Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

James had always felt like he was born into the wrong tax bracket. A billionaire heir to a major cosmetics empire with the heart of an impoverished pauper. So it seemed only fitting that he had positioned himself as a vagrant within his own community of riches. Deciding to step down from his position at the company in order to focus on becoming a professional beggar for his non-profit. Their mission was to provide healthcare and resources to homeless youth and over the past five years, they had grown to their own offices, staff, and healthcare facility, becoming the largest non-profit on the West Coast. While a large chunk of that was made possible by James’ fortune, maintaining their thriving donor base had always been at the forefront of his attention.

The annual gala was hugely important for that. In a hotel ballroom, a dense variety of donors and stakeholders congregated in their best black tie for the largest fundraiser of the year. James had a love-hate relationship with the gala. While it was incredibly important for continuing the organization’s work, it was also the most socially exhausting night of the year, preying on his finite amount of charisma as he circled the room to offer himself up to whoever he could smooze with.

James was making small talk with the CEO of a local startup, reiterating the impacts the organization had within the past year. The statistics his team had drilled into his head for these very moments. Rich people were a difficult crowd. Not moved by much, not impressed by anything. James had learned through the years that he wasn’t like the wealthy people he’d been raised around. He had always felt a moral obligation to give back, to help the less fortunate. Folks like these were often so high above the reality of the average person’s daily life that they couldn’t possibly find empathy for those in need. James had learned that they needed to be caught in the most brief of moments, they needed to be force fed the right facts to make their wallets bend to his will.

“Over a third of the homeless population in this country is under the age of 24. And this makes them over twenty times more likely to experience sexual assault, struggle with mental health, and develop drug dependencies,” he stated passionately, his stare almost intimidatingly direct like just the right amount of pressure. “Our services have been able to reach over 40,000 youths in the past year alone. 10,000 of those we were able to settle in homes and jobs. This work continues to have relevance. Now more than ever, these youths need our help.”

“Yes, well,” the CEO widened her eyes. “I think you and this event have made that vividly clear tonight. I’m going to talk with our giving team about how we can best support your mission.”

James felt the stretch of a charismatic smile across his face. “Thank you so much,” he nodded his head, extending a hand as if to shake on her promise. “It was lovely talking to you.”

When she had walked off, James was left alone for only a moment, before Marlene was bombarding him with papers in hand.

“James,” his assistant heaved like she was rushing. “I have that final script for you. I got the last of the board to approve of those edits you made. Oh, and I think I just spotted the LeStrange’s, that wacky family that is big in the art sector. I have a docket for them.” She started flipping furiously through her folder.

He put a hand to her shoulder. “Hey,” he breathed, under the chatter of the crowd. “Relax. I haven’t even given my speech yet and we already surpassed our goal.” He inclined his head to the screen at the front of the ballroom that was going up in real time with donations. “So I’m going to take this,” he eased the script from her hands, eyeing a passing server with a tray full of drinks. He took a glass of champagne, offering it towards her, “And you are going to take this.”

Her shoulders fell, “I swear to God, James, how do you keep such a level head with this stuff? I feel like a chicken with my head cut off most of the time.”

“You need to break up that corporate mindset of yours, Marlene,” he smiled, eyeing the script. “We are trying to improve the lives of kids across the country. Therefore, we aren’t in competition with anyone but ourselves.” He looked over, noticing half the champagne was already missing. “I’m going to go take this to the balcony,” he said, lifting the paper in his hand. “Could you come grab me when it is time to speak?”

“Mhm,” she said, the glass obstructing her voice as she took another generous chug.

James stood on the balcony, reading over the script under his breath to try and commit to memory the proper pauses, the unfamiliar names. He lifted his eyes to the skyline that stretched out in front of him. The skyscrapers of downtown in the foreground, but just beyond them lay slivers of the Sound. It’s denim blue water tinted greener in the golden light of sunset that was cast just over the silhouette of the snow tipped mountains. James had only lived in Seattle for the past five years, after his friends and him graduated from school and decided to follow each other across the country. But even after years, the views still took his breath away.

He heard a soft little sound that pulled his attention away. Made his ears perk like a rabbit in the forest as he stilled, turning his head slowly towards it. He heard it again, getting nearly lost in the wind. A moan. He crossed the balcony, looking over the left edge, down the length of the hotel building's many floors, its protruding balconies.

His eyes scanned them, before hearing it again, louder. His gaze fell on a balcony that was diagonal from him. Just close enough that he didn’t have to squint to see its occupants. The plane of fair skin that glimmered in the dying light, stretched out as a man stood with his hands against the banister. He had dark curls that he was messily combing to the side with his fingers as he looked over his shoulder. Behind him stood a muscular man, his hands on the man’s hips as he thrusted deep into him, pulling another sweet whine from the curly haired man.

James felt his cheeks go warm at the sight, horrified by his own voyeurism as he struggled to look away. His own hands went tight on the banister as he kept watching. The thrusts of the man getting more intent, quicker, but James’ eyes wouldn’t leave the fair-skinned one. His lithe frame, ribs taught against his skin as he threw his head back. He couldn’t make out his face from a distance, but there was enough there to suggest how good-looking he was. A certain set in his narrow shoulders that felt refined, regal.

He heard the sounds in the man’s throat going weaker, higher like he was close to the edge. James leaned closer, feeling the thrum of his pulse run excited by the thought.

“James,” someone called from behind him.

He spun in a flash, that heat in his face doubling as he stared wide eyed at Marlene in the doorway.

“It’s time,” she told him, but her gaze went concerned, traveling down his face. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, smoothing down his hair. He fidgeted with the script in his hand as he followed her in, trying to scrub the memory of what he’d seen from his head. They went up to the stage at the front of the room, a podium standing solitarily. Waiting for him. He felt the nerves of the speech mix with his shamefulness, conjuring an unsettling emotion in him that was too difficult to place.

“Good evening,” he said at the start of the speech, watching the room settle and come closer towards him. He got started, introducing himself, the event. Starting to discuss the past year in retrospect. He felt the engagement of the attendees, making it easier to go on. Eyes skimming down his script as he read.

But when he raised his eyes, he couldn’t help but attach onto a face in the crowd. Freckles across a nose bridge, bright green eyes, a mane of gorgeous vibrant red curls. Even from a distance, James felt like he could smell her. Honeysuckle and jasmine. So sweet and fresh like she had always been. Even when screaming at him, sobbing against his chest, even when signing divorce papers. A visible shake in her hand.

He felt warmer under the collar of his suit, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady on the words at the end of the script. He finished the speech to energetic applause, before stepping down, handing off his script to Marlene, and cutting through the crowd. His objective was set, needing to be close to her if only to indulge his compulsive need to know things were okay between them, especially after parting on such bad terms. Even if something inside of him screamed for him to stop, knowing these chance encounters always seemed to knock him back months in progress.

He quieted those concerns as he came up alongside her. She was wearing a gorgeous emerald silk dress that hugged the shapely contours of her petite frame. He tapped her shoulder, watching her turn to meet his eyes. Her beaming smile filled her whole face.

“James,” she gasped, throwing herself into his arms to embrace him tightly.

“Hey, you,” he laughed, leaning into the cushion of her hair and deeply inhaling. There it was. That scent just the same, down to the way it calmed every frayed nerve.

She pulled back, smiling up into his face, “Lovely speech you gave. Lovely event this year. Truly.”

“Thank you,” he nodded. “Though I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Then, maybe you forgot that my hospital is still one of your top donors,” she smirked.

He bit his tongue, punishing his own forgetfulness. “Of course,” he nodded. “Of which we are incredibly grateful for.”

“It’s an amazing cause. We are happy to do what we can to support it.”

James felt the sincerity of her words, letting them sink beneath the cover of his guardedness. Forgetting just how good her praise felt. How she had that air about her that could fill a room with love. He had always admired that, tried to mimic it with irregular success.

“Actually, while you’re here,” her eyes brightened. “I wanted you to meet Mary.” She pulled a woman to her side. “Mary, this is James.”

His eyes skated over her. She was beautiful, nearly as tall as him with dark skin that reflected the light at the high points of her sculpted cheekbones. She was wearing a lovely shade of magenta in her elegantly tailored suit that complimented Lily perfectly. James had heard of her before. Whisperings from mutual friends that Lily was seeing someone else. He could barely remember how long ago that started. Had it been two years already? How had time escaped him?

Mary’s smile stretched wide, but there was something hidden behind it. Something less than genuine. “Pleasure,” she murmured, passively.

“Can I run to the bar for you, honey?” Lily asked her.

“Sure,” the woman nodded. She leaned in, planting a slow kiss on her cheek and murmuring in her ear. “You know what I like.”

James felt a tint of jealousy that he no longer had the luxury of harboring. Afterall, Lily hadn’t been his for years. And most days, he was at peace with that. This wasn’t most days.

Lily smiled dreamily like a lovestruck teenager. James would know, he’d been on the receiving end of that same look when they were nothing but lovestruck teenagers. She took off, weaving her way through the crowd and leaving James and Mary in an awkward silence. The babble of the folks around them falling quieter as if the two of them were in their own little bubble. Waiting to see who would pop it.

“So, you’re the ex husband?” Mary said, sizing him up with an intimidating sweep of her dark eyes. “The dirtbag sex addict.”

James’ face contorted, taken aback by her forwardness. “Oh. Is that how she painted me?” he murmured, hiding the words behind the drink in his hand. Trying not to let himself sound wounded, though he was.

“She’s far too kind to use those words,” Mary said, smugly. “I’m not.”

“Well, whatever she told you, it wasn’t like that.”

“You told her she couldn’t satisfy you. That she never had and she never would,” Mary crossed her arms over her chest, tone growing sharper with each word. “Can you even begin to understand the impact of what you did to her? Of how you treated her?”

James felt the reminder of his words like a stab in the chest, bleeding empathy that wouldn’t clot no matter how much time had passed. Regrets that had laid low suddenly roared back to life, filling his head with hopelessness. “I told her a lot of things I didn’t mean,” he said earnestly. “I’ve apologized. She’s forgiven me.”

“Well, I haven’t,” Mary gritted between her teeth.

James took her in with a long glance, feeling exasperated by the whole conversation. It wore on his nerves, preyed on his memories. Conjured feelings he had been pushing down for over three years. With intentional effort, he pushed them down again. “I’m not your enemy, Mary,” he told her with a slight shake of his head. “And I think it’s a mistake to reduce what was a complicated situation down between two adults to…to simply-”

“Simply what?” she baited him.

“Sex!” he forced out, a little too loudly. Noticing the turn of a few heads just beyond Mary’s shoulders. He sighed, flustered and embarrassed as he cursed under his own breath.

The woman’s eyebrow tilted upward, a smug little grin on her face like it somehow proved her point.

Lily slipped back between them, two glasses in her hand and a smile on her face. “What are you two on about?”

“Nothing,” James breathed, downing the rest of his glass.

“James was just telling me about the organization,” Mary offered, accepting the drink from Lily’s hand.

“Of course,” she nodded, reaching forward to put a hand to James’ shoulder. “Brilliant work on the event, James. Truly. Every year this gala keeps getting bigger. A massive accomplishment. Worth celebrating.”

James’ eyes flicked to Mary, seeing the slight bristle of her shoulders at the contact between them. “Thank you, Lily. Your support means the world,” he leaned in, tilting a kiss to her cheek like it was the most familiar thing in the world. Because perhaps after years of being divorced, it was still easy to slip into old habits. For better or for worse and all that. “I’m going to keep making the rounds, but it was a pleasure meeting you, Mary,” he forced a fake show of teeth towards her, before looking down to point a more sincere smile to his ex-wife. “And good to see you, honey.”

He could only take so much delight in Mary’s scowl as he walked away.

He didn’t last much longer at the party. Trying to engage with the donors and members, but feeling his own charisma slipping away from him as his mind kept going to darker places. He kept his eye on Lily and Mary across the room, but their presence was springing forward thoughts of screaming arguments in the middle of the night, drunken stutters and broken glass, a box full of her things, a lawyer on his doorstep. Reliving them like nightmares as he tried to stay present, but it was an impossible task.

He said his quick goodbyes to the staff, shying away from Marlene’s concerned expression before calling his driver to bring him home. He’d known Peter for years, ever since he moved to Seattle and found himself too busy to make the short commute between downtown and his home. Since then, Peter had become more than just a driver, but a friend.

“Rough night, Jim?” he asked, tilting his gaze up in the rearview mirror.

James became conscious of his expression. The downturn of his mouth, the absent look he had as he watched the skyscrapers of downtown melt into the smaller buildings of the other neighborhoods. “Is it obvious?”

Peter shrugged noncommittally, making a turn. “Sounds like the event was well received,” he offered optimistically. “You made all your goals and then some!”

“Mm,” James hummed looking out the window. The event was the farthest thing from his mind now.

Peter’s gaze stayed on him for a moment longer, reading the air as he had become quite good at doing. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts, Jim,” he said, not speaking again for the duration of the trip.

When James came in the door, disabling the security system, he shucked off his shoes with heavy feet, his jacket with rolled shoulders. Casting off his tie and undoing the top buttons of his shirt as he tossed his effects to the tray by the door. He didn’t turn the lights on in his home, following the view of the panoramic windows in his living room. He could see downtown illuminated in the background, past the view of expansive Lake Union that was reflecting the night sky, glimmering like black ink. The view is what had sold Lily on the house. The plethora of wealthy neighbors in the vicinity sold James, wanting to leverage their pocketbooks for the organization.

He went straight to his room, removing the rest of his clothes until he was in nothing but his underwear. He knew he should have showered, but he didn’t have it in him. Instead, he crawled up into his large bed, feeling just how cold the sheets were with no one to warm them. He lay there in the dark for a long time, replaying Mary’s words. They shot through him like arrows he couldn’t pull out.

Dirtbag sex addict, he recalled with a sigh. Knowing that it had been an exaggeration of the truth. Sure, sex had played a part in the split, but it was hardly the foremost conflict. A symptom, not an illness. But at the time, it had been the easiest thing to blame. And James regretted that deeply, it filled him with shame that wouldn’t wash away.

Lingering on a spectrum between self-deprecating and self-destructive, he reached for his phone in the sheets, letting it illuminate his face in the dark as he pulled up his most frequented hook-up app. He started to scroll through the images, noting the distance they were from him. He recognized a few of them, past hook-ups that he had needed to passively bury himself into because he had no one else there to accept him. People who had no intention of asking for more than just sex, which was what he needed. He had proved his inability to properly care for another person with Lily, his heart wasn’t a safe place to be. He wouldn’t be cruel enough to do that to anyone else again.

He pulled himself from those thoughts as his eyes fell to a square on his screen. He clicked it, opening up the profile. The photo that caught his eye magnified. A smooth plain of perfectly silky fair skin, a dark head of curls, the muscle and bone articulated under the surface. His face turned away, though not unimportant as the faint trace of his profile looked nothing short of lovely. James’ mind flashed back to the balcony of the hotel. To that lithe boy getting his back blown out. Thinking absentmindedly that he would have liked to stay and watch a little longer. Would have liked to imagine himself gripping those tight hips, staring at the crinkle of two sharp shoulder blades as he fell apart.

He knew there was no way that the man from the balcony could possibly be the same one he was looking at now. Afterall, there was hardly enough evidence. His features weren’t unique enough to prove damning. But still, James scrolled down the profile, curiosity piquing.

Seeker. 28. NYC based.
Send me something nice and maybe I’ll reply.

Below that was simply a username for a money transfer service, implying that ‘something nice’ wasn’t exactly just a compliment. James’ eyebrow raised, knowing it was stupid. Likely some catfishing scam. But in the pits of his own despair, he just needed to busy his mind. And this was just the right amount of absurd to do the trick.

He swiped to the app, plugging in $50 and a memo. Enough to pique your interest? he offered, leaving his username as well. He sent it off, swiping back to stare at that picture again. Admiring the sculpted definition of his back, the dimples that sat imprinted just above his bare ass that was just out of shot. He felt desire stir low in his stomach.

His chat inbox flashed with a new notification, causing James to sit up quickly in bed. He hadn’t expected something so instantaneous. He clicked over to it, wondering why he suddenly felt nervous.

$50? I don’t get out of bed for less than $300.

James felt one side of his smile pull up, huffing just under his breath as he typed.

You wouldn’t have to get out of bed for me.

He could see the ellipses hover for a moment.

Nice try. Pay up or get blocked.

James scoffed at the man’s insolence, fingers animatedly moving across the keys.

Are you serious?

Deadly. Come on, boss. Show me how much you want me.

James shouldn’t have felt the words course through his whole body, after all they were just empty, faceless words. But he couldn’t help but hear them in his ears, sharp and witty and petty in a way that should have been off putting but it wasn’t. Only more enticing.

It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money.

He swiped back to the payment app, loading in $500 dollars before sending it off with no memo needed. He only had to wait another moment for a reply.

Hm. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot.

James smirked, biting down on it as he typed.

I can be persuasive.

I can see that. What’s your name?

James.

Hello, James. You can call me Seeker.

What are you seeking?

I don't know. What are you Jamesing?

James gave a snort. Alright, Seeker it is.

Tell me, James. Why did I catch your eye tonight?

He momentarily wondered if he should lie. Say it was solely the man’s photo that caught him, but that wasn’t necessarily true. And the situation was ridiculous enough that he didn’t feel the need to politely withhold.

I saw someone who looked like you. He was getting his brains fucked out on a hotel balcony in downtown Seattle. Any chance it was you?

Mmmm. Sadly no, though that sounds delightful. Creepy old man, did you watch?

A little, he confessed, feeling lewd for even admitting to it. It was hotter than it should have been. And I’m not even old. I’m only 30.

So am I supposed to believe the jacked, tanned man in your photos is you? I’m not an ameteur, James.

The thing was, it was James in his photos. Sure, his face had been cropped to preserve his privacy. He was rather high profile after all, sole heir to a major cosmetics empire and all that. But then again, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that half the people on this god forsaken app used whatever muscled photo they could steal off the internet.

I could send you a pic of me now and you’ll see I’m not lying.

To be honest, what you look like is hardly relevant. You were the one who reached out to me. Meaning you have some sort of desire you’d like me to sate, right?

James felt heat crawl up into his face, up his ears and neck. The nerves rushing back in as he started to type. Deleting what he wrote about five times before settling.

I can’t sleep. Can’t turn my brain off.

Is that all? Someone needs a lullaby?

The next message wasn’t text, it was an audio clip. James hesitantly clicked play. The phone emanated with the sound of hushed, tender whimpers. James could imagine them through gritted teeth, the sound of the crumpling sheets, the faint vibration of some toy in the background. It made every muscle in his body pull taut.

He reached down beneath the sheets, sliding a hand into his boxers as he felt his cock twitch awake. Blood rushing away from his head and carrying with it all his stupid, guilt-ridden thoughts. He started stroking himself, listening to the audio play out. Seeker’s whimpers blossoming into soft moans, gaining more weight and volume as they went on.

James closed his eyes, thinking about Seeker’s photo. His sculpted body and how badly he wanted to see it crumble. How good it would look painted with his seed. He let those thoughts carry him down a rushing river of euphoria, rapids of pleasure cascading over him. And as Seeker’s moans went howlingly loud, desperate and needy and on the edge, they pushed both of them over the waterfall.

James’ climax hit him harder than any from the recent past, feet cramping and pulse thrumming as his chest rose and fell. Watching the glistening come slip across his tawny brown skin. His mind reeled, nearly dizzy. Dazed and dull in the aftermath.

Nearly like clockwork, his phone illuminated with another notification.

How’s that for a lullaby?

James smiled, a laugh pulled from his chest. He wiped his hand clean, reaching for the phone.

You’ve done it. You made me jerk myself into a drunken stupor.

Excellent. Get some rest. Good night, James.

He could feel the stupid smile on his face. He hurried to text back.

Wait. Can I message you tomorrow?

The ellipses flashed for only a moment.

After you pay me.

James felt that same bubbling curiosity in the low of his stomach.

I can do that.

Chapter Text

It would have been pretty desperate for James to wake up, roll over, and grab his phone as soon as his body released him from a vice grip of sleep and yet, that was exactly what he did. Queuing up $600 alongside a Good morning, Seeker.

He proceeded to get up, hopping into the shower to wash away the dried streaks on his stomach while balancing the phone on the ledge next to his shampoo. Leering at it, trying to will the screen to come alive with a notification. There was a subconscious pep in his step, a hum in his chest that he carried with him as he started to get ready to go to the gym. Feeling a swell of energy that he couldn’t contain and needed to be expelled one way or another. He was grabbing his keys and heading out the door when his phone finally went off.

Good morning to you too, darling. Back for seconds so soon?

James padded down his driveway, walking down his street towards the gym a few blocks away. A smile stretched across his face as he started to type out his response.

What can I say? You left an impression.

Sounds like me. What are you up to?

Heading to the gym.

Oh brother. Don’t lie to try and impress me.

James laughed. Couldn’t lie to you if I tried. What about you?

We don’t ask about me.

Why not?

You aren’t paying to talk about me.

James switched apps as he walked, briefly nodding at a neighbor walking their poodle. He loaded another hundred dollars to Seeker, sending it off with a memo; What if I am?

There was a hesitation in the messages, wavering ellipses flashing before it finally sent. Being in my line of work forces me to maintain firm boundaries. Afterall, trust doesn’t have a dollar amount.

James understood, he really did. He wasn’t so disconnected from reality to not see that Seeker was in a more vulnerable position than himself. But that still didn’t ease the overwhelming curiosity, the desire to know everything about him. Wanting to be that person who was closer than anyone else could come.

I’ll have you know, Seeker, that I am exceptionally trustworthy. My friends call me an iron fortress of secrecy.

Then be patient enough to prove it.

It struck more seriously than Seeker’s typical quips. Perhaps the first time that the illusive man had asked for something in return. Patience, reliability, loyalty. Perhaps those traits were in short supply for his usual clientele. Though James knew they were well within his wheelhouse. The phone chimed again.

All you need to know is that I’m going to be away from my phone for most of today. So don’t expect me to be waiting with bated breath for your next message.

He felt the smallest sink of his spirit. He had perhaps foolishly imagined his whole day spent messaging Seeker. To know that he’d be without him for even a few hours felt surprisingly devastating. Made the prognosis of his day look all the more dreary despite clear May skies over Seattle. He tried to look at the brighter side.

Hm. Sounds like I’ll need something to remember you by.

Is your attention span that short?

James smirked. Nothing about me is short.

I walked right into that one. Here.

After a few beats of nothing, James’ screen lit up with three pictures. His feet came to a stop on the sidewalk, water bottle hanging forgotten in one hand as he started to scroll through the images. They were of Seeker’s svelte frame. The first one he was wearing a white ribbed tank. It had been cut, shredded at the bottom just above his navel. Exposing the skin that stretched into his low rise jeans. The soft looking pallor that sat just north of his waistband, so silky smooth that James wanted to run his knuckles over it.

“Hello, Mr. Potter,” shouted a voice from across the street.

James pulled his gaze away, trying to blink the image out of his eyes as he looked up towards the house. Minerva was sitting on her porch, her pet cat weaving between her legs. She was a regular donor for the organization, a retired professor with a best selling textbook. “Morning, Minerva,” he smiled. “Didn’t see you at the gala last night.”

“I don’t bother with social events anymore,” her face scrunched. “It is all those tech worshippers who are taking over this city and draining it of its character with their horrific taste in architecture.”

James smiled, a laugh under his breath. “You’re not wrong.”

“Why are you stopped in the middle of Albus’ driveway?”

James looked up to the house he was standing in front of. Not having realized he stopped. “Just admiring his Mediterranean Spurge,” he called, pointing to the bushes of blooming green flowers that looked otherworldly.

“Enjoy them while you can before summer dries them up,” she commanded, before turning to go back inside. “Have a good day, James.”

He knew he had two more photos to skim through, “I’m certain I will.”

He continued walking, trying to keep pace as his eyes found the second photo. It was taken from behind. Seeker leaning over a bathroom counter to stare at himself in the mirror in only a pair of loose fitting slacks that were visibly open in the front. Shimmied down his askew hips low enough to see those dimples imprinted. He was tracing a tube of soft pink lipstick around the bow of his mouth. Showing more of his face than James had ever seen, but it was still cut off above the softened curve of his upper lip. James couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered though, instead grateful that he even had a mouth to imagine now. Immediately having some ideas about what he would do with it.

The third picture was the most lewd of them all. Seeker sitting stark naked on a bed. His legs crossed and strategically positioned in such a way that his feet were just covering his cock. But James could still see the shadow there that insinuated enough to have him thrumming, eyes painting over the finer details. The scuff of a knee, the highlight of his collarbone, the perfect pink of his nipple. He could see the way his dark hair curled around his ears, cascading down his neck just short of his highly drawn shoulders. James’ mouth was watering, pulse awakening even without the need for cardio.

How’s that? read a message just under the photos.

James smiled so hard his face hurt. Perfect, he typed. You’re perfect.

I thought you’d think so.

James’ lip twisted behind his teeth, typing with more urgency now. Will you message me when you get your phone back?

Maybe. If I’m bored enough.

James sent another $200. I think you will be.

Looking forward to it. Enjoy your workout, James.

Everything in him felt heavy and light at the same time, like walking on the moon. In a dreamlike daze as reality faded around him. Dragging himself another block to the gym before he was heading straight for the locker room and slipping into the empty showers. Letting the water run as he stood off to the side, one hand clutching his phone and the other tight around his cock as he bit down on his gasps. Imagining the feel of that skin, those harsh angles, the soft curls in his fingers. He wanted it, he wanted him, more than he could stand to contain until he was trembling on his weak legs, washing the cum off his hands and trying to clear his mind before continuing on with his workout.

It continued like that into the week. James would send a few hundred over and wait impatiently for Seeker’s reply. For the man’s clever quips to fill his head again, the sound of his voice was like something so close yet out of reach. And he had developed quite a gallery of photos by now. A mix of artistic, professionally shot nudes alongside more candid mirror selfies that obstructed his face.

James had spent hours memorizing the contours of his body. The curve of his jaw as it faded into his long neck, the graceful bend of his hip bones under the skin where James would give a kidney to trace his tongue. His mental image of the man becoming clearer with each added bit of information. So mesmerized by the very idea of the man, a juxtaposition of precious gentleness alongside razor sharp edges. Even the post-come clarity couldn’t dispel the spell James was under.

It was another weekday at the office. And though the gala was behind them, new objectives laid ahead in putting the hard-earned donations to good work. It was mid-afternoon, after a few hours of gruelingly slow meetings, before James was finally able to have a moment alone in his office. It was unsurprising when Seeker was the first thing that sprang to his mind.

He sent over a few hundred, typing in the memo. Bored at work.

Hm. Work, you say? Seeker’s new message read. What do you do?

James momentarily wondered if he should lie, but Seeker already had his name, his location. There was little point in leveraging anonymity now.

I run a non-profit. We help homeless youths across the country.

Didn’t picture you as the Mother Teresa type.

More like a Bill Gates. But younger. Sexier, he smirked as he typed.

Right, Seattle and all. No wonder you’re bored. Stuck in some clinically lit office. The enrapturing company of a few dozen sweaty middle aged men thinking with their wallets… Hm. Actually, perhaps our jobs aren’t too unalike.

James laughed out loud. You’re funny, Seeker.

I know.

James waited for another message, feeling a bit gutted when nothing came. It doesn’t impress you? Even just a little? My job? My money?

You think you are the only client I have with a job. How else could anyone afford me?

I’m fairly high profile. You could probably Google me. Find my handsome face. I did a TedTalk once.

And you’re modest to boot.

James scoffed, feeling silly now. Embarrassed for trying to brag.

No, darling, Seeker followed up. I don’t need to Google you to know you are hardly the most high profile person in my wallet right now.

James felt himself burn with a sharp twinge of jealousy, wires crossing in his head until it read as something entirely different. He swiped away, dropping $1,000 into Seeker’s account.

That’s better, the man texted just a moment later. Here’s your reward, Mr. High Profile.

James' breath stuttered in his chest when he watched a video pop into their messages. He looked up from his desk, seeing the door to the offices in front of him. He carefully put his phone down, going to the door. He leaned his head out to where Marlene’s desk was sitting out in the pen of lower ranked employees.

“Hey,” he snapped his fingers, getting her attention. “I’m taking a phone call. Make sure I’m not disturbed.”

Her face contorted. “With who?”

He sighed, “None of your business, McKinnon. Just don’t let anyone come in till I’m done.” He ignored her puzzled expression and he closed the door again, making sure the blinds were closed, the lock turned, before he went to sit back at his desk. He put in a pair of headphones, checking three times to make sure they were properly connected. He stared empty headed at the video for a long pause before pressing play.

It was hardly as artistic as some of the photos Seeker had sent. The phone camera had been propped up somewhere on the floor, lens centered on the man’s long slim legs, in that similar crossed position that James had seen in a previous photo, obscuring parts of him that James was desperate to see. He watched as his hand was obstructed too, watching the motion of his forearm and knowing exactly what he was doing. Hearing the softened sounds falling from his open mouth that was just barely in view.

James watched enraptured, heart pounding steady in his chest as he slowly palmed himself over his jeans. Another moan and he was unzipping them, stroking himself in time with the man. His ears going warm, his eyes intently focused on that obscured space he couldn’t see. Nearly more enticing in his imagination.

He didn’t expect it when it happened. The weak, throaty word in Seeker’s mouth. Rolling around like it tasted good.

“James,” the man panted.

James felt the earth fall out from under him, face falling as his hand went twice as fast. The burn in his ears trailing down his neck, into his chest, constricting until it was hard to breathe. Like even the sound of himself breathing would dare interfere with him hearing that again.

“Fuck,” the man’s shoulders caved. “Fuck, James.”

He bit down on his tongue, to keep his own sounds from slipping out as he choked around his breaths. Watching every muscle in the man’s chest tighten, his toes curl, his shoulders shake as he let out a definitive sound. And James’ attention so immersed in the screen that he could see the pearls of cum dripping down the man’s tautly pulled torso. He wanted to scream, to bang his head against the desk, but instead he just covered his mouth with his hand as he nearly wept through his own silent climax.

And even the comedown, sitting back in his chair and looking at the mess he’d made of himself, all James could feel was the compulsion to watch it again.

Friday night meant one thing. One piece of consistency in James’ life that didn’t exist in an office or a gym. Dinner at Sirius and Remus’ place. The three had been friends since early college when they were all Ivy League troublemakers with a distaste for the academic culture of emphatic pretentiousness.

Sirius, himself, had come from a rich dynasty much like James. But instead of finding new ways to redefine his affluence, he had abandoned his claim to his family’s wealth in his third year of college as a final “fuck you” to the system in a move that was so brutally, unbearly him. Sure, he’d been left to fend for himself in whatever meager, minimum wage job he could squander, but it had been worth it for him to not live and die by a legacy that he couldn’t align himself with any longer.

Remus was the polar opposite, growing up in a rural town with little but two pennies to rub together until he got his full-ride scholarship to the college. He had always been the level headed one between the three of them, quiet and calculating, but incredibly self-sacrificing. Like when he took jobs up alongside Sirius just so he wouldn’t be alone. Which in retrospect probably had an ulterior motive as three months into making coffee alongside each other, the two were caught in a compromising position in the backroom by their boss. Good thing they were hired in the university library shortly after, it was a lot easier for them to get away with much more there.

Tonight, it had been Sirius’ turn to prepare the meal which meant there was a fifty-fifty shot it would be inedible and eventually, after a gentle let down from Remus, lead to ordering something in. Afterall, it had only been eight years ago that Sirius had a family chef preparing three square meals a day. This time, it seemed like he chose some sort of pasta dish which, admittedly, looked worse than it tasted. Though James couldn’t help but navigate around the olives, pushing them into a small pile at the corner of his plate.

“No grading papers at the table,” Sirius reminded his husband, watching the man roll his eyes and shuffle together a stack of essays from one of the social work classes he taught at the state university.

“How are classes going, Remus?” James asked, taking a sip of his wine. “Quarter is almost done.”

“Indeed,” he nodded, picking his fork back up and starting to eat again. “Their senior internships are just wrapping up with the shelters in Pioneer Square. I hate to see the offices fall short of staff again.”

“Try not to feel too bad. Summer is their slower season,” James tried to ease that remorse, knowing it far too well in his similar line of work. “I myself can barely bring myself to poach from their staff anymore. Though to be fair, that was how I found McKinnon and I probably would die without her.”

“Can we leave work off the table?” Sirius sighed exasperated.

James shot a look at Remus, eyebrow raising in question.

“Things are getting a bit… morally dicey at his offices,” Remus said low under his breath.

Sirius shot him a look as if to shut him up.

“How so?” James leaned in, curiosity getting the better of him.

Sirius looked up, looking caught. “There are some ethical concerns,” he explained in few words. “Around some data collection stuff for the social media platform. Talks of selling user data to third-parties. You know, the usual twenty-first century privacy debate that us researchers don’t want anything to do with.”

“Well, you are in user research,” James furrowed his brow. “Doesn’t that mean you have allegiance to the user, not the platform.”

“Yes, but the platform pays my checks,” Sirius smiled pointedly.

James scoffed, “That should hardly matter.”

“Maybe not to you,” Sirius’ eyes drifted away, sizing up his wine glass like it was his last salvation. “But we don’t all have inheritances to fall back on James.”

It wasn’t meant to have sharp edges. They knew each other well enough to make those jabs feel harmless, but it didn’t mean James wouldn’t rise to challenge it. “Isn’t morality exactly why you didn’t take your inheritance?” he argued. “Because you couldn’t stand alongside your family’s ‘capitalistc corruption’ or however you worded it?”

“Enough. Leave the guilt trip to my brother,” Sirius bemoaned. “He’s far better at it than you.”

James’ face screwed, sitting back in his chair. “Since when do you have a brother?”

The man’s blue eyes went momentarily wide, like perhaps he hadn’t meant to say it. “It’s irrelevant information,” he dismissed with a forced wave of his hand.

“We’ve been friends for a decade,” James shot back. “How is that irrelevant?”

“Him and I aren’t close,” he explained briefly, like it was enough reasoning.

“Why not?”

Sirius glared at him, more sharply now. “Like I said, irrelevant information.”

James’ eyes shot to Remus, looking for an ally. But the man just subtly shook his head, like it wasn’t worth pressing his husband on. James sunk back in his chair, conceding.

“So,” Sirius picked the conversation back up, feigning cheeriness in a thinly veiled attempt to distract. “What else is new with you?”

James’ tongue worked into his cheek. I’m paying a man on the other side of the country to taunt me till I come, he said in his head, keeping it sealed just beyond his lips. “I saw Lily the other night,” he decided on instead. Feeling it immediately darken his mood as he remembered. “She was with Mary.”

“Fuck,” Remus cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, James. That couldn’t have been easy.” His eyes wore his empathy plainly. He’d always been good at that, feeling others’ pain. A product of his work likely.

“It’s fine,” he shook his head, though it clearly wasn’t. He fidgeted with the twines of his fork. “Mary was a total cunt to me. No idea why someone as lovely as Lily would be shacking up with such a bitch.

“James,” Sirius tsked his tongue behind his teeth. “I’m sure she was fine.”

“She called me a ‘dirtbag sex addict’,” he snorted. “It was bold, I’ll give her that.”

Remus and Sirius shared a glance that didn’t go unnoticed. Remus cleared his throat, “She’s protective. Much like someone else we know. And she’s loyal. That’s what Lily admires in both of you.”

James let the words burn through him, not wanting to align anything in himself with Mary even if perhaps it was true. “Wait,” he blinked, looking up at them. “How would you know?”

The silence that stretched across the table spoke volumes.

James accidentally dropped the fork in a clatter. “You are hanging out with them?” he questioned, completely taken aback.

Sirius’ eyes were wide, softening with guilt. “We thought it went without saying,” he shrugged. “We are her friends too, you know. We spent years together in college, after that too. We all moved here together.”

“And then she broke up with your best friend,” he accused. “And now you’re double dating with her and her new partner?”

“This isn’t high school, James,” Remus reasoned. “You don’t get to draw a line in the sand when you get a divorce.”

“What do you guys do?” James scoffed. “Mini-golf? Bowling league?”

“Oh God,” Remus rolled his eyes.

“They took us on a day trip to the San Juan Islands,” he said behind his wine glass. Seemingly tired of hiding anything. “They own a boat. It was lovely.”

James stared at them, baffled. “Well how fucking wonderful for them,” he scooted back his chair, rising to his feet as he began to pace the dining room. “I can’t believe you two. It hasn’t even been long.”

“It’s been three years,” Sirius reminded him.

“Whatever,” James gritted through his teeth. “Why am I even here? Why aren’t you with your best friends, Lily and Mary? I’m sure Mary makes a mean tiramisu.”

“God damn it,” Remus sighed. “James. This is childish. Let it go.”

He straightened up, taking them both in with a glance. Feeling his face burn red with annoyance. He tried to bring words to his mouth, but all the ones he could form were laced with poison and more immaturity. He was at least smart enough to withhold them, instead turning on his heel and leaving.

James felt his blood run hot all the way home. And when he got into his house, he flung his things with an enraged hostility. Getting slight satisfaction from the way they clattered and banged, reverberating off the walls. His hands combed through his hair, breaths running wild in his chest as he tossed his glasses to the side. He paced his living room, thoughts too quick as he felt the hopelessness sink in. Dangerously wondering why his friends even aligned themselves with him at all. It was obviously him who had fucked it all up, ruined something good. He deserved the scorn that Mary had shown him. At least she had been direct with hers, not hiding it like he assumed Sirius and Remus were doing.

It was a slippery slope that just dragged him deeper into his guilt and self-hatred. He went to his room, needing a shower to cool off, but some part of him didn’t want to. Something in him felt validated by his own agony, needing to hurt out loud just to prove that it was real. Perhaps that was why he’d done the things he did to Lily, perhaps he just needed to prove that he hurt too. But obviously, it had backfired. Made him have to line up apologies that he was still having to make, and did little to give credit to his own feelings during that time. Afterall, he was the villain of the story. Why would he have deserved anyone’s empathy?

The thoughts spiraled until he was crawling up into bed, tossing his phone to the side momentarily before his eyes went to it again. Remembering who was on the other side of that phone, who could make him feel better. Or at the least, make him forget for a short time.

He swiped open the payment app, fingers hovering over the keyboard for a long moment as his brain flatlined. Before he typed in $10,000. Sending it away before he could regret it.

It was less than sixty seconds of silent waiting before he got a message. It contained no words at all. Just ten numbers in a neat little row. It took James too long of a moment to realize it was a phone number.

He felt his heart race in his chest, eyes widening as he sat up. Staring down at it like it was a life altering revelation. And for all he knew, it was.

With shaking hands, he dialed the number, hesitantly raised the phone to his ear. His mind rushed, cursing himself because what was he even going to say? He should have practiced. He should have-

After two rings, the phone clicked with the sound of someone answering. The beat of silence drawing out so unbearably long before James heard the small hitch of breath.

“10k and no memo,” Seeker tutted his tongue against his teeth. “You must be in a state, James.”

He swallowed, hearing the purr in the man’s voice so much better than any voice memo or video. Not far off from how he’d imagined it. Snarky and mischievous in all the right ways. He felt himself breaking into a cold sweat at the sound of his own name. “Make me feel better,” he managed to blurt, before screwing his face in regret. Adding a more wounded, “Please.”

“Things took a turn?” the man asked, sounding aloof. Careless, apathetic.

It shouldn’t have been so hot to have someone not care about you. But God damn, it was sending off every good signal in his brain. He could feel it through his whole body. He huffed, “Off a cliff into a fiery canyon.”

“Being cynical is my job, darling.”

James couldn’t help the stupid, dazed smile that floated onto his face. He had the sudden urge to scream into a pillow like a teenager. “And what do you have to be cynical about?” he asked with all his mustered collectedness. “Is it absolutely unbearable being so lovely?”

There was a palpable smirk in the silence that had James rejoicing. “We were talking about you,” Seeker reminded him.

“Right,” he stifled his laugh. “Apologies.”

“So,” Seeker sighed. “Do you want to get it off your chest or…”

James waited for his other option but it never came. Leaving a hint of suggestion in the air. He bathed in it, never wanting it to leave. “It’s nothing,” he waved it away with swift emotional soberness. “I’m likely just being dramatic.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

James inspected his nails, feeling like Seeker was sitting across from him and he was unable to meet his eyes. Feeling like his problems were silly under the indifferent eyes of Seeker. He scoffed, nervously combing a hand through his ravenous hair. “My wife is still hanging out with my best friends.”

“Your wife?” Seeker was quick to say, a bit less indifference now.

“Ex-wife,” James corrected, feeling stupid all over again. “We divorced three years ago.”

“Mm,” Seeker hummed, something undefined in his flat tone. “Tell me about her then.”

Images flashed in the back of James’ mind, of her and her smile. Her lovely red locks. Her laugh in his ears when he’d try to pick her up, spin her. She hated it, but she wouldn’t stop laughing. “We met in college,” he started to describe. “She was a premed student. Wanted to deliver babies. Beautiful, intelligent, witty.”

“You have a type,” Seeker noted.

James smiled into the receiver, “Obviously.”

“And,” Seeker breathed. “Where did it all go wrong?”

James’ smile faltered, tracing shapes into the sheets with the tip of his finger. “She delivers dozens of babies every month,” he went on. “Confronts motherhood head on in all its most gory details. She wasn’t interested in having a family. I was.”

Seeker scoffed roughly into the phone, chewing on something between his words, “Oh, so she didn’t want to take your great seed and produce a little you. Didn’t think you to be so unbearably shallow, James.”

“Not like that. Don’t be so quick to judge,” he shook his head, going defensive. Because he had heard it all before, but never knew exactly how to prove his point. How to exonerate himself without exposing more vulnerable parts. His mind reeled with all the typical excuses he gave, but this time, talking to some ambiguously gorgeous stranger on the other side of the country, this time, he tried sincerity.

“My parents were the most wonderful people in the whole damn world. And yes, they were filthy fucking rich from generations of wealth, but you would have never known that. They weren’t content in an ivory tower, isolated by their privilege. They wanted to care for others, to leave the world better than they had found it.”

The lack of response on the other end of the line coaxed him to continue.

“Years later, when I was grown up, when I had watched all the other affluent kids around me turn into greedy narcissists, I asked them how they did it. How they kept the claws of wealth from sinking in,” he continued, getting lost in the memory. “They said it was me. Parenthood gave them the objectivity to realize that this world was so much bigger than just themselves, their lives, their riches. The pressure to raise me kept them grounded in reality, because they knew they were creating the world they wanted in me.”

“And you feel you need that?” Seeker asked, a tint of judgment in his tone. “To bury your ideals into an empty headed child. Reinvent yourself in them as a means of immortality.”

“It’s not about them being more like me,” he told him. “I want to grow, I want to be better, under my child’s example. To be more like them. Open-minded and empathetic and in touch with what humanity means before it all gets so insufferably complicated and shallow. I want to forge a relationship based on mutual respect. On love. That’s what my parents were to me. That’s what a good parent should be, don’t you think?”

Seeker was quiet for some time, seemingly marinating in the idea. “What happened to them?”

“Who?”

“Your parents,” he said, softer now. As if he anticipated where this was going.

James bit his lips, not liking this part of the story. “They are gone,” he said simply. “I lost them not long before the divorce.”

“You were grieving,” Seeker said, like a realization.

“Maybe,” James shrugged. “But more than that, I was ready to grow, to challenge myself. Become the person that I had respected in my parents.” He fussed with the frayed knee of his jeans. “I thought Lily shared that sentiment. A poor assumption on my part.”

“So you divorced her.”

“No,” James sighed, sinking back into the pillows. Feeling exhausted by his own candor. “I should have. But instead, I dragged the whole thing out. Made an ass of myself. All because I didn’t want to pull the trigger. Because I didn’t want to be the one to put an end to us.”

Seeker seemed to read between the lines, “You cheated on her?”

James’ spirit sank, remembering. “Once,” he admitted. “A low point. I’m not proud of it.”

“And she found out,” he surmised.

James nodded, even if he couldn’t see it. “Left the same night. Never looked back. Hell of a lot stronger than me. She always was.”

