Chapter Text
James was fuming. Barely dressed. Still buttoning up a shirt that Regulus had tossed him from the wardrobe. It was a bit too tight across the chest, so he left the top few undone. Too short on the sleeves, so he started to roll them up his forearms. His feet were bare still, heels of them pounding hard on the stone floors of the main house as he made his way from the guesthouse to the opposite wing. The breaths seethed from his nose, brows drawn together tight as he spat out his words like they were laced with poison. “How dare he?” he felt his teeth gnash together in the back of his mouth. “He thinks he can come in here and-”
Regulus’ hand was lacing around his inner arm, trying to hold him back, “Wait a minute. Don’t just go storming in there and-”
James fought it, pulling from his grip and still moving, “Why is he here? He doesn’t talk to Andy. Or you. And the last time he spoke with me, we-”
“Fought, yes,” Regulus chased after him with quickened steps to keep up with his longer gait.
“If he’s just here to stir the pot. To tell me that we aren’t friends anymore. That he doesn’t approve of us. To spit on everything and-”
“James,” Regulus darted in front of him, putting two hands to his chest as he pushed him back with subtle force. Meeting his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. “You’re being hasty.”
James felt the spell of anger weaken at the sight of him. They’d reached a hall between the wings that was all windows. Outside, the morning light was saffron gold and the trees on the edges of the grounds were dusted in autumn, but all James could focus on was the warmth it brought to the man’s face. His wide navy eyes, his pinked cheeks, his t-shirt still askew on his shoulders from the flurry. James would have more habitually grounded himself back in his anger, letting it keep him warm like a security blanket, but the sight in front of him clicked into place instead. As if comfort had a new face. “How am I being hasty?”
“We can’t assume why he’s here.”
We. Gods, even in the whirlwind, it made his gut twist with affection. “Why else would he be here?”
“I just said, we can’t assume.”
James scanned his face from brow to mouth, trying to decode him. “Since when are you-”
“James,” Regulus rolled his eyes. “For the love of god. We are not bickering like this already.”
“You’re right. We’re not,” James crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not letting him talk to you.”
The man scoffed, half his mouth pulling up incredulously, “I don’t think that will go over well.”
“I couldn’t care less.”
“He’s my brother.”
“And he’s had nothing but nasty things to say about you, so forgive me if I’m a little…” he watched something in Regulus’ eyes flicker. Something shining through the blankness like a gem buried in the ocean floor. A few months ago, it wouldn’t have caught his attention, but now he couldn’t look away. “What?” he asked, softer as he took a step towards him. His hands instinctively held the man’s face, tilting his chin up towards his eyes like he was trying to get a better look.
Regulus held his stare, body weakening slightly as he leaned up to kiss him.
Kissing him again was like medicine. Powerful enough to sedate James’ most turbulent thoughts, to make the chaos clear. So much so that when Regulus pulled away and met his eyes again, the only words left in his mouth rolled out.
“I just got you,” he whispered, throat choking around them. “I’m not going to… I can’t…”
Regulus kept watching him, waiting patiently.
James swallowed, fingers brushing up into his soft curls. “This is how I lost you last time,” he said, voice going hoarse. “To him.”
Regulus shook his head faintly, “You didn’t lose me. I left.”
It was true, stabbing pain like muscle memory seeping through all of him. He gripped him tighter. “I don’t want you to leave again,” he said. It sounded so stupidly desperate, pleading. Darkest fears untempered, embarrassingly vulnerable.
Regulus embraced him, chin folding over his shoulder as his arms held around his middle tightly. His skittish heartbeat skipping against James’ chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
James held him just as tight, eyes pressed close and nose tucked into his neck to let the smell of his skin calm him. The embarrassment waning to nothing. He held his breath to keep from crying, not wanting to let go. Wanting every moment between them to pause time, stall so they wouldn’t have to face this. “I don’t get it,” he said, the heel of his hand running across Regulus’ sharp shoulder blades. “How the fuck are you okay right now?”
“I’m not sure I am,” he whispered. “But I would have been an idiot not to have played out this conversation a million times in my head.”
James pulled away, seeing what had been flickering now plainly there. He was scared. Untempered and vulnerable. “And how did it go?”
Regulus forced a self-deprecating smile, “Awful every time.”
James huffed, smiling too in the same sad way. He held onto his hands, thumbs running over his knuckles nervously, pulling them up to his mouth to kiss them, whisper to them. “Let me talk to him first.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly necessary,” he shook his head.
“Baby,” he begged, watching it widen Regulus’ eyes. “Just let me do this. Give me permission to be rash and overprotective. Give me permission to love you loud enough that he can feel it.”
That morning light warmed his expression, a more genuine smile simmering underneath his lingering anxieties. “Fine,” he nodded. “You have my permission.”
—
Andy had put Sirius up in the drawing room where the groomsmen had gotten ready just the day before. It felt like years ago that Arthur was hunched over the desk, writing his vows. Now instead, it felt bigger, quieter. From the doorway, James could see Sirius sitting on one of the couches. The man’s clothes were all shades of competing black and gray, his head hung low, posture curled in on itself. A curtain of dark hair in his face as he seemed to stare off towards the carpet, distantly resembling a shaggy dog. James let the door close with a click that had Sirius stirring, raising his head with a deep breath.
