smoking hot,” Pandora noted, playing with the end of her braid.

James felt his face go warm, looking over to where Evan was ordering at the bar. “Oh, is he? I wasn’t really-”

“Is he single?” she asked.

James exhaled hastily, running a hand through his hair, “I think so? Last time I checked.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Pan,” Regulus sat back. “I don’t exactly think you’re his type.”

James looked to him, brows furrowing, “Why do you say that?”

Regulus turned his gaze back to him, something haughty in the tilt of his brows.

“Alright then,” Pandora leaned closer. “How was he, James?”

“Pardon?” his eyes widened, feeling the collar of his shirt tighten.

“Evan, silly. You slept with him?” she rolled her eyes.

“I did not.”

It was cruel timing for Evan to return to the table, expertly delivering the different drinks balanced between his fingers.

Pandora looked up to him, a twinkle in her black lined eyes, “Evan, have you slept with James?”

The man instantly stopped, looking around at all of them. “No,” he answered hesitantly.

“See!” James sputtered. “I told you!”

“I would have,” Evan continued. “But he was too hung up on some other guy. Shame cause he was a phenomenal kisser. How’s that going by the way? That complicated thing?”

James felt the full heat of his embarrassment rush back to his face, knuckles absentmindedly grazing the stubble on his jaw. “Oh, that,” he giggled. “No, it’s…” he looked to Regulus, catching a trace of ambivalence in his eye, like he too was questioning how it was going. James’ grin widened. “It’s going great,” he murmured, lacing an arm around the man’s shoulder and pulling him a little closer. Watching as the stoicness in his face melted into a shy smile.

Evan’s eyes darted between them. “Oh,” his confidence shriveled. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You said you were here with friends. I just assumed-”

“It’s fine,” James shook his head. He looked to Regulus, “Right, it’s fine?”

His expression was so dreamy and dazed. “Yeah,” he nodded, keeping his stare fixed on James. “Totally fine.”

“Evan, my love,” Pandora asked sweetly. “Are you a Gemini?”

His face blanked. “How did you know?”

“Got a download. Do you dance?”

“Uh. I mean. After a few drinks? Sure.”

“Well, bottoms up, golden boy. They are playing my song.”

Pandora and Evan both downed their drinks before running off to dance. James’ attention shifted to Regulus who was still watching him, a haze in his eyes. “So,” he took a sip of his drink. “Is Pandora even interested in Evan? Or was that all the ruse I think it was?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“My god,” James huffed. “You two can’t be trusted. You’re diabolical together, you know that?”

“Of course. Why else would I keep her around?”

James laughed, his fingers grazing Regulus’ bare arm. “I’m sorry,” he told him. "If Evan being here is awkward.”

“It’s not,” Regulus dismissed.

“Why did you look like that then?”

“Like what?” his eyes widened innocently.

“Like you were about to have your lawyer send him a strongly worded letter,” he teased. “And why did you think we slept together?”

“Because. He was clearly flirting with you while Pan and I were dancing.”

“So you were watching us.”

Regulus gave him a stern glare, hiding a smile underneath it.

“Come on, Reg,” he chided. “I think he was just being nice.”

“No, you were being nice. Cause you’re nice to everyone. And they all think it's flirting,” he beckoned towards the crowd of people as if it was representative of the human race.

James leaned closer, talking in his ear, “How would you know what they think?”

“Because,” he turned his face, now so close that they were nearly brushing noses. “I watch people fall in love with you all day long.”

James went still, his eyes sinking down the length of Regulus’ face, his bare shoulders and chest. He still had a little sweat there from dancing. He shook his head, “That’s not true.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, shifting away, “No wonder you wear glasses. Blind as a bat.”

James smiled, pulling him back with the arm around him, “I don’t know if you heard, but I’m taken.”

He looked over, smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Really? By who?”

“Some brat,” he sighed. “He’s got this whole trauma slut thing going for him. Unfortunately, it’s hot as hell.”