“Do you miss her?” the man asked, a tint of empathy in his tone that James didn’t expect.

He thought about it, never having let him dig quite deep enough to know. “I miss being someone’s. Being a confidant, an ally, a support system. It made me feel… valuable. Worthy.”

“Are you only worthy when you are in service to someone?” Seeker asked in unexpected accuracy. “A partner, a child, a cause?”

James felt a bit like the man had shot an arrow through the heart of his problem. Unwilling to admit it. “Didn’t know I paid for therapy,” he forced a laugh.

“What did you pay for then?”

“A distraction,” he said with labored honesty, no matter how superficial it sounded.

The man scoffed, “Then stop being so boring and let me have fun with you.”

James’ smile spread, biting down on his tongue to keep from making a more incriminating sound. “How so?” he dared to ask.

“Maybe I can tell you what I would do to you if I was there?” he suggested. “How exactly I would distract you.”

James felt the nerves at his neck and shoulders rush under the surface. Clenching the phone tighter in his hand. Intaking a breath that felt slower, harder. Like the weight of Seeker’s words were bearing heavy on his chest. His mouth fell open, hesitating around the question before his tone went soft. “What would you do to me?”

Seeker drew in a breath. “I’d let you take me out. Make sure to taunt you all fucking evening with the cut of my words and the smallest brushes of contact,” he nearly hissed. “And when I finally got you back to whatever bed I could take you on, I’d make you undress for me. Wouldn’t even give you the appreciation of me watching because I’d rather be elsewhere to be honest.”

“I’m sure that wouldn’t be true,” James huffed, leaning up to take his shirt off. Already too hot underneath. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to look away from me.”

“Mhm,” Seeker hummed, disinterested. “That’s what they all say.” He didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “And then, I’d walk myself to the edge of the bed, leaning over you. I can picture the way you’d look up at me. Licking your lips. Getting them all shiny. Cause you’re hungry for it.”

James’s eyes fluttered shut and he pictured it too. And where he wanted all the details to be sharp and crisp, there was a hazy soft glow around Seeker’s image. Wanting so badly to be able to fill in the details of his face, but settling on his soft mouth, the dangerous glint of his canines. And the thought of him had James’ whole body going warmer.

Seeker didn’t stop, “I’d look down at you naked below me. God, you’d already be hard. Just like you are now, desperate boy.”

The heat didn’t let up. So much so that he barely felt that chill of the room through his sudden feverishness. He was right, he could feel himself feeling increasingly tight in the confines of his jeans. His hand clenching the sheets tighter because he wanted to undo those pants, touch himself, but they weren’t there yet.

Seeker took a deep breath into the receiver before continuing, “I haven’t even touched you yet, but when I finally do, I’d let one finger trace up your throat, under your chin. And you’d arch with my touch, cause you’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? Not letting yourself give in?” his voice cutting through with a razor sharp edge. “God, I can imagine how much you’re wanting it now.”

James took a gasping breath, feeling the way his body reacted. Tightening up, arching just like Seeker was saying. Tilting his chin up toward the ceiling.

“And when you’ve arched as much as you can, practically lifting off that bed for me, I’d just laugh. Not giving you what you wanted.,” he said. “Not letting you kiss me.”

“Please,” James begged. “I want to kiss you so bad.”

“You can’t afford it, darling,” Seeker said, smile in his voice. “Nor do you deserve it.”

“I can and I do,” James assured him. “Name your price.”

“No, no,” Seeker soothed. “I wouldn’t kiss you. Instead, I’d let my hand comb down your body, wrap itself around your cock.”

James’s breath went sharp. And as Seeker spoke, he could feel the ghost of a warm hand drawing a slow straight line down the middle of his chest. And from just the idea of his touch, James felt his skin bloom pink. Traveling further and further south until he could feel that overwhelming tightness between his legs go even more helpless. Unable to stop himself now, he undid the button of his jeans, peeling them away to let his cock breathe.

“And I’d start to stroke you. Just as slow as I touch you. Just as slow as I let my eyes trail down your body.”

James whimpered. His hand twisting up in his jeans.

Seeker laughed, low and dark in his ear, “What if I hung up right now, James? What would you do?”

James’s body screamed in protest. “You wouldn’t.”

“I could,” he said. “Though I can hear it in your voice. You want to touch yourself, don’t you?”

He felt the twitch of his cock against his skin, begging. “Yes.”

“Then do it, darling..”

James’s hand unclenched the duvet, brushing over his hip. Feeling the shiver travel up his back in response. His fingers tucking under the waistband of his underwear until he was wrapping them around his cock. Letting out some breath he hadn’t even known he was holding when the warm on warm was so much better than he anticipated.

“You’re doing it, aren’t you?” Seeker asked, a smile in his voice.

James huffed. “Just keep talking,” he murmured.

“Fine,” Seeker laughed. “I’m stroking you so slow. You’re so hard for me. You feel so good in my hand.”

And James felt those slow strokes, each one making his chest weaken a little more.

“Look down, James,” Seeker hummed. “Are you leaking precum for me?”

He opened his eyes, watching his cock slipping through his hand. The clear, tacky droplets shining against his stomach like morning dew. He licked his lips, “Mhm.”

“I bet your precum tastes so good, James,” he whimpered. “Would you try it for me? Bring it up to those perfect lips of yours?”

So James did, drawing his hand up to his mouth. The aroma filling his senses and flooding him with even more heat. He dragged those fingers across his lips, his tongue, savoring it the way Seeker wanted him to.

“Fuck, I can hear you licking it off,” he hissed. “I bet you look so good right now. I bet if I was there I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I’d have to help you. Lick it off your fingers.”

“Seeker,” James begged around the fingers in his mouth. “Please, let me...” words trailed off, too embarrassed to ask.

“You want to touch yourself again? Then, do it.”

James let his hand encircle his cock again. His eyes screwing shut, shuddering at the much needed touch.

“The hand on your cock is even slicker now from where we’ve licked it. It must feel even better now.”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

“Good,” Seeker said. “I stroke you more, a little firmer now.”

And in response, James’s hand went firmer around himself. His body aching with want.

“That’s it,” Seeker eased. “And if you looked down, to watch yourself slip through my fist, you’d notice the way I’m looking up at you. Watching your face. Eyes so wide.”

James imagined it. Seeker’s face was so handsome in his imagination, his eyes sparking bright with insistence. “What is it?” he whispered.

“I was just thinking,” Seeker’s voice lacked timidness, so bold like James was just another client on the line. And it made him burn even hotter. “I want to ride you.”

James trembled, hand clenching around himself when his dick jumped. “Then, climb on top,” he smiled.

“You sure?” his tone was haughty, knowing. “If you don’t want that-”

“Seeker,” James growled. “Let me fuck you. I want to fuck you.”

The man paused. “Can you hear how hard I’m smiling, James?” he asked. “I’m smiling like this when I pull my shirt off. You liked my body in those photos, didn’t you?”

James pictured it. Imagining Seeker’s slim torso, his sharp edges and softer curves and the spaces between them too. “I loved it.”

“I know you did,” Seeker murmured. “And then I’m taking off my pants. I’m getting excited too. Seeing you all firm and stretched below me. I’m crawling back over you. Sitting in your lap like it is my own personal throne. Can you feel that, James? Feel how slick I am?”

James felt the slickness of his hand around his cock. “Yes,” he whined.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Seeker said. “On the way here, I fingered myself in the back of that car you sent for me. I just wanted to be so open for you. So you could sink right into me. Are you mad?”

James’s hand involuntarily tightened, just to slow himself down. Feeling the thought excite him too much. “I’m not mad,” he shook his head. “I’m just mad I couldn’t watch.”

“Next time, darling,” he said. “I’m so frustrated. Because I want to tease you more, but I can’t. I need it. Can I have it, James?”

“Seeker,” he said, voice firm. “Don’t even ask.”

“I don’t know,” he inhaled through his teeth. “Are you sure you really want it?”

“Please, Seeker,” he breathed, losing that firmness.

“Then I’ll do it,” Seeker said. “I’ll let myself sink down onto you.” He moaned, obscene in James’s ear. “Can you feel me? How hot and loose I am for you?”

James’s hips kicked up into his fist. “Yes,” he panted.

“How’s it feel?”

“So good,” he groaned, working himself. “So fucking good.”

“I start trying to ride you. And fuck,” he gasped. “You feel amazing. Just like I knew you would. And once I start, I can’t stop.”

James couldn’t help but pick up the rhythm of his hand, moaning into it. Nothing feeling real except the tight throb of his cock and the deep sound of Seeker’s voice in his ear.

“God, the wait was worth it,” he said. “Wasn’t it, James?”

“Mmhm,” he nodded, biting down on his lip. “So fucking worth it. You’re so fucking special.” And he meant it, Seeker’s imaginary weight bearing on him. The way it mattered that it was Seeker. The way it couldn’t have been anyone else.

“You like me, James,” he said, taking too much delight in it. “You like me so goddamn much.”

He saw Seeker’s beaming smile, his bare dewy chest, his hard, bouncing cock behind his eyelids. He moaned, body twisting up in response. His hand moving fluidly, furiously over himself.

“Are you admitting it?” Seeker breathed, exasperated. “Do you like me?”

“Yes,” he moaned. “Of course.”

“You don’t even care that you paid for me. It doesn’t matter to you. As long as you have me, right? As long as I’m yours for a moment in time. Your favorite little indiscretion that you’d bend over backwards for.”

He threw his head back against the sheets, “Yes.”

“Then don’t hold it in anymore,” Seeker panted. “Just fucking let it go. Tell me.”

James’s toes curled, shuddering and thrusting his hips up into his hand as he spilled across himself. “Fuck,” he gasped. “I like you so much. I’d do anything for you.” And his body willingly gave in to the insurmountable high, pushing him past his limit.

Seeker’s breaths were coming out short, heavy on the other line, “What do you like about me?”

James’s jaw clenched, gritting out the words, “Your stupid, cheeky comebacks and the smile in your voice when you’re cutting me down and the way you have me nervous with just the sound of your voice,” he groaned. “I fucking hate it. I hate how much I like you.”

Seeker’s laugh choked around his moan, deep and rough and breathy. And he kept moaning and moaning and James just listened, imagining him losing himself. Imagining the way he’d look with his cum spread across his stomach. Across the parts he hadn’t seen yet, but oh, how he wanted to in this moment.

He could hear Seeker breathing on the other end, quick and spent. But something about it had James imagining the wide smile across the man’s face. “I bet you look so beautiful right now,” James breathed.

“Well, that’s the thing,” he sighed. “I always look beautiful.”

James laughed, feeling the sweat on his neck and his chest. Looking down at the cum that was pooling against his skin like a badge of a victory he’d earned. “Prove it.”

There was a scoff in the high of Seeker’s throat. “Goodnight, James,” he said firmly before ending the call.

Chapter Text

James had only been awake for a half-hour before he was dropping another large sum into Seeker’s account like it had become his new god damn morning routine. Hating the overwhelming stress that told him everything in his world was fucked and the only peace he was capable of knowing was the sound of the man’s voice coaxing him to another climax. But if this was the price of momentary happiness, then James was more than okay with paying it.

“That might be a new record,” Seeker purred into his ear as soon as he answered the phone. “What has it been? Twelve hours since you last came from just my voice in your ear.”

“Fourteen technically,” James said, picking up his house compulsively. “But who’s counting?”

Seeker huffed under his breath. “What do you want, James?”

“I was just… thinking about you is all,” he tossed his clothes from last night into the hamper.

“Popped another Viagra with your morning latte and you’re ready for another round?”

James felt the silly little heat in his face, “As if I need Viagra.”

“Guilty till proven innocent,” he sighed. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” he suddenly felt shy, embarrassed that he even called at all. “Just wish you were here. Wish I was waking up to you.”

“You’re so soft, James,” he laughed. “To think you’ll be coming in three minutes.”

He felt that heat in his face go everywhere, coursing down his body like a prophecy awakened. “Should I set a timer?”

“Let me see you,” Seeker said, softer in his ear like he was close. James briefly imagined his lean weight close, tilting into him. It was so pleasant. “Take it off for me.”

James was standing in the middle of his bedroom, feeling that unaccustomed sensation of being watched. Like the receiving end of voyeurism. It made every nerve in his body splay wide like they were anticipating something. He hadn’t slept in a t-shirt, but he still had his sweatpants on. Becoming overly conscious of the way they felt as the hairs on his legs stood on end. He slowly reached for them, pushing and kicking them off his legs with his boxers still in them. Feeling the air of his bedroom touch every inch of him, a chill sweeping down his spine. “There,” he announced.

“Mm,” Seeker hummed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do look good.”

His mouth pulled up lopsided from the praise, standing a little taller.

“But I think you’d look better on the floor, don’t you?” Seeker offered. “Hands and knees?”

James’ breath folded in his chest. He carefully knelt down to the wood floors, bracing onto one hand. “Like this?”

“Ass higher, darling,” he said with a clap.

And in the moment, James could almost feel it. A hand against his ass cheek. He preened, arching. “There,” he groaned.

“Perfect,” Seeker giggled. “That’s perfect. Can you put me on speaker?”

James could feel a blush in his cheeks like some dumb subconscious worry that someone would hear, even though he knew he was the only one there. He put the phone to the ground, put it on speaker. Letting both hands brace against the floor, only then noticing just how heavy his cock was hanging between his legs. How hard he had gotten. And from what? Being told to get on the floor? Since when was he as sensitive as a teenager?

“That’s it,” Seeker soothed. “I can see that flush blooming across your chest, your back. You’re aching to be touched, aren’t you?”

James’ insides pulled like taffy in the low of his stomach. Wondering how he knew, how he could feel it through the phone. “Yes,” he said like a gasp caught in his throat. Closing his eyes just to try and ground himself, but all he had to cling to was Seeker’s voice.

“I’m going to sit in front of you and watch you do it yourself.”

James’ fingers curled into the wood floors. And no, he wanted it to be him, be Seeker touching him. But he wasn’t in control. And he could be good. He could listen. He reached for himself, letting his hand enclose his cock. His breath quivered in his weak chest.

“Just like that,” Seeker said, snarky smile in his voice. “Don’t stop.”

James’ other hand on the floor shook under his weight, feeling suddenly frail. His eyes clenching alongside his jaw as he tried to not crumble.

“Say my name.”

“Seeker,” he whimpered, hand on his cock gripping harder, picking up speed because he couldn’t help himself.

“Louder.”

“Seeker,” he hissed through his teeth, toes curling as he tried to hold on.

“Your three minutes is almost up, darling,” he noted. “Are you close?”

“Mhmm,” he choked out, arm shaking so hard, he had to sink down to his elbow to keep himself up.

“You have to want it, James.”

“I do,” he pleaded. “I swear I do.”

“I’m not convinced,” he said with a smirk in his voice as he promptly ended the call.

James’ eyes shot open, looking at the phone screen. “What?” he gasped. “No, no, no, NO.” He reached for it, slipping through his fingers briefly before he could go to his call history. He rang Seeker’s number. Because this wasn’t over. He couldn’t just leave like that. “Pick the fuck up, you brat,” he muttered under his breath, cock pulsing untouched between his legs.

Seeker’s phone went straight to voicemail. “Fuck!” James shouted, dialing him again. Getting another voicemail box. “Don’t you fucking-” he dialed him once more.

“Yes?” the man answered, tone so apathetically aloof.

“Seeker, what the fuck,” James hissed. “How could you-”

“Actions speak louder than words, James,” he said simply before hanging up again.

“Shit,” James felt like weeping. He sank down to the floor, swiping back to that transfer app and queuing up another $2,000. Please. read the memo as he sent it off.

The call came through just a moment later. “See how simple that was?”

“You said I’d be coming in three minutes,” James panted.

“And I think we proved you could have,” Seeker sassed. “But I can’t let you think I’ve become predictable now, can I?”

“Just please,” James swallowed, raising up on his knees again. “I’ll do anything. Just let me finish. Please.”

“Touch yourself then, you desperate little thing. Like I’m watching. Like I’m there.”

James let his eyes close again, imagining Seeker sitting on the edge of his bed. Doing something so stupidly passive like painting his nails as he lazily instructed James to fall apart for him. Like it was the easiest thing in the world. And James wanted to give him that, give him more. Anything. He’d do anything.

“Let me hear you, darling,” he encouraged with a soft giggle. “Let me hear you fall apart.”

James moaned, low and breathless as he thought of Seeker’s pointed canines showing through in a ruthless smile. He was so impossibly enticing without even trying. “Fuck,” he gasped as his body went tight, breaths seizing in his chest as he went weightless. The floor underneath him disappeared and he was in freefall for a moment that felt like forever before it all came crashing down. Before he was moaning wild and rampant and slick between his own fingers, dripping on the floor crudely and leaning his forehead against the wood.

“You sound so good, James,” Seeker told him. “Making a mess of yourself for me. Just for me, right?”

“Just for you,” James panted, crawling to the bed and sitting up against it. His muscles were screaming, aching. And in the next few moments, as he desperately tried to catch his breath, he expected Seeker to leave him again. To drop a witty one liner and be gone. But he didn’t do that. He lingered in uncharacteristic quiet, piquing James’ curiosity.

“Can I ask you something?” he finally asked, breaths almost righted.

“Probably not,” Seeker quipped.

James went on anyway, “You’ve never seen me.”

“Astute observation,” the man noted dryly.

James worked a hand into his hair, feeling the small layer of sweat on the back of his neck. “You’re not at all curious who you are talking to? Who is jacking off to half your face every night.”

“Not half my ass?”

“Both,” James smiled. “And everything in between. Answer the question.”

Seeker marinated in it for a moment before sighing. “It’s not relevant what you look like. In fact, it is better if I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Because then I can imagine you as whoever I like.”

James tried to contain his smirk, pulling his knees up into his bare chest. “But what if I’m better than you can imagine?”

“Wow,” Seeker choked through a laugh. “That’s some confidence. But if my other clients are any indicator, I doubt it.”

James blinked, trying to keep up. “You’ve seen other clients?”

Seeker scoffed through his teeth, “Do you understand what I do for a living?”

“Maybe I don’t,” he blinked. “I thought it was just photos, videos, texting, phone calls.”

“For most. But not all.”

James’ stare went blank on his bedroom floor, his mind firing in a million different directions. Feeling as if this changed everything, but he wasn’t quite sure why. “When was the last time you saw a client?”

“I’m packing right now.”

“For what?” James glared.

“I’m flying out to see someone,” he said simply like it was the most normal thing in the world.

James gawked, “You do that?”

“Not for everyone,” he reiterated.

James felt his thoughts run wild without him. Perhaps cause Seeker had been this nameless, anonymous, faceless entity, but to know that there were people who got to see him, hold him, fuck him. It was a wicked mix of jealousy for those people and hope for himself. “How does one, I don’t know-“

“You’re not there yet,” Seeker was quick to level him flatly.

James’ lips thinned into a flat line. “How much?” he questioned.

The man sighed into the phone, seemingly readying a smart remark, before perhaps deciding on something more candid. “It’s not a money thing. It’s a time thing. It’s a trust thing.”

“You can trust me.”

“I trust that you’re a pain in my ass.”

“Well actually, that’s exactly what I want to be,” he said, sarcasm dripping.

“Good God, James,” Seeker huffed, a nearly audible roll of his eyes. “You’re something else.”

James felt the unwilling smile in Seeker’s voice, mirroring it himself. Something twisting up tight in his stomach that wasn’t nerves, wasn’t temptation. Something more ambiguous, nearly foreboding.

“I really should be going. I have a flight to catch,” Seeker told him. “Maybe I can talk to you sometime next week.”

His eyes went suddenly wide, “Wait a minute. Next week?”

“Yeah, James,” the man said, like it was obvious. “I’ll be with someone else.”

“No, that’s not-” James felt himself rush with the need to keep talking, to keep Seeker his, not anyone else’s. “I’ll pay for you to stay in New York. I’ll-”

“James,” Seeker’s tone was firm. Setting a boundary. “I’ll talk to you later.”

And before he could protest again, the line had gone dead. James’ eyes going to the view in front of him. His desecrated bedroom floor. But it felt different now. Where he could see gratification in it before, now it felt empty, lonesome. As if he’d been left unfinished, unsated. James steeped in the deafening quiet until it was too much. Until he had to rouse himself to his feet and go take a shower.

The next few days went by unbearably slow, unbearably quiet. Sure, James still had pictures, voice memos, and a video to remember Seeker by, but it wasn’t the same as hearing his voice in real time. Knowing he was thinking of him too. And maybe that was delusional, to think of himself anything more than a piggy bank, but James had settled on not caring what he was to Seeker. He just wanted him however he could have him. And the intolerable silence was the very antithesis of that.

He was at the offices on Tuesday, sitting in a meeting with a mix of their staff and that of another organization. They were discussing a mutually beneficial project they were planning, going into the details of the different phases, delegating roles across the staff. James was trying his hardest to pay attention, but after two hours of going back and forth, he was getting restless. His thoughts drifting further from the room.

As someone else was presenting, he pulled his phone out, passively checking Seeker’s profile. His eyes getting caught on something different and not even recognizing what it was at first. Seeker had changed his profile picture. And when James clicked on it now, he saw the man shot from behind again. He was leaning halfway out of a balcony pool that overlooked a stunning turquoise ocean. He was fully naked, the water reaching just below those back dimples and obscuring the view below. All James could see was skin and it made him burn hot from a mix of attraction and jealousy.

“And that puts our prospective deadline for the end of December.”

James lifted his head to who was presenting. Playing the words back in his mind. “Wait a minute,” he slid his phone back into his pocket. “What about fall? I thought that was what we agreed to this year.”

The man at the front of the room went hesitant, “I don’t think that is realistic. The soonest we can do is December.”

James was already running too hot from the picture. Bitter poison lined his foaming mouth. “Well, quite frankly, that’s not going to cut it,” he said flatly. “We’ve been marketing this to donors for the fall. We can’t go back on that now.”

The guests shared a distressed look between themselves. The man struggling through his words, “Mr. Potter. We don’t have the resources right now to rush it.”

James was done, unwilling to hear more. Sick of staring at the same four walls when Seeker was on a beach somewhere without him. It wasn’t fair, just wasn’t fair. “You have till October,” he said, before closing his file with a loud thud. “Make it happen.” He stood from his chair and walked back to his office where he was fully planning on looking through Seeker’s photos like some war widow. But he was only sat at his desk for a second before Marlene came bursting in.

“McKinnon,” he sighed, dropping his phone onto his desk in a clatter. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

Her hands were fisted, her face a pale cast of fury. “With the utmost respect, James,” she started, articulating every word. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

James stared wide-eyed at her. Never having seen her so mad.

She pointed towards the closed office door. “I don’t know if you forgot, but those people you just so rudely blew off are a massive community partner of ours. We’ve collaborated for the past five years on this project and they have always come through. So why are you suddenly acting like such a fucking asshole?”

James’ shoulders softened, knowing she was right. “I’ll call them this afternoon,” he waved dismissively. “I’ll apologize. Tell them December is fine”

“I don’t get it,” Marlene kept going, still worked up. “You’ve been acting like a crazy person all week. You’ve been barking orders and skipping meetings and not eating. You don’t do that, James. You aren’t like that.”

He looked away, feeling embarrassed for drawing attention to himself. For bearing this stupid abscense of Seeker so loudly that everyone could see it. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Seriously,” she came forward, leaning both hands onto his desk. “What’s the thorn in your ass?”

“It’s-” he almost said it. Seeker’s name right behind his lips where he wished he could keep it forever. “It’s nothing.”

She sighed, roughly. Reaching up to tie her blonde hair into a bun, “You are taking the rest of the week off.”

“No,” he clipped, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. That’s the last thing I need.”

“Is it?” she scoffed.

He pushed his glasses up his nose, tinkering with them. “I don’t want to be alone right now,” he admitted weakly. “I do stupid shit when I’m alone.”

Marlene shook her head, “Stupid shit is forcing everyone around you into whatever the hell you are going through.

“I get that but-”

“Don’t you have some friends you can call? Sirius and Remus?”

He went quiet again, full of shame. “Not on the best of terms right now.”

“What happened?”

“Long story,” he sighed. “Not very interesting.”

She looked at him for one long moment, searching his face for something. If she had found it, she didn’t say, instead reaching into her back pocket and pulling out her phone. She started typing into it. “There,” she finally said. “I just changed your company password. You’re locked out of all files until Monday.”

“Are you kidding me?” James sat forward. “Can you do that?”

“Go home,” Marlene urged. “Rest. Relax. You deserve a break, boss. Alone or not.”

“McKinnon,” he warned. “Don’t do this.”

“Go,” she said, taking one last look at him before leaving.

James dragged himself back home, passing out in his bed as soon as he arrived. So emotionally and mentally drained from even his meager half day. Wondering how he was going to get through the rest of his week with absolutely nothing to busy his mind. When he did wake up, it was dark outside his windows and his doorbell was ringing. He pulled himself from the bed to answer it, stunned when it was Peter was standing on his doorstep.

“Good evening, Jim,” the man smiled warmly.

“Fuck,” he cursed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “McKinnon sent you, didn’t she?”

“She said you could use a night out,” he rocked back and forth on his toes. “So I’m here to be your wingman.”

“No, I don’t want to go out, Pete,” he shook his head. “I was just going to stay in. Order something. Watch a movie. Get wasted.”

“Well, go get something nice on and we’ll go out and get wasted together. Drinks on me.”

James looked at him, at his soft smile. Earnest and encouraging. He couldn’t deny him. “You’re not paying.”

“Deal,” Peter beamed.

An hour later, they were sitting in some loud, dark bar in Capitol Hill, people watching as they sipped their drinks. James was well into his Jack and Coke, feeling it warm his empty belly. It made the thoughts of Seeker feel ever so slightly more distant, dulling their sharp edges just enough to be palatable.

“Hey,” Peter slapped his arm, pointing across the room. “That one over there.”

“Don’t point. You look obvious,” James chastised, but followed the line of his arm.

He saw a blonde man sitting at the bar. He was muscular, fair-haired and eyed, stockier than James’ usual type but undeniably handsome.

“He’s been watching you for awhile now,” Peter said in his ear. “You should go talk to him.”

James felt out of his depth for a long moment, having to remind himself that he used to do this. Before Seeker, he would go to bars, pick up people for a night. He hadn’t always been a bottomless pit for someone. He could do charm, he could do fleeting.

“How do I look?” he asked Peter, smoothing his hands down his black jacket, his button-down and jeans.

“Like a million bucks,” his friend gave him a double thumbs up.

“Not a billion?” he tilted his head.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Just go,” he said, pushing him up to his feet and towards the man.

James squared his shoulders, feeling just the right amount of liquid confidence dripping through his veins to numb his anxieties. He made his way across the room, leaning close into the man’s shoulder to be heard over the roar of the bar. “Hey,” he smiled. “Is this seat taken?” He pointed to the barstool at the man’s side.

The blonde smirked, beckoning towards it, “All yours if you tell me your name.”

“James,” he smiled, sitting across from him. So close that their knees were brushing. “You?”

“Evan.”

James eyed him from a closer distance, his handsome, chiseled cheekbones. His firm arms and chest beneath his shirt. He smirked, “Your hands look awfully empty.”

Evan raised a brow, “What do you suggest I put in them?”

“Maybe a drink to start?” he shrugged.

“And then?” the man’s voice dripped with suggestion.

James fought the smile on his face. “We’ll see. Come on.” He caught the bartender's attention, ordering them two more drinks for the both of them. Sucking down half of his almost immediately as just a means for busying his hands. “So, Evan,” he smacked his lips together, tasting the flavor of the whiskey on them. “What do you do?”

“I own a five star restaurant in Ballard,” he offered. “You?”

“I run a non-profit.”

Evan’s light eyes narrowed, tilting his head. “Wait, I’ve seen you before,” he noted. “Did you do that half-marathon last fall through Seattle Center? The one for homeless youth?”

James smiled, “Yeah, I did. That’s my organization.”

“No way,” he laughed, a deep reverberating sound in his broad chest. “You looked just as fit then. I wanted to talk to you, but you…” he smirked behind his drink.

The curiosity ate away at him. “But I what?”

“Well, you ran off,” he shrugged. “Left me in the dust.”

He choked around his laugh, “Sorry about that. I get a bit competitive during those kinds of things.”

“It’s fine,” Evan assured him. “I think I won actually. Having that view of you from behind.”

James burst out into giggles, head spinning. Thinking that maybe flirting was like riding a bike. And just because he had only been doing it through a phone as of late didn’t mean he'd forgotten it. The two of them continued to chat, ordering two more drinks in the process. James was feeling it more now. A slow drip that soaked through all of him, tongue marinated in it like he’d never taste anything else again. His laugh was louder now, nearly snorting, and somehow Evan’s hand had found its way to his knee. It was warm. He liked it.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Evan asked, face close. His breath was just as alcohol soaked. Smelling like the cherry and orange in his Old Fashioneds.

James looked up into his eyes. His smile must have faltered for the way that Evan’s eyes immediately went to it.

“You are?” the man’s brow arched.

“No,” James shook his head. “No, not really.”

“Not really?”

“It’s…” he tried to find the words, but with his head so fuzzy.

“Complicated?” Evan scoffed at the cliche.

James felt himself flush pink with embarrassment. “It’s not really complicated,” he admitted. “It’s really quite simple. He’s seeing other people.”

Evan’s eyes painted down his face, landing on his mouth. “So, you can too?”

James swallowed, stomach twisting up into knots. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I can.”

Evan smiled as he leaned in, putting his hand against James’ thigh and squeezing as he met his lips. Lingering there so long that James felt that lightheadedness spin his head like a plate.

James leaned further in, chasing the man’s mouth and his taste without thought. Taking the slight part of his mouth as the invitation to lick behind his dashing smile.

James had forgotten how good kissing could feel, wondering absentmindedly why Seeker wouldn’t even want to imagine them doing this. He’d probably be so good at it. Probably vicious and biting like the brat he was. James’ mind went still for a moment, realizing too late that he had a handsome man’s tongue in his mouth and his thoughts were still preoccupied with Seeker.

He felt his shoulders go soft as his awareness went to that phone in his jean pocket. It felt heavier now, weighing him down like an anchor. The feeling was familiar in a way he couldn’t place at first. Just beyond the edge of his consciousness. And while he should have forced himself to stay present as Evan’s hand went further up his thigh, he instead reached out for that familiarity. Feeling around blindly for it until he realized where he had felt it before.

That anchor in his pocket suddenly feeling identical to the one he used to carry around his ring finger. The solid gold band and all it meant when Lily had slid it onto his finger with all their family and friends watching. How it felt against that strange man’s skin when he didn’t take it off. When he caught its gleam in the darkness and realized exactly what he was doing, who he was betraying.

James suddenly pulled away, looking back into Evan’s face as seeing the contained concern there.

“What’s wrong?” the blonde asked, the squeeze of his hand easing against his leg.

“I’m sorry,” James shook his head. “It’s not you. It’s just…” he couldn’t describe it.

Evan’s mouth pulled into a flat smile, searching James’ face. “So, it is complicated.”

James tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm himself down but it wasn’t happening. “Keep my tab open for yourself, okay?” he offered. “Anything else you want is on me.”

Evan nodded, polite and quiet as he sat back in his seat, “It was nice to meet you, James.”

He couldn’t even get out a reply as he staggered up from the barstool, legs weaker than when he had sat down. Mind racing as his body felt distantly floundering underneath him, trying to steer himself toward the exit. He went out onto the street, steps unsteady as his heart thrummed in his ears. The crushing weight of self-hatred on his chest. Of ambiguous hopelessness that he couldn’t pin on anything.

He careened down an alleyway, feeling for the brick wall as he slid down onto his haunches. His lungs quivering as if he was sobbing, nearly hyperventilating. He went for his phone, that weight in his pocket, dialing Seeker’s phone number.

“Seeker, please. Please,” he murmured under his breath. “Pick up. Please.”

After two rings, it went to voicemail. Screened.

“Fuck,” James shook, listening to the robotic woman’s voice tell him to leave his message after the beep. “S-Seeker,” he stuttered out. “I was just calling to let you know…” What did he want him to know? Fuck, what was he doing?

He swallowed, trying to find his voice again. “That I want to put my hands all over you. Leave handprints that your other stupid clients can see.” He held his hand over his eyes, askewing his glasses on his face. “And maybe that is dumb and possessive. But when it comes to you, I’m obviously very dumb and very possesive. And easy, so goddamn easy since it’s been little more than a week and I’m eating from your palm. Like I haven’t even seen all of you, but I already know that I would do anything for you and-” he groaned, frustrated, through his teeth. “If you’re even listening to this, you’re probably having the time of your life mocking me. And mock me all you want, Seeker, but there’s no one in your rotation that wants you as bad as I do. I’m fucking positive of that.” He forcefully ended the call.

He sat there in that alley, near tears for a while. Not sure what it all meant. The remorse, the remembering mixing with the compulsion, the delusion. Drenched in alcohol and loneliness and none of it was mixing well. It took him too long to calm down, to get his breathing right, to push himself up and go back into the bar.

He tried to look for Peter, searching the corners and booths, but the crowd of people, the loud music, the chattering voices was just overwhelming now. He was overstimulated, unable to find his friend. He gave up, going back out towards the street as he called him.

“Hello?” Peter’s voice came through loud and clear. No background noise behind him.

“Where did you run off to?” James asked, head still swiveling around looking for him outside. “I can’t find you.”

“I left,” he explained. “I saw you making out with that blonde dude in the corner. I assumed you wouldn’t need a ride home.”

James’ shoulders fell. “I see.”

“Do you need a ride?” Peter asked. “I can double back for you.”

“No, no,” James shook his head. “You go home, Pete. I’ll see you later.”

“Get home safe,” he called cheerfully before hanging up.

James stared at his phone screen, feeling the wavering of his gravity like a strong breeze. The words in his phone going blurry as he managed to use the last of his comprehension to get himself a ride.

Upon arriving home, James rummaged through his liquor cabinet, trying to find that whiskey towards the back that he rarely touched. When he did find it, he poured himself what looked like a double on ice, taking it to his living room. He had left the lights off, they were hurting his eyes anyway. The glow of the city lights in the distance, their reflection across the lake, was just enough to navigate him to the couch where he collapsed onto his back, feet resting on the opposite end. He sipped his drink, unbuttoned his shirt, and scrolled through his call history. Counting nine outgoing calls he made to Seeker in the back of his ride home.

“Maybe just one more,” he murmured to himself. “If he doesn’t answer this time…” He’d drown himself in whiskey? Throw himself off his roof? He didn’t finish his thought. Instead, dialing the man’s number and holding the phone to his ear as he nursed another sip. There was one ring, two, three, four. So many that James’ rattled brain lost count and deemed it hopeless. He went to end the call.

But just as his finger hovered over the button, the receiver clicked. “James,” it said, the words rushed. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah,” he said, rushing to put it to his ear again. Tone too cheerful before the drink sludged through his veins again. His stomach growled with nausea. “Well, actually no. I’m not okay. I’m a bit… Well, I’m… did you get my voicemail?”

“I don’t listen to voicemail.”

“Oh. Of course you don’t,” James’ eyes fell closed, cursing himself. “For the best, probably. Because, you know?”

“I don’t know.”

James’ head spun. He felt like an idiot. He was an idiot. What was he doing? “I’m sorry. I’m not my most coherent right now.”

“You’re drunk,” Seeker surmised. He sighed hard. “Glad I picked up. Goodnight, James.”

“Wait, please,” he begged. “Please, talk to me. I need you.”

“Need me to what?” Seeker snapped. “Make you come? I’m sure you are more than capable of doing that on your own.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Just need you. Need to hear your voice. Make sure you’re okay.”

Seeker went uncharacteristically quiet. No smart remark at the ready. What spoke for him instead was the distant sound of crashing waves emanating from the background.

James didn’t know how to take it. Swallowing down whatever was left of his pride. “Where are you?”

He scoffed, “Hardly your business.”

“I know it’s not,” his shoulders sank. “It’s just that I can hear waves.”

“I’m on the beach.”

“And your client?” he managed to ask without bristling.

Seeker’s beat of silence felt judgmental. “Back up at the house. Asleep.”

James dared to picture it all. Seeker having been wrapped up in bed with some stranger, seeing James’ name on his phone screen. How he would have to unlace himself from the man’s side, pad quietly away to the beach to take the call. The imagery filled James with such a turbulent mix of emotions, not far off from the ocean that echoed in his ear. “Are you okay?” he asked barely above a whisper, hoping it was enough to express the depth of meaning.

“I’m fine, James,” Seeker sighed, frustrated. “This is my job.”

“I know it is, but still-”

“Still what?”

James bit down on his tongue, hating all the venom in Seeker’s voice. “I worry.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” James breathed, working a hand through his dark hair, across his tired face where his stubble was growing in. He could feel the conversation sobering him. Stupid, entitled possessiveness quieting down to something weaker, needier. “Can you tell me something about yourself?”

“Like what?”

“Anything,” he shook his head. “What is…” he tried to think, but he could feel a headache coming on. He clenched his eyes tight, fighting through it. “What is something you loved as a child?”

“I should really let you go.”

“Please,” he begged, too exhausted to keep the desperation from bleeding through. “Please.”

Seeker held a pensive silence, the waves crashing behind him. “Ballet.”

“Ballet?” James blinked his eyes open. “Really?”

“I danced all throughout my childhood. Was in a company until my early twenties.”

James tried to picture it. That lithe frame making so much more sense. The refined set of his shoulders, the graceful curve of his neck. Of course, it made so much sense. “And you enjoyed it?”

“Yeah,” Seeker admitted with some difficulty. “Yeah, I did.”

James tried to memorize the vulnerability in his voice, wanting to drown in it. Never having thought he’d like it better than his cutting wit, but he did. “Why did you stop?”

“Complicated.”

“I can follow.”

“You can’t.”

James worked a piece of his hair between his fingers, staring up at the gray of his dark ceiling. “Was it about money?” he asked, voice going softer. “Because maybe I could find you a studio in the city. Pay for you to take some classes.”

Seeker’s words bit out, “So you can get some pics of me in tights?”

“No,” James shook his head. “You don’t have to send me anything. I just want you to do something that makes you happy.”

The bite in the man’s voice died down and when he spoke again, he sounded like something had exhausted in him too. “It’s not about money, James,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry,” he clenched with regret, embarrassment. “I just thought maybe-”

“It’s fine. No need to apologize.”

James half-expected to be hurried off the phone, surprised when he wasn’t. When the sound of those crashing waves sustained through Seeker’s quiet. He licked at the residual whiskey on his lips. “How is it there?” he asked. “Are you having… fun?”

Seeker sighed, “You ever been fucked on a yacht before?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“You’re missing out,” he said, but his tone was flat, inflectionless. As if his thoughts were somewhere distant.

They went quiet again. James closed his eyes, listening to the waves in the background. Trying to picture them, but they felt obscure. Ambiguous. “Can you tell me what it’s like?” he whispered.

“The sex?”

“No, the beach. Right now. Can you describe it for me? I want to picture it like I’m there.”

It felt like Seeker might take the opportunity to turn him down again, until he started to speak. “The night sky looks like one big canvas painted oil spill black, pin pricked with holes to let the stars shine through. If I stayed out here long enough, I could tell you which constellations are which. Point out my favorites.”

“Mm,” James hummed, imagining a glint in his eyes when he’d get excited about something. He wondered what color they were. Warm brown or eccentric green. Perhaps a pure blue. Like the ocean. Yeah, blue. That would suit him. “I’d like that.”

“The tide is high, sand foamy where the waves crash and meet my feet. But the water is warmer than you’d think. It’s tempting, even if the horizon looks a black hole that could swallow me if I swim out too far.”

“Don’t do it,” James whimpered. “Don’t get swept away.”

“I’m trying not to.”

“With great difficulty?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

James felt himself go warm as if the water was at his feet, as if he was swimming through it. Feeling it everywhere. “Me too. But I don’t care anymore.”

Another sustained quiet. More crashing waves. Twice as long now as it seemed that Seeker had nothing left to say.

James ran a hand through his hair again, nails roughly scraping against his scalp. “I just like you so much, Seeker,” he whispered.

“Regulus,” the man corrected, voice lacking that brash confidence he typically made sound easy. “You can call me Regulus.”

“Wait,” James sat up as fast as he could from the couch like he’d been doused in cold water. “Hold on. Is that your real name?” His head spun, feeling like he was granted something special and not knowing what to do with it.

The man went quiet again like it was a force of habit by now, but James could have sworn that he felt anxiety buzzing through the phone.

“Who calls you Regulus?” he asked.

“What do you mean? My friends? Or-”

“I mean of your clients,” he clarified. “Which of them get to call you by your real name?”

There was a weak sound in the high of the man’s throat. “A few,” he croaked.

James’ smile stretched wide across his face, his cheeks aching as he felt the laugh bubble up from his chest. “You’re an awful liar, Regulus.”

He went quiet again, not laughing. Not confirming. Not denying. He sighed. “I should let you go.”

“Wait-”

“Have a good night, James,” he said, firmly before the line went dead. No more crashing waves, no more anxious silences, no more Seeker.

Chapter Text

By the next morning, jacking off to Regulus’ pictures and videos had become impossible to do. What had felt at first like a reasonable replacement became an unwelcome reminder of what he was missing. Of who was out there galavanting with some rich man who was probably still calling him Seeker. And it just didn’t seem fair. How could James be trusted with Regulus’ real name, but not his presence. The more he thought about it the more he realized just how precarious their situation was. How there was nothing stopping the man from never calling him again. Afterall, James was just a piggy bank. And to keep his expectations in check, he had to keep reminding himself that.

With nothing left to occupy James’ mind, he was on Sirius’ and Remus’ front step by dinnertime. They were both staring at him in the doorway like they weren’t sure which James they’d be getting.

He felt shame fill him the longer their gazes weighed on him. Mustering up the last of his humility, “I want to apologize.”

Sirius and Remus shared a glance before Sirius was extending his hand. “We do too.”

A few minutes later, James was sitting on their couch, toying with a drink in his hands. He was having a hard time meeting their eyes. “I’m sorry for biting your heads off,” he said, just like he’d practiced the whole way here. “I just didn’t know you both were spending time with them. Didn’t expect it. I was feeling insecure about the whole thing.”

“About what whole thing?” Remus asked from where he stood, arms crossed tight over his chest. He wasn’t looking at James like he was mad anymore. More like he pitied him.

“The divorce. Told through the lens of my many lapses in judgment,” James felt a twitch in his face, the kind he always got before he was going to cry. He held himself firm. “Every time I have to confront it, it just makes me feel like the most ungrateful, undeserving piece of shit to ever be loved.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Sirius reeled, scooting closer on the couch to put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a lot of self-hatred so casually spoken.”

James’ lips pursed. “It’s worse on the inside.”

Sirius sighed, shaking his head. “You can’t do that, man,” he murmured softly, letting his flat palm rub circles into his back. “You tried for Lily. but you stumbled. And that’s okay. You stopped seeing forever in her and you panicked.”

“Being panicked is one thing,” James huffed, lining it with self-deprecation. “But the vicious fighting. The lying. The cheating. That wasn’t okay.”

“James,” Remus breathed, drawing his attention upwards. “Look at all the people in your life. They know what happened. They know what you did. They’ve forgiven you. No one is holding this against you but yourself.”

Maybe it was true, but perhaps James was the only one giving himself the proper punishment he deserved.

“We’re sorry too,” Sirius told him. “We are obviously out of touch. For not thinking that us hanging out with Lily and Mary would hurt you like it did. It’s just hard. Because we don’t know you carry all this around. We don’t see this until it comes out in the most volatile way.”

Remus nodded, “If we had known, we would have been more delicate, more transparent.”

“It’s fine,” James held his hand up in defense. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not, man,” Sirius contested. “And you won’t be able to heal from this until you offer yourself the same kind of empathy you offer others. Until you learn that loving someone isn’t a one-sided show of your worth, but instead, an equal exchange.”