His mouth split into a soured smile. “Bonjour,” he said, thick accent heavy of mocking sarcasm.
James didn’t speak, not trusting himself yet as the anger was still too close to the top. He took slow steps towards a chair that sat opposite of the man, sinking into the seat and forcing his eyes upward. Sirius wasn’t looking at him, but even with eyes averted, he didn’t appear to be the same man James had last seen. His curls had been mismanaged until they were nearly straight, his skin blanched pale, eyes tired. Clothes so far removed from the clear, autumn morning in the countryside. They were heavy, dark, utilitarian. Like perhaps winter had come early to Seattle.
James felt the bubbling of emotion that he was trying to temper. Trying to remember Regulus’ calm words, his soft mouth. Trying, with minimal success, to mimic that softness in his tone, “Who told you I was here?”
Sirius still didn’t look at him, his eyes going more round, out of focus at the spot on the rug he’d settled on.
James surmised his own answer, sighing hard. “Did Lily tell you he was here as well?” he asked. Not needing to name him. They both knew who he was referencing.
Sirius held something back, his eyes finally coming up, but they were so stormy and blue like he was lost at sea. “Strange you met my cousin before I could even introduce you,” he noted. “She’s sweet, isn’t she?”
James glared at him. “How would you know? I heard you don’t talk to her, don’t come to visit.”
Sirius’ expression didn’t crack, blinking as he looked towards the door. “Where is your lover boy?” he breathed lazily. “Or ex lover boy perhaps.”
“Why are you here, Sirius?” James’ jaw tensed around his words.
“I could ask the same of you,” he raised a dark brow. “I thought you and my brother were over.”
James wasn’t ready to admit what had happened yet. That they were far from over. Not knowing how it would be weaponized against him. “I was here on business to see your brother.”
“I thought you two were past exchanging money.”
James’ grip on the chair arm tightened. “If you joke like that again-”
“It wasn’t a joke,” he wrinkled his nose. “As if I’m in any position to-”
“Of course, it was a joke. You can never help yourself. As soon as some dumb shit pops into your mercurial little head-”
He scoffed, “For the love of god, James-”
“I’m just saying, if you joke like that again, I’ll break your nose.”
“Would you be so kind?” his mouth spread into a soulless, toothy grin. “I’m a bit jet lagged. Could use the wake up.”
James paused, seeing the flash of charisma brightening his tired eyes. And it felt so achingly familiar. Like he was finally seeing the best friend, not the older brother. Realizing he missed him more than he was allowing himself too. It skimmed some of that anger off the top. But not enough of it. “Tell me why you are here, Sirius,” he said, more firmly this time.
Sirius seemed to squirm under a request for sincerity. Uncomfortable with being too honest, too weak. He picked at an invisible thread on his pants. Swallowing past something heavy in his throat, “You and I didn’t leave things on great terms.”
“Really? And whose fault is that?” James mocked.
Sirius’ face twitched like a bolt of pain radiating across his expression. He held his mouth open, like the words would crumble if he closed it. “I’m sorry, James,” he finally hushed, forcing it out with great difficulty. “I was caught off-guard. Said things I shouldn’t have. Especially to my best friend.”
James couldn’t ignore the lightening of his heavy heart at those two words. Best friend. He searched the man’s expression for some sort of lingering sarcasm he hadn’t caught. But it wasn’t there. He pressed his lips together in thought, raking clammy palms down his thighs. “Why did you react like that?”
Sirius didn’t speak with any ease. Each word seemed like a struggle, a fight to let surface. “It felt like a betrayal.”
“It wasn’t,” James shook his head. “I didn’t know he was your-”
“I know, I know,” he nodded. “But I was already feeling low from my work shit. And…” he stopped, face tightening again.
It took James a moment to realize he was fighting back tears. He sat frozen, waiting for him to continue.
Sirius held a breath in his chest, straining to control it before he spoke. “I could hear them,” he said. “My parents. Their voices in my head were louder than they’ve been in years. And then, my brother pops back into my life in the strangest of ways and… it was bad timing. To say the least.”
“How are you now?”
“I’m…” he blinked. “I’m just so fucking confused.”
“Why?”
He shook his head. “I can’t tell what part I play in this. And I feel like I’m going insane.”
James watched him, concern filling the space where the anger had been. “What do you mean?”
“James, am…” he bit down on his lips. Tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “Am I the villain here?”
James wasn’t sure. He didn’t think so. But it was hard to tell. Hard to reconcile the selfish monster of Regulus’ stories with the man he’d known for a decade crying in front of him.
“Because I’ve spent so much of my life being cast as the villain,” he shook his head. “To the point where I could no longer discern if it was who I really was or just the part I was playing out. And this whole thing…” his tears slipped down his cheek, he rushed to wipe them away. “It feels like I’m living it all over again. Like I can’t trust my own intentions.”
James could see it pulling him apart. Vaguely understanding what it must be like to have been so brainwashed to believe you’re evil that even your attempts at goodness feel like there must be some hidden malevolence to them. But that narrative didn’t align with the man who went on a date with James’ T.A. just to get him a passing grade in his philosophy class and graduate. Who threw a surprise party the first birthday after his parents passed. Who had slept at his side for two weeks after Lily left.
“I don’t think you’re the villain, Sirius,” he told him honestly.