“Sounds like he needs to get over himself. Is he cute at least?”

“Not cute,” James shook his head, catching the slight tint of offense in the man’s eyes. “He’s stunning. Gorgeous. They haven’t invented words for him yet.”

Regulus tried to suppress his smile, taking a sip of his drink instead as his eyes went to the crowd. Busying his hands on the stem of his glass.

James watched his profile. The faint bump in his nose, the softness of his brow, his lips. The sharp cut of his jaw and the moles that trailed down his shimmering neck. “If I tell you something about him, can you keep it between us?”

Regulus eyed him carefully. “My friends call me an iron fortress of secrecy.”

James bit into his lip, teeth wearing there for a long moment before he leaned closer. His nose nudged against Regulus’ neck, feeling him shiver. He could smell the way his perfume and the lemon of his drink was trying to fight through his sweat. But the natural scent of his skin was made for James and it would find its way to his brain.

“Sometimes,” James talked low into his skin. “When I’m out with him, it takes everything in me not to be all over him. I want to be touching his thighs, kissing his neck. I want to be between his legs, I want to pleasure him. Not because I want people to watch, but because someone as obscenely perfect as him should be entitled to pleasure at all times.” He pulled back, catching his eyes, “You know?”

Regulus’ grip on his glass was notably tighter. His lip twitching to the side before he downed the rest of his drink, wiping his mouth as he pushed the glass away. “Hey, uh,” he cleared his throat. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

James paused, smirk drawing up as realization dawned. “I don’t know. Do I?”

“Yeah,” Regulus nodded, pushing away from the table. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you do. I’ll show you where it is.”

“Please do,” James breathed, hustling after him

Regulus took James’ hand, weaving through the crowd and towards the back of the club. The number of people started to thin the deeper they went. They passed the kitchen and came upon a dark hallway. Regulus knew exactly which door to go to, dragging James inside and flicking on the buzzing white fluorescent lights. It was a scummy dive bar style bathroom. Graffiti and stickers layered thick on the walls in a vibrant collage of chaos. Regulus locked the door behind them before his hands dove for James’ face, drawing him in.

Their foreheads pressed together. The rush of contact so quick and intense that it nearly made James stumble off his feet, but he grabbed the sink instead. Caging Regulus between his arms. His hands slid to the tight cut of the man’s hips, so delicate between his hands. He gripped hard, tempted to rush to the best parts.

“What do you want then? Hm?” he nearly hissed, drawing his mouth close enough to feel his breath. “You obscenely perfect thing.”

“It's not about what I want,” he breathed, dark lashes fluttering as his chest rose and fell. “But what I’m entitled to, right?”

James gripped him harder, everything tightening up. “You’re entitled to all of me, baby,” he whispered like a promise. “I can be careful and gentle and sweet. Or I can be rough and greedy and obscene. Whatever you need, I’ll be it.”

“Jesus,” Regulus’ eyes fell close, a grounding exhale in his mouth. “If you keep talking like that, I won’t make it to you coming.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” James smiled. “Watching you. Making it about you.”

“Darling, it’s always about me. Making you come is just the subplot,” he smirked. “Now, get me the fuck off.”

James was happy to oblige, pinning Regulus’ hips to the sink as his mouth slipped into the crook of his neck, grazing teeth against the skin and feeling his hips kick up. Loving the way his breath hitched in his throat, just below where James’ teeth were. He let his hand smooth across the straight line between his hips, palm shifting to cradle him through his low-waisted jeans. He felt just how hard he was getting, bound by the constraints of his tight pants. He thumbed at the tip, hearing the whimper clenched tight in Regulus’ jaw.

“Shit,” he hissed, leaning back against the sink in a dire attempt to get closer to James’ hand, grind up against his touch.