James’ thoughts habitually tumbled to Regulus. Knowing it was anything but an equal exchange, but feeling crushed under the weight of his feelings for him. Wanting so badly to show Regulus that he was everything he needed, but only getting bits of the man spoon fed to him. James immediately defended it in his mind. He said that they were making progress. Growing trust. Telling himself that he had promised Regulus patience and he had to make good on that promise. But what were they even working towards anymore? What was the end goal?

“Hey,” Sirius knocked his shoulder. “Fuck all this. Let’s order in and watch a movie. Your pick.”

When his phone went off the next day while making lunch, James stupidly rushed to see if it was Regulus, being sorely disappointed when it was instead Sirius.

“I have a bit of a proposal for you,” his friend said, sounding like he was running out of breath.

“Remus already did that, Sirius,” he reminded him, layering his sandwich together. “And you know that my true love is my own suffering.”

“I’m being serious,” he cut through, tone dark. “I need a favor, but if you play your cards out, this could work out swimmingly for you. And your organization.”

“I’m listening.”

“My cousins are in town from the East Coast,” he told him. “Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, the couple behind one of the richest oil families in the world. And they are trying to make the rounds with visiting family and professional connections alike. They are stupid fucking rich, James. And they are always keeping their ears open about non-profits, so they can have enough tax write offs to slap their accountant across the face with.”

“How would you know what they’re doing? Don’t you not talk to your family anymore?”

“They reached out specifically to me, their most hated relative. Asking to meet you.”

“Me?” James got a knife from the drawer, flipping it through his fingers. “What do I have to do with this?”

“You know the Lestrange's?”

James remembered Marlene’s description of them from the party. Huge in the city’s art sector, frequent donors. “I do.”

“Narcissa is sisters with Bellatrix LeStrange,” he explained. “And while they play it off like it is all sisterly love, they are constantly trying to one up each other. Lestrange's donate one amount, they want to double it. You see where I’m going with this?”

“I think so,” he nodded, cutting his sandwich on a diagonal.

“It’s my long con, James!” Sirius urged, getting too excited. “Become best friends with the West Coast’s most respected philanthropist and have him capture the wallets of my absolutely insufferable family so that their grossly earned money can be put to better work!”

James huffed, “I’m feeling offly used.”

“You’re into that,” he jeered with a smirk in his voice. “You need to send a car to their hotel tonight. Dinner needs to be somewhere immaculate. And no Asian food. They are total snobs with no spice tolerance.”

Just then, James’ doorbell rang, pulling his attention away. “Can you send me anything else you think would be valuable to know?” he asked, wiping his hands down his jeans. “I got to go. Someone is at the door.”

“Of course, yes. I’ll message you. You’re my best friend in the whole goddamn world, James. Best of luck with this!”

“If it goes south, I know who to blame. Take care.”

He wasn’t sure who to expect at the door, relieved when he looked through the security camera and saw Minerva. “Hello,” he greeted warmly, as he pulled open the door. Suddenly, something weaved through his legs, brushing up against him. He looked down to see Minerva’s tabby soliciting attention.

“And hello to you too, little one,” he smiled, ducking down to greet her. She immediately put her face into his hand, mewling for a scratch. “What is her name again?”

“Cat,” Minerva said firmly. “I don’t play into the nonsensical idea that a pet needs a name. They hardly have names for us.”

“Fair enough,” he nodded. “Little Cat, look at you so far from home? Are you following your mother?”

“She’s getting increasingly bold,” Minerva said with a tint of nervousness in her shaky voice. “I thought I was getting a domestic house cat in her, but she seems to be part ruffian for all the time she spends outside.”

“As long as she remembers to come back,” James scratched up under her chin, hearing her purr. He righted himself, looking back to his neighbor. “And to what do I owe the pleasure.”

She sighed, wrapping her cardigan around herself more tightly, “I hate to bother you, but I realize I have made a silly mistake and I was hoping you could help me.”

“I can try,” he leaned into the door frame. “What’s up?”

“I’m a season pass holder down at McCaw Hall. And there is a performance tonight, but I can’t seem to make it. I double booked at another engagement across town. I offered it to a few friends, but they all had plans. I wondered if you could take them,” her face crinkled in hope. “I would hate to see them go to waste.”

“I actually just booked up my-” James stopped, thinking. “You said they are for a performance at McCaw?”

“Indeed,” she nodded. “I rent a box every season.”

“And how close would this box be to say… the Lestrange’s box?”

She smirked, leaning a bit closer to talk out the side of her mouth, “To be quite frank, I think they are far superior seats.”

James laughed aloud, beaming excited, “Minerva, I could kiss you right now.”

“Please don’t,” she held up her hand. “Just take my tickets and enjoy yourself.”

It turned out that Lucius and Narcissa were just as insufferable as Sirius made them out to be. Boring and somber, incapable of cracking a joke. James felt like dinner with them was a slow and painful torture he would wish upon his greatest enemy. The couple was careful to note every small, barely noticeable issue with the French restaurant James had chosen downtown, but they seemed quietly pleased as soon as they tasted the food.

“So where are you both living on the East Coast?” James asked, trying to pace himself with the wine, but it was so tempting to let alcohol drown out the dull conversation.

“We split our time between Manhattan and upstate,” Narcissa smiled tightly in a way that made her look constantly in pain. “Though admittedly, the city has fallen into a deplorable place. Seems they can’t keep riffraff out anymore.”

James gritted his teeth, toying with the stem of his glass. “That was where Sirius grew up, wasn’t it? Manhattan?”

“Indeed,” Lucius nodded. “We had the privilege of having many dinners at the Black’s townhouse growing up. Before it too fell to ruin at the hands of your friend’s brother.”

“Sirius?” James perked. “You’re talking about his brother?”

“The baby Black himself,” Narcissa scoffed. “Or brat Black as I would probably call him now.” She cleared her throat, expression already filled with disgust. “When his mother finally passed away, he sold their corporation off to the highest bidder. Sirius was understandably furious, though, of course for him, for all the wrong reasons.”

Lucius rolled his eyes, “He wanted to make the company align with his silly liberal agendas. Some insolent gibberish about ethics. Probably a socialist takeover. Every worker gets a small fortune and a kiss on the forehead or whatever those union people are asking for.”

James fought through his own desire to jump in and correct them, knowing it was a useless endeavor.

“But baby Black seemed to want to wash his hands clean and live off the riches. The little shit,” Narcissa scoffed.

“Cissy,” Lucius warned, cutting into his steak so hard he scratched the porcelain of his plate.

“Apologies,” she shook her head, taking a long sip of her wine.

James leaned a bit closer, "Why would he sell the company? Why not offer it to Sirius?"

"Because he's a selfish prick who only thinks of himself,” Lucius said, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Not of legacy, of integrity.”

“Calm down, dear,” Narcissa put a hand to his elbow.

James watched them go quiet, obviously still holding grudges. At least they had that in common with Sirius. Satisfied with all he’d gleaned, he redirected the conversation to something far more benign from there on out.

Minerva had not mentioned that the performance wasn’t a symphony, nor an opera, nor a musical even. It was a ballet. And while objectively, the showing of Swan Lake was the perfect excuse to not have to talk to the Malfoys anymore, it was impossible to sit through without thinking of his last conversation with Regulus. About what the man had shared about his past passion. James wondered again why he had lost it, why he had turned to his current profession instead.

He was lost in the thoughts throughout the whole performance, using the music to feel his way through the somberness of his own emotions. That push and pull of dynamics stirred feelings in his heart that were confusing, tortuous.

James secured a sizable pledge from the Malfoys at the end of the night, knowing Marlene would be thrilled to hear that his time off had come away with a great success. But he didn’t have it in him to celebrate, instead sulking off back to his home, casting off his suit and curling up into his bed. The haunting music still in his ears, making the lonesomeness sink so much deeper.

Perhaps as a last resort before sleep, he reached for his phone. He sent off $15,000. The memo reading, Thinking of you. He didn’t expect a reply, instead putting his phone to the side and letting his eyes fall close. Letting sleep’s claws sink into him.

He didn’t know how long he was asleep before his phone was vibrating in the sheets. It was still in the pitch black of night and when he looked over at his bedside clock briefly, the time read a quarter after two.

“Hello?” he answered, throat dry with residual sleep.

“Hey.”

James recognized his voice immediately, the faintness of it echoing in his ears alongside that ringing music. He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. “Haven’t heard from you in a while,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Got busy,” Regulus clipped sharply. “Not sorry about it.”

“Right,” he held his breath tight in his chest with some sort of anticipation. “So, are you home now?”

“Mhm” he hummed.

“Did you have a good time?”

“Amazing,” he said, though his tone lacked any hint of excitement.

“Lovely,” James replied similarly.

The silence went awkward, pulling tight between them. James hated it, wishing for their tit-for-tat banter instead. At least that was safe, at least he knew it made Regulus happy. But he could feel the man’s upset through the phone and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, sounding like a child in his own ears.

Regulus scoffed, “Spamming my phone with calls while you were drunk and I was working?”

James was having a hard time following. Because while it was true, he still remembered the eventual conversation. He remembered how Regulus had stayed on the phone, talked to him more honestly than he ever had about his passions, shared his real name. It hardly felt like the mark of someone who hadn’t wanted to talk to him, who had been furious he’d called.

“You could have left me,” he explained. “You could have hung up. Why didn’t you?”

Regulus hissed through his teeth. “That’s enough, James.”

“What?” his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that’s enough,” he said more firmly. Leaving them in another uncomfortable silence.

James was drowning in it, unable to read him. Unable to understand what was going on. He swallowed, toying with the edge of his duvet. “I went to the ballet tonight. I saw Swan Lake.”

Regulus was quiet, the sound of shifting ice like perhaps he was drinking.

“I spent the whole night thinking about you,” James admitted with labored vulnerability. “I was imagining you there. How much I would have liked that. How I would have liked for you to explain the plot points that were going over my head. Correct my bad french.”

Regulus was slow to respond, still no inflection in his voice. “Sounds like you had a great time.”

“Awful actually,” he corrected. “Missed you far too much.”

Regulus sighed, sounding exasperated, “Again-”

“Yeah, I know,” James stopped him. “You were busy. You’re not sorry.”

The man went quiet again.

James felt an ache in his chest. “Maybe I should let you go,” he breathed. “I’m sure you’re exhausted from your trip.”

“I would have liked to go.”

James stopped, trying to replay the softened words in his mouth. “What?”

“To the ballet with you,” he said, a slight choke in his throat. “I would have liked that.”

James knew it was stupid, but just the smallest amount of intentionality made him feel warm everywhere. It coated down every inch of him, up into his dumb smile. He’d missed this. He’d missed Regulus making him feel like this.

“Hey, Regulus?” he asked, knowing that smile in his voice was audible now.

“Yeah?”

“Do you trust me?”

The man huffed, a much-needed smirk in his voice, “Famous last words.”

“I’m serious,” James urged with a laugh. “Do you trust me?”

Regulus went quiet again. Pensive and vulnerable. “Yeah,” he breathed.

James was smiling twice as wide now, curling onto his side in bed. Closing his eyes and delighting in the very sound of Regulus’ breath. “Let me fly you out here,” he whispered.

“No,” he snapped immediately.

“Why not?” he laughed. “You could come for a long weekend. I’m off work right now.”

“James,” Regulus warned. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I am,” he urged, knowing it was true. That nothing else had ever been clearer. But in the quiet of the call, he could hear that shifting ice. Something in Regulus’ wordlessness that spoke so loud for him. “You’re nervous,” he realized. “You’re nervous to meet me.”

There was only a beat more of silence before Regulus spoke again, no longer that labored honesty, but instead it was back to that cutting, seething irritation. "It's cute how you think you're the only offer on the table,” he hissed. “I have a politician in Seoul wanting to fly me out tonight."

James felt walls reconstructed in a snap, taller than he could ever hope to scale. “Regulus. Please,” he pleaded.

"Mm. I don’t know,” he taunted, with no amusement. Only cruelty. “I don't think you want it bad enough. The politician sounded like he really wanted to see me."

James had to close his eyes, keep his body from giving some sort of conditioned response to the man’s brattiness. Because as enticing as it was at times, he didn’t want it now. “What do you want?” he asked. “Do you want to go meet him in Seoul?”

It wasn’t the right thing to say apparently, only getting Regulus more worked up, “You seem to be forgetting that you are in competition for my attention. It goes to the one who can outbid. Otherwise, I will walk away without hesitation.”

James’ stomach twisted in knots. He couldn’t let Regulus go. Couldn’t give him a reason to walk away. He needed him, however he could have him. “I'll put you up wherever you want,” he blurted out. “I’ll pay for anything, everything. Name your price. Just please let me fly you to Seattle.”

“Send me $30,000 on top of my plane ticket,” Regulus told him. “JFK. I don’t touch LaGuardia.”

“Okay, fine,” James conceded. “JFK, it is.”

“And James?”

“Yes.”

“Remember why I’m coming,” he enunciated clearly. “Because you’re paying me to come.”

James sat with that. Knowing he needed to hear it, to remember that Regulus didn’t care about him. No matter how much he wanted to delude himself into thinking otherwise. “I won’t forget,” he promised.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, all venom, before ending the call and leaving James in another ocean of silence.

Chapter Text

James didn’t sleep. No, the knowledge that Regulus would be in his arms in just a few hours was too much to bear. Made him want to jump out of his skin in a feeling that truly pulled between the greatest elation and the most crushing anxiety he’d ever known. His night was spent combing through every possible hotel in Seattle, looking for the perfect one. He settled on a penthouse suite in the center of downtown, surrounded by the panoramic views of the city. His face and ears going warm at just the photo of the bedroom as his mind flashed with ideas of exactly what they’d be doing in there.

The next morning, as soon as the world opened up, James was running himself to the dry cleaners, getting his favorite suit laundered and steamed to perfection. He got a haircut, a close shave. Anything that would make him feel like the image of perfection that he wanted to be for Regulus, too much pressure hinging on the fact that they had never seen each other before. And while James was confident in his looks, his body, the hours of running and gym time having done something for him, he had no way of anticipating if he would be anything close to what Regulus deemed attractive. And maybe Regulus would have argued that it didn’t matter so much, afterall, the man was being paid whether he liked James or not. But to James, what Regulus thought of him mattered more than anything.

“Did you sleep enough last night?” James had asked as soon as Regulus gave him a call from the airport. He was compulsively cleaning his whole house just as a means to pass the time, to do something productive.

“I did. Dreamed of your dick being twice as big as your ego,” he said, the sound of the airport intercom and traveler chatter just behind his voice.

James laughed, “It wasn’t just a dream.”

“We’ll see about that. I packed a tape measure.”

He was so happy to hear that whatever tension they’d kicked up last night had dispelled right back into the banter that was so achingly them. “You know I’m really excited to see you,” he said, breathless in his honesty. “Can’t stop imagining just how handsome you’re going to be. How I’m going to be able to touch you. It’s driving me insane.”

“You’re so soft, darling. It’s almost cute. But mostly pathetic.”

James couldn’t take his insult seriously when it was layered with such a bright smile in his voice. “You got your boarding pass?”

“Yes, yes. Cleared security and everything. We’re boarding in a few minutes.”

“My driver will be waiting for you when you land,” he told him. “He’s going to bring you to your hotel to meet me.”

“I hope you have somewhere nice picked for dinner. I’ll be starving.”

James smiled wide, “I’m more than confident I can satisfy any craving you have.”

Regulus laughed, “We’re certainly going to find out. I’ll see you soon, James.”

The very reminder made it feel like the floor was dropping out from under him. “See you soon,” he murmured. “Have a good flight.”

Seven hours later, after two near panic attacks and three new chewed hangnails, Pete called James to let him know he had picked Regulus up from the airport and would be heading downtown. James found himself sitting on a couch in the lobby of that opulent hotel. He was watching people walk in, sizing each incoming guest up and feeling his heart seize at the ones who had any hope of being Regulus.

His phone rang in his suit pocket, he rushed for it, assuming it was Pete. “Hello?”

“Hey, man,” Sirius’ voice rang in his ear. “Would you possibly be able to grab some buns on the way here? I’m not saying I burnt the ones I got, but…” There was a distant sound of a smoke alarm going off in the background, Remus coughing up a lung.

James felt his breath clench in his chest. “Sirius,” he groaned. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to tell you, but I can’t make dinner. I already made plans for tonight.”

“Plans?” he questioned, full of doubt. “Some work thing?”

“Uh, yeah. Something like that.”

“That’s probably for the best,” his friend sighed, as Remus in the background asked him to open a window. “Maybe we can meet up tomorrow instead.”

James winced, “Tomorrow doesn’t work either. I’m pretty booked for the rest of the weekend.”

“Oh, okay? Well… I guess you’ll have to tell us next week how it went.”

“Yeah, sure, man. I can-” he raised his eyes to the door. Watching Peter holding it open for someone. “I got to go,” he rushed to his feet, pocketing the phone as he went to button his suit jacket closed. He smoothed down his hair, took an unsteady breath.

James’ eyes went to the black Converse first, they were beat up like they’d been worn for years. Laces frayed and the white rubber a dingy, peeling off-yellow now. There was a pair loose fitting black pants, an oversize hoodie with a sling bag across the body. It all swallowed a lithe frame, sleeves all the way down to the knuckles of ten black painted fingers.

James’ stomach pulled in every direction as he finally worked up the nerve to glance up to his face.

Regulus’ hair was a soft, cool brown, soft curls long enough to sweep against the firm set of his jaw. His skin was that same milky white as his body in his pictures, the faintest spread of freckles dotting his high cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. Everything about him even more lovely than James could have ever imagined. So much so that he had to contain his instinct to stand there studying him forever.

The man’s gaze trailed down the length of James’ body, doubling back to his face. Holding something just behind the deep navy of his eyes, his thick, dark lashes. Whether it was satisfaction or discontent, James could not piece apart. All he could tell was that there was a stillness in Regulus’ chest that wouldn’t move.

“So,” the man finally breathed, tearing his eyes away to look around the lobby. “You’re James’ assistant, I presume?” He collapsed onto the lobby couch, propping his dirty sneakers up onto a glass coffee table and starting to rummage through his bag.

James’ brows lifted higher on his face. “Mm?” he hummed, having assumed he misheard him.

“How long will he be?” Regulus pulled a Nintendo Switch from his bag and started it up. “Enough for a round of Super Smash?”

James stared at him, utterly baffled. “Regulus,” he called, watching the man’s eyes shoot up to him. Something round, timid in them. James couldn’t keep the smile off his face, choking through a laugh, “I’m James.”

Regulus just kept staring, expression unchanging.

“God,” he smiled. “That much better than your imagination, huh?”

Regulus blinked, like a spell breaking. “I’ve seen worse,” he muttered, putting away his Switch and standing back onto two feet. His hoodie had gone all askew on his narrow shoulders.

James couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Stepping closer to him and watching a breath fill the man’s chest. James was a couple of inches taller, enough that he’d have to lean down to meet his mouth. At the very thought, he felt his fingers curling into fists, as just a means to keep them to himself. He held his self-control firmly and reached out, righting Regulus’ hoodie back into its proper place. His eyes raking down his face. “You look good, too,” he smiled, hands melting down his chest and feeling the lean muscle there just under the fabric. “Like really, stupidly, stunningly good.”

“Of course, I do,” he said, like a reflex, looking down at where James was touching him before he looked around the lobby. “Aren’t you worried someone will see you, Mr. High Profile?”

James shook his head. “Could care less actually.”

“If you’re thinking about ravaging me on the marble floors-”

“I wasn't. But I mean, if that’s on the table?” he let the suggestion in his voice linger, searching Regulus’ face for his reaction.

He was eying him carefully. A faint twitch of his lips before he spoke, “We should go over some ground rules.”

James felt a slight panic set his shoulders back, wondering if he had just broken one of them. He pulled his hands away. “Alright.”

Regulus fiddled with the strap of his bag, “I won’t be meeting any friends or family.”

“Absolutely.”

“And I don’t get shown on your social media.”

“Understandable.”

“And I don’t fuck on the first night.”

James bit into his cheek, “At the risk of sounding overeager-

“And failing miserably.”

He tried not to feel the tint of blush in his face. “Can I ask why not?”

Regulus narrowed his eyes, like it was the stupidest question he had ever heard. “Just because I agreed to come here doesn’t mean I’m going to jump into bed with you immediately,” he glared. “I need to know you aren’t going to try and dismember me once you get me alone.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” James huffed, smiling. “The sum of your parts are so much greater as a whole.”

Regulus seemed to try and maintain his glare, but it was cracking under the hint of a smile showing through. “A hole, you say?”

James laughed, too loud probably. Watching it bloom Regulus’ smile. His perfect smile. James wanted to press it between the pages of his memory like a flower. “Any more rules?” he asked, raising a brow.

Regulus shrugged, “Just don’t kiss me.”

James’ smile went stale, then slipped off his face entirely, “Today?”

“Ever,” he said, simply.

“Is this some sort of Pretty Woman joke? Because it needs workshopping.”

“No,” Regulus shook his head. “Not a joke.”

James went quiet, remembering how Regulus wouldn’t kiss him during their phone sex. But he hadn’t taken it too seriously, imagining it was just a careful power play. Realizing that it wasn’t, it was a rule.

“Oh, come on,” Regulus’ shoulders fell. “Why do you look more gutted about that then the sex?”

James blinked, reanimating. His eyes fell to the soft pink of Regulus’ mouth. The slightest upward curve of his cupid’s bow. He ached to know what they’d feel like. “I was just really, really looking forward to kissing you.”

“Should I get back on the plane and go home?”

“No, definitely not,” James shook his head, trying to contain his disappointment. Putting it away for later. “Are you hungry? You said you’d be hungry.”

“Famished.”

He looked down at Regulus' clothes, “Do you want to change?”

“Do you want me to change?” he asked, raising a brow.

“It’s up to you.”

“It’s up to the one paying,” he argued back.

“Regulus. I’m not paying you to be a little pet monkey that I dress up to wear on my arm.”

The man stared up at him, looking like there was another debate just behind his tight mouth. He seemed to swallow it down. “Give me my room key,” he said darkly. “I’m going to change.”

James held himself firm, pulling the key card from his pocket and handing it to him. “I’ll be down here when you’re ready.” And as Regulus walked off, he couldn’t pull his eyes away. He felt so completely entranced, his heart swelling twice as big in his chest.

“Will that be all, Jim?”

James shook himself, turning to meet Peter’s eyes. “Uh, yeah,” he nodded. “Thank you, Pete. I got it from here.”

The man lingered a little closer, holding something tight in his face, “You said he was a donor?”

“Yeah, prospective,” he forced a smile. “I’m taking him around this weekend to see the city.”

“I see,” Peter nodded, his eyes wide with something that James couldn’t pick apart. “Well, call me if you need anything. Otherwise, have a great weekend.”

James looked off to where Regulus was waiting for the elevator. His lopsided hips and dark hair and slummy clothes. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I will.”

When Regulus came down from his room in a finely tailored suit, James decided against complimenting it, not wanting to give any power to the idea that Regulus had to dress a certain way, be a certain way while he was here. Even if the all-black designer number did perfectly contour the long lines of his lean frame in a way that James couldn’t stop staring at throughout the whole four block walk to the restaurant.

“Something wrong?” Regulus asked, looking over at him as he navigated around pedestrians on the sidewalk with all the fluidity of a true New Yorker. “You keep looking at me.

“No,” James shook his head, struggling to keep up. “It’s just… Well. I can’t believe it’s you,” his hand felt nervously at the back of his neck, the short freshly cut hairs.

“The one and only, darling,” Regulus’ eyes floated up to the building overhead.

James followed the line of his gaze, to the staggering, modern skyscrapers that reflected the warm spring sunset over the Sound out of their sight. “Have you been to Seattle before?”

He shook his head, “Irrelevant.”

James’ shoulders fell, “I’m trying to make small talk.”

“Then make it smaller.”

James took a breath, resetting the firm line of his shoulders. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine,” Regulus shrugged. “Although I think that your driver was trying to size me up.”

“I told him you were a prospective donor.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “That’s why he was asking what line of work I’m in.”

James’ brows furrowed, “What did you tell him you do?”

“Flavored lube global ambassador,” he smiled over at him with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Jesus,” James laughed. “Guess who is going to have to unpack that for him?”

“Best of luck on that one.”

“We’re here,” James beckoned to the restaurant coming up on their left, holding the door open for Regulus. They stepped up to the hostess desk. “James Potter,” he told her. “I had a reservation for two.”

The hostess looked down her list. “Ah, yes. Of course, right this way, Mr. Potter.”

“After you,” he signaled to Regulus who followed the woman’s lead, his eyes surveying the dining room as they walked. From James’ place behind him, he could keep watching him. Enchanted by the soft light catching his face, the narrow set of his shoulders. His posture so elegantly poised that James had to remind himself that it was probably the ballet. Because the way he carried himself was as if he had come from generations of wealth.

“James Potter!” someone called as James’ turned with a stir of panic. He spotted someone waving from their table. It was Albus, his neighbor, joined by a few friends. James grit his teeth together, knowing this wasn’t the right time. He looked back to Regulus, mouth falling open. “I’ll…” he struggled. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He hastened across the dining room, coming up to the edge of the older gentlemen’s table. “Good evening,” he smiled, turning on that professional charm. “Lovely to see you here, Albus.”

“We come here every Friday,” the old man grinned.

James looked around to the table, “Are these your friends?”

“Indeed,” he nodded, pointing to each one. “We have Elphias, Gellert, and Garrick. The worst behaved group of friends I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

James laughed, “Well, that must mean they are the most fun as well. Pleasure to meet you all.”

“This is James Potter,” Albus introduced. “My neighbor and likely the most successful man in this whole damn city.”

“Far too kind,” James waved him away.

Albus tilted his head, “And who is joining you tonight, James?”

He felt his expression still on his face, ears going warm. “Me? Oh, um. I’m with-”

“Regulus.”

James turned to his side, watching as the man stood close to him, outstretching his hand towards Albus.

The old man shook it, “Pleasure. Are you Mr. Potter’s… friend?”

“His escort actually,” Regulus smiled.

Albus’ eyes nearly crossed. James felt his whole chest collapse in on itself.

“I’m totally kidding,” Regulus laughed, so effortlessly that after a moment, the table of gentlemen was laughing too. Twice as hard. “We’re old college friends.”

“Ah,” Albus brightened. “You are a Yalie, too then? So was Elphias here.”

“Really?” Regulus smiled down at him. “Unfortunately, I left my ‘Lux Et Veritas’ embroidered kerchief at home.”

The table laughed again. James stood dazed at his side, not having ever anticipated this course of events.

“May I ask what you have there, Gellert?” Regulus leaned closer, looking at the entree in front of him.

“The lamb,” the man said with a slight European flair to his voice.

“Would you recommend it?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded. “Positively divine.”

“Then, I’ll have to try it,” he beamed. He laced his arm around James’ shoulder, “Gentlemen, we won’t take anymore of your time. But have a lovely dinner.”

The two exchanged goodbyes before turning back to their table at the other corner of the room. James couldn’t help but stare at Regulus. Shocked by his behavior. Reeling from the ease in the man’s charm because he knew that speaking with wealthy people was a specific skill set not so easily wielded by most who hadn’t been raised in it.

Regulus had already managed to order a bottle of wine. A glass poured for each of them. He pulled it up to his nose, giving it a swirl and sniff before sipping. “You’re staring again,” he murmured from behind his glass.

James blinked, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect…”

“What?”

“You said you wouldn’t meet my friends.”

“Those weren’t your friends,” he shook his head. “Not really. And you weren’t exactly being the quickest on your feet.”

“I’m sorry,” James grabbed his napkin, unfolding it in his lap. “I just hadn’t-”

“You hadn’t practiced anything?” Regulus raised a brow. “What about the others you’ve hired?”

James’ eyes went still on his face, no words left in his head for a moment. “Regulus,” he lowered his voice under the chatter of the room. “I’ve never done this before. I’ve never… paid anyone for companionship.”

The man stared back at him, expression shadowed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I assumed. When you spoke about your ex-wife-”

“That wasn’t with someone I paid,” James shook his head.

Regulus bit into his lip, looking as apologetic as James imagined he could. “Well, it shows,” he sighed, taking another sip. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“But you clearly do. Where did you learn to talk to people like that?”

He shrugged, “They’re my target demographic.”

James couldn’t argue that. “And you didn’t go to Yale?” he narrowed his eyes.

“Fuck no,” Regulus scoffed.

“Do you know someone who did? I just-”

“James, James, James. Your naivete never ceases to amuse me,” the man leaned his cheek into his hand. “You think you’re the first Ivy League alum I’ve had wrapped around my pinkie like a signet?”

It curled something warm in James’ stomach, the sarcastic lilt of his words, the seductive haze of his eyes. He gnashed his teeth together, looking down at the menu just to cool himself down. “So,” he cleared his throat. “Are you going to get the lamb?”

“Negative,” Regulus said, flicking the menu between his fingers. “I’m a vegetarian.”

James couldn’t help but explode with laughter.

They talked throughout all of dinner. James getting better at leading the conversations into places that he knew Regulus wouldn’t shy away from, getting to the precipice of something that made his handsome face twinge with discomfort before James would back away from it slowly. It wasn’t easy and took his full attention, but it was worth it to see the way the man blossomed. The quippy banter they had over texts and phone was incomparable to that of real life in which James could see the dark glaze of his eyes and tilt of his smirk when he was wielding his razor-sharp wit like the most fluid swordsman James had ever seen. It was addictive, enrapturing, and, as much as he didn’t want to think about it, a massive turn on.

After their dessert plates had been cleared away and Regulus had deemed himself satisfied, they walked back to his hotel under the curtain of darkness. The sidewalks a little quieter this time of night. So close to empty that James let the wine in his blood guide him, reaching out to grab for Regulus’ hand and folding their fingers together.

Regulus eyed the meeting of their hands quizzically.

“Is this okay?” James said, giving him a squeeze.

Regulus met his eyes, holding brightness just beyond them. “I guess so,” he shrugged as they kept walking in silence now. And maybe it should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. It held a comfort and levity that James hadn’t known they could even get to.

When they reached the base of the hotel, James tugged his hand to grab his attention. “Hey,” he whispered, leaning closer to speak in his ear. “Can I take you up to your room?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to-”

“I know you won’t fuck me,” James laughed. “I just want to make sure you get back safe.”

Regulus pulled back slightly to look in his face, assessing something in him carefully. “Fine,” he conceded. “Take me up.”

They walked through the lobby, James keeping his head down. Not wanting to let go of Regulus’ hand, not wanting to be recognized again. No, after an evening of too many intrusions, he would have been perfectly satisfied if no one else in the world existed but them for the rest of the night. They got to the elevator, hitting the penthouse button, and watching the doors close, their murky reflections in the metal.

James’ eyes slid to him, his distinguished profile, his smart suit. He could hardly help himself as he let go of his hand, letting his hands go to his hips to pull him closer. He momentarily expected Regulus to push him away, content when instead he laced his arms around James’ neck and held his stare. A coy little smile twisting at the corner of his mouth.

“How am I doing?” James asked, a low whisper in the space between them.

“Serviceable.”

James laughed, fingers squeezing at his hips. They were so tight, even through the fabric of his suit. He dared to think about how they would feel without it. “Are you sure you don’t want to do anything?”

Regulus’ stare went warmer, his hands at the back of James’ neck cradling him. He drew his face closer, leaning up into him.

James’ eyes fell close, his breath pulled from his chest as he awaited the press of the man’s lips. But it never came. All that was there was the breath against his mouth, warm and wine-soaked.

“You wish,” Regulus whispered, just as the elevator reached their floor with a ding. He peeled himself away, walking into the suite.

Everything in James felt like it had melted into the floor, his frazzled nerves trying to smooth down again. He took a shaky breath as he followed after him.

The penthouse was just as luxurious as it had been pictured, modern and minimalist with warm touches of wood and neutrals. It let the view of the city speak for it, the rolling hills dotted with lit houses that went out in every direction. James tried to imagine the mountains beyond in all their snow capped glory, knowing that they’d be a lovely surprise for Regulus when the sun came up.

Regulus threw his jacket to the couch before taking to the balcony, leaning up against the banister to admire the view.

James came up behind him, admiring his dark hair lifting in the wind, his high shoulders silhouetted by the city lights. The small backwards kick of his hips from how he leaned. He momentarily thought back to that look-a-like on the balcony at the charity gala, running warm from the idea of Regulus’ bare spine exposed for him. James braced his hands on either side of him, putting his cheek to the man’s shoulder and feeling the warmth beneath. The smell of his cool, earthy cologne. He was too good to be real.

Regulus turned in his arms, leaning back over the balcony with his hips kicked forward now. So close that they brushed James’. He held a smirk against his mouth, a light in his eyes.

“I had fun with you tonight,” James told him. “You’re fun.”

“Of course I am,” he huffed through his smile.

James reached up, curling a piece of windblown hair behind his ear. “You are so much better than I could have imagined you,” he said. “And I’m not just talking about this,” he put his fingers to Regulus’ chin, lifting his face and thumbing at his high cheekbone. “But how you talk. How you move. Every little detail is so much more perfect than even my wildest dreams.”

“That’s my job, James,” he chided. “To be the man of your dreams.”

James sighed, needing the gentle reminder that this wasn’t real. No matter how much more real it felt than anything else he’d ever felt. “Then you’re really fucking good at it.”

Regulus stared at him through the darkness, his smile having quieted down to another harder to place expression. A certain roundness of his glimmering eyes, a more slight curl of his mouth. James wanted to kiss him more than anything, rip him apart from the inside. Make a home in him that he never had to leave. It was taking everything in his power to restrain himself.

“So,” he whispered, into the narrow space between their faces. “Now what?”

Regulus’ hands went to James’ shoulders, smoothing down over his chest, his ribs, curving around his hips. The whole time watching his own hands move across him. His teeth wearing against his lower lip. His chest rising and falling with quivering effort.

“I want you to do something for me,” he whispered, meeting his eyes again.

James nodded, “Anything.”

“Come with me,” Regulus said, slipping from his arms and grabbing his hand. He started to drag him back inside the hotel room. To the bedroom where he took a seat on the edge of the bed. Staring up at where James was hovering over him.

James’ eyes went to the pristinely made bed, to Regulus leaning back on his hands. And it all felt so overwhelmingly sexual for someone who wasn’t interested in having sex.

“Take off your clothes,” Regulus commanded.

James’ ears perked, his brows rising higher. He shook his head, “I thought you said you wouldn’t fuck me tonight.”

“I know what I said. Just do it.”

James felt his pulse pound a little louder, a simmering heat trailing down his spine. The suggestion felt dangerous, sinister, especially not knowing where it would lead. But the chance of fucking Regulus was enough to have him nodding. “Alright,” he said, rolling his suit jacket off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Kicking off his shoes, his socks.

He watched as Regulus’ gaze hovered at his throat, where his fingers were manipulating the buttons of his shirt open. Pulling them apart and feeling the heat follow them all the way down. As if it was Regulus’ stare that was doing it. He pulled his shirt away, tossing it to the floor as well.

Regulus took a deep breath, staring up at his chest with far less of a smile now. His blue eyes wider as his tongue wore against his sharp canine, “Keep going.”

James had to muster all of his confidence to start unbuckling his pants, pulling the leather belt and dropping it. His fingers went to the clasp on his waist, undoing it and letting it hang open. Noticing the way Regulus sat forward, eyeing the space between his hip bones with what seemed to be anticipation. It was enough encouragement to have him sliding his pants to his ankles before kicking them into the pile. Standing before Regulus in nothing but his boxer-briefs.

Regulus looked up towards his face. “You aren’t done,” he said. “I want to see all of you.”

James’ breath stuttered in his chest, taking his time to remove the last item. Standing stark naked in front of Regulus who was still fully clothed. Feeling the man’s eyes paint over him just as warm as if it had been his touch, exciting him. Emboldening him.

“Are you eating your words?” James asked.

Regulus looked back up to his eyes. “You wish.”

James’ smile pulled at one side of his face. He looked down at his toned muscles, his tan skin, his sizable cock. He let his hands run down his frame, watching Regulus’ eyes follow. “It wouldn’t kill you to admit I look good.”

“It might.”

James huffed under his breath. Further emboldened until he was stepping forward. Approaching Regulus at the edge of the bed. He stood over him, taking his chin in the palm of his hand. Raising it up to meet his eyes. “You act so mean and scary, don’t you?” he whispered. “Is it just a passive reflex?”

“It’s a talent actually,” he said, smiling proudly. “It’s taken me years to become so expertly insolent.”

James mirrored his smile, wondering how far he could push this. Could he draw Regulus’ mouth forward? Let his cock slip between his gorgeous, unkissable lips? He wanted to try. He wanted to be a little insolent too.

“Maybe,” he said, letting his hand slide back to Regulus’ neck. “You should let someone else take control every once in a while.”

The man’s eyes looked up at him, a bob in his throat when he swallowed. He looked pretty, needy. Like he might crack under the pressure. But in a single blink, that was all gone. And all that was left was snarky indifference. Regulus pushed James’ hand off his neck, getting up and swerving away from him. He grabbed the pile of James’ clothes off the floor, starting to walk away.

“Hey,” James called after him, following behind. “What are you doing?”

Regulus didn’t answer, just took that pile of clothes out onto the balcony and promptly threw them over the edge.

“No!” James lunged forward, trying to snap them back into his hand, but it was too late. He could see them catching the lights of the hotel, spiraling and shifting in the wind as they spun down at least thirty floors. He stared flabbergasted at them, turning towards Regulus who was already brushing past him to go back inside. He pursued him, catching him the living room and grabbing at his arm, “Why the fuck would you-”

Regulus twisted out of his grasp, looking back at him with a sneer. “Don’t forget who is in control here, James.”

James blinked, not understanding the shift in tone. “Did you really have to-”

“I’m the one who can walk away anytime I want. I don’t need you. You’re the one who needs me,” he bit out. “Is that clear?”

James fell back a step, overwhelmed by the sudden temper. Staring back at Regulus with wounded eyes, shoulders caving together. “Yeah,” he choked out faintly. “Crystal.”

Regulus blinked, seeming to break from whatever rage had a hold on him. He ran his hands through his hair, breathing heavily. “Maybe you should just go home, James,” he told him, no longer angry. But also not remorseful either. If anything, there was a tint of hopelessness in it. “Maybe we should just see each other tomorrow.”

James watched as he started rooting around in his luggage. Standing over him, trying to understand. “Well, that’s fine. But you tossed my clothes. How am I supposed to leave now?”

Regulus pulled out a pair of headphones, putting them over his ears. “That’s not my problem,” he said without looking at him as he took off towards the bedroom.

James watched him collapse back onto the bed, starting to play his music so loud that it was screaming from the headphones. He couldn’t get it, what had flicked his switch and turned him so immature. And sure, maybe he’d pushed similar buttons over the phone, but it was so much more alarming in person.

He sighed, going to find a hotel robe and slippers in the closet before he called the elevator. Knowing it was going to be a weird ride home.

Chapter Text

The next morning, James woke from a frightful dream in which Regulus was already gone by sunrise, having taken the first plane back east in the morning. It had gripped him with such a panic upon waking that, breathless and spiraling, he had grabbed for whatever he could, jeans and a t-shirt, before taking off for the hotel. He only breathed normally again once he was standing in front of the lobby desk, hearing that no one had yet checked-out of the penthouse room. He thanked them, spending the next half hour pacing the marble floors as the rising sunlight moved in stripes across it. He kept checking his watch, wondering when Regulus would come down or call him or something. His extra key card was burning a whole through his pocket, but he didn’t want to barge in. Afterall, Regulus had asked for space.

But of course, it was eventually James who reached out.

I’m in the lobby. He texted, finding the words only after a million deletes and restarts. Would it be okay if I came up?

It was ten minutes before he got a reply.

Sure.

His heart pounded in his chest the whole way up, having had all night to think about what to say, how to proceed, but still feeling totally out of his depth. Everything about Regulus was selectively curated unpredictably, it was a careful waltz of chaos that kept anyone from seeing his full hand. James was coming to learn that now and he hated how thrilling he found it. How it only made the man more endearing, a tangle of poor intentions that he wanted to pull apart to see what was at his middle.

When the door to the penthouse slid open, the whole suite was so quiet James could have heard a pin drop. The sweeping view across the mountains, of the glistening Sound below was gorgeous, but he couldn’t devote any attention to it. Instead, checking the living room, then the bedroom for Regulus.

He found him still in bed. His bare back exposed to the soft golden light coming in. Moles so dark James could have traced constellations between them. He was momentarily stopped by the view in the doorway, taking it all in. Letting the peace sink deep enough to ease the panic, before he toed off his sneakers and slid under the sheets.

He half expected another protest, a glare or a snap as he settled against the pillows next to him, but Regulus was quiet. Both of them lay side by side in a moment of stillness, until Regulus was dragging himself up onto James’ chest. His face pressed into the crux of his neck, curled up small in his arms. James let his hand smooth down the man’s back, feeling the jut of his shoulder blades, the tender softness of his pale skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, feeling something misty in his eyes.

Regulus was still, quiet. Burying himself into James’ side. Tangling their legs together where he was only wearing his underwear.

James swallowed. “I evidently made you uncomfortable. Crossed a boundary,” he told him. “I won’t do it again. If you want to lay the path, I’ll diligently follow.”

Regulus raised his head, looking over James’ face with a trace of sleepiness still furrowed between his brows.

James wanted to kiss him there, wondering absentmindedly if that was allowed. He decided against it just in case.

“What are we going to do today?” Regulus asked, throat gritty.

James’ smiled unconsciously, feeling last night fade away from his memory. Outshined by the potential for more. “You tell me.”

Regulus looked down to his chest, tracing it with the tip of his finger. The smallest twistings of a smile hiding. “Breakfast. Somewhere where we can see the water.”

James beamed down at him. “I know just the place.”

The weather was perfect. A cloudless clear sky and just enough cool in the air to keep them from sweating as they stood on the edge of the West Seattle Ferry, watching the water beneath curl white in the large ship's wake. The view of Seattle’s skyline was fading away further into the distance as they moved, other passengers roaming the deck to take pictures and enjoy the sights of the Sound.

Regulus’ dark sunglasses were shading his eyes as they swept across the skyline. “Why did you move here again?” he asked, leaning against the railing.

“I met my two best friends in college. We decided that at the end of our senior year, whoever accepted their first job offer would dictate where we all moved.”

He raised a brow, “Was it you then?”

“No, actually,” James smiled. “It was one of them. He’s a social work professor at the university here. And him and my other best friend are married, Lily and I were married. It made sense.”

“So, you’re a bit of a third wheel since the divorce?”

“A bit,” he shrugged. “But they never make me feel that way. When I moved here, I didn’t have a clue what I would do. But then I saw the amount of youths on the streets, found out about the lack of resources dedicated to them. It wasn’t just an equity issue, but a safety issue for these kids who had to try and navigate through services designed for adults. I knew they needed more, so I started our organization.”

“Must have been just a snap of your fingers, right? All that generational wealth of yours.”

“My family’s money was a huge advantage. I would never deny that,” he admitted. “But there was a fair amount of work involved as well. Starting with something like five employees in a rented space. But now, eight years later, we have our own offices, dozens of employees. We’ve helped thousands of kids across the country.”

“And you like it here?” Regulus asked. “More than just your friends, your work.”

James looked at the hills and mountains stacked in layers across the Sound. Deeply considering it. “Seattle gets a lot of shit,” he confessed. “Mostly for the dark winters of the endless rain. And those are tough for anyone who moves here.” He looked over watching Regulus’ chin leaned onto the railing, his sunglasses were slipping down the bridge of his nose. Exposing his navy blue eyes that weren’t far off from the saltwater below. “But the people are private, respectful. They give you space. They don’t meddle. Nothing like the east coast where your neighbor would readily sell your life story on the streets if it meant a few extra dollars in their pocket.”

Regulus smirked, “We’re cut throat, untrusting. But it works for us.”

James watched him, realizing that those differences were well mirrored in both of them. “I can see that.”

Regulus pushed up the sunglasses to shield his eyes, like perhaps he was feeling a bit too exposed. “I’m not nice and you still like me,” he said, turning to face him. “What was it you said? ‘I just like you so much, Seeker?’”

James winced at the thought of his own drunken shamelessness. “I like Regulus better.”