“You did last time we talked.”
James fought back his own regrets, hands rubbing together in his lap. “I was hurting too. I was heartbroken. I wanted to be mad for Regulus. Because it felt like the only tie I had left to him,” he admitted with words he hadn’t yet articulated to even himself. “It made it easy to forget that you’re more than his brother. That before any of this, you were my best friend.”
Sirius stared at him, pressing knuckles up against his mouth and rubbing into the soft spaces between them. “Am I still your best friend?” he asked, hesitantly.
James looked at him. “Of course you are, Sirius.”
His eyes wet all over again. “You know,” he sniffled weakly. “I spent a lot of time thinking about you. Thinking about him.”
“And?” James raised his brows.
“I know you aren’t together,” he wiped his nose, smiling like it was through pain. “But I’m sort of sad I missed it. In some gross fascination kind of way.”
James started to understand. “You didn’t just come here to see me.”
Sirius didn’t answer, lip quivering as his tears doubled in his eyes. They spilled over, shoulders shuddering silently as he tried to hold it back. Tried to subdue it.
“I can get him,” James suggested. “If that’s what you want.”
Sirius shook more and more until he couldn’t silence it anymore. He broke, choking around the sobs as his head went into his hands. Covering the messy spill of tears beneath as his body rocked forward. Teeth chattering and chest heaving as if the wave of emotion was a tsunami too powerful for one body to emanate.
James’ eyes widened, feeling the full force of the eruption. He rushed to his side, sitting on the couch and wrapping arms around him. And though Sirius tried to push away, James held tighter, trying to contain him. Feeling the tears spill onto his shirt, the shake of his body, the quake of his heartbeat. And it didn’t stop, just intensified. Louder and more violent until James was forced to ask. “What is this? What are you afraid of?”
“He-” Sirius tried to speak but it was sputtering, muddled in between sobs. “He always made me feel like they were right.”
“Who?”
“Our parents,” he howled. “Don’t you see it? He only ever saw me through their eyes. I was the villain, the scapegoat, the problem. And that version of me needed to die with them. But in him, James, it lives on. And as long as he’s here, in my life, I can’t escape it. Because he is the mirror that shows me the worst version of myself.”
James tightened in his arms, closing his eyes as he tried to ground Sirius in something more tangible than pain. “He’s not the brainwashed child from your memory.”
“But if-” he smeared the tears away. “If he hates me. If he can’t forgive me, see me for who I really am. If he can’t see the good in me, then it will kill me. I don’t think I’ll ever recover.” He tightened his fists against James’ back, gritted his teeth in tumultuous frustration. “God fucking damn it,” he hissed.
James pulled back to search his face, seeing the rawness there. The fear and anger and bitterness that he knew wasn’t for Regulus, not really. It was for himself. “That’s why you’ve avoided him for this long,” he realized. “Because his opinion of you means this much.”
“It means everything,” he cried, curling his sleeves up over his hands to keep wiping at his red cheeks. “And I hate it. I hate that he could destroy me on a whim and it would mean nothing to him. He could crush me between his fingers and enjoy it.”
James shook his head, “Then why give him the chance? Why fly all the way here?”
Sirius took his time, reeling back his outburst. Letting the sobs weaken to cries, then to heaving breaths that rattled his whole chest. He kept his eyes averted, shoulders curled tight. Face contorting like he was trying not to cry again. “He must not have told you.”
James felt something nervous in his chest stir. Tired of secrets and the way they sank their teeth into everything. “Tell me what.”
“He called me yesterday,” he admitted with a sniff. “From your phone.”
“What?” James’ face fell open. “When?”
He shook his head, “It was late. Must have been early here.”
James traced back to the morning before. Remembering waking up to Regulus at his bedside. He must have stolen his phone away then. “Did you talk to him?”
“I was asleep already. But in the morning, I had a voicemail from you,” he huffed, dotting the corners of his eyes. “Imagine my shock when it wasn’t your voice, but his. After all these years, I could still recognize it immediately.”
James wondered how, why. Wondered why Regulus hadn’t told him that morning when they learned Sirius was here. “What did he say?”
He shrugged, swallowing down the remnants of his tears through a rough throat. “He said he wanted to talk. Told me he was at Andy’s. He kept it short. Deadpan. You know him.”
James did know him, could have nearly imagined it for himself. James remembered when it was aggravating, but somewhere along the way, it had become endearing. Just like everything else about Regulus. Interesting how Sirius couldn’t hide a singular emotion to save his life, but Regulus could hide a universe of them. “You didn’t have to come.”
“I didn’t,” he shook his head. “But I know this was greater than just him now. I know earning his respect back means earning yours too. And I can’t lose you. …I can’t lose any more brothers.”
James could hear it in his voice. How deeply this unsettled him. How the people around him were anchors he would float away without. And sure, Remus was great, but there was more to Sirius’ happiness than just one person. Especially when family hadn’t been a constant in his life. It had made every person that much more precious.
“You won’t lose me,” he promised, wrapping his arms around him as he could feel his friend struggling to keep his composure again. Both of them knew what came next. Who Sirius would be forced to face. And all the insecurities that came with it. James could feel his pain, his fear. As if the conversations and voices were playing out in him over and over again, driving him mad. “Do you hear him in there?” he asked softly in his ear.