James’ free hand dragged Regulus’ shirt up his chest, leaning down to kiss at his collarbones, down the center of his chest. Taking precious care to grate his teeth against a nipple before easing down onto his knees. He watched Regulus’ grip on the edge of the sink tighten, white enough to match the porcelain, as James trailed his tongue down the valleys of muscle towards his hips. He didn’t stop touching him, teasing him through his clothes as the music of his breathing heightened. He drew a hipbone into his mouth, sucking it hard enough that he knew it would leave a mark he could admire tomorrow morning.

James could feel the seep of precum under his thumb, so warm and fragrant that he felt hungry for it. He finally relinquished, pulling Regulus’ jeans open and slipping his cock free before taking it in his mouth.

The man’s fingers wove into James’ hair, his mouth dripping with various expletives as James started to work against him. James went as far down his length as he could, feeling the cave of Regulus’ body when his lips met the base. Regulus pulled his hair again so hard that James couldn’t help but moan, letting it rumble around the man.

James didn’t hesitate to move again, sinking down over him with increasing finesse. Tongue working against his tip as his lips went firm around his length. He felt himself do everything at once. Fondling Regulus’ hips with his hands, holding him firm to keep him from squirming. Letting the man lean back to relish the sensation of his mouth. The sight towering over him so infuriatingly beautiful it only made him more depraved for it.

He unzipped his own pants, pulling his cock free to start stroking himself. Watching Regulus look down at him with a heavy-lidded stare. Watch his eyes shift their focus to James’ cock in his hand, then his own in James’ mouth. His perfect lips hanging open, on the edge of a moan.

James grew all the more eager, taking him down his throat with practiced movements. He felt the hot pulse of Regulus’ cock throbbing on his tongue, maddened by the need to chase the high he was working up to. He had to grip himself tight, desperate to not finish before him. And as the pleasure escalated, so did the aggression. Like a deep set frustration that lingered hot below the surface. At Regulus for being so maddeningly, overwhelmingly dazzling that he couldn’t help but push his thumb into the tender hickey at his hip and listen to him hiss in pain.

Regulus seemed to catch it like it was contagious. His fingers tightening their grip in James’ hair and forcing him down. Hips working up into his mouth, demanding whatever kind of payback he could get.

James didn’t whine, didn’t fight it. Instead he moaned again, blissful sound like he could nearly laugh. Taking Regulus just as furiously as he was given with no complaint.

It was Regulus who finally pushed at his shoulders. “Here,” he said, slipping a lube packet from his back pocket that he must have been carrying the whole night.

James turned Regulus’ hips, until he was facing the sink again. He stood to his feet, ripping into the packet with his teeth and dispensing it into his hand. He wasted no time in pushing Regulus’ jeans down to mid-thigh, reaching under him to touch at his entrance. He watched the shudder between his shoulder blades when he braced against the counter, his head hanging low, but his expression tight in the mirror. It made it easy for James to watch him as he opened him up, becoming in tune with the way his jaw would unclench when he was open enough, ready for the next one.

Four fingers was probably a bit overkill, but James had been too caught up in watching him by the time he noticed. Feeling his eagerness roar back to life in the depths of his stomach, pulling his hand away to run it over himself. Push into Regulus like a knife through soft butter.

Regulus seemed to cave, wilting towards the mirror like a sunflower too heavy for its stalk. He braced a hand across the mirror, keeping his arm locked as James continued to enter him. His body tenser with every thrust. The space around his handprint on the mirror went dewy from the heat.

James could feel himself falling into the rhythm they had, more familiar each time they did this. He took a hand from Regulus’ hip, snaking it up his chest to hold his throat between his fingers. He put his mouth just behind the man’s ear, whispering furiously, “Look at yourself.”

Regulus’ eyes opened, the blacks of his eyes wide as he carefully eyed himself in the mirror.

“Look at how fucking stunning you are. So stunning when you’re this close.”

James watched his brows tilt upward, fighting a wave of something that was coursing over him. He slid his hand down to Regulus’ cock, wrapping firmly around him.

“No,” Regulus gasped. “You don’t have to touch me. Just don’t stop.”

“Reg, I’m close.”

“So am I. Don’t stop.”