The man huffed, rolling his eyes beneath his glasses as he turned back to the view. His posture suddenly shifted, standing up straighter, “Did you see that?”

“See what?” James asked, tracing his eyes across the waves.

“Look over there,” Regulus pointed.

James tried to follow his gaze, “Where?”

Regulus groaned, coming closer and pressing his side into James. Their cheeks pressing together as he directed his head. “Right there, do you see it?”

James felt his face go flushed at the feeling of Regulus’ face against his, the softness of his skin. He’d only have to slightly twist his head to be kissing him. He buried the thought, readjusting his eyes to the waves instead and seeing a shiny black fin standing straight above the water for a moment before it dove back down. Another smaller one following. “The J-Pod,” he murmured.

“The what?” Regulus turned to look at him, suddenly far too close now. Intertwined in his arms.

James was pleased when he didn’t move, letting his arm sling around Regulus’ hip to point them out again. “The J-Pod,” he explained “They are a family of orca whales that are native all throughout the Pacific Northwest. They only come this far south for a few months in the summer. Extremely endangered and extremely rare.”

“How rare?” Regulus asked, watching them carefully as a few more tourists on the ferry started to shout out and spot them. Flooding over with a flurry of gasps and camera snaps.

James beckoned to them, “These people are excited to see them. Because they’ll probably never see them again.”

“Hm,” Regulus hummed behind his smirk. “It must be all the luck I radiate.”

James laughed, leaning down to talk low in his ear, “I was hoping to be lucked out of my mind tonight.”

Regulus snorted, pushing a hand against his chest as he broke out into a loud cackle. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “That was awful, James Potter. Absolutely awful. You and these dilf jokes need to be taken out back and shot.”

“Dilf jokes?”

“Yeah,” the man tried to contain his laugh between the back of his hand. “Like dad jokes. But raunchier.”

James’ eyebrow raised, “So you think I’m a dilf?”

“Oh, god,” Regulus scoffed. “Not what I meant.”

“Mhm, sure,” James taunted. “I mean, I might not be a dilf yet. But you can still call me daddy.”

“You’re awful. You know that? Truly sickening.”

James shrugged, holding the suggestive smirk on his face, “I can be worse.”

Regulus’ teeth wore against his lower lip. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he nodded.

“I can’t believe you,” Regulus shook his head, cutting into a thick stack of pancakes. “Oysters? Seriously?”

James looked at the circular plate in front of him, squeezing his lemon across the shelled beauties. “What’s wrong with oysters?”

Regulus took a hefty bite of his pancakes, talking through a full mouth as he pointed a knife at him. “Oysters are barely food. And they certainly aren’t breakfast food.”

“Says the child consuming an inhuman amount of sweets at the start of his day.”

“Days should start with sweets and end with sweets. It’s the way nature intended.”

“Well actually,” James noted. “Oysters are an aphrodisiac. So I would argue that I have nature on my side.”

Regulus swallowed down his food, sitting back in his booth and grabbing his mimosa, “Maybe we should test that.”

Before James could ask what he meant, he felt the toe of Regulus’ sneaker drifting up the leg of his jeans. He felt the air pull from his lungs, keeping his eyes hyperfocused on Regulus as he took a long sip from his drink. He could feel his shoe working up his thigh now, parting his legs.

“Stop,” James warned darkly.

Regulus smirked, dragging that foot into his lap and pressing into James. Smirk only getting wider when he saw the stuttering breath shake James’ shoulders. James could feel the firm pressure, edged on by Regulus’ handsome, taunting face. His cock twitched under the man’s toes, awakening a quickened pulse. Mind tumbling down a series of increasingly erotic thoughts as he looked down to Regulus’ chest, remembering the way his skin had felt in his hands that morning.

“Right now?” James asked, trying to keep the pleading from his voice.

Regulus’ foot suddenly lifted, pulling away and leaving him empty. “No,” he shook his head, a glint of mockery in his eyes. “Not right now.”

James felt the blood rush back to where the pressure had alleviated. Aching for more. “Then when?”

“When I want,” he said with a slight raise of his brow. “Got it?”

James grit his teeth together, knowing this was exactly the taunting that Regulus had readied him for. Knowing he was being edged. Knowing it would make getting so much more worth it. “Got it,” he nodded.

As soon as they left breakfast, the street spilled out onto a long paved pathway that curved along the coast. And Regulus had a new objective stemming from an electric scooter racing past them towards the beach. “I want to do that,” he told James, pointing up ahead to where they were speeding.

“You want to rent a scooter?” James’ eyes widened in surprise.

“Did I stutter?” Regulus scoffed, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together. “Let’s go.”

They managed to get the last one in their inventory that wasn’t in use. A bright gold and burgundy with racing stripes down the side. James was trying to listen as the staff explained the controls, but it was hard when Regulus was gathering up his hair and tying it off to fit inside his green helmet. He wondered why he didn’t wear it like that more often since it showed off his jawline and the slope of his shoulders so nicely.

“You want to drive?” James offered as soon as they were handed the keys.

“Bold of you to think the New Yorker can drive,” he said, handing James his helmet.

He smiled, remembering Sirius had the same problem up until a couple of years ago when Remus finally made him learn. “Alright,” he nodded. “Hop on.” He straddled the bike, looking over his shoulder as Regulus got on behind him.

“I know you are holding onto some dilf joke about me putting my arms around you, but if you could refrain from saying it,” he winced sarcastically as he laced his hands over James’ middle. “I’m sure it is hilarious.”

James laughed, “So, nothing about holding onto something-”

“Like I said!” Regulus knocked his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s hilarious.”

James set the ignition to on and pressed the brake to start it up, taking them off down the road that paralleled the rocky coast of the peninsula. There were seagulls cawing far off, roller skaters weaving along the side way. It reminded him of vacations to Los Angeles when he was younger.

Regulus tucked his chin onto the hook of James’ shoulders, speaking in his ear above the roar of wind and whine of engine, “Where are we going?”

“There’s a lighthouse up the beach,” he told him, keeping his eyes on the road. “I could take us there if you’d like?”

He could feel the nod of Regulus’ head against his shoulder, twisting the ignition a bit faster to power up the inclining road. Once they had cleared the hill, the pedestrians seemed to thin, the noise distant. It was quiet up here above the rest of the beach where a lighthouse stood watching over the landscape. They parked the scooter outside, walking up to the wet rocks at the base of the lighthouse that met the frothing waves below.

“Come on,” James offered his hand. “Can’t have you slipping.”

Regulus gave a slight roll of his eyes as he took it, letting himself be carefully led over the rocks until they reached the perfect vacant spot where they could sit and admire the water. Not that James could do much of this, instead letting his gaze pull away to Regulus beside him. Seeing the waves reflected in the lens of his sunglasses, the sun bringing out his freckles just a touch more, the press of their sides with no room left between them. Cherishing the relaxed slump of the man’s shoulders where he sat like maybe James had finally put him in a place where he could just breathe.

James’ lip caught between his teeth, hesitating around his next words. Not wanting to break the serenity. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Within reason,” Regulus nodded behind his sunglasses.

“Could you tell me something else about yourself?”

“Unreasonable.”

James felt his lower lip pout forward, “Seriously?”

Regulus looked over at him, a slight scoff behind his smile before he took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you what. You can ask me questions. If I don’t want to answer, I’ll just lie.”

James fiddled with the frayed knee of his jeans, hoping to carefully curate his questions to slowly open Regulus up like a shy flower. “What is your favorite thing about your career?”

“The money,” the man said smugly, tipping his head back to catch the sun’s rays.

James shook his head, “That has to be a lie.”

He shrugged. “You asked.”

“What are you even doing with all that money? What could it possibly mean to you?”

“It means freedom,” he argued. “I buy the clothes I like, the games I want to play, the food I’m in the mood for. I pay for my amazing apartment in the perfect neighborhood. Take my friends out to lunch-”

“So you do have friends?” James’ eyes widened. “Not just clients?”

Regulus glared at him. “I have friends.”

“What do they think of what you do? Do they even know?”

“They know. Some of them do it too.”

“And your parents? They must be clutching their pearls at the idea of their baby being desecrated by all these strange men.”

“Please. If anything, I’m doing the desecrating,” Regulus laughed.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He met his eyes more purposefully. “My parents don’t know. They don’t need to know. They would probably just lament the fact that I’m not the businessman they wanted me to be.”

“I don’t know about that,” James huffed. “Kind of sounds like you’re exactly the businessman they’d want you to be.”

Regulus didn’t respond with words, just a small self-assured grin across his face.

James celebrated it like a success. “Can I ask something else?”

“Try it. You’re on a roll,” Regulus laughed.

The question danced on the tip of his tongue dangerously, like the pin of a grenade about to be pulled. “Why won’t you kiss me?”

Regulus darkened nearly imperceptibly, the tone between them shadowing. Taking his time to answer. “It’s not just you,” he said, as if to assure him. “It’s any client.”

“Why not?”

“I deserve to keep something for myself. Something sacred that they can’t have. Something that I only give to the people I want to kiss, the ones who don’t pay me for it.”

“Fair, but do you mean to tell me you’ve never been even remotely attracted to a client? You’ve never wanted to kiss them? Not for them, but for you?”

“No,” he said surely. “Never.”

James clutched his heart in his chest, “My fragile ego. You’ve broken it.”

Regulus laughed, pushing dark curls off his face, “It will heal.”

James watched his profile as he stared off at the sea, smiling to himself. He laced an arm around the man’s shoulder, pulling him closer into his side. And they stayed like that, existing in the silence for as long as they could. Until the tide was coming in so high that it touched their toes.

They spent the ferry back inside the ship, sitting at the wide windows and watching the sun setting over the Sound. They were halfway through the ride when James felt his shoulder go heavier. He looked over to see Regulus’ temple collapsed onto him. His eyes closed for a moment before the blinked back open, dazed and awake.

“Sorry,” he murmured, sitting up straighter.

“It’s okay,” James touched his knee. “You can take a little snooze on me.”

Regulus looked uncomfortable, leaning himself away from James as he shook his head, “No, I’m fine. I’m up.”

It wasn’t convincing. James faced him, watching the golden light play across his face. “Did you sleep okay last night?”

“Yeah,” the boy nodded, though a yawn in his chest seemed to betray him. “Slept great.”

James didn’t press him on it, not wanting to remind them of last night.

“What do you want to do when we get back?” he asked, letting his knuckles brush up against the edge of Regulus’ leg. “Maybe grab some dinner?”

He seemed to have his eyes train on the faintest bit of contact between them. “Do you cook, James?”

He furrowed a brow, “Yeah, I can cook.”

“Then I want you to cook me dinner.”

James smiled, “So you want to see my house?”

Regulus’ brows furrowed, “That isn’t what I said.”

“Then where would you want me to cook for you?”

He looked caught, rolling his eyes. “I mean if it has to be at your house,” he shrugged.

James laughed, reaching over to properly take his hand, squeeze it between his own. Satisfied when Regulus didn’t pull away.

The drive home was dark, quiet. A smile lingering in the silence as just how relaxing the day had turned out. No crossed boundaries, no fights. It was everything James had wanted and more. And when they got home, James showed him the house, not letting himself be too disappointed when Regulus seemed hardly impressed. Afterall, he had probably seen bigger, better. But perhaps that didn’t mean that he didn’t like it.

James wasn’t prepared to cook, but he managed to scrape together enough to make a fairly decent vegetarian meal for the both of them. They enjoyed it on the balcony, the lights of the city in the distance as they talked relaxed. About silly things like James' worst encounters with insane donors, Regulus’ worst encounters with insane clients, even offering a hilarious story about a Hollywood actor with a particular devotion to Regulus’ feet. Though James couldn’t get out of him exactly who it was.

Their plates were empty when a dark shadow suddenly jumped up onto James’ balcony railing, walking along it with expert balance. It took him a moment of adjusting his eyes to realize what it was. “Cat,” he whined. “How did you even get up here?”

“Oh hello,” Regulus stood up, coming over to give the tabby a pet. “Who might you be?”

“She belongs to my neighbor,” James noted, coming up behind him to scratch at her tail. “Quite the adventurer these days.”

Regulus pulled at the metal tag around her neck, shining it in the faint lights. “It just says cat.”

“Her owner is quite literal,” James offered. “Do you like animals?”

Regulus shrugged, “My parents never let us have pets growing up. But I would have liked one. A cat. A snake. Something.”

“Us?” James raised a brow. “You had siblings?”

Regulus sealed his mouth tightly, looking displeased with himself. “Yes,” he said simply, enough firmness there to imply a boundary.

James respected it. Cat jumped down from the balcony, into the shadowed ether of his backyard. “Come on,” he said, starting to grab both of their plates. “I’ll wash these dishes and then I can take you back to the hotel.”

Regulus followed him inside, closing the balcony door behind them.

James went to the sink, staring the water and picking up a loose fork to start scrubbing it.

“James.”

He turned, looking at Regulus over his shoulder. He was leaning against the edge of the island, head tilted as he watched him at the sink. A wicked shine in his eyes as he crooked his finger. “Come here,” he murmured.

Just the tone of it had James dropping the utensil in his hands, turning off the water and wiping his wet hands against his jeans. The anticipation of what might be coming pulled him apart from the inside as he dared to approach. He let his hands go to the man’s hips, gripping them to feel the lean muscle beneath.

“James, darling,” Regulus smirked. “I was thinking that perhaps I would allow you to fuck me. What do you think?”

He swallowed through a suddenly dry throat. He nodded, “I think that’s a great idea.”

“I don’t know,” The man sighed, petulantly. His finger tracing into James’ shirt. “Do you think you deserve it?”

He let his eyes trace down the length of Regulus’ body, thrumming with want. “I don’t deserve you,” he admitted breathlessly. “But if you let me have you, I would be so good for you. Try so hard for you.”

Regulus’ smile twisted up, bright eyes gleaming. “Good answer,” he said, biting into his lip. “Now, prove it.”

James smiled, all that emotion that had been sinking into his stomach resurfacing like a balloon filling with air. Lifting higher up into his chest, so big he felt like it might burst. He let his fingers trace up the edge of the man’s jaw, hovering so close that he was nearly kissing him. Imagining it over and over again like it was some wild fantasy. But he could see Regulus’ navy eyes shining back, they held trust. Trust that James wouldn’t try and do it. And it made him want to respect that line in the sand just to prove he could.

James pressed Regulus more firmly into the island, pinning him with the meeting of their hips. Their bodies drew impossibly close, perfectly complementing each other’s curves, meeting all the contours. Both of them breathing heavy as he watched the vividness of Regulus’ stare intensify. Smirk pulling at the man’s handsome mouth, leaving no question about what he wanted. James ran hot with want, needing to bury it somewhere. Pulling Regulus in by his t-shirt as his teeth found the crux of the man’s pretty neck, devouring the skin there and hearing the weakened sound it pulled from his mouth. So much better than any overplayed recording in James’ phone.

Regulus’s hand snuck upwards from James’ chest, up his collarbones, his neck. Fingers wrapping around the nape gingerly before gripping in tight, pushing James down until he was falling onto his knees in front of him.

James opened his eyes, looking up at Regulus and seeing the devious glint in his stare, the firm line in his jeans. He felt his heartbeat go wild in his ears, felt the rush of blood everywhere especially between his legs. Watching as Regulus’s hand came down, smoothing against his cheek and under his chin. His thumb came up, brushing against James’s lower lip and peaking into his mouth. James shuddered, hands climbing up Regulus’s thighs to grab onto any piece of him he would offer.

James pushed up against Regulus’s hard cock with the palm of his hand, guided along the shape of it. His fingers dug into the hem of Regulus’s t-shirt, whimpering around his thumb.

Regulus smiled, reaching down to strip it off and toss it elsewhere. Leaving his immaculate skin on display.

James had nothing but eagerness left in him as he clutched at the rest of Regulus’s clothing, clawing it off his frame like something wild. Watching as his whole perfect body stretched out above him. His for the taking. His hand went to grip Regulus’s cock, guiding it into his salivating mouth.

“Shit,” Regulus hissed, eyes falling closed for a moment before he refocused them on James’s mouth. Watching as he started to roll his hips up, trying to get deeper.

James’s eyes widened as he felt him slide down his tongue, mouth feeling fuller than it had in a long time. He tried to keep their gazes locked, but when Regulus rolled up once more, even deeper this time, he felt the tears well up in his eyes. He looked up into Regulus’s face, discouragement bleeding into his features.

“That’s it,” Regulus soothed, hand coming up to James’s face again. It slipped to the nape of his neck, drawing him closer. “I know you can take me,” he murmured, timbre rough.

James felt the depth of his voice run down his spine, filling him determination as he guided Regulus’s cock into his mouth again. He sunk down onto it, bobbing along his shaft until he was going deeper. Relaxing his throat to take in more, eager to please him.

“Fuck,” Regulus whispered, petting his hair. “Knew you had it in you, darling.”

James’s cheeks burned with praise as he kept going. Slide easing with each wet motion, getting sloppy as the taste of precum spilled against his tongue. James cried out around him.

“Yeah?” Regulus smirked. “Do you like feasting on my cock?”

And he couldn’t deny it, nodding his head and whimpering as he kept going. He felt Regulus’s thighs quiver, some measure of success that continued encouraging him. Increasing his speed, his finesse until he could feel the moans in Regulus’s mouth making his cheeks go warm again. He felt himself reach up, hands going to Regulus’s hips again and gripping in firm. Pulling his mouth away as he spun Regulus towards the counter, pushing him up against it.

“James,” Regulus groaned. “What are you-”

James dipped down, tongue not hesitating to trace at Regulus’s rim.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed immediately, hands grasping for the marble edge.

James smiled, not stopping as he started placing kitten licks at Regulus’s entrance. Feeling it slicken from the mix in his mouth. Here, at the base of Regulus’s spine, he felt every spastic movement of his muscles. The way it had him nearly grinding down against James’s tongue, the sounds from his mouth going more lewd as he kept his death grip on the counter’s edge.

James laid the flat of his tongue over Regulus, watching his shoulder blades move beautifully beneath his skin. He pulled away, sticking fingers into his mouth before tracing them against Regulus’s rim again. Teasingly prodding one in.

Regulus moaned loud, nearly doubling over the counter. His legs quivering, taking great effort to keep himself standing.

James delighted in it, the fuzzy line in their power exchange blurring momentarily. So much so that he lost that teasing edge and sunk his finger deep into Regulus. Watching as he nearly lost it, body trembling at his touch. James worked into him, feeling him ease into it little by little. Every thrust just a little bit deeper, slicker, steadier. Which just left James sliding another one in, watching the cycle repeat itself all over again.

He returned his mouth there, licking alongside his fingers. Drizzling them wetter and easing their slide until Regulus was pushing into it. Keen for it.

“Okay,” Regulus panted, peeking back at him with the hazed blue of his eyes. “You’ve earned me.”

“You sure?” James asked, kissing gently at his cheeks as he twisted his fingers again.

Regulus moaned, fist pounding the counter. “James,” he gasped. “I swear if you dont-”

James rose to his feet, pulling off his shirt and coming close. He kissed at Regulus’s shoulders, his neck, his ear, feeling the man pressing back into him. The desperate need for him spiraling, leaving James overwhelmed. Not sure how he had been able to break him down to this, but not complaining. He peeled apart his button fly, cock pulled out, feeling how hard and patient he had managed to be. He brushed himself up against Regulus’s ass, hearing the whine he emitted and not knowing when he should finally indulge him.

But Regulus had other plans, reaching back and grabbing James’s cock. He rocked up unto his toes, leaning into the island to guide it past his rim.

James groaned, feeling Regulus’s walls press down on him. He leaned his forehead into Regulus’s dewy shoulder, hands against the cool marble as he tried to center himself. Ignoring the persistent little rock of Regulus’s hips down onto him, trying to take anything he could. And god, he was greedy and controlling and James couldn't help but love it. He thrusted into him, feeling him balancing on tiptoes.

James’s fingers went back to Regulus’s hips, gripping in harder this time as he held him firm. Thrusting into him with a steadier pulse than his own. Feeling every little beautiful thing about Regulus’s body hug him. Leaning up to kiss his neck, sink his teeth in.

“Shit,” Regulus breathed, exasperated as he seemed to crawl higher up the counter. Falling back onto James’s cock with the full weight of his body, just to be kicked up again. “Don’t even think about stopping.”

James pulled out, turning the man’s hips between his hands again to face him.

“What did I say?” Regulus snapped, meeting his eyes with a glare.

James burned hot from the look alone, the firm words in his ears. He let his hands work up under Regulus’s ass before lifting him up onto the counter. He clumsily slid back into him, throwing all his weight into it enough to stifle Regulus’ hips. He felt the man’s legs open wider for him, his arms lace up around his neck. Becoming so unbelievably obsessed that James couldn’t manage a thought outside of Regulus and the fatally satisfying feeling of his body.

James leaned his face close, forehead pressing into Regulus’ temple. Inches from his mouth, he hovered, soaking in the man’s hot breath. The groans in his filthy mouth. James’ hands gripped his hips harder, sawing through him with the utmost intensity.

“You going to listen to me?” Regulus murmured into the space between. “Cum when I allow you?”

James nodded, dewy skin sliding. His whole body going tense at just the devastating idea that he couldn’t approach his climax freely, that he had to be granted it. And he knew he could be good, he knew he could earn that too.

“Touch me, James,” Regulus commanded, and James’ hand was immediately closing around the man’s leaking cock. Fisting him with the same power of his thrusts and feeling his body react, taut under the thin surface of his bone white skin. The way he arched up into James, nearly twisting his hips against him.

Regulus gripped James’ chin firmly, pulling back to meet his eyes. His gaze stony as his words bit out, “You’re going to make me cum first. Me first every time, got it?”

James nodded emphatically, half entranced by the suggestion of more than once. Having to keep his hips from leveraging harder, remembering he had to hold on. His hand doubled its efforts, watching the tremble it elicited from the man’s chest. He could see it happening slowly, in the softened space between the man’s brows. The increasingly glazed look in his eyes. His pretty lips falling open quiet like a sound trapped in his throat.

“Fuck,” he finally choked out when his body gave in, shuddering through it as he spilled down James’ hand. Seeping into the spaces between his knuckles in a visual James would have probably preferred framed and hung up on his wall. His lean frame went limp momentarily before the glaze in his eyes seemed to clear in a blink, sitting taller as he kept his steely gaze set on James.

Regulus reached down, swiping two fingers through the mess on his stomach, James’ hand, before he lifted it to James’ mouth. He forced his way in, letting those fingers brush firmly against his tongue. “What do you think, darling?” he said, watching his fingers root around in James’ mouth. “Should I let you have this?”

James’ whimpered around his fingers, nodding again as he felt everything in him cave. Wanting to cry from the depth of his want, from the tension between climaxing and never letting this end.

“You have to tell me,” Regulus whispered, pulling his fingers’ from the man’s mouth and gripping his chin firmly in his hand. “Beg for it.”

James winced, something in the low of his stomach twisting up so tense that he nearly spilled, but he had to use iron will to hold himself firm. “Please,” he pleaded weakly. “Please, let me cum. I’ve been so good. So good to you.”

Regulus laughed, so sinister and callous as he let those fingers of his trace his lips. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Might just deny you for the hell of it.”

James watched it, obsessed. As if it was just as good as kissing him, as if it was better. “Please don’t,” he choked. “Please. I’ll do anything. Give you anything, everything.”

“You sure?” Regulus tilted his head, a devilish glint in his eye.

James could feel his throbbing cock still inside him, begging to move, but he couldn’t. Knowing he would spill before he was allowed. Feeling the pulse of Regulus around him like it was egging him on as well. “Please, Regulus,” he nearly sobbed. “Please.”

The man laughed at his expense. “Very well,” he sighed. “You brainless fuck. Get it over with.”

James whimpered, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood as he let his hips move again. Dragging against Regulus’ insides and feeling everything there so slick. It barely took three strokes before it was just the right brush of friction to have James spilling over, choking up around his breath as he watched Regulus watch him like the most intriguing little show.

He felt his hips slow, his body slump, lowering Regulus to the floor, letting him get his footing again. He dragged his hands through his sweaty hair, groaning again. “How?” he panted, sinking down onto the floor just to sit himself against something cool, stable.

“How what?” Regulus asked, pulling his boxers back on.

James’ head tilted back, falling limp against the cabinets. “How are you so fucking perfect?”

Regulus smirked, squatting down to James’ level and letting a hand trace down his chest, his navel. He squeezed his softening cock, still so sensitive that James’ was nearly doubling over, crying out. “You’re so easy, James,” he murmured through his upturned lips. “I must seem like the second coming to you.”

James tried to catch his breath, pushing down temptation that was threatening to take hold of him again. “Did you say second coming?” he smiled.

Regulus laughed, standing up and hovering over him. “Come on,” he said, offering his hand. “It’s been a long day.”

“Just let me get dressed and grab my keys,” James told him, taking his hand and letting himself be pulled.

Regulus didn’t listen, just walked away, deeper into the house without a word.

James followed him, ready to tell him he was going the wrong way, before he went into his bedroom. James stood in the doorway, watching as Regulus crawled up into his bed. He laid against the pillows, turning back to meet James’ eyes. And it was unspoken, the request there.

James felt something swell in his chest, a breath big enough to fill the depth of his lungs as he watched Regulus. Something inside him kicked with the delusional thought that this is where he belonged. That he would do anything to keep him here. He let those thoughts carry him forward, shucking off his open jeans and crawling up alongside the man. Lacing an arm around his middle to pull him close into the warmth of his body. And without acknowledging it, they fell asleep wrapped up in each other.

Chapter Text

James’ hand was twitching, tingling. As his eyelids fluttered, he could feel it. Skin against skin, the faint ridges of fingertips dragging against his palm. He watched through his half-lidded eyes as Regulus traced shapes into his open hand. Too sleepy to decipher any order or meaning to them. Too entranced by the morning light illuminating the look of intent focus in the man’s face, his eyebrows drawn sharply together in stunning concentration. James tried to memorize the feeling, the sight, knowing he’d be without it by the end of the day. The thought sunk to the bottom of his stomach like a heavy stone. Sobering every love drunk impulse to push the man onto his back and kiss him silly.

Perhaps his breathing had changed, quickening at the thought because Regulus’ eyes suddenly drew up to his face before quickly pulling his hand away. He sighed roughly, “You know it's not cute to pretend you’re asleep.”

James’ smiled through his haze at the sound of his voice. Not through a phone, he had to remind himself. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

James’ gaze sunk down the length of his bare chest, his long legs, his graceful arms. “You look beautiful today.”

“Just today?”

“Especially today,” James said, reaching out to grab his wrist, pull him closer. “Especially here. In my bed.”

“So possessive,” he huffed through an unwilling smile as he fell into James’ chest, not fighting against it.

James kissed into the messy dark curls on his head, arms tightening around his lithe frame. He nuzzled into the crux of his elegant neck until Regulus was laughing. “You smell so good,” he whispered. “Like the perfect mix of me and you.”

“I should shower the you part off.”

“You cruel, heartless thing,” James whimpered in mock hurt.

He winked, “You forgot gorgeous.”

James definitely couldn’t forget that. He sighed loud. “Go then. Help yourself to the shower,” he beckoned towards the en suite. “I’ll make us coffee. How do you like yours?”

“Black, two sugars.” He pulled away, getting up from the bed and stretching out the taut knots in his spine. His boxers were sitting askew on his hips, exposing lower back dimples. Worlds better than any picture in James’ phone that he could jack off to in his private moments. Better knowing his face, his smell, the feeling of his skin. The sound of his voice when talking about absolutely anything. He was overwhelmingly perfect.

Regulus looked over his shoulder, catching James’ eyes again. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re staring,” he laughed. “With those big brown eyes of yours. Maybe you really do need those glasses.”

James felt the upward pull of his mouth, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “Did you just compliment my eyes?”

He scoffed, “Definitely not.”

“It sure sounded like a compliment.”

“Mm,” Regulus hummed. “Blind and deaf, then.” He headed off towards the bathroom, a whistled tune just under his breath.

James’ whole heart felt twice as large. Threatening to pop. Not quite sure how he was going to wake up tomorrow without him.

He got up, pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he went to the kitchen to make their coffee. Delighted by the feeling of making two cups instead of one. It had been a long time since he had done that. As the coffee brewed, he listened to the comforting hiss of the shower. Loving the idea of Regulus in his home, his bed. Using his amenities like they were an extension of his own.

When the coffee was ready, he took it to the bedroom, noting the hiss of the shower had fallen silent. He peeked into the bathroom, not finding Regulus. Then the bedroom was empty too. James’ brows furrowed in confusion until he heard a noise. It was coming from his closet, a noise that he would never mistake.

When he walked into the closet, he nearly dropped the coffee mugs in his hands. Regulus was sitting in the corner, back against a set of drawers. He was naked, a towel set underneath him like it had fallen open. His head was thrown back against the drawers, eyes closed in pure euphoria as the man touched himself. Fisting his cock with long, languid strokes. Soft little whimpers slipping out of his mouth.

James was immediately speechless, cheeks going warm as he watched with hazed eyes. He felt his way around for the wall, sinking down into the opposite corner. The coffee mugs suddenly long forgotten where he had mindlessly put them down against the floor. He kept his eyes intently focused on Regulus, like a front row seat for a video he would have paid thousands for. Except now, he could see his face, the faint dew across his temples as he raked a hand through his dark curls, moaning a little louder as his hand squeezed down on himself.

James kept watching, enchanted by it all happening. He briefly looked down, seeing the prominent line in his own sweatpants. He passively let his palm run against it, curling around the shape carefully.

Regulus looked at him, eyes sinking down the length of his body and holding at where he was cradling his clothed cock. He smiled, sinister canines flashing back. “What do you want, darling?” he panted.

James’ ears went hot, blinking back to realize he was talking to him. “You,” he blurted. “I want to please you.”

Regulus laughed, something cruel in it as he curled his pointer finger, “Come here then and do it.”

James was suddenly on his hands and knees, crawling across the closet towards him. He sunk down between his legs, licking along the underside of his cock. His mouth watering from just the thought as he let Regulus slap the tip to his tongue, letting it slide into him with a hiss. He put a hand to the back of James’ neck, dragging him roughly into him before sending him back out. Controlling him, manipulating him, using him. James didn’t care, he delighted in it. Afterall, he was the one who was lucking out. He got to see Regulus falling apart from so close. Got to taste his precum. Got to hear every crude little thing that fell from his perfect mouth.

“Shit,” he breathed. “Desperate little mouth you have. All the better for fucking into.”

James moaned around his dick, nearly grinding his own into the rug out of sheer desperation.

Regulus pulled his mouth off, holding his chin tightly between his fingers. “You want more of me?”

James’ went dumb, nodding moronically. Lost in his submission. “Let me have you,” he begged. “Regulus, please.”

“Hm,” he hummed petulantly. “Why should I?”

“Because I’m good for you,” James urged. “And I’m good to you. Better than anyone else.”

Regulus raised a brow, “Bold assumption.”

“Yet you don’t deny it.”

The man smirked, a magical glint in his eye, “If I wound your fragile ego, you might go soft on me,”

“Oh no,” James shook his head. “I don’t think I could ever go soft on you, Regulus.”

The man didn’t speak, just stared. Smirk subtle on his face.

James nervously pulled a brave move, leaning upwards to press a hand into the drawers behind Regulus. Leaning close to his ear. “Please,” he whispered against it in his most desperate, weak voice. “Please, please, please.”

Regulus gave a soft moan at just the sound, leaning into his ear to whisper back, “Fuck me.”

James immediately smiled, pulling back to view the swatch of skin laid out beautifully before him. His hands painted over Regulus’ neck, his shoulders. All with the utmost care, the utmost compassion. He leaned closer again, pressing foreheads together.

The distant sound of James’ doorbell ringing through the house made his ears faintly twinge. So distant that it barely registered enough to have him stop. His hands running down over the dips in Regulus’ torso where the shadowed gray contours looked carved from marble.

It rang again, echoing faintly in the closet.

Regulus’ breath against his mouth was warm, fingers coming up under his chin to meet his eyes. “You’re not going to get that?” he asked, the tip of his tongue wearing against a canine.

James couldn’t stop staring at it, hovering his mouth closer just to try and taste his humid breath. “It’s irrelevant,” he whispered, hands running up Regulus’ back. Starting to lay him down on the closet floor to devour him.

The ringing at the door turned to pounding, aggressive and unsteady.

Regulus’ eyes drew towards the sound, brows crinkling. “James,” he said, more firmly like it was a command.

James felt the pounding of his heart rush through his body. He sighed hard, closing his eyes just to try and quell it. “Fine,” he breathed, getting up and grabbing a t-shirt from the drawer to tug on over his chest. He stumbled out of his bedroom, past the kitchen and living room and up to the front door. When he opened it, there was a delivery driver standing there in his coordinated uniform. A look of sheer terror across his face.

“I’m so sorry,” the man rushed to say, holding up his hands defensively. “Man, I swear, it wasn’t me. I was just driving and saw it laying there.”

James’ brows furrowed, shook his head, “I’m not following.”

“A cat,” he choked out. “In the road.”

James’ mouth hung open, a small sound behind him had him turning to see Regulus in the doorway of the living room. His fingers were stopped, hesitating on the buttons of James’ too big work shirts. His face just as ghostly white. A meaningful glance shared between them as they both realized what it meant.

“Shit,” Regulus murmured, with a sink of his narrow shoulders. He quickly hurried over, pushing past both James and the delivery man in the doorway.

Even just the brush of Regulus’ body somehow reanimated James. Had him pushing past the employee too as he raced behind Regulus towards the road. From a distance, he could see her. A crumbled pile of rumpled fur going out in different directions. He immediately fell to his knees on the asphalt, eyes darting between the blood soaking into her striped coat, the twisted little paw that definitely wasn’t facing the correct direction. Her eyes were closed, peaceful.

“I’m sorry,” the delivery driver heaved. “Is it-”

“She’s not ours,” Regulus said, standing over her. Both of them just disembodied voices in the back of James’ mind. “She’s our neighbor’s.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I just thought. Well, it was in front of your house-”

“Listen, why don’t you continue on your goddamn route. More carefully this time, asshat,” Regulus shot back.

“I didn’t-”

“You’re dismissed,” he said, crouching down to the street across from James.

He could hear the driver’s footsteps as he went back to his van, flipping the ignition and driving off. James’ thoughts were flatlined, nothing but a hollow echo in his skull as he watched Regulus’ hands feel at her fragile ribs.

“She’s breathing,” he murmured, voice too calm. Forced. “Take off your shirt.”

“What?” James’ looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Your shirt,” he beckoned to it. “We should wrap her up.”

James pulled it off his frame, handing it over and watching as Regulus started to carefully shift it around the cat.

“Where can we take her?” he asked.

James blinked, trying to think but each thought felt like a pounding headache coming on like a freight train. “Th-there is an emergency vet down the road.”

Regulus looked up at him, the question already in his eyes before he said it. “Can you drive?”

James tried to catch his breath, nodding, “I think so.”

“Good,” he said, hoisting the cat’s small frame up into the safety of his arms. “Let’s hurry.”

James grabbed his keys, slid into a pair of shoes at the door, not enough time to find another shirt before they were hopping into his car. He pulled out of his driveway, starting down the street. He tried to keep his hands on the wheel, eyes on the road, but he could smell the metallic scent of blood in the air. It tinted all his thoughts, deepened his concern. His gaze panned over towards Regulus, noting the blood soaking through the white shirt she was wrapped in. “She’s bleeding pretty bad,” he noted, looking back towards the road.

“I know,” Regulus said calmly. “I got her.”

“Right,” he nodded, trying to take another deep breath. Trying to let the man’s calm soak into him. Not knowing how he was capable of diffusing it, bending the world around him to his keen will. “What do you think happened?” he asked, if just to busy his mind.

“You said she’s been adventuring recently. Probably got clipped by a car.”

He sighed, raggedly. Hand combing through his hair. “Minerva’s going to flip,” he murmured.

“Who?”

“Her owner. She’ll be wondering where she went. She’s going to be wrecked. She was nervous something would happen. And now it did and-” James stopped at the feeling of warmth against his fingers, looking over to see Regulus’ hand curling around his. Interlocking their fingers against the console between them.

James felt his head go quiet, tranquil as he kept his eyes on the road. Something twisting in his chest that wasn’t concern or panic at all. A breath big enough to fill his lungs. Taking him back to last night for a long enough moment to diffuse the tension of the situation again.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, gripping Regulus’ fingers tighter in his hand. “Hardly, how I expected your last day here to go. Letting a cat die in your goddamn arms.”

“She’s not dead yet,” he reminded him. “Keep driving, James.”

Two hours later, they were sitting in the waiting room of the emergency vet clinic. They had found a scrubs top for James in the back, the clinic’s name embroidered onto the pocket. It was a little too tight on his chest, constricting his breathing a bit too much and making his anxiety flare a little stronger. The air smelled like disinfectant and there were distant dog barks in the back that were jarring his thoughts. He was more conscious, more grateful than ever for Regulus’ hand still in his as they waited in silence.

“Mr. Potter?” a vet tech called, coming out from the back room.

He stood suddenly, feeling the tether of Regulus’ hand. He looked to him, seeing the small smile of assurance he offered just before letting go. James walked up to the front desk, trying to take notice of the smallest little signs in the vet tech’s face. The subtle pull of the corners of her mouth filling him with hope.

James swallowed, readying himself for whatever news there was. “Is she…?”

“She was very fortunate,” the woman nodded. “It was only a broken leg and some superficial lacerations. We set her leg and gave her a few stitches. She should be on the mend.”

James felt the rush of his chest, his smile breaking across his face. “Thank you,” he gasped with a soft laugh. “Thank you. That’s… that’s great news.”

“I’ll be back out shortly with her,” she said. “Then, we can go through the medicines we are prescribing. I’ll make notes of everything for the owner.”

“Yes, of course,” James nodded, feeling weight lifted from his chest. “Thank you again.” He turned back for Regulus, taking his seat next to him. “Did you hear that?” he nearly squealed.

“I heard it,” he nodded. He was smiling too.

James reached for his hand again like it was becoming habit, intertwining their fingers. “And you were so scared,” he laughed, eyes painting down his lovely face.

“I was scared?” he gawked. “May I reenact the sheer terror in your eyes?”

James shook his head, “You wouldn’t have told me but you thought she wasn’t going to make it.”

“We both thought she wasn’t going to make it.”

“But she will,” James beamed.

Regulus nodded, biting at his smile. “It seems so.”

James looked down to their meeting hands, admiring the man’s pretty nails, long and almond shaped underneath their opaque black paint. “You know,” he whispered, looking back up to his eyes. Leaning closer. “I’m glad you were here, Regulus.”

The man fell quiet. But even in his eyes, his smile, something in them was whispering. Perhaps in a language that James hadn’t yet begun to decipher. But he wanted to. He wanted to understand everything loud and everything quiet and everything in between.

The door to the back swung open again. “Alright,” the vet tech put a cat carrier up on the counter. “I can take care of you up here, sir.”

James’ eyes were forced to pull away. “Oh, of course,” he let go of Regulus’ hand, hurrying up towards the front desk as the woman began to explain in detail about how to administer the antibiotics and pain medicines that Cat would need to heal. James nodded, listening intently as she ran down the list of instructions so that he could accurately reconvey them to Minerva.

As he was paying, he felt Regulus’ presence lingering at his side. He looked over watching him poke his fingers into the holes of the cat carrier. Trying to pet her fur gently with just his fingertip. It made him smile.

Regulus looked over towards James’ open wallet. “What’s that?” he asked before leaning over and plucking something from his wallet. It was a faded photostrip of three black and white shots stacked on top of each other. In it, Remus, Sirius, Lily, and him were drawn tightly into each other’s sides. Their cheeks squished together as they smiled goofily. A drunken gleam in their eyes, an audible laughter in their smiles. “My friends,” he said proudly. “We took it at some dive bar on the edge of campus.”

Regulus didn’t react, simply kept staring.

James blinked, trying to read him. “If you’re readying an old joke-”

“These are the friends you moved with? The couple?” he asked, without raising his eyes.

“Yup,” he leaned over, brushing shoulders as he pointed. “The tall one is Remus and the shaggy haired one is Sirius.”

Regulus was momentarily silent, something heavy on his chest before he rushed to speak again, “And the girl?”

James could tell how vibrantly red her hair was even in the black and white. Looking towards the bottom to a picture of them kissing as Remus and Sirius looked on in faux disgust. It had always made him laugh. Even after the divorce. “That’s…” he struggled for a moment, smile softer now. “Well, that’s Lily.”

“How will you be paying today?” the front desk worker asked, drawing James’ attention away as he handed his card over. By the time he finished signing the receipt, Regulus was offering him back the film strip between two fingers. Nearly like it was something tainted, dirty. James tried not to read into it. “You ready to take little Cat home?” he smiled.

Regulus’ stare was blank, turning off towards the exit with a sigh, “Let’s just go.”

James had never seen Minerva cry, but she was coming offly close as she let Cat take her first few unsteady steps. The cat was still obviously a bit dazed, tired and only lasting a few seconds before she was crumpling to the side to rest. Minerva gasped, eyes welling up so much that James had to put an arm around her to comfort her. “She’s safe now,” he tried to say. “Doctors said she is on the mend. Will be good as new soon.”

Minerva leaned down, pulling back some of Cat’s fur to peek at the stitches. She covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry, James,” she choked out. “This wasn’t your burden to bear.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured her. “I had help. We handled it.”

“Thank you,” she said, hugging him for what was probably the third time.

“Of course,” he nodded, giving her a tight squeeze before pulling away. “I promise to check in tomorrow, alright? But the instructions should detail everything she needs. Just call me if anything. I don’t mind taking her back to the vet either for her follow-up. Really.”

After a few more hugs and whispered ‘thank yous’, he managed to slip away, walking back towards his house where he had dropped Regulus off. As soon as he came in, he could feel it all over again. A startlingly strong tension in the air that had haunted them the whole drive home. Only intensified by the knowledge that their time was winding down. Afterall, Regulus had to leave soon to go back to the hotel. To make his flight. Everything between them became so suddenly banterless and unsettling. As if the air had been drained from the room.

“Hey, you,” he called as he came into the bedroom. He saw Regulus sitting on the floor, stuffing his outfit from last night into his backpack. He was still wearing James’ clothes as if that was any comfort to him.

James floundered in the tightly pulled silence, running through a million different scenarios as he watched Regulus gather his things. “You looking forward to being home?” he offered, carefully like confronting a skittish stray.

“Hm,” he hummed, noncommittally.

“You’ll be getting back late.”

“I’ll actually be arriving early in the morning,” he murmured just under his breath.

James’ expression fell flat, confused. Staring blankly as the man’s eyes flicked up towards him for just a fraction of a second.

“I’m going to Seoul.”

“What?” James unpeeled himself from the doorway, taking a step closer as the concern in him was suddenly churning.

“I told you,” the man sighed. “There is a politician-”

James’ brows drew together, “And I thought I outbid him. I thought I brought you here instead.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, tone breathless and passive, “You managed to put him off for a few days-”

“Then, I’ll outbid him again,” he said, like it was a challenge.

Regulus turned his navy eyes towards him, looking him up and down analytically. His jaw wrenched tight, mirroring the same hostility. “James. You can’t keep doing that,” he said firmly. “I have a clientele to keep, you know. I have to go where they send me.”

James felt the churning grow more violent, like a storm out at sea. He glared at him. “You’re not a piece of jewelry up for international auction. You have some autonomy in this, you know?”

“I’m impartial. I go where I’m wanted.”

James took a step forward, “You’re wanted here. More than anywhere else.”

Regulus stared back at him, something dead behind his scowl. Eerily detached. And when he finally spoke, his words were no louder than a whispered hiss, “I don’t fucking get you.”

“What?” James suddenly felt the attention turning back around towards him, making him recoil into himself. Physically backpedaling two steps.

“You know what I am. You hire me. You pay me,” Regulus bit out, slowly rising to his feet. “Yet I come here and you want to treat me like your fucking boyfriend? Why am I even here? If you want a boyfriend so bad, go out and get one. They are a hell of a lot cheaper than me.”