He nodded against his shoulder. “It’s awful, James,” he sighed, ragged and broken. “The things he says are awful.”
“Sirius,” James pushed him, meeting his eyes. “You know he can’t be any crueler than you already are to yourself.”
“But what if-” he stopped himself, anxieties ruminating endlessly behind watery eyes. He shook his head, “I can’t. I can’t keep living this conversation over and over again.”
“Let’s demystify it,” James agreed. “Let’s have it.”
Sirius winced, visibly fighting past darker thoughts. He took a deep breath. “Will you sit in?” he pleaded. “Please.”
“Why?” he asked, feeling like an intrusion already. It felt wrong to put himself in the room when the history was so much larger than him.
“I just… if it goes south, I don’t trust myself to remember it correctly,” he shook his head, conveying his weakness in glaring, uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I don’t trust what my memory will hold onto. I need someone impartial. Someone who will tell me if I fucked it up. If it is my fault. Otherwise, I’ll blame any and all of it on myself.”
James listened to him with unwavering loyalty, seeing clearly just how damaged he was. Just how much he needed James. “I’ll sit in,” he assured him. “But I don’t want you to forgive him just because it is convenient. I don’t want to gloss over old wounds. If you’re going to be in my life, in his life, I want to know that it’s over. That things have settled between you two.”
“James,” Sirius took a shuddering breath, clearly staving off whatever inclination there was to run away from this again. “I would have gotten on that plane years ago if he would have called me.”
—
James found Regulus in the hallway just outside the door, pacing with his thumbnail between his teeth as his out of focus gaze seemed to be tracing the vines of the floral runner that ran down the length. When James closed the door behind him, the man raised his head, eyes wide with an imminent question and a paralyzing hesitation.
James sighed, shoulders falling with relief at the sight of him. That same sense of comfort that filled in the ambiguous spaces between his emotions, enveloping them until they felt safe enough to feel. He went to him, not saying a word as he wrapped him up in his arms. Cheek in his hair, chest to chest.
Regulus leaned into him, burying into him with a shiver down his back.
James let him stay there for only a moment before he was raising his face with his hands, eyeing him carefully. Seeing the same overwhelming fear that he had seen in Sirius. Not knowing how he could have been obtuse enough to not see the similarities between them before. He took a deep breath, feeling the way Regulus instinctively took it with him.
“You called him.”
Regulus’ lips buttoned together, something like shame flashing across his features. He nodded.
“Why?” James shook his head.
The man didn’t answer quickly, his fingers tracing the line of James’ collarbone through his shirt as he stood pensive and self-conscious, heavier on one foot. “As soon as I saw my brother’s photo in your wallet, I knew this is what it would take,” he admitted with a strain in his voice. “And while it was enough to scare me away before, I knew when you showed up here that I didn’t want to ever be without you again. So I have to do this, James. I have to face him.”
The stunning similarities between the brothers went much further than looks and a shared grief for their childhood. They both saw James as a loss too great not to face their fears. And it overwhelmed James with a love for both of them that he knew would never waver again.
“Reg, listen to me,” he breathed. “He’s terrified. He’s a mess.”
“Honestly?” he looked stunned, like perhaps he was not expecting it. “Why? Why is he scared of me?”
James’ mouth pressed into a thin line, briefly looking back towards the door to the drawing room. He lowered his voice, “He feels like he’s facing his parents.”
Regulus’ brows turned downward, expression going dark. “I’m not them.”
“I know you’re not,” he nodded. “I think he knows too. But his worst fear is that you will see him the same way they did.”
Regulus stared at him, looking like he was replaying it over and over until it made sense to him. His expression tightened, wincing in a mix of frustration and sadness. “It’s so fucked,” he hissed, leaning his forehead into James’ chest. “We are children in adult costumes. I fucking hate it.”
“I know,” he held him, hating it too. Hating that the past had that sort of power over them. The power to make them carry around their childhoods like a cinder block they couldn’t put down. “It’s clear that there are wounds that haven’t healed. But that doesn’t mean they can’t.”
Regulus was quiet, pressed into him. Forcing his labored breaths in and out as a means to steady himself.
“Reg, tell me,” James asked. “What are you so afraid of?”
He took his time. Considered his words. “He was always the strong one. That’s why he left and I didn’t.”
James wasn’t sure of that. Sirius wasn’t exactly the picture of strength sobbing on the settee.
“I’m not mad at him for leaving me with them. Maybe there was a time that I was, but I grew the fuck up and realized he was well within his right to leave. They didn’t deserve him,” he shook his head. “And me? Well. I would have left me, too.”
“Regulus,” James sighed. “It’s not like that.”
“He’s only here because of you,” he met his eyes.
“That’s not true.”
His brows drew together, “Then what are these nasty things he’s said about me then?”
“He was hurt,” he affirmed. “Just like you were. Made you into a villain. Just like you did to him.”
Regulus went quiet, perhaps knowing he was right.
James’ hands held him carefully. Like the precious and delicate thing he was. “You know what he told me?”
“Hm,” he hummed, leaning his face into his touch.
“He said he had been waiting for your call for years. Said he would have gotten on a plane as soon as he heard your voice.”
Regulus stared unblinking. “Why would he say that?”
“Because he wants this.”