James took his word for it, replacing the hand on his hip as he started to more viciously thrust into him. Feeling the heat dripping down every vein as if someone had injected him with something. He could feel himself growing delirious, clumsy in his efforts as he inched closer to his end. His jaw tensing as he started to hear Regulus cry out loud, looking up to watch in the reflection as he spilled into the sink. His chest so flushed it nearly looked like a sunburn, his mouth so open and desperate, his eyes weak and hazy. It was a powerful enough visual to finally put James over his edge, careening into his climax with just as loud of a groan as his hips stifled to stop inside him.

James’ forehead fell into Regulus’ shoulder, coming down there. He soaked in the light layer of sweat on the man’s skin, breathing in again to smell the mix tainted now with the cum in the bowl. It made the high of the sex sustain, like he could chase it forever if he kept Regulus close enough.

“James?”

He raised his heavy head, only enough to bring it to Regulus’ neck. Kiss at the skin there. “Yeah,” he breathed, tasting the salt on his lips.

Regulus’ shoulders weakened, another overstimulated whimper pulled from his chest. “Come on,” he panted. “Let’s go home.”

Something about the sex brought the alcohol to the forefront. So that both of them were drunker than they thought as they walked back through the near empty streets toward Regulus’ place. James had his arm laced around Regulus’ shoulder, while Regulus’ hand was wrapped around his hip. Holding onto each other for equal parts warmth, support, and affection as they felt their loose limbs stagger beneath them.

“You sure Pandora won’t mind?” James asked.

“For the third time, no. She is a big girl, James. If I had a nickel for everytime she pulled a disappearing act on me-”

“You wouldn’t have to be mean to old men.”

Regulus smiled, looking over at him. “Should I stop being mean to you then?”

“I’m not an old man,” he countered. “In fact, I think I’ve more than proved that my body is in peak physical condition, right?”

Regulus hissed through his teeth, looking off in thought, “There’s a joke somewhere in there but I’m too buzzed to find it. Peak my physical-no, that’s not it. On the condition, I peak first-”

“Stop now or you’ll hurt yourself,” James laughed.

Just then, the sound of the distant traffic and buzzing power lines was joined by something fainter. James looked up ahead, towards a jazz club at the opposite corner. The windows of it were open, seeping faint bossa nova onto the street.

“Hey,” Regulus whispered.

James looked over at him, seeing the shine of the streetlights in his eyes.

He grabbed James’ hands, standing across from him, “You really won’t dance with me?”

“Baby, I told you. I’m not good. My parents gave me two left feet.”

“No one is here. It’s just me.”

James sighed, knowing he was trapped. He laced an arm around Regulus’ back, taking his hand.

Regulus smiled, taking it as his cue to lead. Not forcing anything wild. Just a simple sway to the beat.

James could feel the press of his body, his thighs brushing his own knees. It helped him, until he felt a little better anticipating his next move. Align himself with the unique rhythm of Regulus’ body.

“Look, you got it,” the man giggled. He held him closer, laying his head to his chest.

They stayed like that, swaying to the music. James could feel his softened heartbeat against him, letting his eyes fall close as he soaked in everything about this. Like a feeling he wanted to keep coming back to no matter what life threw at them.

“Reg?” he finally broke the silence. “What did you tell them about me?”

“Who?”

“Pandora. Barty. They knew me before I could even introduce myself.”

He shook his head, “I don’t remember.”

“Yes, you do. What did you tell them?”

“Same thing you told yours,” he shrugged.

“Which is?”

He sighed, drawing his head up to look at him. “That I met someone. A client. And that I like him. More than a client.”

James smiled.

“Stop.”

He didn’t. “You told them my name.”

Regulus’ eyes grew weaker. “Yeah.”

“And that we kissed? Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he breathed. “Barty was probably being annoying. I probably just wanted to shut him up.”

“No wonder he hates me.”

“Well, imagine it from his perspective,” he protested. “Every client he’s ever known has been the villain of his story. He was the one that taught me that, you know? That they can’t be trusted. Mistreat them before they mistreat you.”