“I want you, Regulus!” he thundered.

“Because?”

He laughed cruelly between his teeth, “I think I’ve made it fairly clear.”

Regulus’ shoulders collapsed, a scoff in his throat. “Then run it past me one more time.”

“Because I like you, Regulus!” he roared. “More than I have liked anyone else out there!” He let that statement settle, bear the weight it needed as he tried to catch his breath. “And to be quite honest, I’m kind of shocked that you are mad I don’t treat you like a hooker.”

Regulus’ face changed and James could immediately tell that he had said exactly the wrong thing. “I am a hooker,” he said defiantly.

James’ chest caved. “No, Regulus. You’re more than that.”

“No,” he shook his head, raising a pointed finger. “Don’t try and spin this like you are some righteous savior coming to sweep me from the slums. That’s not what this is about. That’s not what I was ever looking for in you.”

“Then what are you looking for?”

“Business.”

James crossed his arms over his chest, “And I’m the bad guy. Because I see this as more than business. Because I genuinely care about you?”

Regulus growled, fingers curling into his hair like he might tear it out. “Yes!” he screamed. “Because that is exactly where you are wrong, James. That’s exactly why I shouldn’t be here. Why I should block you. Because you keep crossing boundaries that I am being incredibly transparent about.”

James’ expression fell. “You wouldn’t do that,” he said, softer. Nearly begging. “You wouldn’t block me.”

Regulus held his eyes, not backing down. “I wouldn’t hesitate to block you.”

James went quiet. Wanting to say things that he couldn’t. Inklings on the tip of his tongue. Knowing that he couldn’t say them. Because if he was right, it wouldn’t matter. If he was wrong, he’d look so fucking stupid. Such a cliche. So he put them away.

“I’m sorry,” he said weakly, admitting defeat. Eating any pride he had left.

“Maybe you are,” Regulus shrugged without softening. “But until you can handle this, until you can respect what I am, we can’t do this.” He let those words settle for a moment, before picking up his bag and brushing past James’ in the doorway.

James turned, trying to follow, but he was out of words. Out of ideas. Reeling in his own helplessness. “M-maybe I misunderstood,” he stuttered out. “I just. I thought you were enjoying… this. Enjoying, I don’t know, being with me.”

Regulus turned to face him, his brows drawn tightly together. He looked like he was on the precipice of saying something, something clever and cutting by the looks of it. But his lips sealed tightly together, holding it back as his eyes glazed down James’ frame. It was a long moment of tense quiet before he finally met his eyes again. “I have a flight to make,” he murmured, before turning towards the front door.

James chased after him, reaching to grab his arm, “Let me at least drive you-”

“No,” he pulled away, pushing James’ hand off. “No, I can get there myself.”

“But you don’t have to. I can help,” he pleaded.

Regulus gave him a scathing look of disgust. “I don’t need your help,” he bit out, before hoisting the backpack higher on his shoulder and walking out.

The door slammed. James imagined Regulus moving further and further down his street, away from him. Towards some fucked up old man half a planet away. And in the moment, he couldn’t help but think that he was no better than Regulus’ other clients. That while he had been trying to delude himself into thinking he was more youthful, more attractive, more kind, that he was genuine in his feelings, he knew that to Regulus, it didn’t matter. It never would.

Chapter Text

By the time James made it to the office the next day through dragged feet, Marlene was seemingly waiting for him just outside his office. A sly smile twisted onto her mouth as she tossed her gold braid over her shoulder. “So,” she rocked back onto the heels of her chunky oxfords. “How was your Dr. McKinnon prescribed break? Restful, relaxing, much needed?”

“It was…” James stopped in his tracks, eyes floating up toward the dropped ceiling squares. His thoughts running away from him for a moment. Pondering just how much could happen in nothing but a week. “I got a new major gift donor.”

“Wait a minute,” Marlene’s brows immediately furrowed. “You weren’t supposed to be working.”

“It’s Bellatrix Lestrange’s sister. She’s trying to out-pledge her,” he noted without acknowledgement.

“Out-pledge?” the woman blinked. “How in the hell did you do that?”

“Might be a good time to call Bellatrix and see if she wants to match. Create a bidding war,” his memory flickered with Regulus, darkening instantly. “If they are so desperate to win us, then maybe we can benefit.”

“War? Are you serious? James-”

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said, though his tone suggested nothing of the sort, before heading into his office and shutting the door behind him. With his back against it, the clinical lights flickering on with his motion, he was forced to confront the overwhelming quiet. Wanting nothing more than to bury himself under a pile of work to forget what he’d left behind in the weekend.

Sirius had begged him to come out to dinner with him despite James having said repeatedly that he wasn’t in the mood. Something about how Remus was tied up in finals week and Sirius was restless, trying to figure out what to do with himself. James hardly considered it his problem, afterall he had his own problems to be moping about, but Sirius’ worst enemy had always been boredom and he couldn’t deny his best friend for long.

Sirius had promised to spare James no expense for his kindness, taking him to a restaurant that was as swanky as they come. Clothed tables and some fusion menu that James hadn’t seen before and bottles of wine from areas of the world he couldn’t even pronounce. It was enough to have him feeling a bit lonely, thinking of just days ago when he would have liked to take Regulus to a place like this, if only to try and futility impress him. But now, it just made the phone in his pocket feel like a brick that weighed him down with each passing moment that Regulus wasn’t contacting him.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Sirius asked only a few bites into the appetizer.

James’ eyes flicked to him across the table, shaking his head, “Nothing.”

He raised an unconvinced brow. “You seem awfully quiet for James Potter.”

“I’m just busy,” he shrugged, pulling his eyes back down to some sort of beet carpaccio. “Work or something, you know.”

“Speaking of, how did it go with my abhorrent cousins?”

“Oh,” James perked up, habitually reaching for his wine at just the brief memory of their exhaustingly somber bitterness. “They are insufferable.”

Sirius huffed, “Clearly.”

“But they want to give my organization a lot of money just to show off. And I won’t stop them from doing that.”

“That is what I’m talking about!” Sirius reached across the table, shaking his friend’s shoulder. “Wring those imbeciles dry.”

James laughed, brushing him away. “In fact,” he inclined his head. “They even gave me some interesting gossip to ponder on someone very close to me.”

“Who?”

“You,” he smiled. “And this fabled brother of yours that you have never mentioned.”

Sirius’ face fell, “James Potter. Not another word-”

“Are you seriously that mad at him?”

“For selling my family’s company without even considering me? Are you telling me you wouldn’t be mad?”

“I don’t have any siblings,” he spooned another bite into his mouth.

“Well, just imagine it this way. You work your whole life to prove to yourself that you deserve the goddamn legacy that your parents were too big of pricks to ever give you and then the one ally you thought you had suddenly denies you from it as well.”

“But why? Why did he sell the company off without telling you?”

“Because he is a giant, petulant brat who mistakes insolence for a personality.”

“Hmm,” James hummed behind his smile. “Maybe you had it all wrong, Sirius. You have a lot in common with your Narcissa and Lucius. They said pretty much the same thing.”

“Well, at least we can agree to that,” he scoffed, draining the rest of his wine. “Now, he sits in my childhood home, using it for his own outlandish delights. A stranger to all of us.”

“Outlandish delights?” James raised a brow. “Sounds like a character. Maybe I’d like him.”

“Annoyingly, I think you would,” Sirius said, fighting through an unwilling smile. “Now, can we please change the topic before you put me off my dinner?”

“James.”

He turned his head towards the voice, watching a figure glide up to the table through the dimmed lights of the dining room. He was blonde, muscular in his fine suit. Familiar in a way that had James’ thoughts stuttering in his head for a moment like a scratched disc. “Evan!” he finally realized, eyes widening. “What are you-”

“This is my restaurant,” the man said, smiling shyly at one corner of his mouth. Eyes glinting as they pulled away from James toward Sirius.

His friend stared between them, befuddled for a moment. “Oh,” Sirius sat straighter, then hastened to get out of his chair. Murmuring under his breath, “Let me find the-”

“Restroom?” Evan offered, smile full of charm. “Back on the left and down the hall.”

“Thank you,” Sirius nodded, curling his hair behind his ear as he walked off, briefly looking back to stare at both of them stumbling onward.

James’ shoulders fell, knowing that would be one hell of an explanation when he got back. He refocused his attention on Evan. “I’m so sorry,” he started to explain. “My best friend invited me here. I should have realized-”

“It’s fine,” he shook his head.

“I probably look like I’m trying to stalk you or something but-”

“No, no,” Evan stopped him with the raise of his hand. “I wouldn’t think that.” He laughed under his breath, “I’m actually just thankful you weren’t on a date.”

“Oh, god no,” James groaned. “Sirius is my best mate. He’s actually married to my other best mate. I’m sorry, it’s-”

“James,” he smiled. “Like I said, it’s fine. Just wanted to check and make sure you’re enjoying everything. You know, owner duties.”

He bit his inner cheek, before he could ramble off another apology. “Everything is wonderful. Thank you.”

“And,” he shrugged. “Just wondering. If your little situation is still… complicated?”

He faltered under Evan’s good looks, his dashing confidence. Wondering how he had gone toe-to-toe with his charisma just a week ago. “Unfortunately, yes,” he admitted with a heavy exhale.

Evan’s mouth twisted together. Not quite a smile, nor a grimace. “Well, then I won’t further embarrass myself with shooting my shot then.”

“No, please. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s me who is the idiot here. Not taking you out when what I’m doing is so clearly not working.”

“Well, not that I’m praying for your downfall,” he laughed. “But if things do go south with this complicated person, I would love to be first on the waitlist. So to speak.”

James felt the heat burn through his cheeks. “Yes,” he nodded. “Consider yourself first.”

“Alright then,” Evan smiled brilliantly. “Have an amazing night with your friend. And, fair warning, if the owner of this fine establishment comps you an extra dessert, it might be because he’s hitting on you.” He gave a subtle wink as he carefully weaved through the rest of the tables, towards the kitchen.

“What the fuck was that about?” Sirius asked when they got out of the restaurant, walking slowly down the dimly lit street towards their cars.

“Was what?” James’ kept his eyes to the concrete.

He huffed, pointing back towards the restaurant. “I don’t know. Was it the handsome man at our table? Or the cannoli that was conveniently left off the check?”

James rolled his eyes, already wanting to forget about it, “He’s just a friend I met out the other night.”

Sirius weaved a little closer, brushing shoulders, “Did you-”

“No,” he said firmly, stuffing hands into his pockets. “No, I did not.”

“Well, maybe you should have,” he whistled through his teeth.

“I almost did. But then, I didn’t.”

“Hm,” Sirius hummed. “Any particular reason why?”

James was quiet, considering. Wondering how he could circumvent the one person who was taking up the most room in his thoughts right now.

“Oh,” Sirius finally said. “I see.”

“You see what?” James glared, stopping in his tracks.

“No, no, no. It’s fine,” he waved, walking onward. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

James hastened to chase after him, “Is that reverse psychology?”

“Depends,” he smiled. “Is it working?”

James sighed deeply, knowing exactly how Sirius was. That he would never hear the end of this, that Sirius’ theories would just get more and more outrageous if he didn’t just tell him something. “I met someone else,” he admitted simply, passing it off as no big deal.

Sirius’ smile grew, so self assured like he knew he was right. “Alright, tell me everything. When did you meet them?” he sing-songed.

James scratched at the nape of his neck, “A few weeks ago, maybe?”

“That’s why you were missing last Friday. Got it.”

“Yeah,” he dimmed a little. Remembering that night that Regulus threw his clothes out of the balcony. How beautiful he looked when acting absolutely insane. “Yeah, that’s why.”

“And that’s why you didn’t bend that handsome blonde man over the nearest table and feed him your cannoli.”

“Sirius,” his eyes slipped closed behind his glasses. “Please do not make food metaphors with my dick.”

He scoffed, “As if you aren’t doing the same on that hookup app you go on. Oh, wait. Is that where you met them? This other person?”

“Let’s not talk about how I met him,” he said, drawing a line in the sand on that front. Because there was no way he was about to admit that he was paying for sex. Because it was way more nuanced than that. Or at least that was what he kept telling himself. “All you need to know is that things are not going as well as I had hoped between us.”

“Already?” Sirius’ face drew up at one side. “Lord. So much for the honeymoon phase. What’s the problem?”

“He…” James struggled with how to phrase things without outing Regulus’ job. Outing the whole ass backwards approach they currently had to human connection. “He isn’t interested in a relationship.”

“And you are?” his eyes widened. “Is this the same James Potter that has been a bachelor for the past three years?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well I hadn’t exactly planned on pursuing a relationship.”

“But?”

“But,” James’ feet slowed to a stop under a streetlamp. “But I just… I like him a lot. A stupid amount really. And I don’t want to overstep his boundaries, but then I do. Not because I don’t respect him, but because I want more of him.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just chasing him for the thrill of it? You do that, you know?”

“Yes, I know I do that. But I’m fairly positive this isn’t one of those cases.”

Sirius leaned up against the wall of a building, the streetlight highlighting the tall points of his sharp features, “He’s worthy of chasing then?”

James looked at Sirius, seeing right through him. As if Regulus was on the other side. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, he is.”

The corners of his friend's mouth drew up, holding a private joke with himself right behind his blue eyes. “You know,” he peeled himself from the wall. “I didn’t want to date Remus at first.”

James’ brow furrowed, never having even remembered a time when the two weren’t attached at the hip. “Why not?”

“I was worried,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want to ruin our friendship. Our whole dynamic as a friend group. Thought it would break us all up if it went south.”

“It wouldn’t have,” James shook his head.

“I couldn’t see that. I could only see the possible danger there. Could only see the risk.”

James thought back to Regulus, wondering if it was the same for him. If there was inherently too much risk in what James was quietly trying to pursue. If it was just safer to keep up the dynamic of client and escort. If it felt safe, familiar to him. James had no idea. “What did it take then? For you to finally let go?”

“Patience,” Sirius nodded. “I just needed his patience. So that I could realize that the reward outweighed the risk.”

James smirked. “You married the right person for patience.”

Sirius shrugged, “It sounds like this guy you are seeing might just need patience too.”

He considered it, getting lost in playing out every scenario. Feeling like if it came down to James not being so eager and greedy for every inch of Regulus, then it all felt so hopeless. “Maybe I’m not as good as Remus at that.”

“Maybe you can learn. Maybe this guy would appreciate the effort.”

James sighed, a hand combing through his hair. “It would be a long shot.”

“Well, good thing love is all about taking the long shots,” Sirius laughed.

James thought about it the whole way home, long until he was sitting in the dark of his apartment with a nightcap in his glass. His thoughts felt like a tennis ball being sent back and forth across the court. Exercise the time and patience Regulus needed or give up on the idea of ever having him entirely?

Somewhere between his first and second drink, he took out his phone. Dialed Regulus’ number and let it ring and ring and ring, until the voicemail response spoke clearly in his ear. He bit into his nails until the beep.

“Hey, Regulus. It’s me. James. In case you forgot,” he immediately winced, pressing fingers into his forehead in weak mortification. “Look, I knew you wouldn’t answer. Hell, maybe you won’t even listen to this. And that’s fair. But I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

He let the word hover in the air. He sighed raggedly into the receiver. “I’ve been thinking about you all week and I just really want you to know that…” he wondered why he called, what he was doing. He was so stupid. “Well, I wanted you to know that I’m trying. You know this whole thing is new to me and I don’t always understand the dynamic we are aiming for here. But I can sympathize with having professional boundaries to maintain.”

He spun the contents of his glass, working through his thoughts for a moment. “All that rambling to say that, if you are willing to teach me how to do this, I’m willing to learn. All I ask is that we are patient with each other, okay?” He hated when for a moment, he expected a response. A stubborn hum or sharp comeback would have been fine, but there was nothing but silence. “Alright, well. I’m thinking of you. I miss you. A lot. Have a good night.”

It was nearly the end of a long, monotonous week when James came into the office and had Marlene waiting with a tapping foot by his office for him. He could see that he was in trouble from a mile away, going up to her like a dog with his tail between his legs. “What did I do now?” he sighed.

“You’ve opened a can of worms, Potter.”

“What?”

She grabbed his arm, pulling him into his office and shutting the door. “You have a virtual call with Lucius and Narcissa in twenty minutes.”

James’ eyes widened, putting his things down on his desk. “Concerning?”

“They heard that Bellatrix out-pledged them. They do not seem happy about it.”

“For fuck’s sake,” James’ shoulders fell. “What is it with these sisters?”

Marlene shrugged, biting out her words, “You wanted to start a war? Then, this organization is going to be the battlefield, James.”

It cut deep, knowing she was at least partially right. That they were becoming twisted in petty family drama in a way they should never have been. “I’m sorry, McKinnon,” he said, trying to convey the full breadth of his remorse.

She held up her hand to stop him, “No need to be sorry. Just fix it. Without losing either of their pledges. Got it?”

He sighed raggedly, hands rubbing into his eyes beneath his glasses. “Please at least sit in the meeting with me,” he pleaded. “I need the support.”

She raised a brow, “Only if I don’t have to be on screen.”

“Deal.”

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting in a conference room with the camera aimed straight at James. Marlene on the opposite side of the table, still holding far too much stress in her shoulders as they connected with Lucius and Narcissa on the other side of the country. Distantly, James could spot the city skyline in the window behind them, making him think about who else was in New York.

“James,” Lucius tried his best at a smile, but it just looked sinister in all the wrong ways. “Lovely to see you.”

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” Narcissa butted in, perhaps less pleasant than she had been last time.

“Of course,” James tried to grin. “How can I help you today?”

“Well,” Lucius looked over towards his wife, his hands folding together across the table in front of him. “It has come to our attention that a certain relative of ours has decided to out-pledge us.”

“Yes,” James nodded. “It seems that Bellatrix called in to increase her pledge. We are grateful that she is so passionate about our mission.”

“Yes, ever so gracious of her,” the man’s voice had no inflection. “We are calling to express our sentiments on the matter.”

“Which are?”

“We don’t like it,” Narcissa scoffed. “This is exactly what we didn’t want to happen.”

“Honey,” he put a hand over hers. Watching her settle back down before he cleared his throat. “What I think my wife means is that we want to offer your organization a gesture. Something that will publicly show, with absolute certainty, that you have our unwavering, abundant support.”

James sent a confused look towards Marlene who was rolling her eyes. “And, uh. What exactly did you have in mind, Mr. Malfoy?”

“We would like to partner on an event. A campaign if you will.”

James shook his head, “We just had our annual gala a few weeks ago. I’m sure the community is already too fatigued to ask for more.”

“That is why we could have it here, leveraging our circle instead. Expose your organization to a whole new, wider, and, dare I say, wealthier crowd.”

James’ brows raised high on his forehead, replaying their words in his ears to try and make sense of them. “You want to do the event in New York City?”

“Precisely,” Narcissa said proudly.

James looked over towards Marlene who was firmly shaking her head, a deadly glare across her face. He pulled his gaze away from her, trying to think. “What sort of buy in do you need from our organization?”

“No, buy-in,” Lucius smirked. “Perhaps we can use some of your team, but consider the cost of the event covered under us.”

Marlene was now clearly mouthing ‘no’, her eyes growing wider by the second.

James’ expression flicked back up to the screen, knowing this wasn’t a typical offer. This was major. An opportunity to host an event in a new city, with a high earning demographic, at no cost to them. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew it was too good to pass up. “Why not?” he questioned with a small laugh. “Let’s do it.”

Marlene hung her shaking face into her hands in a look of pure devastation.

“Wonderful,” Narcissa clapped her hands together.

“What would next steps be then?” James asked.

“We would love to host you and some of your team out here,” Lucius offered. “Perhaps we can start setting a date, scout venues. With proper planning, I think we could pull this off in, what do you think, Cissy? A couple months?”

“Easily,” she said, extremely pleased with herself.

“Great,” James nodded. “We can be there next week.”

After discussing a few more details, James wished them off, promising that he would see them in NYC the following week. Marlene slammed the laptop closed, standing in her seat. “James,” she glared. “This isn’t as smart as you think it is.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, sitting back in his chair like he could feel the fire coming off of her. “They want to sponsor an event with a bunch of their stupid, rich friends? They want to make a whole giving campaign just for us? Who are we to stop them?”

“You know how these types of people operate. There will be attached strings, red tape, unspoken agreements.”

“Then, we will have to be the ones to speak them,” he smiled. “We have the power here, McKinnon. We have something they want!”

“We have other things we should be doing, you know? Smaller partners to be helping. Doing things. Not just making money.”

“We can do more things with more money,” he assured her. “Which is exactly why we are going to New York next week.”

Marlene stood back, a heavy sigh in her throat. “This sounds like a mess waiting to happen.”

“McKinnon,” he whined. “Nothing is signed yet. Let’s go. Let’s scope it out. Keep an open mind, okay?”

“Fine,” she said, seeming less than fine with it. “Open mind.”

When James got back to his office, he locked the door. He sat back at his desk and looked out the window. In the distance he could see the shimmering sound, West Seattle. Remembering how it wouldn’t be the same anymore with Regulus having imbued this city with his light.

He took out his phone again, dialing the man’s number and waiting for the voicemail to beep again.

“Hey, Reg. It’s James. Again,” he started, toying with the pen on his desk. “Listen, I’m coming out to New York next week. Some dumb work thing. I just thought maybe we could see each other. If you wanted. If not, that’s okay too. I get you are still taking some time to- Well, nevermind. I won’t get into it. Just wanted to put the offer out on the table. Miss you.”

Chapter Text

The first thing James did when he got to the airport was upgrade Marlene’s flight to first class, knowing he had to get on her best side if their trip to New York City was going to be a success. He had spent the week listening to all manner of pessimism, defensiveness, and, at times, downright whining about their upcoming trip. It seemed Marlene had already made up her mind, dead set on hating everything the Malfoys stood for. And while James would have typically been more than happy to agree with her, he was resistant to see Marlene’s petty excuses as anything but that. Excuses.

The flight gave him the space and quiet he needed to think. To deeply consider just what it was he was so stuck on with this deal. Why it had seemed all but wrapped up in his mind as soon as they spoke on the call. And while he wanted to say it was the Malfoy’s generous offer of hosting the event, of floating the cost, of the potential for new audiences, he found it hard to think about anything else, be excited for anything else, but being in the same city as Regulus.

When they touched down, he felt a craze in his quick step, in his smile as they spotted the driver the Malfoys had sent for them. Their ride into the city had him rolling down the window in the back of the town car, smelling the pungent urban stench like it was the most glorious perfume he had ever known.

“What are you doing?” Marlene asked. “You’re letting the air conditioning out.”

“Sorry,” James smiled, rolling his window back up as he eyed the skyline coming into view. “Where do you think they are taking us tonight?”

She adjusted the hem of her dress, pulling it down her knees like she was uncomfortable. They had both changed in the airport bathroom before the ride home, knowing that the first stop after their long flight was a dinner with their hosts. “I don’t care,” she shook her head. “I’m getting the most expensive thing on the menu.”

“They probably will too. And then complain that it was overseasoned.”

“God,” she rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you are really having us do this, James.”

“Remember what we said. We are keeping an open-mind. We are coming into this with the power to make demands.”

“Fine,” she sighed, stressed as she gathered her hair into a ponytail. “But I’m getting drunk.”

“As long as you don’t show it.”

“I never do,” she singsonged.

Dinner was everything he knew Marlene would hate. A stuffy Italian place on the Upper East Side that had her ordering their finest red and a steak with a forced smile. She faded back into the conversation as James and the Malfoys caught up.

“I thought you two would be upstate for the summer?” he asked with a swirl of his glass.

“We wish we were,” Narcissa huffed. “This city gets so unbearably warm. It’s all we can do to stay inside and not have to look at the scantily clad miscreants parading around.”

“We would have gone back, but other events have taken priority,” Lucius added.

James got the firmly set idea that he should ask no further questions on the matter, diverting down another train of thought just to keep the conversation going. “Well, we are so excited to be here. Aren’t we, Marlene?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed loudly, chewing a bite in her mouth.

“I haven’t been to New York in ages,” James urged. “Not since Sirius was showing us around during weekends in college.”

“How is he by the way?” Narcissa asked, but the sneer in her tone already wished him nothing but the worst.

“He’s wonderful,” James perked. “Him and his husband live not too far from me back in Seattle. They love it there.”

“Oh yes, the school teacher, correct?” Lucius eyed the waiter coming over to refill his glass of wine.

“He’s a professor actually.”

“Right,” the man clicked his tongue between his teeth. Gaze floating up to James across the table. “Are you married, James?”

He went quiet for a moment, a bit taken aback. Having to remind himself that it wasn’t exactly an intrusive question. “Was married. Not anymore.”

“Tragic,” Narcissa hissed. “What happened to her?”

James laughed, “Oh, not like that. She is alive and well. Delivers babies. We’re divorced.”

“Oh,” Narcissa’s eyes widened. “How unfortunate.”

Marlene’s fingers went visibly tight on her cutlery.

James plastered a fake smile across his mouth. “How about we discuss the event? Marlene and I have been so excited to hear your plans.”

“Oh, heaven’s no,” Lucius shook his head. “No, we will discuss the event tomorrow when we tour some venues. Not tonight, not at dinner.”

James sat back in his chair, feeling like a child chided. He looked over towards Marlene, an unspoken apology in his eyes.

“So, Ms. McKinnon,” Narcissa smirked. “How did you find yourself in such a… commanding position?”

“They are the fucking worst, James,” Marlene had said, her lips and teeth stained purple from the wine as they walked through Central Park towards their hotel near Times Square. Lucius had offered to call them a cab, looking perturbed when they said they would instead walk.

“Clearly,” James nodded, hands in the pockets of his suit. “Remember these are the people Sirius left in the dust as soon as he moved to college.”

“I don’t blame him,” she said. “If we have many more dinners like that this week, my steak knife may or may not find its way through my left eye.”

“Don’t be dramatic, McKinnon. It’s a small price to pay for what they are doing for us.”

“Which we still have no idea of because they didn’t want to talk about it.”

“We will talk about it tomorrow, see a few places. I’m sure it will all start to come together.” James suddenly stopped, his eyes drawn to a street catching his attention across the way. He could only see fractions of it peeking through the passing cars. It was bathed in red light, the subtle thump of distant bass barely audible.

Marlene turned back towards him, furrowing her brow. “Are you coming?”

He blinked toward her. “Actually, I was thinking of extending my walk. Can you find your way back on your own?”

“Absolutely,” she told him. “I’m called by the jet tub and bottle of wine waiting for me at the hotel.”

James smiled, “Call me if you have any trouble. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the lobby tomorrow. Ten thirty sharp, okay?”

“You got it, boss,” she snapped, turning to walk off towards the other end of the park.

James watched her for a moment, filling with pride before he looked back towards that red-bathed street. Something about it calling to him. He slipped down the sidewalk, admiring the small businesses closed for the day, the occasional sharply dressed pedestrian passing him. He was walking for nearly five blocks before felt the foot traffic around him growing heavier, more congested. Swaths of young people in trendy clothing, drunken edges to their laughs.

James’ gaze drew up to a place across the street they seemed to be pouring from. Bright flashing lights and a long line all the way down the block. He could feel the thump of the music again, now deep in his chest. Something about the place coaxing his attention for a moment too long when he suddenly felt a small touch at the back pocket of his trousers. He tried to spin towards it, only to catch a flash of white blonde hair.

His eyes followed it, until a woman was standing right in front of him. She had on an ivory slip dress, strappy heels laced up her thin legs. Waist length blonde hair and black kohl smudged around her crystal blue eyes. The expression in them was wide, maniacal as she stuck her tongue out, waving his leather wallet in her hand. His gold etched initials glimmering back in the streetlight.

“Hey!” he shouted towards her. “Give that back!”

She just laughed, head thrown back in a howl as she started to run into the club. Disappearing in the crowd of people waiting to get in.

“What the actual fuck,” James muttered under his breath as he started off after her, cutting through the line to slip into the noisy club. He distantly heard a bouncer at the door yelling after him, turning to apologize profusely and clumsily trying to beckon towards the thief he was pursuing. The bounder’s expression staled, shaking his head as he dismissed him with a wave of his hand. James whipped his head back around, searching the club.

It was packed with people, shadowed with darkness as his eyes scanned the room. The music was bassy, sounding like something they would play at a cool vampire hideout in Berlin or something. The people around him were dancing, something aloof in their weak shoulders as they swayed nearly robotically to the beat. James tried to focus on finding long blonde hair, twisting his head around to try and spot her. But she seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

He groaned, frustrated as he made his way over to the bar. He tried to grab the bartender's attention. The passive roll of a girl’s eyes as she leaned in towards him. “What will it be?”

“Actually, I’m looking for a girl,” he told her, head still swiveling around, “Blonde hair, small. She’s wearing a lacey dress.”

The bartender raised a brow, “So, you don’t want anything to drink?” But before he could answer, she was already walking away, taking someone else's order down the bar.

James sighed, cursing New Yorkers as he turned around to scan over the room again. His eyes were better adjusted now, running carefully over each person in a hunt that felt increasingly hopeless.

His eyes fell to the dancefloor, a red-tinted flood light shining against the frame of a man. He had dark curls that curled down his neck, a black t-shirt that looked sheer, stopping right above a pair of sharp, exposed hip bones. Low rise pants that showcased smooth, milky skin below his navel. Drawing back up to his face, James could have recognized him from any distance. His heart twisted tight in his chest.

Regulus.

He was dancing up against someone, a tall man with cropped dark hair. He had his hands at the back of the man’s neck, while the taller man had his on Regulus’ hips. They weren’t passively swaying like the others around them, no instead, they seemed to really dance. Feet moving in time to the music like it was choreography. It was sensual and beautiful and James would have never imagined dancing like that to this sort of music, but it worked.

He watched as Regulus’ frame sunk further down the man’s body. He bit into his lip, blood stirring warm in his veins when Regulus turned in the stranger’s arms to put his hands up around his firm jaw. Drawing him in as their feet kept moving, lips brushing firmly together like it was a part of the dance. Craning their heads to make better use of their angles, to kiss deeper. Burying into each other.

James’ heart burst, deflating like a lifeless balloon. Still caught up in watching Regulus kiss this strange man, aching and wishing it were him. Nearly able to mimic what it would feel like to kiss him. And God, if given the chance, he knew he’d kiss better than anyone else had ever done before. Kiss him so good that he’d never want to kiss anyone else. Especially not strange men in clubs that weren’t him.

He was so incredibly lost in the moment, watching as their lips parted. As Regulus smiled brilliantly, laughing and leaning in to whisper something in the man’s ear. Watching him laugh too. James burned hotter with wicked jealousy, hands fisting. So focused that he didn’t even realize that Regulus was now staring straight through him. His bright smile staled, his half-lidded eyes gone wide, his mouth hanging open.

James’ breath caught in his throat. Wanting to look away, to fade into the crowd, but he was suddenly paralyzed. He watched as Regulus whispered into the man’s ear again. But this time, he wasn’t laughing. No, instead he was pulling away. Making a straight beeline to James at the bar. And shit, he looked furious. And fucking beautiful. But mostly, furious.

He grabbed James’ arm, yanking him close as he hissed in his ear, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

James could feel the heat radiating off of him, the hot touch of his hand. And God, there was something on him that smelled so good, the scent of cologne and sweet liquor hazing his thoughts for a minute before the words sunk in.

He raised a brow, “Here in New York or here in this-”

“All of it,” Regulus cut him off. He raised a finger to the bartender. She gave a single nod back.

James looked down his face, seeing the near seething rage in his tight jaw. He swallowed. “I have some meetings over here,” he told him. “I left you a voicemail.”

“I don’t-”

“Listen to them,” he sighed, having remembered too late. He should have texted him. But instead, he got all sentimental like always.

The bartender slid two shots, both of which Regulus threw back in quiet succession. Wiping his mouth against the back of his hand. “And how did you find your way into this club?” he raised a brow. “Hardly, seems like they’d let you in. Especially in that,” his eyes sunk down the length of James’ suit in disgust.

His lips pressed into a thin line, trying to remind himself why he was here. “I was on the street and this girl came out of nowhere and took my wallet. She dashed in here, but I can’t find her and-”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Regulus scoffed under his breath. “Blonde hair? Small? Crazed look in her eyes?”

James’ brows furrowed. “You know her?”

The man rolled his eyes, turning away. “Follow me,” he called over his shoulder.

James watched as he started to walk away, those dimples above his ass on perfect view for everyone to see. He tried to remember how he’d felt between his hands. He shook it off, pushing himself forward to follow him, weaving through the crowd as he tried to keep up with his quick steps.

Regulus led him to the back wall of the club, where exclusive booths lined along the dancefloor behind secure velvet rope. He weaved behind the bouncer there easily and without acknowledgement. James hesitantly followed, waiting to get stopped, but he never did.

They walked to the booth at the end of the row. Behind it, the blonde girl from the street was sitting, an unlit cigarette between her fingers. She was shaking a bottle of pills out into her hand, putting them into her mouth and swallowing them dry before chasing them with a clear drink.

“Pan,” Regulus put both of his hands to the table, leaning over her as she looked up with wide, doe eyes. “Does he look familiar?” he beckoned his head towards James.

“Mm,” she touched her finger to the tip of her pointed nose. “Saw him in a dream once. He had antlers. Could turn invisible if he put a blanket over himself.”

James glared at her, less than amused. “You stole my wallet. Like fifteen minutes ago? In the street?”

“Oh, right,” she snapped her fingers with a goofy grin. “That too.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “No more games. Give it back to him.”

Her lower lip pouted out, slipping the cigarette just behind her ear as she sat back into the booth, “Why should I?”

“He’s my client,” Regulus said through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” her mouth made the same shape as the sound, bright blue eyes suddenly lit from the inside. “Him.”

James nearly receded back into himself, wholeheartedly taken aback. He shared a fleeting glance with Regulus that did nothing to answer his ruminating questions.

“Pandora,” Regulus warned with cutting finality.

“Fine,” she scoffed, digging through her purse. “No fun.” She handed the wallet back to James.

He flipped it over in his hands, seeing his initials on it with a sigh of relief. He opened it, checking through his cards, his cash, his photostrip. Everything was there. “Thank you,” he piped up, forcing a smile back to her. He could see her smudged makeup, her bony wrists. He wondered what her story was. How long she’d been fending for herself like this. He felt a pang of guilt. He started to open his wallet again, “You know if you need money or something, I could-”

“She doesn’t need money,” Regulus said, putting a hand to his wallet. He leaned closer, speaking into his ear. “She’s the prima ballerina of the New York Ballet and her mom is the biggest magazine publisher in the goddamn city. The last thing she needs is money.”

James’ brows furrowed in confusion, pulling back to look into his face. Trying to understand, but it wasn’t lining up. “Then, why is she-”

Regulus ignored him, leaning forward to snatch the orange prescription bottle from off the table. “How many of these have you taken tonight?” he said, shaking it in front of her eyes.

She just looked up, eyes glittering in the club lights. She giggled.

“Goddamn it, Pan. I’m too drunk for this,” his fingers massaged at his temples, visibly trying to calm himself. “That’s it. Come on. You’re going home.”

“Noooo,” she whined. “I want to sleep on the street and have someone gut me open to harvest my organs. Recycle me back into the city. Such a romantic way to go, wouldn’t it be, James?”

His spine straightened, looking towards Regulus again, “How does she know my name?”

“That’s enough,” Regulus said firmly, silencing both of them. “You’re coming with me, Pandora.” He reached across the booth, prying her thin arm from her body and starting to drag her away. But she was weighing hard on his shoulder, dragging her stumbling feet with a small little grin on her face. Regulus struggled to keep them upright.

James quickly came forward, sliding under the weight of her other arm and lacing his hand around her back. Stabilizing the both of them. He watched as Regulus shot him a deadly look, nearly backing off, but didn’t when the man didn’t say anything. Just started to lead her out of the club with him.

When they were nearly to the door, James looked over towards the dancefloor, catching sight of that cropped-haired man moving to the music. He looked to Regulus, leaning in close over Pandora’s blonde hair. “Do you need to say goodbye to your…” he motioned to the dancefloor.

Regulus eyed the stranger for a moment, something unsettled right behind his expression. “No,” he shook his head. “Let’s just go.”

Once out on the street, the summer heat was warm enough to have sweat dripping down James’ back. Pandora was still stumbling, humming a tune just under her breath as they walked. It only lasted about two blocks before she had fallen silent, half conscious.

“Is she okay?” James asked, eyeing her slow blinking eyes.

“She’s fine,” Regulus assured him. “She knows her limit.”

James felt a bit uneasy about it, forced to trust Regulus’ word. “So, let me get this straight,” he said. “The girl is filthy rich and she still pickpockets me? Why the hell would she do that?”

“You act like you’ve never been rich before.”

“You make me feel like I haven’t.”

Regulus gave an unwilling smile, his eyes still on the sidewalk in front of them. “She’s bored, James,” he told him. “She’s had no parenting, no support. Her life has been a straight line laid out in front of her.”

“So, she’s trying to rebel?”

“Take back control,” he corrected. “Even if it means momentarily driving herself off a cliff.”

James shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t relate. My parents were-”

“Saints, I get it,” he scoffed. “Not everyone is so lucky.”

There was something there lingering in his response. Nearly an invitation to ask more about him. James restrained him, feeling like it was too personal. Like Regulus would shut down if he tried. He opted for a safer approach. “How do you know her?”

“We danced at the same studio when we were younger. Joined the same company after school. We were supposed to go all the way together. Only one of us did.”

“Do you resent her?” he asked. “For living your dream.”

“It was her dream too,” he said, looking over at her. “Plus, I love her too much.”

James felt something warm in his gut. Never having heard that word in the man’s mouth. Never having imagined who Regulus could love, friend or otherwise. It felt good to know something he loved, to be close enough to feel it. Feel what Regulus’ love was like. Rare sincerity in all his infuriatingly endearing facetiousness.

Pandora stirred briefly, moaning slightly as her head fell to Regulus’ shoulder.

“Pan, I swear to god, if you even think about throwing up on my shirt, I will destroy you.”

James smiled at the drastic slip back towards hyperbole, clutching Pandora’s waist a little tighter. Feeling Regulus’ side brush up against his knuckles, the hem of his shirt riding a little higher. Their skin brushing, sparking with electricity through the humidity. “Where are we taking her?”

“My place.”

“Is she your roommate?”

“No,” he shook his head. “But if she sleeps at her loft, there will be no one to wake her up for practice tomorrow and she’s already on thin ice with the director for sleeping with his partner.”

James choked out a laugh. “You two are cut from the same cloth, aren’t you?”

“Hardly,” he quipped. “If she was smarter, she’d be monetizing her sex life instead of pickpocketing naive strangers on the street.”

“Naive?” James’ eyes widened. “I’m from a city too, you know.”

Regulus huffed, “Not like this city, darling.”

James’ ears burned hot at the pet name, stomach fluttering at just how much he’d missed him. He watched his profile, relishing just how handsome he was. But something else was itching at his brain relentlessly. “Regulus,” he asked, eyes casting back down to the sidewalk. “Are you sure you want me to come to your house. Because I can just drop her outside, I don’t need to-”

“Don’t make it weird, Potter,” Regulus said, motioning down another cross street with an incline of his head. “Down this way.”

When they finally reached Regulus’ house, James was positive that the man was too drunk to locate his own place. Afterall, James had hardly pictured a beautiful, historic multi-level townhouse in the heart of Manhattan. He was shocked as they helped Pandora up the steps, Regulus grabbing his keys and unlocking the door.

As soon as the door opened, James was frozen in his place, unable to move. The whole foyer screamed opulence in a way that he hadn’t ever imagined. His eyes first scaling up to the ceilings. They were toweringly high, gridded in gorgeous, intertwining dark woodwork. Emerald green stained glass windows cast eerie shadows across the grayed antique rugs. A sweeping staircase led to upper levels. Expensive art hung on every wall, leaving no space unadorned. Even in the shadows, James could see how breathtakingly palatial it was.

Regulus tried to drag Pandora in, held back by James’ immobility. He looked back at him, confused.

James swallowed, speaking low like he was in a church. A place where reverence was needed. “I thought we were going to your place,” he muttered.

Regulus’ expression was somewhere unreadable. Nearly annoyed. “Welcome,” he said tightly. “Let’s take her upstairs.”

James reanimated, carefully pulling Pandora over the threshold and locking the door behind him. He had a hard time keeping his eyes level as they still roamed the space, watching every portrait eye him as they made their way up the stairs. Even the black and white photographs of blurry family members felt like editorials.

“First door on the left,” Regulus groaned, hoisting Pandora’s increasingly lifeless body higher up his shoulder.

James complied, taking her into what seemed to be a moderately guest bedroom. Dove gray walls and cream tones with a pretty iron filigree bed frame. Even in the low light, he could feel how pretty and moody and feminine it was, making him wonder if Regulus had designed the place himself. If he had any help.

They eased her onto the bed, Regulus tucking her in carefully under the sheets and sweeping her long hair off her neck. James watched from further back, relishing the softness Regulus handled her with. Feeling mesmerized by the subtle touches of his hands that seemed to communicate their deep friendship. It made James feel like he was peeking into Regulus’ most personal places, not sure if it was thrilling or terrifying to feel entrusted with them.

“Go to sleep, Pan,” Regulus whispered, giving her limp hand a squeeze as the sound of her dreamy breathing started carrying her off to sleep. He got up with a sigh, carrying himself from the room.

James followed him, carefully shutting Pandora’s door behind him and going to the room across the hall that was the kitchen. It was a narrow galley style with black and white star tiles that went up the walls to the backsplashes. James watched as Regulus went to a liquor cabinet, pulling out something clear and pouring himself a glass.

James leaned into the marble counter, “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Not nearly enough,” Regulus muttered before throwing back. He offered the empty cup towards him. “What about you?”

“Sure,” he said, letting Regulus pour him something. He threw it back too, with far less grace as he choked out a cough. It was strong gin, all bite. Regulus had made it look easy. “Good God,” he groaned, wiping his mouth.

The man kept a huff of laughter under his breath as he hoisted himself up onto the counter, feet swinging. Something hard to reach under the surface as he watched James with a smoldering glint in the deep navy of his eyes. “So, tell me again about why you are here?”

James licked the taste off his lip, feeling uneasy under his stare. “I’m in town on business,” he explained like it was his proof of innocence. “Visiting some donors who live here.”

“You didn’t intend on seeing me?”

“I-” he thought about it, working out the words. “I always want to see you. But I had no plans of finding you if you didn’t want to be found.”

“But you did anyway.”

“Incidentally, yes,” he felt at the back of his neck, nervously. “Suffice to say, I didn’t mean to.”

“And now, you’re in my house,” he breathed like he couldn’t believe it himself.

James looked around. “It’s stunning.”

“Thanks.”

“How can you…” James bit the tip of his tongue. Trying to be careful to not insult him. “I’m sure the rent is wild.”

“I own it.”

“You-” James’ eyes widened. “How?”

“How do you own your place? You have a job. I have a job.”

“Of course you do,” James blurted out, backtracking already. “It’s just… this place is for… millionaires. Billionaires. Real estate like this is historic. Priceless.”

“And so am I,” he said with a smirk.

James’ tense shoulders dropped, lips pulling up at the corners. “I’m not getting any other answers, am I?”

“About the house?” Regulus raised a brow. “Not a chance.” He slid off the countertop, beckoning James’ with a crooked finger. “Come.”

James followed closely behind, noticing the slight wavering of Regulus’ steps as they went up another flight of stairs. Into a room at the end of the hall, where James found himself stopping in his tracks again. His eyes raised to the back wall of the room, charcoal gray and meticulously embellished with monochromatic molding. The expansive bed sat in shades of black. Towering above the bed a chandelier hung, its crystal refracting the moonlight flooding in from outside. So overwhelmingly opulent and grand and beautiful that James would have never even begun to picture this as Regulus’ room.

The man went to his dresser, flicking on a vintage lamp and starting to take off the layered necklaces he had on, shove the silver bracelets off his wrists. He reached for the short hem of his sheer shirt, pulling it off his body and casting it towards a hamper.

James’ breath caught in his lungs, feeling like a fly on the wall. Like he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be seeing all of this. It was so overwhelmingly intimate, like Regulus had dragged him in past boundaries he never even imagined himself crossing.