Regulus softened momentarily before he seemed to gather that modicum of courage he had when he first called Sirius. His jaw set tight as he took another deep breath. “I need you with me,” he told James. “I can’t just talk to him. I mean, I could, but. Every time we’ve talked it always devoles and I just don’t see how-”
“Hey,” James stopped him, hands firmly on his shoulders. “It’s okay. I can be there.”
Regulus’ navy eyes filled with courage in a way that made James realize that courage and fear weren’t on opposite sides of a spectrum, but instead, could coexist. “I’m ready,” he nodded. “I’m ready.”
James went in first, listening for Regulus’ slower steps behind him as if to be certain he didn’t run off. Shielding Sirius’ view of him with his body as he held his stare with an unspoken warning. Be honest. Be reasonable. Be careful. James took his same seat, watching as Sirius’ gaze finally shifted to Regulus.
His friend’s stare was reddened around the rims, unmoving and dark all at once. An awkward tug of his lips like he didn’t know what to do with them. Pulled between a wild mix of reactions that he didn’t want to be perceived, that inane fear of it being used against him. Of Regulus being cruel to his suffering, though James knew that wouldn’t happen.
Regulus took his seat next to James. A blank wash across his expression as he held Sirius’ stare in a near challenge. Perhaps it was habitual, flexing itself like muscle memory.
Sirius seemed to decide on a forced smile, something nearly sarcastic curled into the edges of it. “You look good, baby brother.”
Regulus’ gaze panned down his face, his clothes. “You look like shit.”
Sirius choked around a feeble cackle, running a hand through that messy hair of his, “Yeah. Well. I feel like shit. And I really don’t want to fucking be here right now doing this.”
“But you are,” Regulus noted.
Sirius lifted his eyes. The sarcasm faded away. “You called for me.”
He nodded. “I did.”
Sirius’ lip quivered, his hand immediately covering it, brushing against some of the shadow there. At risk of rupturing that same sensitive dam he’d shattered in James’ presence. He restrained, voice soft and rough in his throat, “How have you been?”
Regulus seemed to let go of a breath he’d been holding since he walked in, fingers drumming against his knees. “Pretty shit.”
“Yeah?” Sirius’ eyes shined. James could see the tint of concern there, hoping Regulus saw it too.
“Yeah,” Regulus sat back in his chair. “But it’s getting better.”
Sirius fussed with rings on his fingers, shoulders lifting higher around his ears. “I heard about…” he huffed. “Well, I heard a lot.”
“Don’t trust everything you hear.”
“So, you haven’t been mean to rich men for money?”
“Oh no, I have,” he crossed one leg over the other.
Sirius laughed, however minutely. “Heard you were damn good at it,” he smothered a smirk. “I believed it, too.”
“I was,” Regulus nodded, folding fingers together against his knee. “But I’m not doing it anymore.”
“Why not?” Sirius pouted. “I was quite jealous. Thought the Black charisma was my thing.”
“Of course, you did,” he raised a brow. “But no. It was time to stop. To be more than the degenerates they always thought we'd be.”
James watched it click. Somewhere on Sirius’ face, between his brows and his mouth where the smirk went stale. Realizing that Regulus had been there when Sirius broke the news about getting fired. Undecided on how to feel about it.
Regulus still looked uneasy, though he was better at obscuring it, burying it under false stoicism. However, James could see the great effort it was taking for him to speak again. He cleared his throat, eyes temporarily averting. “You’ve done well for yourself, Sirius.”
Sirius looked like he was about to cry all over again. Eyes glossing before he blinked the shine away. “Yeah, well,” he swallowed, speaking through a wet throat. “I’m older than I thought I’d ever be. Happier too.”
“Me too,” Regulus nodded, looking at his brother.
Sirius smiled, letting it fall down into his hands. His lip twisting behind his teeth. “You met James,” he perked up, beckoning towards him.
Regulus looked over, meeting his eyes with instant tenderness. “I did.”
“What do you think?” Sirius asked. “He’s a bit of a hot head, but-”
“I think he’s perfect,” Regulus said, reaching over to capture James’ hand. He folded their fingers together. Smiling softly at him, though the nerves were still tucked into the edges.
James’ chest went warm as if Regulus was up against it, wanting to kiss him and remembering he could. But not here, not now. Later. Many later.
“You know what I love about him?” Regulus asked, his eyes still on James.
“Love?” Sirius choked, eyes wide when James met them again. He was taking in their hands, their smiles. Making connections that were obviously throwing him through a loop. He coughed, shaking his head, “Yeah, sure. What do you love about James?”
Regulus’ thumb grazed James’ hand. So warm and soft and familiar in ways that made the warmth in James’ chest clench tight with an ache of affection. “That he sees people for what they are. Beyond what the world sees in them.”
James’ affection doubled, tripled, until it felt like something that was hard to contain. He felt the prick of tears at the corner of his eyes, looking over towards Sirius and seeing a similar soft smile on his mouth too.
“I agree,” his friend nodded.
James felt their love, their gratitude. It overwhelmed him to the point of speechlessness.
Regulus looked towards his brother, the mask of stoicism falling away. Revealing sincerity that was mirrored in every word he spoke. “Sirius. I know he sees something worth loving in you. Even if you don’t. And I see it, too.”