“Mm,” James hummed, holding him closer at just the hypothetical of Regulus getting mistreated.

“Then I come home from a job one day and tell them I have this gut feeling. That you weren’t like the other clients. You were different.” He stopped his rambling, shaking his head, “I wouldn’t have believed me either.”

James knew he’d been saying it from the start. That he was different from the other clients. That his intentions were different. But it was a little harder to believe when hearing it from Regulus’ mouth. Perhaps it was simply modesty watering down his sureness. “What did they say?”

“Pandora was on your side.”

“A woman of taste,” he huffed. “Knew I liked her.”

“But Barty had already decided that you were some master manipulator. Told me I was being ‘dangerously naive’,” he enunciated like a quote burned into his subconscious.

James scoffed, “God, he’ll say anything to get his way, won’t he?”

Regulus looked up towards his eyes, “What do you mean?”

He looked back at him, watching the streetlight in his eyes glow warm. He shook his head, “I don’t think he cares that I’m a client. He just wants you all to himself.”

“He’s protective.”

“Possessive,” he corrected.

Regulus rolled his eyes, “Well, maybe you two would make a good match then.” He pulled away from James, continuing down the block with long strides.

“Hey,” James called after him, running to fall into step next to him. He laced his arm back around his shoulders, pulling their sides together and speaking low in his ear. “I’m glad you trusted your gut on me.”

And though it was clear he was trying to hide it, James could see the smile ease his face.

When they finally reached Regulus’ block, the man skipped up the steps to the door. James stayed at the bottom step, sliding his hands into his pockets as he watched him. The mix of angles and curves on his body. The shine of his hair in the light. The juxtaposition of this edgy, youthful man who was wise beyond his years. The dissenter, the Park Ave heretic. Different from all the rest. He felt something in his own gut, a kick that he couldn’t ignore. A command from deep in his intuition.

Regulus swung the door open, looking back over his shoulder and catching James’ eye. “What?” he smiled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He swallowed, wavering on his feet. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Where?”

“To my event tomorrow.”

“Shut up,” Regulus laughed, shaking his head.

“I’m serious.”

His smile went weak, flustered confusion swirling deep in his stare. “So what? You want me to be your-”

“Date?” James offered. “Yeah, I want you to be my date.”

Regulus seemed to freeze momentarily, looking down to his keys as he fidgeted pensively. “Not exactly my crowd.”

James shrugged, “Not really mine either.”

He could see the way that Regulus had started chewing on his cheek, his whole stance getting a little more hostile, irked by the suggestion. Brows drawing together in a tight glare when he spoke. “You know you can’t just sneak me in and not expect the WASPs to notice me. I don’t exactly blend in.”

“I know you don’t blend in. I don’t want you to.”

The glare didn’t ease, crossing his arms over his chest as the words bit from his mouth, “So, what? You’re going to introduce me to them? As your college buddy? Your stepson?”

James saw straight through his hostility, knowing it was nothing but a mask to cover insecurity. He smiled, tilting his head up to look at Regulus standing taller. Like he was the god and James was the supplicant. “Or I could just say you're my boyfriend?”

Regulus’ expression softened. Eyes blurring. Speaking not far above a murmur. “You’re so full of shit, James Potter.”

“I’m not joking, Reg,” he climbed the stairs two at a time, watching his proximity widen Regulus’ gaze. He stood next to him on the top step, touching his cheek and feeling it guide him closer. “I want you to come.”

He could smell the drink on his breath, pupils wide as they painted down James’ face. “We’ll see.”

James could feel his mouth pull into a smile. His touch smoothing down to Regulus’ chin, drawing him close enough to kiss. “That’s not a no.”

“Nor is it a yes, darling,” Regulus breathed as he pulled away to cross the threshold.

James stood on that stoop a moment longer, desperate to commit it to memory. And when he felt like he’d done it justice, he followed Regulus inside.