He tried to breathe, tried to lean naturally into the doorway. “So,” he started, eyes darting to the carpet. “That guy at the club you were with. Is he your…”

“He’s my nothing, James.”

“I just wondered. Since you were… kissing him or whatever.”

“Barty is just a friend.”

“Then, why were you-”

“Kissing him?” Regulus snapped to look at him, a taunting brightness shining behind his eyes. “Because I wanted to. Because I can.”

James bit his tongue again, “Right. Of course, you can.” He watched as Regulus went to sit on the edge of his bed. And in the silence that followed, stretching out between them like the city was miles away, he floundered, drowning in open water. He unglued himself from the doorway, “Hey, maybe I should get back to my hotel. Let you get some rest.”

“Where are you staying?” Regulus asked, drawing a bare knee up into his chest to put his chin to it.

James caught his eyes again, stopping to stare like he was some mythical thing. Watching the way his foot swung off the bed, his head tilted against his knee. Planes of milky white skin to soak in. “It’s a couple blocks from Times Square.”

“Christ,” Regulus rolled his eyes through a smile. “You won’t get an ounce of sleep there. Just take a guest bedroom for the night.”

James froze. Insides pulled into two. Caught between shock and delight. Wondering when the snarky punchline was coming, but not caring as long as he got to live in this fantasy for a few more moments. “A guest bedroom?” he felt the smirk against his mouth. “Your bed looks big enough for two.”

“Absolutely not.”

James smiled wider, slowly daring himself to come closer. Loosening the tie around his neck before he let his hands press onto either side of the bed, entrapping Regulus between his arms. “We’ve done this before you know,” he murmured.

“No,” he said, more firmly. Glare challenging.

“Why else would you want me to stay here?”

He shrugged, “Maybe I’m a generous drunk.”

“Evidently not that generous.”

Regulus laughed, leaning back onto his elbows and leaving all of himself out on full display. “You are in my house. You are not paying me. So you will stay in a guest room.”

James didn’t move, instead letting his eyes roam him like he was the most beautiful thing in this stunning house. The crown jewel of it all. He smiled, laugh twisting up his lip between his teeth, “Regulus.”

“What?” he passively reached up, lacing his hands around James’ neck.

James leaned closer, pressing their cheeks together as he whispered into his ear, “I missed you,” he whispered. “Missed you like crazy.”

James felt as Regulus’ hands went still at his neck, waiting to be pushed off, told off. Told to go to the guest bedroom and go to sleep. But it never came. Instead, he felt Regulus slip out from under him, down to the floor between his feet. On his knees as he started to sneakily reach up, setting his fingers against the imprecise outline of James’ cock through his dress pants.

James choked around his breath, shuddering as his fingers gripped tight into the sheets. Daring to look down at Regulus on his knees.

The man’s eyes were intently staring at where they touched, watching his hand press down a little intent. James felt himself firming out under his touch, watching as Regulus’ fingers walked themselves to the fly of James’s dress pants and peeled him open to touch him through less layers. Eventually coaxing James’ cock free from his pants, leaving it on display in front of his face.

James’ heavy gasp caught in his throat, standing straight to better see Regulus’ face just inches from his tip. It was dizzying, making him want to strip off everything and throw the man to the sheets, but he restrained. Wanting to see what would happen next without his intervention.

Regulus leaned in, tongue peeking out and teasing James’ tip like he was curiously tasting him. Before he closed his eyes and slid down the length of him.

James’ felt his thighs quiver, his veins rush warm as Regulus’ soft, wet mouth slid along him. His chest heaved, eyes glazing over as he watched Regulus pull off with a pop and look up at him. His navy eyes lit brighter than any star James had ever seen, holding a teasing playfulness that James felt devastated by. Knowing that he was just a toy and not caring. How could he when Regulus felt this good?

The man licked at his tip again, lapping at it as James’s stare weighed heavier. He took him in his mouth, not needing his hands as he started to go deeper. Long, languid strokes that didn’t rush. His eyes closed peacefully,

James’s breath stuttered, his pulse throbbed against Regulus’ tongue. A thousand needy words echoing in his ear as he tried to hold himself firm, but even he could feel the desperation still bled through. Wanting to take Regulus’ head between his hands and fuck into his perfect mouth, but holding back. Finding bliss in watching, in feeling every satisfying stroke of his lips.

He felt Regulus’ pace grow hungrier, deeper again until his lips were brushing the skin between James’ hips like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like he was born for it. James couldn’t help it anymore as he reached down, fingers tangling into Regulus’s dark hair. Fervently pulling him in again.

But Regulus fought against it, pulling off of him and looking up into his eyes. “Don’t,” he said, bluntly. “This isn’t for you.”

The corner of James’s mouth teased upward into a smirk. The grip in Regulus’s hair softening. “Then who’s it for?” he asked.

Regulus held his eyes. Firm and unwavering. “This is for me.”

James’s smirk fell, mouth hanging open like he was trying to keep whatever noise in the back of his throat to himself. Jutting out his hips a little more to get closer to Regulus’s mouth. That hand in his hair going gentle as it fondled the demure curve of his neck, his touch totally different from the zealousness it had held moments ago.

Regulus sank back over him, working him firmer now. Deep motions of his mouth, tongue curling around him. Winding James tighter with just his mouth.

“Fuck, Reg,” James whimpered, throwing his head back as his hips rolled up into his mouth. It must have empowered him to quicken his pace, making James’s chest and arms go taut. His muscles constricting under the skin. Precum leaking against Regulus’s tongue. James wondered if he could taste his weak desperation heightening.

James moaned wildly, looking back down at him with bleary eyes. Breaths wild as his eyebrows creased together. Those pathetic little breaths in his chest pitching slightly higher.

Regulus suddenly pulled off, rising up to his feet and standing opposite James. He removed his glasses, folding them up and sliding them into his shirt pocket. His fingers tugged at his necktie, tossing it away before he hurriedly pulled apart his buttons. He pushed his shirt off his shoulders, reaching for the hem of his undershirt.

James felt his head go too light, nearly about to pass out. Overstimulated and easing back off his impending climax as he watched Regulus undress him. Watched his long, pretty fingers skitter across his heaving chest like he was controlling the very pulse beneath.

Regulus sat back on the bed, backpedaling towards the pillows as his gleaming eyes seemed to wordlessly call James forward.

James didn’t hesitate to follow, crawling up towards him with locked eyes as he lingered over him. Everything about it feeling decidedly different from their other encounters. But it all was moving so fast, he couldn’t put a finger on why.

Regulus hastily pulled off his last item of clothing, letting it fall to the floor as he laid stark naked below him. Reaching up to James’ open waist to shuck the last of his clothes off too before he pushed James’ to the bed and sat himself in his lap.

James was panting, laying back against the pillows as Regulus hovered. The man’s hands leaned to either side of James’ head. Their faces were so close now. James would only have to lean up a couple of inches to meet his mouth. He watched as Regulus’ gaze sunk down his face, landing on his lips.

Regulus’ hand brushed down the side of James’ face, coming up under his chin. His thumb began to trace the edge of his upper lip, nudging it open. Watching as it smoothed across the perimeter to his bottom lip, pulling his mouth open a bit wider.

Something bold in James’ arched up, slowly as his eyes fell closed. Imagining the impending press of Regulus’ mouth like it would ready him to remember the feeling forever. His hands ghosted up Regulus’ thighs, squeezing at his tight hips. He tilted his head up, letting the man’s breath intermingle with his. And when he finally felt the sensation at his lips, it wasn’t the softness of a kiss. No, it was slick, warm, dripping into his open mouth.

James’ eyes fluttered open, watching the trail of saliva strung between their mouths. Weighing heavier until it was trickling against his tongue. He felt Regulus’ thumb push into his mouth, mixing into it on the soft palate. It tasted sweet, like he’d been drinking something cavity-inducing back at the club, but there was the subtle taste of pre-cum there as well, contrasting it. James felt the very idea of a kiss dissipate from his mind, diluting those warm, romantic feelings and slipping him into a weaker state.

Regulus took back the thumb from James’ mouth, bringing it up to his own to run it across his tongue. Taste it for himself.

James felt everything in him constrict tight with an impulsive need for him. “I like that,” he whispered into the narrowed space between them.

Regulus licked his thumb clean, “Yeah?”

James gulped, his hands working up Regulus’ ribs. Smooth, open planes of skin all his for the taking. He slipped his fingers back, curling around his ass. Trailing along his entrance. Smiling at the way it made the man shudder.

Regulus leaned over to the bedside, reaching into a drawer and tossing a bottle of lube to James’ chest. “Just do it,” he said, perhaps more breathlessly than he had intended.

James laughed, sitting up a little as he coated his fingers. Returning them to Regulus’ entrance and swirling around there. Relishing the needy little arch of the man’s back as he seemed to ask for them. And while part of James was tempted to toy with him, he didn’t want to feel the bite of Regulus’ anger tonight. He slipped inside of him, watching his brows fold together. A hiss in his mouth that James could have gotten lost in.

James expected protest when he carefully flipped Regulus, but got none. So he poised over top of him again as he returned a finger inside him, adding another. But Regulus just arched up into his touch, half-lidded eyes flickering up to his face as he released a moan from deep in his pink-flushed chest. James’ thoughts went haywire, jaw clenching with want as he tried his best to exercise patience. Working his fingers into Regulus, pressing the man’s knee into his chest just to better his access, his view.

It briefly crossed his mind that Regulus was letting him have more control than he ever typically did. More than James had ever expected to get. Maybe because he was drunk. Maybe because he had wanted to be taking that Barty person home tonight. Maybe he was settling for James. Maybe it was convenient more than anything. But in the moment, James couldn’t find it in himself to care. Deadset on making Regulus glad it was him.

He grabbed the back of Regulus’ neck, drawing him up higher onto the bed until his back was up against the headboard. James drew his fingers out, slicking them alongside his heavy cock before letting his hands rest on the headboard, entrapping Regulus between them. He weighed his hips back for a purposeful moment, feeling the both of them watching as James thrust into him. He groaned, feeling the space he had made for himself tense beautifully around his cock.

Regulus whimpered, fingers tangling behind James’ head to pull at his dark hair. He arched into him, their warm bodies pressing into one firm line as James’ continued to crowd Regulus into the headboard, continued to rut his hips up into him. Regulus’s tiny little sounds at every thrust made both of their chests rumble. His fingers desperately scratching at James’s neck and fisting into his hair twice as hard.

James didn’t let up, keeping the motion of his hips steady as he could feel Regulus’s hard, leaking cock glide between the dewy skin of their torsos meeting.

Regulus moaned loud, nearly crawling up the headboard. “Like that, like that,” he squirmed.

James upped the momentum as he pulled back just enough to watch Regulus’s face. Hand going under his chin to lift it up. Tracing his thumb around the edge of Regulus’s open mouth. Feeling each little breath against the pad of his finger.

“Don’t stop,” Regulus nearly sobbed, sharp teeth grating against his thumb. “Please.”

“Never,” James whispered, unable to stop watching as Regulus edged closer to his limit. “You first, every time.”

Regulus’s eyebrows titled up in the middle as he bit down on the tip of James’s thumb. Trying to ground himself. He nodded. “Me first,” he mumbled, growing incoherent. “Fuck, me first.”

James had half a mind to withdraw his thumb and replace it with his mouth. Lick into Regulus and feel him give just as much back. But he had no way of knowing if Regulus would accept it, stuffing the thought away for later. James kicked his hips as hard as he could up into Regulus, feeling the wild throb of Regulus’ cock sliding between their skins. Feeling every inch of his flesh go tighter and tighter until it was too much.

Regulus’s mouth fell open. His eyes going black, swallowing up their own precious sparkle as they glazed. “James,” he choked out, body caving into him as he painted himself onto the skin between them.

And James let go too. His hips stifling for a final deep thrust into Regulus as he released, muscles going stiff for a long pause. Just staring unblinking into Regulus’s face, his shimmering chest. He tried to breathe, pushing his hair off his face.

“Shit,” Regulus cursed, sinking down to the bed and wiping a thin layer of sweat off his forehead. “Fuck.”

“What?” James held his face, drawing his eyes upward. “What’s wrong?”

Regulus’ throat bobbed as he gulped, the light in his eyes going dull, shadowed. He blinked, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he breathed. “I’m just… drunker than I thought.”

James could only hear alarm bells in it. “I’m sorry,” he rushed to say. “Did you not want to… Did I-”

“No, no,” Regulus repeated with a wave of his hand. “It’s fine. I…” his words trailed off. He resealed his mouth, tighter before he spoke. “It’s not fine.”

James stared at him, unable to speak. Panic settling deep into his bones.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, James,” he admitted like it hurt. “I don’t know why I brought you here. I don’t know why I did that.”

James sat back, drawing his hands away. Feeling like a dangerous creature. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Did I do something wrong?”

Regulus worked his hands into his hair, groaning frustrated. “No,” he nearly whined. “No, you didn’t.”

James tried to calm the race of his heart, looking on at Regulus with a mix of concern and pity. Seeing something in their dynamic pulling him apart and not knowing how to help. Not knowing what he was doing, how to fix it. “Come here,” he finally said, reaching out to draw Regulus closer. Laying the both of them down under the covers and feeling the man bury into his chest, against his distressed heartbeat.

James let his hand paint down Regulus’ bare back, staring up at the dark ceiling like it would provide him some sort of guidance. A manual, a translation. It never did.

“Talk to me,” James whispered through the dark. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Regulus gripped him tighter. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

He froze, anxiety all consuming. “Why?” he asked, hearing it come out too sharp. “Because I’m your client?”

“Because of a lot of reasons.”

James exhaled deeply, reaching for Regulus’ face. Pulling it up close to his own so he could look in his eyes, hoping to understand. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he murmured. “Do you want me to pay? Is that it? Because if it will make it better-”

“It’s not that simple anymore, James,” Regulus shook his head.

His brows furrowed. “Why not?”

Regulus held his stare, cheek twitching to one side. Breath held tight in his chest. “I don’t know what I’m saying,” he told him. “I should probably go to sleep.”

James felt so unsettled, not knowing what it all meant. Hating how Regulus was closing up right between his arms, but feeling powerless to stop it. He reeled with thoughts of desperate confessions, frantic bargaining, endless pleading. But the words wouldn’t come up into his mouth. “Okay,” he said weakly.

Regulus curled himself into James. He slung an arm across chest, nuzzling his cheek into his shoulder. Letting their warm bodies press close, their legs tangle, their irregular heartbeats align until they drifted off as one.

Chapter Text

When James’ eyes blinked open, the room around him was different than he had remembered it. No longer draped in darkness, the charcoal walls were a softer wash of deep gray, the black of the sheets glimmering nearly pearlescent in the morning light streaming in through the tall windows. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the dark ceiling and feeling the memories of last night drag him over hot coals again. The feeling of Regulus’ warm, soft mouth around him, slipping against his fingers. The taste of his liquor-sweet mouth. So vivid that he felt like he could fall back asleep and slip back there like a dream that was just beyond his consciousness. His eyes cast to the side, seeing the empty space next to him. Feeling through the sheets for their warmth, the creased outline of Regulus’ imprint still was there.

James rolled out of bed, grabbing his glasses and finding his way to Regulus’ closet to help himself to something more comfortable than the suit he had been wearing last night. His eyes swept across the racks and racks of designer clothes. Some of it that oversized streetwear that they had first met in, while other racks held more formal attire. James briefly considered how much of it was curated for his work, who Regulus might be without the need to keep up appearances.

He flicked through the hangers for a moment before something caught his eye. Still wrapped in a dry cleaning bag, James recognized his own clothes. The ones that Regulus had borrowed on his last day in Seattle. He wondered how long they’d been hanging there and what Regulus had planned to do with them. Had he ever intended on returning them? Speaking to James ever again? Or had he kept them as some sort of reminder, a warning to stay away? Had James ruined that by barging back into his life? The very thought twisted like a knife in his chest.

He unwrapped the clothes from their bag, sliding them on and knowing he had liked them better on Regulus, before carefully padding downstairs. He could hear the faint sound of tinkering in the kitchen, slipping into the doorway to watch as Regulus was making coffee. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants low on his hips, leaning into the counter as he poured the kettle. His hair all mused to one side as the long plane of his back, the off-center of his shoulder blades, shone brilliant in the light coming in the leaded windows.

“Good morning,” James said softly, trying to not scare him.

Regulus didn’t look, kept his eyes focused on the dripping coffee. “Morning.”

James couldn’t yet tell who he was getting this morning, hoping it wasn’t the catastrophizing boy between his arms from last night. He came closer, leaning back onto the counter next to him, “Did Pandora make it to her practice alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing two mugs and starting to pour them. He put one close to James’ hand. “We’re out of milk.”

“That’s fine,” he reached for the coffee, just to have something to do with his hands. Fingers drumming against the warmth. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, James. I’m just hungover.”

“Do you need anything? I could run out and-”

“No, I don’t need anything.”

James marinated in the quiet, not knowing what it meant. “Look, Regulus. About last night…”

The man finally raised his eyes to him, they were sleepy, half-lidded. So deeply navy that James was tempted to dive right in. But they were somber too, tired in a way that was deeper than the hangover. As if James would have never been able to keep his head above water in the storm of currents they held.

James put his coffee down on the counter, swallowing down his sentimentality. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Regulus’ brows twinged together in the center. “Do what?”

“Any of it,” James urged. “This is your house. Your bed. I don’t want you to think you have to surrender your safest places to a client. And maybe it was my fault for pushing you to-”

“Is that what you think?” he narrowed his eyes. “That you forced me to fuck you? That I didn’t want it?”

James thought back to last night. Regulus had been drunk, had said that James would sleep elsewhere. But then he’d done other things that had said the opposite. James couldn’t piece apart reality from how good it had made him feel, couldn’t revisit it impartially. “Maybe not forced,” he corrected. “But perhaps I pressured you. Even inadvertently. Even with just my presence.

“You didn’t pressure me to do anything,” Regulus shook his head, eyes averting again. “I wanted to.”

James didn’t know why his tone made it sound like some fatal error he had made. “Do you regret it?” he asked. “Do you regret bringing me here? Doing that?”

“No,” he murmured, through a strained voice. “Never.”

James felt the pull of his insides, tugging him into multiple directions. There was a darkness in Regulus’ tone that made him feel so hopeless, alongside semantics that spoke differently. He didn’t know which to trust, forced to listen to his own intuition instead. A perpetual voice nagging to be closer to him. James came up behind Regulus, lacing his arms around his middle. Feeling the way it made Regulus instantly exhale, tension in shoulders loosening. James put his chin to Regulus’ shoulder, smelling his skin and feeling the chemistry of his brain change, releasing a flood of relief as he gripped him tighter. As if everything in him was telling him that as long as he had this, he’d be okay. He dared to believe it.

Regulus turned in his arms, leaning back against the counter and looking up at him.

James saw the way the blue in his eyes had shifted, rough seas falling quiet. He reached up, holding Regulus’ face in his hands and guiding his chin up to look closer. Painting down his lovely features to land at his lips, aching deep like it was cure to all their unease just out of reach. “Please,” he whispered, leaning into him. “Give me permission.”

“To?”

“Kiss you.”

Regulus eyed James’ mouth, a glaze over his face as he became lost in thought. He tilted his head to the side, looking up to James as he offered him his neck.

James didn’t need any more formal of an invitation, ducking down and putting his lips to the warm skin. He pressed each kiss deeper than the last, trying to convey a million meanings he couldn’t say. He trailed them up to Regulus’ ear, just behind it where the skin pulled taut at the edge of his hair. He sunk his teeth in.

Regulus’ shoulder shriveled with a hiss, his hands instinctively going to James’ back to fist into his shirt. Nearly like he was planning on yanking him away but he didn’t.

James licked at the skin there, dipping deeper into the crux of his neck to do the same. Nipping and sucking the flesh into his mouth to feel it swell. Mouthing against it until he was confident it would leave a mark in the milkiness. A manifestation of James’ neediness for all to see.

Regulus squirmed under his bite, trying to breathe but each were coming out increasingly erratic. His hips kicking up when James bit down again, mouth falling open in a moan.

A clock from somewhere deep inside the house chimed, pulling James’ mouth away in a hurry. He looked down at Regulus’ hazed eyes, his panting chest. “What time is it?”

Regulus grimaced, shaking his head, “I don’t know. Eleven?”

“Shit,” James hissed. “Fuck. I gotta go. I have meeting, I have-”

Regulus’ expression fell, eyes rounder with disappointment, “Do you have to?”

James’ went still, reading so much on him that he was shocked to see in such stunning clarity. He momentarily wondered if Marlene could make do without him.

Regulus seemed to shake the thought away, his hands softer now as they smoothed down James’ sides through his shirt. “How long are you here?”

“Two more days.”

He looked up at him, softness layered behind his expression. “Can you call me when you’re done today?”

“Are you sure?” James breathed.

There was a clench in his jaw that seemed to speak for him, communicating habitual hesitancy. Loosening again like he was having to manually correct it. “Yes,” he nodded.

“Okay,” James said, mouth pulling up at the corners. “I’ll call you. Well, meet up.” He leaned in, letting his mouth press into the man’s cheek. Nearly swearing he could feel him lean into it. And when he pulled away, Regulus kept a breath tight in his chest, holding it like he wouldn’t let it go till James was gone.

James caught up with Marlene, Lucius, and Narcissa at their second venue of the day, a rooftop bar that overlooked the skyline. It was modern and minimal, all glass and steel. Narcissa and Lucius were having a strongly-worded conversation with the person showing them around. Something about needing a full-service staff. James and Marlene were leaning into the balcony, decidedly staying out of it.

“Where were you this morning?” Marlene asked, a judgmental quirk in her brow.

James had expected the question, seen it written on her face ever since he’d appeared with an apology and a smile. “I overslept,” he offered the half-truth, keeping his eyes on the skyline. He could feel the slight sweat dappling his back from the brutal summer sun overheard, increasingly in need of a cold drink.

“Yet you never came to your room last night?”

His brows furrowed, looking over at her. “How would you know?”

She rolled her eyes, fanning herself, “Because when I came down this morning, the front desk asked me if I’d still be needing it. If I wanted your bags put in my room.”

James felt caught, fidgeting with his hands. “I was visiting a friend,” he told her. “Did I miss anything?”

For a moment, she looked like she wouldn’t let him get away with dropping it. But then something in her seemed to let it go, sighing heavily as she adjusted the claw clip in her hair. “So far? They hate everything I scouted for them,” she murmured out the corner of her mouth. “I’m calling it right now that we aren’t going to find a place today.”

James looked around at the balcony around them. “This one seems fine,” he shrugged. “Why do they hate it?”

As if hearing him, Narcissa called across the balcony. “It’s too small, isn’t it, James?” she smiled tightly. “And miserably hot for the summer.”

“Forgive me,” he winced. “What exactly did you both have in mind in terms of size?”

“Nothing outlandish,” Lucius adjusted the buttons on his suit, permanent smugness pulled tight in his mouth. “Perhaps a thousand?”

“A thousand?” James’ eyes widened.

Lucius met his eyes, raising a blonde brow. “Is that a problem?”

James looked over to Marlene, who seemed to be wearing a clear look of I told you so. He cleared his throat, “Well, it’s our east coast debut. Maybe we should start a bit more humbly. I mean how would that many people even want to come.”

“James, we are hardly new to this,” Lucius laughed. “Our annual stockholders meeting typically has several thousand attendees.”

“This isn’t a stockholder meeting. It’s a charity event,” he reminded him.

The tone went a bit more tense, Lucius’ smile falling as he wandered closer. His hands laced behind his back. “They aren’t very different. Showcasing your organization? Trying to inspire a vote of confidence in your mission? Sounds remarkably similar to me.”

James looked back to Marlene, seeing the twist of disdain pulling at her mouth like she too knew he had a point.

“You are worrying far too much, James,” Narcissa urged. “You and Maria can relax knowing that we have this handled.”

“Marlene,” she corrected, firmly.

“Of course,” Narcissa smiled tightly. “Thank you, Marlene.”

They continued on to three more venues, being walked around the properties by finely suited staff that waited on them hand and foot. A hotel ballroom that was “too pedestrian”. An art gallery that was “too bohemian”. A brewery that the couple barely stepped into before promptly exiting with a disgusted shake of their heads.

“Well,” Marlene stood out on the sidewalk, next to the car that had been taking the four of them around for the day. “Perhaps our next step is meeting up tomorrow to discuss some of the finer details of the event. Out of those conversations we can decide how we want to move forward with venue selection.”

“Agreed,” Lucius said. “Clearly more conversations need to be had before we jump into a contract with a beer garden.” Making it sound like the most outrageous thing he’d ever heard. “My office tomorrow at eleven. My assistant will forward you both the address.”

“Thank you, Lucius. And Narcissa,” James waved as they got into the backseat and drove off. Leaving Marlene and James both breathing freely for what felt like the first time in hours.

“What did I say?” Marlene singsonged. “I knew this would be torture.”

“And I am so, so grateful for you putting up with them,” James put a hand to her shoulder. “This is why you get paid the big bucks.”

“They could be bigger.”

“It’s still a non-profit at the end of the day.”

“Fair enough,” she shrugged. “Now I’m going back in this brewery for a much needed flight or two. You coming?”

He watched her, perhaps something uneasy in his face, his stance.

“Oh,” she perked, looking him up and down like she was reading him. “Visiting that friend again?”

He felt over exposed, tempted to run and hide. “Yes,” he said firmly, like a warning to not push the topic any further.

“Well, alright,” she said with a contrived smile, an artificial lilt to her voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Don’t be late this time.”

“I won’t,” he assured, watching her go before turning back down the street and walking off. He pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing Regulus’ number. His pulse quickened at just the thought of him, anticipation heightening as he dared to wonder what the night offered them.

“Good afternoon, flavored lube global ambassador speaking.”

James smiled to himself, eyes drifting up to the skyscrapers just to feel the summer sun on his face. Replicating the warmth Regulus made him feel. “Ah, yes. I was calling about an issue with my shipment.”

“What was your name?”

“James Potter. I think I ordered the pina colada flavor.”

“I see you here. The 55 gallon drum? Having a party?”

James laughed, looking both ways before crossing a busy street. “Work event. It’s for the slip and slide.”

“You know, that isn’t the first time we’ve heard that,” Regulus giggled. Settling with a smile in his voice, “How was work?”

“It was… a waste of my time to be honest,” he sighed raggedly. “I would have much rather spent the day with you.”

“Mm. Ain’t that a pity,” he hummed. “How about you spend the night with me instead?”

James could hear the suggestion in his voice, feeling something low in his stomach twist. Not caring about last night and the fraught tension that had been inexplicable. Rejoicing in the levity once again. “Where should I go?” he asked, keeping his voice lower from the circle of pedestrians around him.

“Go back to your hotel. Get ready. And I’ll send a car for you in an hour.”

“A car?” James smiled. “Who is the escort now?”

“Enough,” Regulus laughed. “I’ll see you soon.”

James still texted Regulus the whole walk back to the hotel, prodding him about what to wear, what to expect. Regulus was tight lipped as always, just saying that he should wear something nice. When James got back to his hotel, quickly showering last night’s grime away, he hopped into one of the other suits he had brought to meet with the Malfoys. Slipping the knot of his tie up his neck just as he got Regulus’ text to come down.

When he reached the hotel doors, there was a limo sitting out front. He stopped in his tracks, knowing this couldn’t have been for him, until the driver was opening the door, beckoning his head. “Mr. Potter,” he said.

James was momentarily frozen, in something like awe before he nodded to the driver, ducking into the car.

Regulus was sitting with his arms stretched out across the seats. He was wearing shorts, a sweatshirt that overwhelmed him. Some ballet company emblazoned across the front. He had delicate silver chains around his neck, huge sunglasses in his hair. A smile across his face.

“I thought you said dress nice?” James gawked, looking down at his suit and feeling entirely overdressed.

“You do look nice,” Regulus smirked. “So do I.”

“You look like my teen son.”

“Stepson,” he corrected. “I could get into that.”

James scoffed through his smile, beckoning to the limo around them. “And what’s all this? Why did you get this?”

Regulus shrugged. “I can’t drive. I like free drinks,” he reached over, grabbing a fresh champagne flute filled to the top. Passing it to him as the car started moving.

“Am I paying for this?” James took it, staring at it. So confused.

“Not monetarily,” Regulus shrugged. “Just roll with it.” He raised a flute for himself, clinking their glasses together before taking a sip.

James felt the bubbles hit his mouth, effervescent in how they danced. Loosening his posture as he slid closer to Regulus, put an arm around him, “What did you do all day? Think of me.”

“No,” Regulus said firmly, taking another sip. “I was working, too.”

James stared down at him, smile crumbling. “Did you see anyone?”

“Just some phone calls, some texts,” he shrugged, looking out the window towards the passing buildings.

James briefly felt concern seeping through the cracks, forced to remember that there were other men in Regulus’ phone who were sending him money, wanting to see more of him. See the parts that James held close to his heart like they were just his. Were they his? He couldn’t tell anymore. The taste of champagne went sour on his tongue.

Regulus leaned into chest, looking up at him. “What?”

James got entrapped by his eyes, the soft blues that were reflecting the blue summer skies pouring in from the sunroof. Clouds floating by as they drove. Something in the very lowest parts of him wanted to be possessive and jealous, but everything else just wanted a piece of him, no matter what he would give. “No,” he shook his head. “I’m just glad to be here. On this date with you.”

“Slow down. It’s not a date.”

James grinned again, “How is this not a date?”

Regulus pulled slightly away, “Consider me an unofficial tour guide. That is all. Okay?”

James could see the smile in his eyes, threatening to twist into his lips. He nodded, “Okay. Lead the way.”

James was surprised when their driver dropped them off outside a dingy looking pizza place, looking up at the neon glowing red sign. “Is this our gourmet restaurant for the evening?” he asked, looking over at Regulus beside him.

“No, it’s far, far better,” he said, grabbing James’ hand and going inside.

Regulus took care of ordering at the counter, grabbing them each two slices to go before pulling out his wallet.

“No, wait,” James tried to stop him. “I can-”

“What did I say, Potter?” he shot him glare. “Roll with it.”

James retracted, let him pay, grabbing their slices and heading out. Following Regulus who led them across the street to a large park. There were kids chasing each other across the grass as nannies watched on, toasted skin sunbathers packing up their bags as the sun was setting now. James and Regulus both took a seat at the fountain as they started to dig into their slices.

“So,” James looked over the park. “Is this a typical haunt for you?”

“It’s the best slice in the city. You can quote me on it,” he said through a full mouth. “I’d be doing you a disservice if I didn’t share it with you.”

James took an experimental bite. “It’s a hell of a lot better than anything in Seattle.”

“It’s twenty-four hour, too,” he offered. “Me and Pandora and Barty have ended our night there too many times to count.”

James felt the same idea stick in the forefront of his thoughts, disrupting any hope to think past it. “How long have you known Barty?”

Regulus kept his eyes low, shrugging with feigned carelessness, “A while.”

“And what’s he do?”

“Sex work,” he twirled the crust between his fingers. “Same as me.”

James felt something shrivel in him, not having expected that. Immediately wondering how it had bonded them. If that bond was too great for James to begin competing with. “But you’re just friends?”

Regulus met his gaze, something haughty in his eyes. “Are you saying we can’t be?”

“No,” James shook his head, defensively withdrawing in on himself. “I just… I don’t make out with my friends.”

Regulus took a long time to finish off his slice, to talk again. “You know when you’re going through something? Something bad, something… depressive even. And when it's happening you can’t help but just keep bottling it up, letting it eat away at you. And finally, one day you can’t take it anymore. And you have to put on something. Bambi or the Smiths or whatever. And just let yourself cry.”

James watched him, thinking back to when his parents had passed. To his divorce. “Yeah,” he nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Barty is like my Bambi,” Regulus told him. “But instead of sadness, it’s something else. Sentimentality or something. He’s a safe place to bury all that stuff.”

James wanted to scream, shout that he could be his safe place. He could be trusted. He could handle all of those feelings Regulus had and make them worth something. But then again, perhaps he wasn’t safe. Perhaps he was the cause of some of those feelings. “Does he know he’s your Bambi?” he lifted a brow. “Nothing else?”

“Yeah, he does,” Regulus nodded. “And I’m the same for him.”

James’ jealousy quieted down, not biting so fiercely as it seemed to realize there was no immediate threat. And he cursed himself for even feeling it in the first place. For feeling at all possessive, at all entitled to Regulus. If he hadn’t already finished his pizza, he might have lost his appetite.

“How was it?” Regulus asked.

“It was great,” James admitted. “Where to next?”

“Walk with me,” Regulus said, taking James’ paper plate and dispensing it into the nearest trash can as they kept walking.

James reached for Regulus’ hand this time, lacing fingers together as they walked. His eyes guiding up to a large marble building that loomed over the park. “What is that?”

“Our next destination,” Regulus grinned, pulling him along as they skipped up the steps.

James admired the tall pillars, the intricate details, reading the font across the top. New York Public Library.

“Has anyone taken you here before?” Regulus asked, leading him up to the top of the stairs.

“No,” James breathed, excitement bubbling with a smile. “You’d be the first.”

“Then let me show you around,” he smiled, squeezing James’ hand harder.

Regulus seemed to have the path memorized. Starting in an open, majestic hall at the front of the building. Towering marble and intricate details as if every inch was its own example of modern ingenuity. As they walked, Regulus spoke, pointed to sculptures and inscriptions. Talking about each of them with their own history, unique tie-ins to the building.

They went into the massive reading rooms, peppered with people sitting at the desks. Regulus kept his voice low as he pointed to the ceilings, expressing their architectural feats with near expert eloquence. A glimmer in his eye when he brought them to another large rotunda, surrounded with lavish, classical art.

“Come here,” Regulus beckoned, walking to the center of the room and taking a seat. He laid down flat against the marble floor.

James laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Lay with me,” Regulus encouraged. “Come on.”

James looked around, not seeking any immediate onlookers as he laid down next to him. Both of them gazing up towards the ceiling. There was a massive mural that stretched out across the gold leaf ceilings. Blue skies and clouds. Classical figures pinned to each side, one amongst the center with beaming white light slipping through the knuckles of his fist.

“What is it?” James asked softly.

“Prometheus stealing fire from the gods to give to mankind,” Regulus said, beaming smile across his face. “I could probably paint it in my sleep.”

James smiled too, tilting his head to look at him. Admiring his elegant profile. “How do you know so much about this place?”

Regulus’ smile went stale, tongue wearing into the corner of his mouth. Hesitating for a long moment before he spoke. “This is where I used to come every day after school,” he told him. “My parents would dump me here, so they didn’t have to think about me.”

James watched him, watched the darkness it pulled from him. The snarky taste of his words. He felt his curiosity flare bright. “What are they like?”

“Dead. Thankfully.”

His shoulders stiffened. Not having expected the news, nor the casual way in which he said it.

Regulus looked over, catching sight of James’ expression before rolling his eyes. “They weren’t like your parents, James,” he explained. “My mom was…” he tried to find the words. “A bipolar narcissist. Verbally abusive. Erratic. Unstable. Cruel.”

James felt an ache of empathy curl in his stomach. “And your dad?”

“Absent,” Regulus huffed. “Even when he was there, his stubborn authoritarianism reinforced to us that children were always wrong and our mother was always right. Her abuse was always warranted. He never stood up for us. Never saw a problem with how we were treated.” He kept his eyes on that mural above their heads, studying it closely like it served as a proper distraction while he spoke, “That’s why I got into ballet. Just a reason to be out of the house, out of the library. And sure, the teachers were sometimes just as cruel and demeaning as my mother, but at least I could do something about it. At least I could get better, prove my value.”

James’ attention pulled away, someone walking through the rotunda. A woman in noisy block heels carrying her books to her chest, her eyes cast towards them on the floor in judgment.

Regulus sighed, sitting up. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

Regulus led them back down a few long marble hallways, a few flights of stairs. James sunk back behind him, seeing the highly pulled tension in his shoulders, his crossed arms. The physical manifestation of where he’d been pulled back to. Everything smirking and superior in him was gone. He looked exposed, younger.

They slipped into another room and James felt its size immediately. It was a massive ballroom that stretched into a huge square. Empty as every small scuff of their feet reverberated off the yellowed marble and back at them. Tall, iron arches with filigreed details swept over them, culminating in a towering glass domed ceiling. Beyond the dome, the sky was a deep charcoal, holding barely any more light in its thick clouds.

Regulus’ eyes were drawn up towards the ceiling too, his arms protectively holding himself. James could have sworn there was a faint gloss in his eyes.

James dared to step closer, starting to reach for him with a gentle touch before he pulled back. Not wanting to break the spell. Afraid of how quickly his emotions could burn out, reignite into others. Not wanting to make it worse. “Regulus,” he asked, talking low into the space between them. "Can I ask something?'

Regulus blinked that gloss away, shrugging. "Might as well," he breathed.

“Why did you stop dancing?”

His face twitched to the side, wincing like he was fighting through it. “It’s weird,” he said, throat tight. “Cause when you grow up with shitty parents who don’t really know any better. You think all parents are like that.” He swallowed something down, fighting to keep talking. “But one day, they die and you don’t understand why you feel… relief. And then you aren’t even left grieving them, but instead grieving the childhood you should have had, the love you actually needed but never got. And it is like there was no one else in the room to corroborate what you went through.”

James watched his distant stare stay on the sky, dulled like it was reflecting what was overhead. “But your siblings?” he whispered.

“My brother left for college and never came back for me,” he said with a shake of his head. “Her abuse had driven him away. Forced him to abandon me. So I was the only one left.” He blinked, reliving it just beyond his gaze. “They died and it became my job to handle it. So I made all the hard decisions hastily, just trying to wash my hands clean of it. And it wasn’t perfect, but I was barely an adult. I certainly didn’t feel like one.”

James was quiet, knowing there was more. Waiting patiently for it.

Regulus bit into his lips, wearing them under his bite. “I meant to take a few months off from the company. But that became a year, then two. Then they stopped calling and I knew it was too late,” he winced again. “I’d thrown away the only thing I had going for me.”

James watched as the tears slipped silently down his cheeks. “Hey,” he reached out, taking hold of his face and swiping them away. “Listen to me. You were a child who needed love like it was the air you breathed. And they had suffocated you. You needed that time to catch your breath. You needed it.”

Regulus’ chest went unmoving as his face changed. More quiet tears slipping past his defenses.

“Hey, it’s okay,” James pulled him in, wrapping his arms around him. Pressing his face into his chest. “You’re okay. I got you.”

Regulus shook, dampening James’ shirt with his tears. “What the fuck. Why am I fucking crying?” he spoke muffled, shaking his head into James’ shirt. “I'm so stupid. It was so long ago.”

“You're not stupid,” James hushed in his ear. “You can cry, Regulus. It's okay."

Regulus tried to pull away, wipe at his reddened face. The whites of his eyes and the tip of his nose glistening pink. “It’s like the worst part-” he sniffed. “Is that it feels like all I am is a product of them. Like you could pinpoint everything that makes me who I am back to them. And it infuriates me to think that they are long gone, but still controlling every little thing I do.”

James watched him, trying to read between the lines. And suddenly, it all clicked into place. Everything Regulus was saying without words. Darkening his reality like an eclipsed sun. “You didn’t buy that house, did you?” he asked softly. “It was theirs.”

Regulus swallowed. “Yeah,” he breathed.

James looked him up and down, remembering everything all at once with a whole different lens. “You don’t need the money, do you?”

Regulus held himself firm, blinking away tears as he shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

James sighed, head pounding with the influx of new information. Everything he thought he knew suddenly turned on its head. One question ringing out so much louder than the rest that he couldn’t ignore it anymore. “Regulus. Why do you do it? Why do let people pay you for sex?”

His gaze had sunk to the floor, full of shame. “Powerful men come to me and beg me to take away their power,” he explained. “And it feels good, because I was powerless for so long. I get to control what we do, who they see. I get to make sure they don’t get close enough to see past that.”

“You’re letting me past,” James said, raising the man’s chin to meet his eyes.

They were gleaming with tears, more tender than he’d ever seen them. “Not without great difficulty.”

James’ chest twisted tight, compelling him to draw Regulus in, holding him tight in his arms. His face in the crux of his neck, trying to breathe in his scent like it would give him that relief he needed, but it just made his chest swell twice as big. He kissed into his hair, whispering against it, “I won’t make you regret it. I promise.”

Regulus stayed there for a long time, laced up in between James’ arms as his strong emotions quieted down. Looking up to James with drier eyes. Still sad, perhaps about something different now. “James,” he breathed. “Let’s go home.”

James didn’t let go of his hand, gripping it tight all the way until the limo pulled up and the driver opened the door for them. They slipped across the seat, Regulus immediately reaching for the champagne bottle and taking a swig like it was washing the tears down his rough throat. He offered it to James who took a swig as well.

He felt himself experimentally feeling around the delicate air between them as he passed the bottle back to Regulus. "Are you okay?"

Regulus smiled softly, hiding it behind the mouth of the bottle as he took another drink. He wiped his mouth, putting it back in its bucket. “Just embarrassed,” he admitted, wiping his eyes like he was still conscious of the tears that had been there. "I don't do that. I don't cry in the arms of strangers."

James smiled too, feeling more at ease as he reached over to put a gentle hand to Regulus’ bare thigh. Thumb swiping against his bare skin, trying to convey the comfort he wanted to offer. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not a stranger."

Regulus looked over at him, eyes painting down his features. A smile somewhere layered so far back behind his pensive expression that it took a trained eye to spot it. Regulus slowly raised himself from the seat, sliding his leg across James' lap to straddle him.

James’ chest widened, feeling the weight of him press down into him. His hands instinctively touching his thighs where his shorts had ridden up. “What are you doing?” he murmured, feeling a blush burn in his face

Regulus’ hands combed through James’ hair before drawing his face up. The sadness in his eyes had been replaced with something more depraved. “Whatever I want,” he murmured. It stirred equally depraved parts of James, had him dragging his hands deeper into the legs of the man’s shorts.

Regulus’ dragged James’ face forward, breath hot against his mouth as he eyed where they were nearly meeting. James’ hands tightened around his ass, trying to breathe in every exhale Regulus would offer him. Regulus tilted his head, placing a gentle kiss just left of James’ chin. A mere inch from his mouth. He placed another beside it and another, down his jawline and up into his ear where he nibbled on his lobe.

James’ hips instinctively kicked, hands gripping tight as they pulled Regulus down against him. Not stopping as he kept drawing their hips closer until there was nowhere more for him to go. The pressure immediately awakening something that had James’ cursing through his teeth.

It only served to encourage Regulus, a dastardly smirk against James’ neck as he grinded down into him. Teeth sawing into the soft spots under his jaw as he let his hips roll back, pushed them forward again. Moving slow and deliberate.

James’ was gasping, clawing at Regulus’ ass as his head fell back against the seat. Delightfully overstimulated and groaning with little care about what the driver could hear. The fabric of his suits forgiving enough to let James’ fill out, coaxing Regulus’ fluid movements against him. Feel him just as hard. His lungs burned, his neck wet with the drag of Regulus’ tongue. He was whimpering for something he couldn’t even articulate, less an action and more a feeling.

He felt the building pressure in his gut, the layer of sweat against his skin. Snowballing and careening towards a quick and needy climax before Regulus sat up, stopped his hips.

“Fuck,” James panted. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

Regulus laughed, “We can’t have you cumming like that, can we? So quick? So childish? Like some prepubescent teen in the back of his prom limo.”

The sinister taunting only served to coil James tighter. “I don’t care,” he whimpered. “I fucking need it.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Regulus smiled, pointed canines showing through. “What happened to ‘me first’?”

James couldn’t keep himself from smiling. “Fine,” he conceded. “But I’m destroying you once we get home.”

“Promise?” his brow raised.

“Promise.”

James kept it. As soon as they were past the front door, he was shoving Regulus to the ground down to the foyer’s antique rug, peeling his sweatshirt off his frame as his lips dove into his neck. Letting those lips press into those dainty chains on his collarbones, his sternum, along each of his ribs as Regulus giggled.