Sirius’ blue eyes welled up all over again, face twisting up with emotion. His chin trembled, struggling to keep his voice from shaking. “We were taught love is earned, Reggie. And I’m not sure I’ve done enough to earn your love, James’ love, anyone’s.”
“No,” Regulus shook his head. “You’ve earned everyone’s love. Everyone but mom and dad. But you could never have done enough to earn theirs, Sirius. It was a lost cause.”
Sirius’ tears slipped down his face, silently as he tried to quickly blot them away with his sleeves. “They loved you,” he shrugged. “You were strong, Reggie. That’s why you could stay. Cause you were the strong one. And they saw that. They thought you were perfect. The way they’d brag about you to their friends, you should have heard it. Perfect student, perfect dancer-”
“I wasn’t strong. I was obedient. And they knew that,” Regulus said firmly. “Because god forbid, I was an individual like my brother. With my own desires and my own passions. No, no, that would have been too big of an inconvenience to them. Being what they wanted me to be, being…purely decorative, made it easier to believe they loved me. But the truth is they never really knew me. They never cared to. So they couldn’t have loved me.”
Sirius’ shoulders were quaking again, covering his mouth to keep from crying out. “You put them to rest when they passed. You did everything.”
“I had no choice,” he shook his head. “I was alone.”
Sirius curled into himself, elbows on his knees as he held his face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he cried, shaking his head with a certain madness like the past that haunted him was right before him. Because in Regulus, it was.
“You needed time,” Regulus said, like a phrase he had repeated until he believed it. Very little emotion, only the kind of strength one uncovered when they were forced against their will to find it.
“So did you,” Sirius fought. “But you weren’t given that luxury. You were forced to grow up in ways I wasn’t ready to. You were always the older brother, Reggie. Always.”
Regulus’ gaze fogged. The hand that was laced into James’ lap went still. He ran his other hand across his brow, laying the hairs down passively. He took a deep breath, mumbling softly like speaking any louder might bring the tears forward, “It cost me more than I would have liked.”
Sirius’ flooded eyes locked onto him, piecing him together with such fragility. Like the puzzle would crumble in his hands as soon as he finished it. “Is that…” he tried to say, but it was barely a hiss in his weak throat. “Is that why you stopped dancing? Why you started…” His words trailed off, but their meaning tore through the room leaving uncomfortable silence in its wake.
Regulus wasn’t quick to answer, face fighting off a wince of recollection. “Yeah,” he whispered.
Sirius took a breath that rattled weakly in his chest. “You loved dancing.”
“I did,” he nodded, tears slipping from the edges of his dark lashes. “I really did.”
“I’m sorry,” Sirius breathed. “I’m so sorry.”
Regulus shook his head, as if to excuse it, but never did. He stayed staring at a spot on the rug, pensive for a long time as the tears silently chased the trails left on his cheeks. “For a long time, I believed you hated me just like you hated them.”
“I never hated you, Reggie,” he insisted. “I just didn’t know how to save space for you without feeling like they were in the room too.”
“I wish it wasn’t like that. I wish I wasn’t proof they existed.”
Sirius nodded. “Me too.”
Regulus chewed on his cheek. “Were you really mad? About the company?”
Sirius shook his head, “I needed something to be mad about. If it hadn’t been the company, it would have been something else. I couldn’t let them leave this world without being mad one more time.”
“I didn’t know you wanted it. If I had-”
“I know,” Sirius nodded. “It’s okay. Really. It wasn’t for me. And that’s okay.”
“I saved…” Regulus stopped, clearing his throat as he wiped the tears away. “I saved your share of it. The inheritance. The dividends. You can take it.”
Sirius’ brows furrowed, tilting his head confused, “I don’t have an inheritance. I was cut off, remember?”
Regulus looked at him, allowing himself to be the meek and nervous thing he was. “I saved half. For you.”
Sirius’ eyes widened, shock filling all the space the sadness had been. He blinked, “Why didn’t you tell me? When they-”
“I wasn’t so sure I wanted to give it to you,” he shrugged. “You were sort of an asshole.”
Sirius watched him, something changing in him. Healing. “But you kept it. All this time.”
“I mean,” Regulus pursed his lips tightly. “I think of it less like an inheritance. More like reparations that they owed us. For therapy or vices or whatever other sort of darkness they planted in us.”
Sirius huffed, smile growing on his face, “I don’t think there is a sum that can quantify that damage.”
Regulus mirrored it, smaller and weaker, but smiling still. “I don’t think so either.”
Sirius looked at him like he wanted to lunge forward and hug him. Fingers flexing like he was restraining himself. “Reggie,” he sighed. “We’ve spent so long building narratives separate from each other. It sounds like we had two very different stories.”
“I think we did,” he nodded. “But… a common translator might have been what we needed to make us doubt what we believed. Make us take a closer look.” He looked over at James, the soft smile that was saved for him turning up at the corners again.
James squeezed his hand, brimming with an optimism that he imagined he would never come down from.
“You know, I came an awfully long way,” Sirius interrupted, looking between them. “Maybe I could stay for lunch.”
Regulus smiled, the navy in his eyes finally calm and bright. “I… I would like that,” he nodded.
“If it’s okay with Andy?” James interjected.
“Ahh, she’ll warm back up to me,” Sirius waved him away as he stood up, stretching out his back. “She always had a soft spot for the underdogs.”
“She’s all bark, no bite,” Regulus agreed, pulling at James’ hand. “Come on, then.”
James jumped up from his seat, trotting behind the brothers with an extra spring in his step.
—
The dining room with the windows that faced the garden wasn’t that awkward and tense air that it had been just two night ago when James had been unsure of his standings with Regulus, with Sirius, with Andy. Instead, it was now full of noise as he, Regulus, Sirius, Andy, and, intermittently, Ted and Dora visited over garden fresh nosh. Just as imagined, Andy didn’t mind. In fact, she quickly shifted to dotting on Sirius like he was one of her own, eagerly pushing seconds on him then batting his hands away when he made motions to start cleaning up.
James was surprised how quickly time flew, how lunch faded into afternoon in a blink. How the dining room became the parlor where the group sprawled on couches and chairs and never let a moment go quiet. He was surprised how much they laughed. Laughed like they were fever stricken and slightly mad. The brothers painted the landscape of their lives for each other. Sirius animatedly retelling the tale of how he met James through a slew of house parties and drunken misdeeds. How both of them had never quite fit into the Ivy League molds that had been cast for them, so they figured sticking together would be better. He talked about Remus and how he’d dragged the poor boy through two part-time campus jobs and a few nearly failed final exams before Sirius had the sense to realize he should properly court him the way he deserved.
Regulus himself shared stories too. Of the disaster that was the Black parents’ funerals and the wild cast of characters it attracted. Of the Malfoys and their extended witch hunt through the years, which with enough distance now, felt more like a villainous animated duo who he cleverly evaded each episode. Even some of the crazier stories from his former occupation, granted far less lewd than when he’d told James them.
At some point, when the dying sun was gold in the windows, a couple bottles of wine were procured and shared. More food arrived and the night fell along with inhibitions. Until it was Regulus’ hands manipulating Sirius’ ankles and feet, trying to get him to stand in perfect epaulé, which had Sirius groaning that one day Regulus would be thirty and know how it felt. Until the fireplace had a roaring fire and a record player spinning while James tried to spin Regulus, only stepping on his foot once, which was easy enough to blame on the wine. Until Andy and Ted were moving in slow practiced steps, apparently having taken a ballroom class when they first got together. Until Dora was riding on Sirius’ back while he pretended to be a bucking bronco, whiny neighs included.
But at some point, Andy had kissed Sirius’ forehead and whispered something in his ear that had made him smile before she and Ted and Dora retired. And soon after, the brothers and James finally went quiet. Laid out on opposite couches, Regulus curled into James’ side, head rested on his broad chest until his breaths went slow, steady, and he was asleep.
Sirius was laid out on his side, watching his brother peacefully rest. A shine in his eyes that wasn’t because of the wine.
James listened to the fire crackle, watching it illuminate Sirius’ face in its flicker. “What do you think?” he asked, softly, as to not wake Regulus.
Sirius took a deep breath, not pulling his eyes away. “I think today must have taken a lot out of him.”
“I think so,” James agreed. “What’s your excuse for still being up?”
He pressed his lips together, faintly shaking his head, “Maybe I’m too convinced it's a dream? That I’ll wake up in Seattle. Just as miserable as ever.”
“No,” James breathed. “It’s real, Sirius.”
The man’s face quivered, maybe a trick of the light. “It doesn’t feel secure. It feels like it might burst at any moment.”
“And maybe it will for a while,” James consoled. “But it’s progress. And it’s clear you both want this.”
Sirius looked to him, the words in his eyes before he even said them. “Thank you, James.”
“For what?”
“Being the catalyst.”
James felt suddenly shy, reluctant to admit it. He had felt mostly like a passive, happy bystander for most of the day. Lucky to witness something so beautiful, but hardly feeling like the reason for it. But he assumed, in some strange way, he was. “I didn’t mean to be,” he offered modestly.
“Still,” Sirius shrugged. “Thank you.” He shifted onto his back, looking up towards the ceiling as he stretched his legs toward the other end of the couch. “You know,” he said. “Watching you two together today. It’s… surreal.”
“Because we are so different. I know.”
“No, cause you two just…” he struggled to find the words. He looked back towards James, “How do you feel?”
James looked to Regulus on his chest, touching his soft hair, his face as gently as he could. Admiring the curve of his nose, his ridged brow. How even at rest, he carried a certain tension in contrast to his natural etherealness. He was lovely and thrilling to look at, even more so to hold. “Words can’t describe it. Words can’t describe him. He’s…” James sighed. “He’s exactly who I’ve been waiting for. Before I even knew I was waiting.”
“You seem certain.”
“Because I am,” James nodded, looking back towards the other couch. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone, Sirius.”
“Not even Lily?” he raised a brow, a knowing smirk pulling at his mouth like he already knew the answer.
James didn’t like that question. Didn’t even like thinking on it himself. “It’s different. Hard to compare,” he winced. “But yes, I think so.”
Sirius nodded, like he understood, but something in the way his eyes trailed off made it seem like he was still considering it. “I was watching you today. Watching how you look at each other in a quiet moment,” he reached down, fingertips lazily tracing against the pattern of the rug. “And something about it. I don’t know. It's like you two never existed without each other. Like I’m struggling to remember a time when it wasn’t you two together. It doesn’t make sense, but that’s how it feels”
James smiled, understanding. Because he too struggled to remember life without Regulus. As if he had always been there, even waiting in the wings for him.