“So eager for me?” he chided James. He reached for James’ chin, yanking it hard towards his face. Haughty gaze slipping down his features. “I know exactly what to do with you.”

James was certain he could have just cum from his words alone, his stupid hot voice all bratty and devious. “Anything,” he breathed, feeling weak in all his muscles but one.

Regulus was slow as he pulled at the tie around James’ neck, loosening it until it was coming undone. He grabbed it, wrapping it over his knuckles before he slid it over James’ eyes. James felt a warm flush trickle down his neck as Regulus’s fingers worked to secure it in the back. And then Regulus’s hands were gone. He felt a hot breath against his ear. “How’s that?”

James swallowed, his body on high alert, “Good.”

“Good.” He felt Regulus push his chest until he was lying on his back on the rug.

The first thing he felt was Regulus’s fingers under his calf. His leg lifting into the air. And when Regulus had it propped up, he let the fingers on his other hand snag into the top of his sock and start working it down his leg, torturously slow. And when he had exposed the inside of his ankle, James felt Regulus’s soft lips kissing against it. The sweet sensation moving in a straight line to James’s groin. Once Regulus worked the sock all the way off, he went to the other leg, doing the same thing. Taking his hands off him completely again.

James lay there again, untouched. Trying to anticipate what was coming next.

Regulus’s hand was suddenly against his lap, pressing firmly down against his hardening cock.

James arched into it, a breath shuddering out of him.

He felt Regulus’s hot breath on his ear again. “You look so good, darling,” he said, voice low and rumbling. “I just want to unwrap you like a present.”

James felt the heat all over. Flooding every inch of him between his ears and his lap. “I’m all yours,” he whispered.

Regulus’ hand pressed down harder. “You’re damn right, you are.”

James’s ears perked. The heat enveloping everything, soaking through his clothes, into the floor. “Please, Regulus,” he choked out under the press of Regulus’s hand.

The hand pulled off of him again, leaving him groaning, frustrated. The next thing that he felt were Regulus’s fingers against his chest, unbuttoning each little button on his dress shirt and pushing it off his shoulders.

Then nothing again until he heard the squelch of something wet, slick. But with no sensation on him, he was left to imagine why. Followed by the feeling of Regulus’s slick finger running down his torso and landing at the clasp of his pants.

Regulus felt him through the pants again, how he was completely hard now. From growing anticipation alone. He worked his fingers up the clasp, folding it together in one hand and pulling down the zipper. The sound of each little tooth resonating in James’s ears. And Regulus worked his hands into the waistband, working both pants and underwear off his hips in one motion. Until they were off and on some plane of existence that James couldn’t focus on. At least not when Regulus’s hands were carefully peeling his thighs back to sit between them.

Regulus took his hands off and James felt nothing. The seconds passed like minutes. And as he lay there, naked and flayed, he felt how every nerve ending was shredded. Fraying apart and trying to grasp onto anything. And he felt so desperate for any kind of touch. Any kind of sound. Anything to ground him.

What seized total control of him was Regulus‘s tongue pressing up against the head of his cock. And it was so surprising that it made him moan low, those nerves setting ablaze as he realized what was coming. He felt the sharp drag of Regulus’s tongue across the skin. Just faint enough to leave him wanting more.

He felt nothing again. The throbbing in his ears only alerting him to how much time was passing. He lay there empty and hollow and begging. “Regulus, please,” he pleaded.

And suddenly, Regulus closed his mouth around James. Hot like the New York summer night. And it seared all of him. Causing him to choke around his moan.

Regulus started to work his mouth against him. Sure, firm strokes of his taut lips. His tongue swirling around. That perfect rhythm that only a dancer could set so confidently. He worked him mercilessly. But by now, James’s nerves were so open that the intensity felt doubled, tripled as it flowed through him. The tightening of his core happening so quickly that he struggled to hold it back.

And then James felt it, the rumble of Regulus’s mouth. Vibrations against his skin. The echo of Regulus’s moans reverberating through him. But these weren’t just any moans. No, they were plentiful with barely a breath in between them. Every exhale going straight to noise. And though they’d started at a single pitch, with every one that Regulus released around James, they got higher and higher. Nearly crying out and cursing while still eagerly swallowing him down. And the unmistakable sound made James recognize that Regulus was coming.

James wanted more than anything to rip that tie off his eyes but he didn’t, instead just leveraging his hips further into Regulus’s whining mouth. Kicking up quicker and quicker. Feeling Regulus’s hand closing around his cock, so slick to the touch as it started to move frictionless against him. And James realized that Regulus had just fingered himself. Regulus had just fingered himself to the taste of James. And now, he was using his lube-drenched hand to fist him.

Two more trusts and he would have been coming, but, of fucking course, Regulus had to stop touching him. Had to pull him up off the rug until they were sitting across from each other. James’ body holding its last fucking shred of self-control as Regulus pulled down the tie.

James looked at him, sitting there naked with streaks of cum painting his thighs, the rug. Like the greatest fuck you to this house he could imagine. The man’s eyes were black, pupils so blown that they swallowed up those navy blues to nothing. James roared wild with crazed thoughts, primordial brain circling around the same spiraling imagery.

Until Regulus pulled the tie down to his mouth, pressing the fabric there. James was ready to open his mouth, bite down on it like a gag, but he didn’t have the chance. Not before, Regulus was ducking down and kissing him against his mouth through the silk.

James’ head exploded, eyes falling closed as he felt the perfect fucking curve of Regulus’ mouth contour his. Felt the way his hands gripped into his jaw, his hair, tugging him closer and closer until he was collapsing back onto the rug. James poised over him, kissing against his mouth through the fabric like it was the best kiss he’d ever had. Like he didn’t even care about what was between them.

Regulus pushed against his chest, staring up at him with a shaky breath in his chest. Mouth flushed from just the pressure of the kiss. He untied the tie around James’ mouth, lacing it around his own wrists and holding them above his head. “James?” he said, like the sweetest sound in the world, arching up from his loosely bound hands.

“Yes?” he breathed, wishing he could pause the moment and paint a picture because it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Regulus smiled, nearly coy or demure if he hadn’t been so scandalous. “Make me come again,” he commanded.

James’ chest clenched tight at just the thought. “Yes,” he nodded emphatically, dipping down low to immediately slide the man’s half soft dick into his mouth. He didn’t wait to pick up speed, needing to get them back on a level playing field. He could taste the cum still there, so fucking good against his tongue as he felt his mouth salivate. Drool pooling down his shaft as he moved so that James could skirt his fingers through it, press it up against his entrance.

Regulus moaned, squirming with his hands laced together. So pretty and perfect in everything he did. Arching up off the carpet to invite James further in.

When James’ fingers hit his entrance, he felt the lube there. Wondering how Regulus had managed to finger himself while he was going down on James. Had he been carrying the lube in his pocket all night? The imagery burned James up from the inside, made his efforts double as he slid his fingers into Regulus. His were wider, stretching him more as he listened to the man’s sounds like music. Feeling him twist his hips against his touch like he was hungry for it.

James was getting too hot, too close again, from just the very idea of it all. He slipped his mouth and fingers away, sitting up to drag Regulus’ hips into his lap. His fingers gripping tight into his tight hip bones as he slid into him with a groan. He was too far gone now, too edged and overstimulated. His hips becoming a clumsily collection of ruts that he was trying to hold onto, but the sight of Regulus under him, the sound of his mouth, the memory of his lips. It was too fucking much.

He drew Regulus closer till they were both sitting, pressing their foreheads as he slipped his hands around Regulus’ cock. He jerked him tightly, murmuring into the space between them, “Please, Reg. Please. Spill for me.”

His breath hitched, nose brushing James’ as he let his bound hands tangle behind his neck. His hips maneuvering against James’ as his whimpers pitched higher. “Oh shit,” he cursed. “Fuck, James. Fuck.”

It was likely the sound of his voice that finally put James over the edge, had him eclipsing inside just as Regulus started to spill across his knuckles. He couldn’t help but watch, the shudder of the man’s shoulders, the blacks of his eyes. Every twitching muscle pulled taut beneath his skin in the most beautiful display of chaos James had ever seen.

They stayed like that in the aftershocks, sitting and staring as their chests rose and fell nearly in time. Each breath getting a little slower, each pulse of their bodies a little more united. It was inexplicable how much it changed the tone between them again. What had moments ago felt exhilarating, now felt staggeringly quiet, ambiguous. The smile of Regulus’ face falling to something colder, numb. Perhaps not so different from the night before but this time, so glaringly uneasy that it was distressing.

But James was still so caught up in him, admiring every minute detail in the softened moonlight as if it had been created solely to illuminate him. He could feel his own heart in his chest, overflowing with something he hadn’t ever expected to feel again. Trying to remember if it had hurt this much the first time, but it couldn’t have. This had to be different. In the most senseless, crushing way.

He took a deep breath, lungs weak like had no more room to stretch under the press of his heart. “Regulus,” he murmured, swallowing down the last of his defenses. “I can’t be your client anymore.”

Regulus watched him, his expression unphased, detached. “I know you can’t.”

James tried to breathe again, it wasn’t any easier. He placed a hand to the side of the man’s face, smoothing up his cheek bone. “I need your permission.”

Regulus’ eyes dove for James’ mouth, finding their way back up to his eyes, “To?”

James licked his lips, pushing past the shame. “Fall in love with you.”

The man’s eyes went glossy in a blink. They refracted the moonlight like dazzling crystal, teetering so precariously. Ready to crash into a million little pieces. “And what if I refuse to give it to you?”

The very thought sliced through him, splintering off into a million tiny abrasions. “Then I’ll leave here and let you be. I won’t call you. I won’t leave you voicemails. I won’t send you money-”

“No,” Regulus cut him off. There was a bob in his throat, something catching in his voice when he whispered, “I don’t want that.”

James shook his head. “Neither do I.”

Regulus’ mouth pressed into a thin line, gnawing at his lower lip. Panic feeding on him just beyond James’ reach. “No good can come from this, James.”

“Maybe not,” he shrugged faintly. “But if there was a chance that everything good could come of it, wouldn’t you try?”

Regulus’ eyes averted, hyperfocusing on where he was tracing shapes into James’ chest. The war inside of him worn like art across his features, equal parts beautiful and horrifying in all its brutality. “Let’s go upstairs,” he breathed, starting to rouse to his feet. “Let’s go to sleep.”

James grabbed his hand, holding it tight against his chest. Not letting him move. “Not until you tell me,” he said, feeling the fluttering under Regulus’ hand double in anticipation. “Do I have your permission?”

He looked afraid, more so than James had ever seen him. Weak eyes and a faintly chattering jaw, so dissimilar from the insolent, apathetic mask he wore. He’d been worn down to his bones, his truth. His voice shook when he whispered gravely, “Yes.”

James’ breath bloomed in his chest. He grabbed the man’s face in his hands, drawing him in to press intent kisses between his brows. Hoping they would settle all the worry there. Because all he could see was hope, a chance. And he had no intention of fumbling it this time. When he pulled away, Regulus’ eyes were still shining, but there was a fragile smile on his lips. James cherished it, knowing deep down that it wasn’t for anyone but him.

He stood to his feet, drawing Regulus up by both hands and hoisting him into his arms. Letting him drape himself over his shoulder, wrap his legs around his middle. Holding him so securely as he walked them up the stairs, with the hope of putting all their hesitations to bed.

Chapter Text

James was caught off guard the next morning. He stirred awake to the sound of his alarm, thankful he remembered to set it the previous night, turning over to dismiss it before looking back at the man curled between his arms. Regulus was still sleeping peacefully, undisturbed. James hadn’t ever seen him sleep before, feeling as if the other was always up, on the alert around him. He wondered if perhaps it was a habitual behavior around clients, not letting himself be caught unawares.

Regulus looked serene as he slept, long fingers cradling his own face with one hand as the breath drew out of him like waves drawn back into the ocean. There was a lack of tension in his shoulders, a laxness to his limbs that made it clear he wasn’t vigilant anymore. Not safeguarding himself from James’ earnest intentions. And it made his heart sing.

So much of Regulus was wrapped up in wordlessness. How he was sharp with his tongue yet it only did a minimal amount of communication for him. The rest was wrapped up in his touches, postures, expressions. Always speaking louder for him. James still wasn’t sure what to make of him, how to read between all the finely placed lines, but he knew that he couldn’t feel right anymore without Regulus at the end of his vision.

As if his ears were burning, Regulus took in a deeper breath, chest wider as he blinked open his eyes. Blurry expression settling on James.

He couldn’t help but smile, “Good morning.”

Regulus sighed, animating as he pulled himself up and crawled over James. He straddled him, pressing him down into the mattress. “No talking,” he whined, collapsing into the crux of his neck. “Just fuck me.”

James laughed, feeling it sink all the way down to his bones where it went warm. He wrapped his arms around him, pleased with the way his weight felt bearing down on him. His hands skirted up his bare back, feeling at all the dips and valleys, murmuring into his hair, “If you wanted me to fuck you, you should have woken up sooner. I have a meeting to go to.”

Regulus pulled up, meeting his eyes. “And if you don’t go?” Something glinted behind the sleepy haze.

James felt his body flex tight at the thought. Forcing it to smooth out, calm down. “If I don’t, my assistant will probably chop my dick off,” he joked. “And then my fucking days will be long over.”

“Fine,” Regulus scoffed, dramatically rolling his eyes as he rolled back onto the bed. “When will you be back?”

James propped himself onto his side, looking over at him. “I can come by in a few hours,” he suggested. Feeling something dim in him at his next thought, “But not for too long. I have to get back to Seattle.”

Regulus didn’t speak, the corners of his mouth falling. The glint of his eye staling. Something uneasy in his expression.

“What?” James asked, inching closer through the sheets.

Regulus shook his head. “Nothing.”

James’ gaze traveled down the length of him, back up to his face that was catching all of the soft morning light. The creamy soft skin and the dark lashes and the dusting of freckles and the deep navy of his eyes. He felt like something timeless. Something an artist would spend a lifetime trying to capture. “You look lovely,” he told him, not able to put it all in words.

Regulus smirked, reaching across to drag his hand down James’ chest. His eyes following the steady motion. “Try harder, darling.”

James bit down into his smile, feeling Regulus’ hand dip dangerously low. Knuckles brushing against the space below his navel. “You look…” he swallowed, trying to think with Regulus’ touch maddening him. “Like you could ruin me without trying.”

The man’s smug eyes blinked back up to his, moving closer until their noses were brushing. Until he was stealing all the breath from James’ lungs with just his proximity. Hand squeezing the space between James’ hips just to hear him choke out a gasp. Hot breath intermingling when he whispered, “Who's to say I haven’t already?”

“Shit,” James hissed, wavering closer with the temptation to kiss him before stopping himself. Stopping every carelessly obscene machination eating away at his restraint. He kissed his cheek as if it was a suitable substitute, knowing it wasn’t. “I should get going,” he told him, placing another at the crux of his jaw before pulling away, getting out of bed. He started scrounging for clothes.

Regulus watched on from his place on the bed. “Where is your meeting?”

“Near Washington Square Park, I think?” he said, vaguely remembering it from something Narcissa had mentioned the day before.

Regulus pulled himself to his feet, walking off towards his closet as he spoke over his shoulder, “Give me three minutes and I’ll go with you. I have an errand to run.”

They had to walk a few blocks, past the rows of picturesque townhouses, to find the nearest bodega. They ducked in, the owner calling out Regulus by name with a wave as they got coffee. A creamy colored cat jumped up onto the counter brushing up against Regulus’ arm.

“How we doing today, Kreacher, mm?” he hummed, absentmindedly scratching the cat’s head before handing James a cup.

James laughed, leaned up against a rack of chips. “So you are a cat person, then?”

“I’m not any kind of person.”

Kreacher meowed defiantly, protesting either Regulus’ words or the halting of pets.

“Yes, yes,” Regulus sighed, placing a kiss on the top of Kreacher’s head before tearing a sugar packet open with his teeth. He stirred it into his coffee, beckoning towards the exit. “Come on. Let’s go.”

When they were back out on the street, Regulus was pulling his huge sunglasses over his eyes. He was wearing those slummy street clothes again. Grimey black converse and shorts. A designer bag hooked across his chest.

“My favorite stepson has returned,” James noted, throwing an arm around his shoulder and drawing him close.

Regulus’ smirk twisted up behind his coffee cup, “You said I could call you daddy, right?”

James wasn’t sure what his face did, not having any control over it as it contorted instinctively.

Regulus’ gaze flicked over, shoulders falling. “No, stop that,” he protested. “It was a joke. Your dad kink is still gross.”

“Then, stop indulging it,” James shrugged off the burning of his ears. “Come on,” he grabbed onto Regulus’ hand and twisted their fingers together. “Make it look like we are in the same tax bracket.”

Regulus laughed at his expense, but didn’t pull away. Letting their fingers intertwine as they headed down into the subway. He swiped his card for James, getting them on the six to head south. The train was packed with people, leaving them standing by a door. Regulus’ hand reached up to hold on, a slice of skin at his hip exposed. Standing so close that as the train wove down the track, their hips kept brushing. Clouding James’ head with fantasy. He reached up, clutching onto the bare hip with his hand as if to steady himself, catching Regulus’ dark eyes in the process.

Regulus leaned close to his ear, speaking just above a whisper over the clatter of the train. “You could have skipped your meeting,” he said. “Could have had me on round three by now.”

James’ teeth gritted together in frustration. “Will you ever stop torturing me?”

Regulus pulled back, dazzling smirk against his pretty mouth, “How can I? When you make it so easy.”

James couldn’t help but be drawn to it, wavering again on his feet toward him. Having to hold himself more firm, squeeze his hip a little tighter. “Regulus. I want to kiss you.”

His smirk fell, eyes widening. “Now?”

“All the time. And I’m having a very hard time being patient for it.”

“Who says you’re getting it,” he sneered.

The very thought sunk low into his stomach, filling him with hopeless despair that he had to push through. “You agreed I’m not a client anymore. And you said you don’t kiss clients. You only kiss people you want to,” he pointed out. “Does that mean you don’t want to kiss me?”

Regulus held his stare, hiding something there just out of plain view. “Not yet.”

James took his hand away, letting it come up Regulus’ chin. Thumb nudging his lips apart to tease at one of his sharp canines. “You sure?”

Regulus looked momentarily hesitant before his gaze went to the crowd around them, grabbing James’ hand and tossing it away from his mouth. “I’m not losing sleep over it.”

James felt an itch of irritation at how unbothered he seemed. “And I wonder why that is? Perhaps because you have someone else to kiss when you need it.”

“Don’t start fights you can’t win, James,” he looked up as the train pulled to a stop. “This is us. Come on.”

James felt forced to drop it, trying to shake the jealous bite of Barty’s name and face from his mind as they ascended the stairs to street level. He looked up at the skyscraper towering just across the street. “That must be it,” he sighed, not thrilled about what he was about to walk into.

Regulus was staring at the building too. Something tight in his shoulders, crinkled into the space between his brows.

James nudged his shoulder, “What is it?”

Regulus wasn’t quick to speak. “There are probably a lot of offices in there, right?”

“Probably,” James looked back up to the many floors, confused. “Why do you say that?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head. He pointed behind him, “I’m going this way.”

“What are these errands you are running?”

Regulus slid his sunglasses back over his eyes, starting to walk away, “None of your business.”

“Reg,” James grabbed his hand, tugging him back with an intent look. “I’m gonna need a better goodbye than that.”

The man just eyed him carefully, suppressing a smile before leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Text me when you’re out, darling,” he pulled away, skipping his way back down the street without turning back.

When James arrived at the conference room, a nervous-looking intern was already passing out three ring binders to him and Marlene. Their organization's logo was printed on the front, right under the Malfoy’s logo.

Marlene gave him a purposeful look as she opened up the binder absentmindedly. “How was your evening?” she asked carefully.

“Lovely,” he said without looking at her as the intern tried to take his jacket. “It’s fine. I can keep it,” he smiled comfortingly.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” they asked, fidgeting with the badge around their neck. “Eat? Anything?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, lifting his coffee cup. “I’m good for now. Thank you.”

They smiled too, only briefly before they ducked out of the room, leaving Marlene and James alone. Something in her posture was too loose, cocky. Like she knew too much.

“So,” she kept her voice low. “Should I start making out wedding invitations?”

“Good grief, McKinnon,” James rolled his eyes. “Let it go.”

“What? It was a little more than a week ago that you were making out with some dude in a bar.”

James sighed, hand dragging across his face. “Whatever Pete told you, it was out of context,” he said firmly. “Plus, don’t you two have your own personal lives? Why are we making mine the center of conversation?”

“Pete’s married and I’m hopeless. You’re the only source of entertainment we get.”

“I’m not a walking reality show. So if you would just let your boss get his-”

“Good morning, Lucius,” she called with a smile.

James looked up watching as Lucius came into the room, smoothing his white blonde hair down his neck like he was bothered. “Morning,” he peeped, biting into his cheek. “Will Mrs. Malfoy be joining us?”

“Narcissa is busy with something else,” he murmured, distracted. “I’m afraid it will just be me.”

Marlene gave James a skeptical look, pulling the binder forward into her lap. “It looks like your team has been hard at work preparing the event,” she noted with a tight smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a detailed plan.”

“Well, we aren’t amateurs,” Lucius snided. “In fact if you turn to page fourteen, our team has outlined a few new options for a venue space.”

James and Marlene flipped through the plastic wrapped pages, passing examples of table decor and sample catering menus.

“You see, while the venues we saw yesterday were… satisfactory. We are looking for someplace outstanding. A place that conveys that this organization is for a higher degree of excellence. A professionalism that is only matched by its vision. And is only fitting of a venue that praises innovation while preserving tradition.”

James’ eyes scanned down the list. Seeing Lincoln Center, the Plaza Hotel, Museum of Natural History. He felt his breath go tight at the sticker shock, having to remind himself that he wasn’t paying for it.

“These look lovely,” Marlene piped up, sitting back in her chair. “I personally am fine with any of them.”

James could feel Lucius’ stare burning a hole through him. Trying to see the common threads that he had spoken of, the subtle undertones that their wealthy attendees would be watching with a trained eye. “The organization is…” he hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Centered around inclusivity, equity. That is what we work so hard to provide to the youths we work with. And while this event seems like it is targeted to a specific audience, perhaps the venue should be one that speaks to that aspect of our mission. A place that welcomes all. That doesn’t charge entry.”

Lucius’ narrowed his cold eyes, “And what exactly do you have in mind then?”

“How about…” James shrugged his shoulders. “The New York Public Library.”

Lucius’ stare went duller in thought, expression slipping for a moment before he picked it back up with a smug smile. “Yes, well,” he tutted his tongue to his teeth. “I think I see your point, Mr. Potter. And I agree.”

James nearly did a double take, “You do?”

“Yes,” he pressed a button at his side of the table, silently summoning the nervous intern in a flash. “Please get in touch with the New York Public Library. We are going to be requesting their event space for three weeks from this Saturday.”

“Three weeks?” Marlene’s eyes widened. “I thought we had planned on an additional month.”

“Yes, in the old plan,” he nodded, tapping the binder in front of him. “But things have been moved up.”

“Any particular reason?” James asked.

“None that concern you.”

“I think it all concerns us,” Marlene argued. “It is our organization.”

“And it is my name, my money, my connections,” Lucius smirked. “So we will be doing it next month.”

James shot Marlene a look down the table, communicating that she should stand down. “That works fine for us,” he nodded. “Next month at the library then.”

Lucius’ smile grew even more proud, looking back down to the binder. “Now, if you’ll turn to page twenty six, I can show you our options for raffle prizes.”

By the time James was out of the meeting with Lucius, it was pouring rain out of nowhere. A torrential downpour that was flooding the streets with noise as it rapped against every hard surface. The sidewalks, the asphalt, the cars, the fountains. He and Marlene hid under the awning of the skyscraper.

“I’ll meet you at the airport,” he told his assistant, raising his voice over the rolling thunder. “If you could bring my luggage with you-”

She opened her mouth, drawing in a breath.

“McKinnon, please,” he stopped her. “No questions.”

She released her lips with a nod. “You got it, boss,” she saluted, eyes tracking the cab pulling up to the curb. “You need a ride somewhere?”

“I can catch my own,” he nodded. “I’ll see you there.”

She gave him a wave before running out to quickly slip into the backseat.

James had to wait on the edge of the street to hail the next one he spotted, getting soaked nearly to the skin in the process. Trying to shake the water out of his hair and his glasses as he rode all the way there, but it was still beating down, perhaps harder now, when he arrived. He paid the driver, rushing out of the car and skipping up the steps to Regulus’ house. But before he could ring the doorbell, something caught his eye.

There were a few letters sticking half way out of the mailslot. James curiously grabbed for them, flicking through them quickly as he rang the doorbell. There was the typical junk, coupons and credit card offers, but the last piece of mail stuck out different than the rest. A soft lavender envelope, a pretty bronze seal.

Dorcas Meadowes, Attorney at Law

James’ brow crinkled, looking to the recipient but seeing Regulus’ name smudged from the rain on James’ fingers. The ink of his last name smeared, illegible. The door opened before him, raising his eyes up. Regulus was smiling at him, but then his eyes fell, his smile going with it.

“What are you doing?”

James hastily piled the mail together in his hand. “You had mail,” he told him, shoving it forward. “I was just grabbing it for you.”

Regulus took it hesitantly, clutching it against his chest. “Come in,” he said. “It’s nasty out there.”

“Tell me about it,” James said, hustling inside and trying to shrug off his soaked jacket. He found a mirror in the foyer, trying to drag his fingers through his dark wet hair. “It sure as hell doesn’t rain like this in Seattle.”

“You’re soaked,” Regulus laughed, putting the mail aside and grabbing the lenses right off James’ face as he pulled his shirt up and off his frame to start cleaning them.

James’ vision was blurred without his glasses, looking down to admire the length of Regulus' bare torso. His feet were bare, his shorts gone. Long, lean legs going on forever. It took James an embarrassingly long time to realize he was naked.

“There,” Regulus said, looking up at the lenses through the light before slipping them back onto James’ face. “How’s that?”

“It’s…” James smiled, seeing him in perfect clarity now. Taking a step forward as he reached for him, pulling him closer. “Perfect.” He let a hand smooth down the man’s soft hips. “Where did your clothes go?” he asked, clenching down on the smooth skin of his ass until he could feel it swell between his fingers. His mind running wild, awakening an ever present pulse that beat solely for Regulus.

“Hm,” he bit down on his grin, arching up onto his tiptoes as he laced his hands around James’ neck. “Well, I was just about to take a bath. And it looks like you need one too.”

“I definitely do,” James nodded, gaze trailing helplessly down him again as if to map out every inch.

Regulus grabbed his hand, dragging him up the staircase. His muscles so tautly pulled as he ascended the stairs. The kind that he could have only gotten from years of bending himself in every direction. James felt very eager to test out what flexibility he had left.

James could feel the wave of humidity hit him as soon as they reached the bathroom. The air was visibly thick with steam, fogging the mirrors and windows. James’s eyes traveled up the clawfoot tub, starting at its golden feet and ending where Regulus was eagerly slipping into the suds. His skin starting to glisten in the soap, the tips of his curls grazing the water until they were dripping.

James came to the edge of the tub, letting his hands run up Regulus’s wet shoulders.

Regulus looked up at him, nearly upside down. His smile growing when their eyes met. “How long do you have?”

“About an hour,” James smiled, coming around and sitting cross-legged on the tile, at the edge of the tub.

Regulus huffed, sinking his arm under the water, brushing the suds away and watching their shimmery remnants swirl at the surface. “And then?”

“And then, I have to go.”

Regulus looked up, eyes sparkling. “You sure you want to go?”

James folded his hands against the edge of the tub, resting his head on top of them. “I don’t want to go,” he confessed. “I want to stay here with you forever.”

Regulus’s teeth showed through, all white and pretty. The makings of a laugh stitched between them before he seemed to get distracted, reaching out to hold James’s face between his wet hands. “And your work? Your friends?”

James smelled the soap on his skin, feeling lightheaded from the steam. “How can I even think about them when you’re this close.”

Regulus grazed his thumbs across his cheeks, working up into his sopping hair. “You’re so wet,” he murmured. “Come here.”

James let his face be dragged closer, his eyes closing as he felt Regulus place a kiss on his cheek. Drawing away slowly and kissing the other one. Angling his face down to land one between his brows. On his bridge of his nose, before drawing back to stare down at his mouth. Lingering there so long that James felt that lightheadedness spin his head like a plate. Mesmerized by the way that every kiss, no matter where it was placed, could still make him feel like it was the first.

Unconsciously, James leaned in, entranced by the smell of him, the feeling of him. Chasing his mouth without thought. But when he did, he carelessly leaned too far, hands against the porcelain slipping until he was tumbling forward into the tub. The water cascading outwards, cresting over the edge and onto the floor as James’s clothes soaked deeper with water.

“James!” Regulus laughed loudly, his hands pushing against James’s chest.

But James wasn’t deterred, his hands going up to Regulus’s face to draw him closer, to breathe his air. Wanting to take Regulus’s open, giggling mouth as invitation enough to lick behind his smile.

Regulus’s arms circled around his waist, feeling the way his shirt clouded around his body under the water. He drew him into his lap, sitting back in the tub to look up at him.

James’s knees slotted on either side of him as he met his eyes. Fingers running through his wet hair to push it away from his face. All of him glistening and bare and no longer smiling, just watching him. Fluently speaking in their silent little languages that didn’t need words. Eyes sparkling and lips parting and James just couldn’t take it.

James’s fingers trailed down him, following the line of his body and settling in his lap. Pressing firmly against him. Watching the way his mouth fell more open, eyebrows drawing together, further encouraging James to wrap his fingers around him. To feel the thrill of Regulus’s blood rushing, filling him out as he started to work against him.

Regulus shuddered, sinking a little deeper into the water in an effort to kick his hips further up into James’s grip. Fisting a hand into James’s wet shirt to draw him down again. To kiss his neck hungrily as the soft passion distorted quickly into eager desperation.

James let Regulus bite and hiss into his skin, his hands nearly clawing at him. Only emboldening him to work him more intently, slowing the pace of his hand down in a way that he knew Regulus would nearly loathe.

And sure enough, after a while, Regulus was groaning. “Darling,” he choked, clutching at his neck. “That just won’t do.”

James laughed, low and dark and close to his face. “What then?” he asked, hand still closed around him. “What do you want?”

Regulus’s hand slid up his jaw, clutching around his chin. “This,” he licked his lips. “I want this.”

James smiled. “Like this?” he said, letting his mouth fall open as Regulus’s fingers slipped inside. Dragging them against his tongue and curling around them.

Regulus smiled at the sight.

And James knew what he wanted, but couldn’t help the rarity toying with him. “You want me to drown myself for it?” he asked, voice going soft before he plunged Regulus’s fingers deeper into his mouth, tightened his other hand around his cock. “Because I just might.”

Regulus hissed again, getting increasingly frustrated. He pulled his fingers away, grabbing onto the lip of the tub. He hoisted himself up, leaning up against the tile wall.

James sat between his knees, looking up at him. All naked and soaking wet. Soapy water cascading down every plane of skin. But James’s eyes kept landing in the same place. His flushed cock against his stomach.

He came closer, hands working up his muscled calves, his thighs. His pretty slim legs. Those hands moved into his lap, one resting firmly at his hip while the other closed up around his cock. Biting down on his smile and looking up at him as he started working it again.

Regulus’s brows drew together as he held James’s gaze, leaning back into that wall and letting one hand comb into James’s hair. “Come here,” he murmured, pulling his head close. “Open your mouth.”

A shiver ran down James’ spine despite the heat of the water, complying as he watched Regulus’ spit drip heavy down into his mouth. Feeling it cool against his tongue and savoring it like a gift. He could feel the trickle of water mix with the seeping precum, dripping down his fist. He brought his face closer, lapping at the trail it left on his wrist, tongue working closer and closer. All while Regulus’s gaze watched with a commanding presence.

James’s tongue traced at the tip of his cock, swirling against the head. Feeling Regulus’ spit mix with his own and coat him. The hand in his hair guiding his mouth closer as his lips closed around him. He tongued generously at the slit, working his mouth a little deeper.

Regulus’s shoulders fell, his body falling more open as his mouth fell open too. The hand in his hair going a little more insistent. “That’s it,” he breathed.

James just smiled, working deeper. Torturously slow and relaxed despite his zealous tongue curling around him. Baited on by the firmness of Regulus’ commands.

His hand went tighter around the back of James’s head. His eyes closed, his arm tightening as he dragged him with a pull of taut muscle.

James’s hand went to the one Regulus had gripping around the edge of the tub, pulling his wrist up and resettling it in his hair. Watching the man’s eyes look down, glassy and dark as he tangled his fingers at his locks. James’s hands slid up the underside of his thighs, gripping around on the curve of his ass as he felt the pull of Regulus’s hands sink his mouth down around him. One time at first. And then again. And again. Setting a firmer pace.

And James didn’t fight it. In fact, he followed it, letting his jaw go a little more slack as he succumbed to the pace he was keenly setting. Clenching his splayed fingers into his firm ass and savoring the fragrant taste of him.

Regulus’s thighs quivered around James’s head, knees widening even more to keep bringing his mouth down around him.

James could feel his lips dripping with saliva down his chin, all of it coating Regulus and easing the slide of his mouth until it was like one fluid motion that Regulus kept executing. So ruthlessly that it made James moan around him.

Regulus groaned. Screwing his eyes shut, leaning up against the tile. His chest shuddering with each heavy exhale. The sheen on his skin and the fog in the air more sweat than bathwater now.

And god, it was good. Because just watching him was better than any fever dream James could think of. And he had the feeling deep inside that no one could ever compare to him, compare to them when they were like this.

Regulus’s hands started to shake in James’s hair, matching the trembling of his legs. “I’m going to cum down your throat,” he told him. “And you’re going to thank me for it.”

And James could feel the way he was so close. Only encouraging him more. To go deeper, grip him tighter. Looking up and seeing his eyes back on him, bleary and transfixed on James’s mouth. And James moaned again, obscene and wanton.

Regulus’s fingers went slack when he cried out, slipping down to James’s neck and holding him against his cock as he leaned into him, spilling into his mouth. Hands falling away as he leaned back against the tile, shoulders slumping.

James sucked him clean, pulling off of him and smiling as he swallowed the warm seed. His hands pulling at Regulus’s knees and hips until he was slipping back down into the tub where the water had already gone too cool.

James crowded him against the tub’s edge. “Thank you,” he murmured, kissing at his neck. “Thank you so fucking much.”

“You’re very welcome,” Regulus giggled, using the last of his strength to turn onto his stomach. To grind up into James’ lap.

“Fuck,” he breathed, watching the sudsy expanse of Regulus’ back glisten back at him. Feeling every contour of his ass rub firmly against where he was hard and ignored in his wet pants. James rushed to start ripping off his soaked clothes, tossing them outside the tub and hearing them plop against the tile. He undid his pants, heavy cock spilling out against Regulus’ bare skin. The slip of the soap too good to deny.

“You were so good for me, darling,” Regulus purred. “I think you earned a treat.”

James’ hands went to his hips, mesmerized by the rock of them. Nearly not knowing what to do with himself. Nearly. He dragged Regulus’ hips up to the edge of the tub, watching the water drip down his perfect ass and down his thighs. He reached for the drain, pulling it free as the water started to recede like the sand in an hourglass. It emboldened James to work quickly, bending Regulus off the edge of the tub as his fingers swiped through the soapy residue and went for Regulus’ entrance.

He felt the gasp in the man’s throat reverberate off the tile when he entered him, wasting no time in opening him up. Eager to have him, to feel their skin meet. He could feel the way it raked Regulus’ overstimulated post-climax body through the coals, making him squirm with every new addition until he was ready for James.

He slid into his easily, hips going flush against him as he looked to his lovely shoulder blades, his dark hair. He ran his fingers up into it, tugging slightly as he thrust into him and hearing the lewd sound it drew from him. Watching Regulus’ knuckles go white from where they clutched the tub’s edge.

James knew his climax was an afterthought, a courtesy he was grateful for. And by then, he’d gotten so worked up that he didn’t care about making it graceful and beautiful anymore. So instead he made it quick, filthy as he leaned all his weight into Regulus’ back and rutted up into him. Feeling himself go so deep as he dragged his face down his skin. It wasn’t long before he was biting into Regulus’ shoulder to keep from crying out pathetically when he came.

Regulus was panting, sliding away from James just to grab him and hold him close. He buried into his chest, his neck, breathing in his scent as the last of the water went down the drain, leaving nothing but the froth of bubbles on their skin.

James was dizzy, clutching onto Regulus’ sides as he struggled to come down. “Come on,” he breathed. “I don’t have a lot of time.”

Regulus pulled back to look at him, eyes sinking down his face. “You’re not allowed to go,” he commanded, like perhaps it would hold the same authority he had when they fucked.

James’ smile was goofy and soft. “I have to,” he murmured, kissing into his cheek. “But not forever, okay? Just for a little while.”

Regulus seemed at peace enough with the suggestion, getting up from the tub and going to his closet to get dressed.

James caught his breath fully, following like the lovesick puppy he was. Regulus was already in a pair of sweatpants, beckoning to the corner of the closet as he went to leave. “I have some clothes for you now.”

James sent him a confused look as he watched him go, turning his attention to the corner Regulus had motioned to. He found a span of clothes that looked distinctly separated from the rest. A more neutral palette and longer lines. He parsed through the hangers, noting the accuracy of the items. Like things he’d already have in his closet. “Was this your errand today?” he called out towards the bedroom.

“One of them.”

James felt something warm curl in the depths of his chest, taking off some more casual clothes from the hangers and pulling them on. They fit immaculately, clinging to his muscles in a way that had him standing a little straighter as he admired himself in the mirror. “These are perfect,” he called.

“Good. They’re yours.”

James slipped out to the bedroom, ready to show off his new clothes. But as soon as he saw Regulus, he felt every bit of pep drain from him instantly. Regulus was sitting on the floor, a piece of luggage splayed out in front of him. He was sorting through a few small piles of clothing, bags of toiletries. He was packing.

James came closer, standing over him. “What are you…” his words trailed off, daring to think of the worst thing he could.

Regulus looked up at him, shaking dark curls from his face. “I’m flying out tomorrow,” he said simply as he returned his attention to his luggage.

“Where?” James glared, a bite already in his tone.

Regulus must have heard it, something minute in his expression going numb. “Somewhere for work,” he shrugged.

James felt himself crumbling where he stood, confirming the very worst of his suspicions. “You can’t.”

Regulus looked up at him, a pompous softness between his brows. As if he was waiting for James to speak out of turn.

“I mean, you can. But-” James stood uneasy, breathing a bit quicker as his mind tumbled through several different arguments. None of them ending well. “I don’t…” he struggled, hand working through his hair. “Say something.”

“Why would I? I’m enjoying this.”

James sighed, pacing the floor restlessly. “You don’t need the money.”

“It isn’t about the money,” he breathed, like he was reminding him of their past conversation, as he turned his focus back on his suitcase.

But James didn’t need to be reminded. He had inscribed every word of it somewhere deep in his chest. “You want to feel powerful.”

“You want to take that power away from me. Because it makes you feel less.”

James sat on the edge of the bed, watching him folding up his clothes. Wondering briefly if it was true, if his own possessiveness was blinding him. If he was being self-centered, insecure. And perhaps he was, but in the moment, it felt so much more bigger than that. “You know you talk about your clients like they are these filthy men who just want to use your body. Who don’t care about you farther than when you can get on a plane to go fuck them.”

“I’m not trying to hold them to a higher moral obligation,” he pointed out.

“I know you’re not,” James backtracked again. “And there is nothing wrong with them wanting those things. There is nothing wrong with you providing that to them.”

Regulus turned to look at him, his blank, aloof stare holding. “But?”

James went blank. Every excuse sounding stupider and stupider in his head. Till he couldn’t even remember why he spoke up in the first place. All he knew is that the idea of Regulus leaving again to slot between someone else’s arms made him feel nauseous. Made him feel worthless. As if it invalidated every step they’d taken towards something more. And somewhere he knew that wasn’t true, but it was so overwhelmingly hard to listen to logic when it felt like Regulus was actively pulling them apart.

Regulus sighed, standing to his feet. “James,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think we need new rules.”

James looked up at him, swallowing down the spiraling thoughts. He nodded weakly, “Okay.”

“Number one,” he started. “I’m still going to do my job. You don’t have any say on the matter.”

A million counterarguments piled heavy on his tongue, each more incoherent and jealousy fueled than the last. James knew there was no real weight to them beyond their volume, choosing instead to put them on mute.

Regulus kept going, “No more self-righteous bullshit. No more savior complex. No more treating me like a damsel in the gutter.”

James huffed, looking around at the opulent room. “I would hardly call this the gutter.”

Regulus didn’t seem amused.

“Okay,” James nodded. “Got it.”

“Number two. All former rules still apply. I will not be meeting friends nor family. I will not get shown on your social media.”

James darkened, briefly wondering if there was any actual difference in their dynamic now. If they were just settling back into the same proposal they had started with. “Yeah, sure,” he shook his head.

“And finally, number three. Whatever this is,” he motioned between them. “It isn’t going to get in the way of my life. And that’s not just my work, but my friends, my family, everything.”

James had the regressive thought that he wasn’t sure it was possible. Afterall, he had already met Pandora, already knew of Barty. Already knew more about Regulus’ late or estranged family than he ever thought he would. He felt inherently tied up in the ongoings of Regulus’ life in such a way that he wasn’t sure he could be untangled. As if he had seen too much to passively not get involved. But he knew it wasn’t productive to think like that, afterall, Regulus would probably vehemently disagree.

“Alright,” he nodded. “I’ll stay out of it.” He watched as Regulus stood unevenly before him, anger bubbling just below the surface. Stomach still churning nauseously. “But if you get to make rules, I should have the same privilege.”

Regulus’ lips thinned, biting into them. Staring back at him like he was considering if he would allow it. He gave him a nod to continue.

“Number one,” James fiddled with the knee of his jeans. “I need to talk to you. Once a day. Even if it’s just a text. Though I would prefer a call.” He looked up to Regulus’ blank stare. “Because, sure, you should keep your work, but I can’t go a week without hearing from you and not know what’s going on.”

“Alright,” he breathed, relaxing his stance and going to his drawers like it was settled.

“And number two.”

Regulus froze, looking back towards the bed. “Oh, there’s more.”

“Number two. I want to see you,” James pleaded. “Even if it is just every other weekend. So in two weeks, you come to Seattle and spend the weekend with me. In a month, I’ll be back here.”

Regulus stared back for a long time. Something nervous tugging at his expression. He nodded.

James stood up, coming forward until they were face to face. Watching as Regulus nearly took a step back, not letting him. Snaking his hands up the man’s sides to hold him there. “Number three,” he said, voice low between them. “No secrets.”

Regulus raised a brow.

James fixated on a mole on Regulus’ chest. Brushing his fingers against it. “You don’t have to tell me every lewd detail of your work. But if I ask, I’d like transparency.”

“You’re not my boyfriend,” Regulus shook his head. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

There was a bruising honesty in his words that left James feeling pummeled. Sighing frustrated, “Then what am I, Reg? If I’m not your client, not your boyfriend. If I’m falling in love with you-”

“That is your problem, not mine,” he backed away a step.

James felt the way he so easily left his arms, slipping right through his fingers at what he thought was a reasonable suggestion. “Regulus, please,” he pleaded. “You can trust me.”

His eyes were cast in a navy gloss, shining in the light. He looked afraid, at odds with himself. Hesitating somewhere deep, the most instinctual parts of his psyche where trust wasn’t a commodity in boundless reserves. Where trust had been irrevocably broken, stolen, until there was very little left.

James swore to himself that he would never betray it, that he’d never give Regulus a reason to question his loyalty. Not when it took this much out of him just to hand over the most meager amount of himself.

Regulus’ jaw clenched tight. “Fine,” he breathed. “No secrets.”

James sighed with relief. He took that step closer again, pleased when Regulus didn’t back away from him. He reached up, holding the man’s face so softly between his hands. “I’m going to miss you,” he whispered. “So fucking much, Regulus. I swear I’ll think about you all the goddamn time.”