“So,” Sirius sighed. “Just like you two couldn’t get together because of me, you can’t break up because of me. Cause I’m not picking sides. So you’re going to have to be together forever, you hear me?”
James looked down at Regulus again, brushing his thumb across his cheek. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I think we can do that.”
“I’m going to call it a night,” Sirius started to get up. “Sleep tight. And for the love of all things holy, don’t let Andy wake me up at the crack of dawn.”
“No promises,” James laughed softly. “She runs a tight ship.”
“Yeah, she sure does,” Sirius rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Good night, man,” he came over, ruffling James’ hair lazily. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Sirius touched Regulus’ head softly. “Night, baby brother,” he murmured.
James’ heart swelled with delight. He watched Sirius take his leave as he kept smoothing a hand down Regulus’ back. The room went quiet again except for the crackling fire. And it felt so warm and right that James tried his hardest to commit the feeling to memory. It was only then that Regulus stirred, rousing himself from his place on James’ chest.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” James smirked.
Regulus lunged forward and joined their mouths. Kissing him sweetly for a long moment before he pulled away, a vividness in his eyes that was contagious.
James laughed, realizing, “Oh god. How much of that did you hear?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he singsonged sarcastically as he kissed him again, smiling into it and letting them trail to his cheek, his ear.
James’ neck craned, accommodating him as he laughed, “You really are a pesky little brother.”
“Is this a promotion?” he teased. “From stepson to stepbrother.”
“No, no, no,” James cackled as he sat himself up until they were better facing each other on the couch. He looked at him, seeing the play of light and shadow from the fire. The smell of the wine on his breath. He held the moment like a breath in his chest. “What do you think?” he asked, trying not to get ahead of himself. “How do you feel?”
“Hm,” he hummed, thinking for a moment with a small upturn of his lips. “Hopeful?”
James smiled, feeling it radiate off him. Treasuring how his emotions were so vibrant when he let himself just feel them. He reached for his hand, letting their fingers tangle together, “It’s about time we started thinking about heading back.”
Regulus smiled, eyes glittering like scattered stars, “Where to first?”
“New York,” James nodded. “Get you moved back in. Get you settled.”
“And then?” he raised a brow.
“Seattle. So you can meet Remus, you can meet my friends. Finally.”
“Do you think they’ll like me?”
James huffed, “What’s not to like?”
Regulus bit down into his smile, looking at the way their hands brushed together. “And then?”
“Hm,” James hummed, starting to think out loud. “Split our time on either coast? Who knows? Maybe the organization has room to grow east. Open a new branch there.”
“I think it would flourish,” Regulus agreed. “But what about me? What will I do?”
“Anything you want,” James encouraged. “What do you want?”
His mouth twisted together in thought, perhaps feeling self-conscious about his next words. “I’d like to dance again.”
“Yeah?” James felt his smile grow. Thrilled at the very idea.
“Maybe… I don’t know,” he looked away shyly. “Maybe I could teach.”
“Teach who? Kids?”
“Kids, adults, anyone,” he shrugged. “I just think people need to dance more.”
James watched him, seeing the bubbling up of that dormant passion like it finally had room to breathe. Promising himself he would always encourage Regulus to do the things he loved without judgment, without restrictions. “Then maybe you’ll teach,” he agreed. “And we could wake up with each other and we could take walks together. We could get a cat.”
Regulus huffed, “As long as you clean the litter box.”
“I can do that,” he nodded. “And we could make dinner together. Vegetarian, of course. Fall asleep on the couch. Drag each other to bed. Tell each other that the best part of the day is going to sleep together and mean it.”
Regulus stared, letting the visual play out behind his glazed expression. Smile faltering slightly. “Do you think I’d deserve it?” he asked softly. “Letting you make me that happy?”
“Yeah, I do,” he maintained with complete earnestness. “Besides, you’d be earning it. By making me just as happy everyday.”
Regulus smiled, letting his head lean into the sofa shyly, “But what if I’m stupid again? Or you’re stupid again?”
“Then I’ll fight for it again. And ask you to do the same.”
“I did fight,” he pushed at his chest. “Don’t try to say I didn’t.”
James snorted, “How?”
“I came to Seattle. I-”
“Tried to laugh it off and jump into bed with me?” he raised his brows, mockingly.
Regulus rolled his eyes, “It was still fighting. Just… different.”
“Fine,” James laughed. “Well, now I know what your fighting looks like. I’ll spot it next time. I promise.”
Regulus watched him, smile all the way up to his eyes. “You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you, James Potter?”
“No,” he shook his head, reflecting the brightness of his smile in his own. “But I’m ready to let life lead us and to be content with wherever it goes. Because we’ll have each other until the end.”
Regulus tried to quell his smile, reaching and drawing him in to kiss him again. And in that kiss was all the confirmation that they were going to be okay. That they could preserve this feeling, tend to this warmth that made the both of them feel in ways they never had.
Regulus pulled back just enough to look at him, affection glowing bright in the depths of his navy eyes. “I love you, darling,” he whispered, fingers running up his chest, his neck.
James felt the ache in his chest, no longer empty and searching for something to fill it. Knowing he’d found it and he wasn’t going to let it go. “I love you, too.”