Regulus swallowed, expression weakening as he rushed forward to embrace him. His face curled up in the crux of his neck, his breath erratic against his skin. Voice barely a croak in his throat, “I’ll miss you too.”

And James stood there, holding him, kissing into his hair and murmuring his praises for as long as time would allow.

Chapter Text

Pete was waiting with a smile when Marlene and James rolled their luggage out of the arrivals door. “Welcome home,” he said warmly, holding the car door open for the both of them to slide in.

“Pete, I could kiss the ground right now,” Marlene said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Ow,” he winced through his smile as she dragged him closer to her, “That bad, huh?”

“Not that bad,” James corrected. “Though it is great to see you, Pete.”

“Same to you, Jim.”

They piled in together as Pete started to navigate them towards Marlene’s Fremont apartment.

“Easy for James to say it wasn’t bad,” Marlene murmured as she slid down into the backseat.

James caught the quirk of Pete’s brow in the rearview, taking a quick breath, “Hey, McKinnon? How about we don’t?”

“Don’t what?” Pete asked.

“Our boss seemed to quite contently coupled up with someone practically the whole trip.”

“You don’t say?” the driver brightened.

“He didn’t even stay a single night at the hotel.”

“Well, then. Congratulations, Jim! Can’t wait to meet them!”

“No, there will be no-” he groaned. “Both of you can please stop literally anytime now.”

“What’s the big deal?” Marlene snorted.

“It’s just…” James bit into his thumb, watching the clearing of pine trees open up and the buildings of downtown perch over the horizon. “We’re not together. Not officially. And he’s… private. So if we could just be respectful and-”

“Is he married?” Marlene asked, scooting closer.

“What? No. He’s not married, he’s just-”

“A conservative, isn’t he?” Pete snapped. “You have to watch out for them, Jim.”

“There is nothing conservative about him,” James assured. “He’s just not interested in anything serious right now and that’s perfectly okay with me.” The second part seemed to come out just fine, but James could taste the lie in it. He knew that Regulus was the only person since Lily who he’d ever seen the potential for something serious with and it was driving him, an upstanding gentleman, to act completely insane.

Marlene gave him a stony look, as if she too could hear the lie. But was polite enough to restrain herself from calling him out. Her eyes slowly and purposefully drew away from James. “How are you doing then, Pete? Your daughter is starting school this year, right?”

James faded back into their conversation, just glad to have the attention off of him. Staring out the window at the glittering city coming into the foreground. Wondering ever so anxiously just how long he could keep this up since everyone close to him seemed to see Regulus all over him. Nearly as if Regulus’ brightness was shining straight through him.

He slid his phone out from his pocket, opening up his messages to start typing.

Doesn’t quite feel like home without you here, he sent.

It was only a few moments before the ellipse was flickering back at him.

Two weeks, darling. You can survive two weeks.

James felt the smile on his face go wide, the glow of the phone illuminating his face before it dimmed. Before he remembered that it wasn’t just two weeks without Regulus. It was two weeks that Regulus would be spending with other strange men.

Tell me something that’s just for me.

James hesitated sending it. Feeling the patheticness the words held. The desire to be different, to be elevated from the rest. Hell, maybe Regulus was right. Maybe he was self-righteous. He sent it anyway.

Thank you.

James smirked, typing again.

For what?

Leaving your scent here.

James nearly collapsed into the window, stomach doing back handsprings as he smiled the whole way home.

Call me when you have a chance.

The text was enough to startle James in the middle of a meeting before he realized it was Sirius, not Regulus. Calming himself down as he texted back.

Something wrong?

No, nothing. Just wanted to talk.

It wasn’t like Sirius to not overshare the first thing on his mind. But regardless, James waited until the meeting had wrapped, ducking back into his office to dial up his friend.

“How was New York?” Sirius asked as soon as he answered.

James had grabbed a sparkling water from the kitchen, snapping it open as he sat on the edge of his desk. “It was fine,” he said, hoping to keep anything suspicious out of his voice.

“And how are my deplorable cousins?”

“They nearly cost me an assistant. But they seem harmless enough in their dreadfulness. As long as their checks keep clearing.”

“You know, I’m surprised you’ve let them drive the bus, so to speak, for this long.”

“They aren’t driving the bus. I’m driving the bus. I’m the only bus driver here,” he asserted. “I’m letting them ride the bus, pay for gas.”

“Sure, James,” Sirius laughed. “If you believe that.”

James didn’t appreciate the judgment in his tone, rolling his eyes. “Tell me why you are really calling.”

“What do you mean? Just wanted to check in on my best friend.”

“And?”

“And…” Sirius hesitated. “I wanted to let you know that there is a bit of a cookout this weekend.”

“At your place?” he asked, reaching another sip.

“Not exactly,” Sirius’ voice went small. “It’s on a boat.”

James choked, bubbles going up into his nose and making it tickle. He sputtered, trying to clear his airways as his eyes watered. “Don’t tell me,” he choked. “Mary’s boat?”

“Yeah,” his friend conceded weakly.

James tore his glasses from his face, rubbing the tears from his eyes, “And how exactly am I procuring a secondhand invite to this event?”

“Well, a certain husband of mine may have advocated for you.”

“Oh, god,” he put his head to his hand. “You asked if I could fifth wheel? That’s so pathetic.”

“Well, we thought that you could bring your date.”

“Right, so that I can introduce him to my ex wife. That totally kills any awkwardness.”

“Geez,” Sirius hissed. “Come on now. We just wanted you to feel included.”

James sat back at his desk, processing. Keeping his lips buttoned for as long as he could as if it would hold back anything unwilling from spilling out. But he had to offer Sirius something. “I can’t bring my date,” he finally said.

“Did you two split already? That was short lived.”

“No, no,” his teeth wore into his lips. “We’re long distance. He lives on the East Coast.”

Sirius was quiet for a small moment. “Remind me how you met again?”

“It’s not an interesting story,” James dodged. “Look, I’ll come to the cookout. Alone. Alright? Because Lily and I are fine and Mary and I are fine and it is going to be fine. Not at all awkward. Just… fun. Right?”

“Right,” Sirius agreed. “Oh and Lily asked if you can bring that beer she likes. The bird one. She said you’d know what she meant.”

James felt the smile grow across his face, thinking back to when Lily spent her twentieth birthday with James’ family and got drunk off Kingfishers with his mom despite the fact that Euphemia Potter denied until her dying day ever having a sip of alcohol in her life. James had understood why it happened. Lily’s most indescribable quality: how everything around her seemed to glow so angelic and pure that people would mistake anything she did for goodness. She could bend the wills of those around her, as if her radiant laugh had the power to outshine any amount of wickedness.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, remembering fondly. “I know.”

When are you free to talk?

James texted in between the last few bites his dinner as a sedative nature documentary served as nonabrasive background chatter in his empty-feeling house.

Call in fifteen.

James read his response, at odds because, while it had only been a couple of days, he hadn’t been hearing from Regulus quite as consistently as he had hoped. A few ambiguous texts here and there where a few of hours might pass without a reply. And James had tried to remind himself that Regulus was working, that he couldn’t be at his beck and call. But it kept contorting into something like ‘he doesn’t care’ or ‘he’s having fun without you’.

The phone rang four times before he finally picked up.

“Hey,” he said, slightly out of breath.

James got up, pacing his living room floor with a tightness between his shoulders that wouldn’t settle. “Hey,” he eased. “Where are you?”

“I ran down to the lobby.”

He imagined it. Some fancy hotel. A private suite. Close enough quarters that even this call needed an escape, an excuse. It made his stomach curl with nausea. “No,” he shook his head. “I mean where in the world.”

“Oh, Toronto,” he replied. “I got here yesterday.”

“And who is this patron of the week then?” he probed, at war with his own curiosity.

Regulus let out a soft laugh, “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

James blinked, “What do you mean?”

“Stupid famous. I’ll leave it at that. Hence why we had to meet in a whole other country.”

It did nothing to settle James. He took a seat on the couch, staring out past the muted television and into the skyline. “What’s that like?” he murmured.

“What?”

“To be… I don’t know, taking care of these famous people?”

Regulus was smiling now. “You can say fucking, you know.”

“Fine,” James rolled his eyes. “Fucking.”

“I don’t get starstruck by anyone. Nor surprised when they reach out to me. It’s like what I said, they have seemingly endless power and it's downright exhausting. They need relief.”

“So what then? You pity them?”

“No. I understand them. And that’s why they turn to me,” he said resolutely, like he had this all figured out. “Honestly, I prefer my high profile clients. They’ll work harder to keep their distance. They’ll keep me anonymous. Keep me a secret like I was always meant to be.”

James felt something in him weaken at the thought. “You want to be a secret forever?” he asked, feeling the subject waver into another place.

Maybe Regulus felt it too. “For now,” he said. “It’s safer for now.”

James fell silent, a bit hopeless. Unable to hear faint aspiration in Regulus’ words when the anxiety was talking so much louder. “Hey, Regulus?” he asked, scratching under the collar of his t-shirt.

“Yes, darling?”

He felt the smile at the word, the senseless little pet name that sounded so good in Regulus’ mouth. “I just…” he ran a hand over his face, feeling embarrassed. “I really fucking miss you. I wish more than anything that I was there with you.”

Regulus was quiet for a long moment, a bit of passive noise in the background. Heels clicking on tile, soft-spoken conversations. When the man finally spoke, his voice was low, not wanting to be overheard. “I’m flying back home in two days,” he told him. “It will be better after that. I promise.”

It wasn’t quite what James had expected. But it was soft, intentional. Speaking volumes with subtleties. And for some reason, that made it so much better than a simple ‘miss you’. So much more him.

“Listen,” Regulus breathed. “I should be going.”

“Yeah,” James nodded. “Yeah, you should go.”

“Text me tomorrow. When you get to work. Okay?”

“I will.”

“And James?”

“Yes?”

“I wish you were here too.”

The small heatwave had cleared the clouds from the sky the day they all went out on the boat. The lake was full of coasting boats, enjoying the winds and the sun as they waved to passing parties. James was seated at the bow, watching from behind his beer as Lily sat in Mary’s lap to drive. Something protective in the hands that were wrapped around her curvy middle. As if Mary’s guard was activated by James’ presence.

Sirius seemed oblivious to the hint of tension, dancing himself around the deck with a canned cocktail raised high. They were playing some sort of steel drum music as if they were sailing the Caribbean and not some congested city lake.

Remus was sitting across from James, a book in his hand that he seemed absurdly focused on behind his sunglasses. Letting his foot tap James’ every once in a while just to meet his eyes with a wordless glance that seemed to be checking in.

James gave a smile and nod as he threw back more cold beer. Letting the wind skate through his hair and open shirt as they made their way towards a spot to drop anchor. Turning the music up and digging into the food. Their conversations flowing in and out of topics as James tried to sink back into himself for as long as possible.

“How have you been, James?” Lily asked from her place across from him as she opened a bag of barbeque chips. “How’s work?”

He perked up. “Uh,” he blinked. “It’s great. We are having a big benefit event in New York next month.”

“New York?” her eyes widened. “Conquering the whole country now?”

“Well, not exactly,” he huffed.

“He’s partnering up with my hellish cousins,” Sirius spoke up, adjusting the wide brim of his hat. “Sold his soul for that cold, hard oil money.”

James’ cheeks went flushed warm at the way Lily’s expression went dull. “No, that’s not it,” he shook his head. “It’s just advantageous for us. Extend our platform, widen our circle.”

Mary’s nose scrunched, “Widen it to a bunch of other unethical billionaires who are destroying the environment?”

“No,” he said firmly. “It’s just…” His words fell short, sending a short glare towards Sirius that his friend didn’t clock.

Remus cleared his throat, “I think that the event sounds like a great opportunity, James. And you’ll be putting their money to great work helping people who need it. You should feel good about that.”

James smiled at him, a silent thank you in his eyes.

“I’m sure it will be great,” Lily agreed. “You’ve never made a misstep when it comes to the organization.”

“Thank you, honey,” he nodded. He could see the slight discomfort on Mary’s face, fueling something petty in him. “Lily, do you remember the last time we went to the East Coast? I think it must have been D.C., right?”

“Yes,” she brightened. “It was for that panel you did. I remember.”

“I’ll never forget the Air and Space Museum, because you-”

“Yes, I lost my camera,” she rolled her eyes. “And you weren’t going to let me live it down. You kept complaining about all those photos we had lost. On and on, you went.”

“I had just wanted them,” he reached forward to knock her knee. “You had been wearing that sweater my mom made. That teal one? It looked so stupid pretty on you.”

“But then…” Lily snapped his fingers, green eyes lighting up.

James couldn’t stop smiling, shaking his head, “You tell them, honey.”

Lily laughed, turning towards the group who was watching them, “But then whoever found it, saw the pictures from James’ panel and they returned it to our hotel. But not before they took some incredibly naughty photos of themselves at some truck stop bathroom doing things with their mouths that we could only dream of.”

“Well then,” Sirius exploded in laughter, drink sloshing onto the floor of the boat. “How very considerate of them. Taking good samaritan to a whole ‘nother level.”

“I still have them, Sirius. If you need some new ideas about how to spice up the bedroom,” James cackled, catching even Mary letting out a scoff behind her brilliant smile that she tried to conceal.

“Hardly,” Sirius rolled his eyes, coming closer to lace an arm around James’ neck. “In fact, you should definitely keep them. They can keep you warm on those nights your new beau is away.”

The laughter thinned in the air, going awkward. James’ smile staling as his brows furrowed, shooting a glare right through Sirius.

“Beau?” Lily asked.

James’ attention pulled away, his eyes going wide on Lily’s face. Noticing the tilt in her head, the question in her eyes.

“He’s got a long distance relationship now,” Sirius explained. His breath smelling like fruity rum.

James could have easily flipped backward over the edge of the boat and drowned himself. Wishing that he could launch himself out of this moment as he felt all their eyes hover on him. “Uh, yeah, I do,” he said weakly before shrugging out of Sirius’ embrace and standing up. He started taking off his shirt. “We should go for a swim while the sun is still out.”

Sirius clapped his hands together, “Marvelous idea, my friend. Let’s swim.”

It kept James’ mind distracted, trying to enjoy the chill of the lake water. The quiet just under the surface where no one could touch him. Where he could submerge himself and imagine that Sirius hadn’t just outed him to his ex-wife. That they all weren’t one step closer to exposing him for his indiscretions. Because he knew they wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t look deep enough to see what James had seen in Regulus. Not just a sex worker, but a brilliant person. And that wasn’t a problem he could face today.

The sun was setting and the lake was clearing. James was drying off, sitting on the stern and letting his feet grace the water. Wishing that someone specific was there but knowing it was impossible. Wondering if he should call him, but he knew he was flying back home tonight. Perhaps he had already left Toronto, perhaps he was airborne. James’ eyes raised to the sky, wishing he could track him like a shooting star.

“How are you doing, bud?”

James looked to his side, watching as Lily squeezed next to him. There were two open beers in her hand, one that she passed to James. “I’m okay,” he smiled.

She gathered her wet hair into her hands to tie it off, “Thanks again for bringing these beers. They are my favorite.”

“Of course,” he nodded, clinking bottles with her. “Bottoms up.” He took a long gulp, needing it for whatever was coming. He could always tell when Lily was about to spark a delicate conversation.

“So,” she sighed, wiping her mouth against the back of her hand. “Sirius may have let something slip between drink four and five.”

James winced, face contorting in shame. “Yeah, he did.”

“You’re doing long-distance,” she cheered brightly.

“It’s fairly recent.”

“It’s the first relationship since…” her eyes hinted at the suggestion. “I know there was some casual stuff, right?”

“Yeah,” his lips pressed tightly together. “But this feels… different. Good different.”

She huffed, raising her bottle to her mouth, “The sex must be good to have you chasing him across the country.”

James’ mouth twisted up, shoulders going stiff. “Lily,” he rolled his eyes.

“What?” she knocked his shoulder. “The longest we ever spent apart was that training I did in Phoenix for two weeks. And did you not show up at my hotel like it was a cross-country booty call?”

He remembered. Showing up at her door and feeling her in his arms like they hadn’t felt complete without her in them. He shrugged, “I missed you.”

She laughed, “I know you did. You always were insatiable, James. Right up until the end.”

He darkened, memories flooding back. As if they were always just below the surface of his consciousness, waiting to come back up. “If you’re talking about the cheating-”

“Oh, no,” her eyes widened. She held up her hands defensively. “I wasn’t. I’m sorry, James.”

His shoulders fell, hating his own reactionary impulses. “No,” he shook his head. “You shouldn’t be apologizing. I was the one who did it.”

It went awkward for some time, both of them just drinking their beers. Watching the horizon fade golden. Sirius was humming along to the music somewhere behind them. Mary and Remus were cleaning up.

“Sometimes,” Lily started, looking down into the water. “I think I should apologize for it. Because I knew sex was important to you. And I thought by withholding it, I was holding onto the only power I had left in our marriage. But I didn’t get how much you needed sex to communicate, to feel loved. So, you shut down and found it elsewhere.”

Sex as power. It took James back to conversations with Regulus. The complex push and pull between two people. He hadn’t ever considered it when he was with Lily, he could barely follow it now. “It doesn’t matter,” he shook his head. “I regret it every single day. You didn’t deserve that, Lily. No matter what.”

Her smile was softer now, earnest. Subtle creases near her eyes that hadn’t been there when they were still together. Signs of happy days, of laughter. With James and without him. She fixed the strap of her bathing suit absentmindedly. “You know, the kids thing we might have been able to work out,” she admitted. “But we were speaking different languages when it came to expressing our needs.”

James didn’t know how to take it. Because it didn’t quite sound like a criticism, more like a shared burden that they didn’t know how to carry. He couldn’t tell if she was right. “And you and Mary?” he asked, gaze flicking back towards her girlfriend. “Do you speak the same language?”

Lily looked down into her lap, suppressing a grin for a moment before she met James’ eyes again. “When I come home from work every single day, do you know the first thing she does?” she brightened, licking at her teeth. “She sits on the couch with me and rubs my feet while I tell her about every single baby that arrived in my arms that day. And when the babies don’t make it, when the mothers flatline, she doesn’t ask any questions. She just lets me cry in her arms and unload about it.”

James remembered those days very differently. How Lily would shut down, get touchy. Clean the house like it was a compulsion. That was how he had known what happened. They didn’t talk about the details. James had assumed they were too painful. Maybe it had been stupid of him to assume that, to not ask. He tried to stop himself from falling backward down a trail of what ifs, instead forcing a smile and touching her knee gently, “I’m happy for you, Lily. Truly.”

She laughed, placing her hand over James’ and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. Purely platonic but comforting, familiar. “What about this long-distance lover of yours?” she sipped her beer. “Does he speak the same language as you?”

James thought about Regulus. About the wordlessness of his communications. The glances, touches. All those things he missed so greatly when he was away. “I think so,” he nodded. “Maybe a different dialect. I’m still trying to decipher it.”

She smiled so sincerely, her angelic glow going brighter, “I hope you do.”

James took a deep breath, feeling the well wishes sink deeper like prayers that he needed. “I love you,” he told her. “I always will.”

“Oh, James,” she threw her arms around him, pulling him into her cool, damp skin as she spoke in his ear. “I love you too.”

It was late by the time James finally got home, hopping into the shower to rinse off the grime of lake water and salt. He only realized that he was still tipsy when he caught his reflection in the full length mirror, admiring the fresh depth of his tan from a day in the sun. He had always been a bit overconfident with a few drinks in him, but he wasn’t complaining. He grabbed his phone, snapping a cheeky photo and sending it off to Regulus.

The call was quick to come in after that.

“Good evening,” James answered, tossing an old t-shirt from college over his head.

“Not so good.”

He went stiff, brows drawing together, “What’s wrong?”

Regulus groaned, “What’s wrong is that I’m not there to kiss you from head to toe.”

James’ laugh rang out. “Even my lips?”

“We will never know because instead I’m stuck in an airport with a canceled flight and no more bars open.”

James could hear a voice over the loudspeaker in the back repeating itself in French. “When is the next flight out?”

“Who fucking knows,” he sighed. “They are rerouting me now.”

“They could reroute you here,” James suggested. “Someone needs to rub this stiff tan down with aloe.”

“Is that what your ex’s call you? The Stiff Tan.”

“It wouldn’t be inaccurate. Especially not when I’m with you.”

“Fuck you, Potter,” he whimpered. “Don’t prey on me at my weakest.”

“Oh, I think we can get you weaker than that,” he purred, feeling the sludge of those beers in his veins.

There was a smirk in Regulus’ quiet that was so achingly him, holding back for a few long moments before he spoke again. “Where did you get this tan then?”

James went to the kitchen, grabbing water. “Spent the day on a boat,” he said carefully. “With some friends.”

“Since when do you have a boat?”

He huffed. “I don’t. It was…” his words slowed, alcohol narrowing his filter. “It was Lily’s girlfriend's boat.”

“As in your ex?” Regulus asked, something more pointed in his tone.

“The one and only.”

The end of the line was nothing but the echo of other voices. “And how was that?”

“It was fine,” he breathed. “Nice, even. We got the chance to talk. And not just polite small talk in passing. Actually talk.”

“What did you two talk about?”

James gritted his teeth together. “She found out I’m seeing someone.”

“I thought we agreed, no-”

“Yeah, well, Sirius is a bit of a nosy loudmouth. He wanted you to come today, but I had to tell him you couldn’t. That you live on the East Coast. Which for some reason, he thought was public information that he could practically megaphone to the group.”

“They don’t know anything? My name, my age, my career. What about my ballet stuff? Or about my house?” he hurriedly ran the options off like a checklist.

“Regulus, relax,” James shook his head. “They don’t know any of that stuff.”

He seemed to breathe easier from the other end of the line. “Okay then, tell me. What did she say?”

James moved his phone to his other shoulder, sitting himself up on the kitchen counter. Remembering just weeks ago when it was Regulus sitting here. It kicked low in his gut where it count. “She hopes that we speak the same language.”

Regulus scoffed, “This conversation would be a lot more confusing if we didn’t.”

“Not like that,” he huffed, smiling. “She meant… intimacy wise. How we show each other affection, how we communicate our feelings. Told me that she and I weren’t aligned and that’s why we… you know.”

“Fell apart?”

He winced. “Yeah.”

“Do you agree?”

“Maybe,” James ran a hand through his damp hair. “Probably.”

Regulus hmphed at the other end, “She talks about compatibility like some zodiac girl.”

“Ugh,” he groaned. “Don’t get me started. She used to think she could guess anyone’s sign within five minutes of meeting them. Used to have theories about babies born during which whatever retrograde and how they would give her less trouble. ‘Oh, she’s going to be a Cancer, but her mom is a Taurus, so-’”

Regulus laughed, “And did she say about yours?”

James thought back, trying to remember, “Well, I’m an Aries. So, apparently it means I’m competitive and short-tempered-”

“You? James Potter? Never,” he gasped in feigned surprise.

James’ teeth grinded together, thinking back to their talk as he was leaving New York. “Yeah,” he cringed. “I guess you’ve already seen that play out, haven’t you?”

“It’s cute,” Regulus assured him. “You’re cute when you’re mad. It clashes with your need to be morally righteous. Hurting yourself in your confusion.”

“Wow,” he choked. “How are you so profound and mysterious in one breath and in the next, you are making a Pokemon reference?”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “My soothsayer, Pandora, would tell me it’s proof I’m a Capricorn.”

James snorted, “Capri-corny maybe.”

Regulus laughed, loud and hard. A stomach-clutching laugh that he wasn’t restraining behind heavily guarded caution.

James closed his eyes, listening intently as if it was his favorite symphony. Hearing the way it softened, quieted down to nothing but an audible smile. “I miss that,” he murmured into the receiver.

“What?”

“Your laugh,” he breathed. “I miss being there to make it happen.”

Regulus’ heavy exhale buzzed in his ear. “It misses you too,” he said, like the earnesty was difficult to say.

James bit into his lips, feeling closeness there. As if they were just a few inches apart, not thousands of miles. His chest swelled, heavy with emotion. “What do you think?” he whispered. “Are we speaking the same language?”

The quiet held like a breath. Regulus’ voice barely louder than a whisper when he spoke again. “I think we’re doing alright.”

James’ face ached with a smile. “I think so too,” he agreed, lingering in that peacefulness until the airport noise drowned it out again. “Hey, how about I grab my laptop and we find a way to get you back in your bed before morning?”

“Are you paying? I thought your days as a client were over?”

“I’m not paying you like a client,” he specified, jumping off the edge of the counter. “I’m taking care of you. Like a… a-”

“Stepdad?” Regulus supplied. “Is that what you were going to say?”

“No, actually,” James smiled, a warm tint in his face. “I was going to say boyfriend.”

Regulus’ quiet went more hesitant, only confirmed with his voice. “Not yet, James,” he seemed to plead. “I’m not ready for that yet.”

James’ smile didn’t fade, neither did the warmth. “The word will still be there when you’re ready for it.”

Chapter Text

Peter’s birthday was the perfect summer party. He and his family lived in a suburb on the south side of the city, a house with a sprawling deck and pool that were perfect for the kids to play. As James maneuvered around it, he could tell exactly who the friends with kids were as they were quick to call after the dozen or so kids who were trailing water all over the brick before they’d run and splash into the pool again. Quips of ‘be careful’ or ‘no running’ were barely audible over the screaming laughter of tiny lungs.

Peter’s wife, Savannah, was bringing out a huge buffet of food from the kitchen and encouraging people to grab a plate. There were a few coolers stacked with beers and one for just the kids. James grabbed one, checking his watch briefly as he pulled the tab and noting that it was getting late. The sun had already set and left the deck illuminated in the outdoor flood lights, the uplighting of the lit pool tinting everyone’s faces aqua blue.

James sipped his second beer, watching alongside Remus from across the deck as a visibly drunk Sirius hung off Mary’s shoulder, while Lily was laughing at whatever they were saying. “Sirius seems a bit eager tonight,” he noted.

“Yeah,” Remus sighed. “He’s had a rough week.”

There was something somber lingering in his tone and when James looked over, he could see concern making the man’s hazel eyes go rounder as he looked off towards his husband. “Something wrong?”

Remus blinked, meeting his eyes like he had been caught. “I can’t tell you,” he shook his head. “It is for him to tell you.”

James’ shoulders fell. “Come on,” he nudged his shoulder. “You know him. That could take ages.”

“I have a feeling it won’t be,” he said surely, no smile on his face.

James fell quiet for a moment, eyes catching on Peter across the deck. “I’m going to go give my wishes to the birthday boy,” he said, leaving Remus to his pensiveness as he made his way towards the host. “Hello, hello,” he smiled, opening his arms wide. “Happy birthday, buddy!”

“Jim,” Peter beamed, embracing him. “So glad you could make it.”

“Well, I could barely get a happy birthday in. You and Sav have been the hosts with the mosts tonight running around for everyone.”

“I couldn’t have done it without her,” he said, looking absolutely lovesick for the woman he had married long before meeting James.

“So,” he slung an arm around him. “What did you get for your birthday?”

“Actually, this birthday isn’t so much about receiving as it is discarding,” he laughed, before pulling the collar of his printed button up a little wider to reveal the edge of his binder beneath.

James’ eyes lit up. “You’re getting-”

“Mhm,” Peter nodded emphatically. “I’m scheduled for surgery next month.”

“No fucking way,” he laughed, slapping the man’s back. “That’s incredible. Congratulations, man.”

“Thank you, Jim. I couldn’t be more ready.”

James could feel his smile cracking, aching empathy slipping through. “Peter,” he sobered. “If I had known you wanted it-”

The man rolled his eyes, “You would have waved your magic wand and paid for everything. I know.”

James bit into his lips, knowing it was true. Not knowing why it sounded so ridiculous when Peter said it. “Okay, fine. Yes,” he agreed. “So, why didn’t you tell me?”

Peter sighed hard, looking off towards his children playing. His wife starting to take away the demolished plates of food. “It’s just…” he tried to start. “This was something I wanted to do. I wanted us to do. As a family. I wanted the kids to learn that in the act of becoming yourself, it is the hard work you do with the support of the people you love most that makes all the difference.” He sat in that for a moment, still watching them before he looked to James, “You know what I mean?”

James considered it, letting his focus pull off towards the kids splashing in the pool. James felt slightly mystified by the noise: the cackling squeals, the wet feet on the concrete, the cannonball splashes. He found himself spiraling forward in time, trying to imagine his own house alive with the same noise. It churned something so warm in his gut. It felt like a sense of home he just hadn’t been privy to uncovering yet. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I get it.”

“Hey, James?”

“Mm?” he hummed, turning to look over at Peter who had been staring. Something investigative just beyond the fringes of his ginger-tinted lashes.

“Are you…” his mouth twisted up into a smile. “Dating the flavored lube dude?”

James blinked, unmoving for a long moment before his eyes cast out to the deck around them. Spotting Sirius throwing the ball for Pete’s dog, Remus and Lily flipping through a dusty case of Peter’s CDs to select the next song. James cleared his throat, volume dropping low, “Well, that’s not his actual job.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Peter huffed, watching James’ carefully again. “Is that a yes?”

He felt himself bubble up, like he’d been waiting to say it for longer than he even knew. Like he was ready to scream it. “Yeah,” he nodded. “But. I’m trying not to let anyone know. So if you could keep it… you know.”

“Of course,” Peter motioned zipping his lips together.

James felt the ring in his pocket, shaking down his whole leg. He reached for it, eyes adjusting to the brightness of the screen as Regulus’ name showed across the top.

“Is that him?” Peter asked, leaning a little further into his shoulder.

James looked back at him. And maybe there was something in his expression that confirmed it.

Peter beckoned back towards the house, “Go outfront and take it.”

He gave him a nod as he wove through the clusters of adults on the deck, slipping through the house as he answered the call. “Hello?” he asked, hearing the television going off in the living room where Peter’s mother was probably catching the late night news from her armchair.

“Hey,” Regulus’ voice was close, nearly sleepy like he was laying in bed. “Where are you?”

James ducked out the front door, down the pathway towards the darkened suburban street laid out in front of him. “I’m at a friend’s house for his birthday,” he said, eyes drawing up towards the amber street lamps that lit the road. It was humid enough that he could see the vapor clouding them, making everything feel hazy and warm. “You know Peter, my driver.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

If he hadn’t known Regulus as well as he did, he probably wouldn’t have noticed the tinge of shadow in his voice. “What’s up?” he asked, with enough softness in his voice to convey concern.

“Nothing,” Regulus sighed. “I just… had a rough day.”

“Why’s that?” James let the toe of his sneaker ghost over the tips of the tightly trimmed grass that the edge of the walkway.

He was quiet for a moment, a slight hitch in his throat when he spoke again, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

James felt amorphous fear latch its claws into his subconscious. “Regulus. We said-”

“I’m not trying to keep a secret,” he protested. “I’m just trying to give myself a moment without thinking about it, okay?”

James went pensive, turning it over in his brain as the excuses that tended to rise to the surface were skimmed away. “Okay,” he conceded. “How can I distract you then?”

“I am coming tomorrow.”

“Yes, you are.”

“What are we going to do when I’m there?”

James huffed, peeking over his shoulder just to make sure there was no one there. “Funny that you think we’ll leave the bed.”

Regulus laughed despite himself.

James dared to imagine him, head tipped back and eyes closed as his smirk grew so wide he had to laugh. “We’ll do whatever you like,” he whispered. “Whatever makes you happy.”

Regulus went quiet, haughty smile twisting through the phone. “You’re so tricky, James,” he whispered like it was a curse.

It ran like warm water down his back, eliciting a heat that seeped everywhere. “Why’s that?”

“Things just feel so easy with you. But they aren’t.”

James pouted towards the chalk drawings on the sidewalk, “Tell me then. Why aren’t they?”

Regulus sighed, crackling through the speaker. The sound of his sheets shifting, crinkling before he seemed to steady. “I’ve never…” he hesitated. “Dated anyone before.”

“How?” James glared.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re just… you. You’re enigmatic and gorgeous and fascinating.”

“Keep going.”

James smiled. “God damn it. You know I could.”

“There’s been no lack of interest,” he pointed out.

James rolled his eyes, unsurprised. “But?”

“But it was never the right time,” Regulus insisted. “It was in the middle of ballet, it was after my parents died, it was when I started taking clients. And after that it just got too complicated. So I stopped looking.”

“Until me,” James murmured. Never prouder of himself.

“Yeah,” he agreed, but there was something shameful in his tone.

James’ smile dimmed to nothing, slipping right off his face. He looked up towards the hazy night sky where no stars shined back. “Regulus. I don’t know how I can be better for you.”

“You couldn’t possibly be better, darling.”

“Then why isn’t this easy?” he asked, hearing just how rhetorical it sounded in his mouth.

Regulus must have heard it too. “Hey,” he said. “I’ll let you go. Enjoy your party.”

“Reg,” he breathed, though he could hear the loud singing of Happy Birthday coming from the backyard.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, darling,” he whispered before promptly hanging up.

James was in the arrivals line at the airport. He was leaned up against his car, checking his watch every thirty seconds like it would tell him just how much longer Regulus would be. It had fallen to night already and he had spent the bulk of his day making sure his house was clean, his fridge was stocked.

Regulus had texted him when he’d landed, which had been nearly twenty minutes ago and James had already watched a few folks slip out that were still wearing their tourist trap bought Yankees hats and I Heart New York t-shirts. “Where are you, Reg?” he murmured to himself.

It was another five minutes before the doors opened again and a swell of people walked through. James’ eyes darted between them looking for exactly who he needed to see most, before Regulus emerged from behind them. He was carrying a large duffle over his shoulder, his backpack on his back, headphones around his neck.

James’ smile bloomed as he finally caught his gaze, watching it mirror in the upturn of Regulus’ smirk. He watched him come closer to the edge of the curb where he raced to drop his bags. “Come here,” James laughed, gathering him up into his arms until the man’s legs were wrapping around his middle. His weight and his warmth feeling so perfect as they took their time embracing each other.

Regulus was laughing when he pulled away to look into his eyes. “Did you miss me?” he sassed.

“Is that even a question?” James’ eyes widened. “How could I not?”

Regulus jumped down, letting James grab his bags and toss them into the trunk. “I forget how much cooler it is here,” he said, rubbing his bare arms. “New York is practically melting us all by this time of the year.”

“Here,” James shrugged off his jacket and handed it to him. “Take this.”

Regulus smiled shyly, slipping into it wordlessly as James opened the passenger door for him.

The highways were quiet at this time of night, just a few cars coming and going from the airport. James had the radio on, playing something soft as Regulus scrolled through his phone.

“I was actually doing some research about places to go here.”

James looked over at him, flabbergasted, “You were?”

“Don’t act so shocked,” he waved him away. “Do you know about this beach with the floating rocks?”

“Floating rocks?” he asked, not following.

“They look like they are floating. They are in the water. I was looking at it because-” but he stopped.

“What?” James looked over, noticing the subtle knitting of his brows. The way his attention had pulled away towards the window. “What is it?”

“Your tire sounds weird,” he noted quietly.

James tried to listen, not hearing anything other than the normal whine of the tires. “I don’t-”

“No, pull over. Something is up,” Regulus commanded, pointing to a bit of shoulder up ahead.

James did as he was told, pulling off the highway and flicking the hazards on as Regulus started to unbuckle his seatbelt, shrugging off James’ jacket. “Wait here,” James told him, pressing a hand to his chest. “I can look at it.”

But he didn’t get the chance before Regulus was squeezing over the center console, one leg first and the other one following behind. He leaned his hands against James's seat. Crowding him as he brought his face close.

James looked up at him, something warm curling in his stomach. “Regulus,” he said calmly. “What are you-”

“There is nothing wrong with the tire.”

James saw the heady look in his eyes, the suggestive feel of his stance. He got what was happening quicker than he thought he would have. Hell, maybe Regulus was changing him. He readied his tongue to deny him, to tell him he didn’t appreciate the ridiculous stunt, but the words never got out as James’ hands reached around his thighs and dragged him down into his lap.

Regulus’ expression immediately softened, weak like it was doing something for him that made the tight grip of control tremble. His bright eyes went unmistakably round.

James felt incited by the look of his curious eyes, his warmth emanating off his body, suddenly ever so conscious of the meeting of their laps. He felt something hot streak down his spine. Too strong to fight. His hands spread upwards, fingers splayed as they worked under Regulus’ thighs. “You’re diabolical,” he hummed, bringing his face closer. Eyes flicking down to his mouth. “You know that?”

Regulus put a hand against his chest, pushing him back into the seat. “I’m fun.”

James’s hands went higher, ghosting over his ass and sliding up under the back of his shirt. Against his skin as they rounded around his waist. Feeling the way Regulus’s back straightened, his hips inadvertently grinding downward into James’ lap. The feeling blazed up him, leaving him lightheaded. He tightened his jaw, trying to hold his reaction.

One of Regulus’ hands trailed up to James’ chest, fingertips grazing softly against the skin on his sternum. Pausing for a moment before the smile slowly grew across his face. He laughed softly. “There it is,” he whispered.

And the sound of his voice, all hushed and warm, only made the feeling heighten. “There’s what?”

Regulus giggled. “Your breathing,” he teased.

“My breathing?”

His finger traced a circle at the center of his chest. “I like it when it goes all erratic,” he hummed. “It’s cute how bad you always want me.”

James felt all the caustic heat drip through his veins, too hot and wild. He let his hand guide Regulus’ shirt up his frame, tossing it off into the passenger seat. His hand wrapping around the base of his neck as he dragged him down, mouth finding his neck. Taking a greedy bite of his skin.

It made Regulus whimper. “James,” he sighed, the sound of it vibrating against the press of his lips at his throat.

James drew his face back, looking up at him. That roundness in his navy eyes so alive, like a fire that wouldn’t smother. “Don’t say my name like you want me to take you right here.”

Regulus’ smiled, sharp canine poking through as he leaned closer, cheek pressed to cheek. “James,” he said again, twice as filthy as he kissed into the spot behind his ear.

James’ eyes fell closed as he relished the way his lips felt. Tickling at the sensitive skin. Achingly sweet, but the heat of it encouraged that blaze that left him dizzy. Jumbling his thoughts so bad that the reason why this was a stupid idea got lost, consumed by the persistent want.

He leaned over, flicking his glove compartment open and feeling for the bottle of lube he kept in there. He tossed it between their laps as he slammed it shut.

Regulus looked down at it, brow crinkling and mouth pulling up on one side. “Why do you-?”

“Are you going to ask?” James’ hands traced up his bare torso again. “Or are you going to let me use it?”

Regulus smiled, leaning in to kiss and nip at James’ neck gently like an answer.

James was less sweet as his hand snaked down Regulus’s torso and gripped at the tented space of his sweatpants. And when Regulus gasped, grinding down into him, James groaned and doubled his efforts.

Regulus’s hands gripped into the fabric on James’ chest as his body shuddered, tensing up just to fall more open again.

James’s hands reached up his thighs again, fingers splayed as they worked up the back of his sweatpants. Over his ass and curling under the waistband, tugging them down just enough to get the access he needed. He uncapped the bottle, letting the sound be warning enough to have Regulus spreading his thighs wider, leaning further into James.

James’s hand gripped onto him again, inching forward until it was feeling at his entrance. It made Regulus shudder again. He circled him, teasing and slow.

Regulus arched his back eagerly, giving a whine into James’s neck.

James didn’t hesitate to press in. Feeling the vibration of Regulus’ whimper, the man’s hands going even tighter in the t-shirt as he drew him closer, kissed into him harder.

James felt weightless without even being touched, working that finger into him carefully. Adding another when the slide became smoother. Curling them up into Regulus in a way that had him panting, brows knitting together as he grinded into him with all his might. Like it would keep him from falling apart.

James pulled his fingers away, hands resting at Regulus’s waist and pushing him away gently. “Lean back,” he whispered, laying him back against the wheel.

Regulus looked down at where their hips met, watching as James pulled his shorts down enough to free his hard cock.

James stroked himself with the lube, grabbing for Regulus’ hips and drawing them up onto him. Lining himself up with his entrance before he slid in. He groaned, head falling back to the headrest as he felt Regulus’ hips grind down into him like he needed it just as bad. His hands tightened against Regulus’s hips, slowly manipulating them down his length and back up again.

Regulus worked with his rhythm, his thighs tensing as he rocked against him. Like he was savoring the slow and thorough meeting of their bodies.

James’s hand reached down, tugging at the remaining fabric of Regulus’s pants until he was wrapping around his dick, stroking him. He felt the way the man ached as if it was his ache too, felt him ride him quicker, harder like he was trying desperately to relieve the mounting pressure, but it was turning him volatile. Taking over everything and rendering him senseless.

James’s hand at his waist kept pulling him in, hand around his cock kept working him, thumbing over his slit at the dripping precome and spreading it. Watching like just the sight of Regulus, breathless and shuddering against him, was pleasure enough.

Regulus sat up, reaching for James’s face and drawing him in. Biting down onto his jaw and moaning. It made James’ thoughts go static, made him want to scream as he kept pumping him though his fist, kept rutting up into him. Feeling it take every muscle in his body to do, but not caring. He could feel his hand on Regulus’ cock tremor. Gripping more eager, working him faster like it would level their highs.

Regulus leaned his forehead into James’, whimpering higher and higher. His hands tightening around James’s jaw as it must have become too much. Combusting under the pressure and moaning loud as he spilled over James’s hand and himself.

It was too much for James, for he bit down on his own lip, stifling a sound as his body finally yielded to the all-encompassing wave of his climax. His hands going slack, falling away. Collapsing back into his seat as if passed out.

Regulus held his face, pulling him closer to kiss his cheek. “Hey,” he giggled, breath heaving in his chest. “Wake up. We can’t just sit here with hazards on.”

And James opened his eyes, smiling as he batted Regulus away. Looking up at him with that stunningly beautiful clarity in his eyes. Adoring him without words. “You’re fucking incredible,” he panted.

“Obviously,” Regulus laughed. “Now, take me home.”

Chapter Text

James delighted in waking up first, in carefully unpeeling himself from Regulus’ side as he went to the kitchen to start making coffee. The day looked bright, wide with opportunities, as everything but Regulus had long past left his consciousness. Even the thought of Regulus leaving tomorrow felt far off, distant like something that might not even happen. Afterall, what was stopping the man from staying longer, from keeping James smiling for a few more precious days. It brought feelings of excitement too pure to tamper with reality.

The doorbell rang, pulling him from his bliss as he grabbed his shirt from the floor where Regulus had discarded it last night. He went to answer it, caught off guard when a pair of familiar blue eyes, a ravenous twist of curls, a deeply knitted brow, stood across from him.

“Sirius,” James breathed, his grip on the edge of the door going tighter. “What are you doing here?”

The man’s face contorted, wincing at nothing. “I just…” he struggled, like there wasn’t enough air to speak. “I wanted to talk to you.”

James felt a tint of blush working its way up the back of his neck, hand going there as if to quell it, to hide it. “Right now?” he asked, voice cracking before he cleared his throat. His gaze darted behind him, sweeping across the clear kitchen and living room. The cracked open bedroom door. His pulse rose. “It isn’t exactly the best-”

“James.”

His head whipped back around, eyeing his friend. He could see the sink of his shoulders, the pallor of his face, a weakened bob in his throat that spoke volumes louder than he did. And suddenly, James was remembering Remus back at the party.

He’s had a rough week. It is for him to tell you.

James exhaled too harshly, eyes sneaking a look back at the house and seeing no Regulus. “Yeah,” he breathed, nodding. “Yeah, okay. Come in, I guess.” He left the door open, speeding towards the bedroom before Sirius could even get close. James peeked in, seeing the duvet kicked down the bed and the sheets empty. He felt his pulse thrum to life, gaze roaming around the room without any sight of Regulus.

He closed the bedroom door, back up against it as he watched Sirius take a seat on the couch. He looked back towards the kitchen when it caught his eye. Just behind the island that faced the back of the couch, Regulus was sitting on the floor. His back up against the island as his own navy eyes were big and round staring back at James silently. He must have looked as panicked as he suddenly felt because Regulus carefully raised a finger to his mouth, signaling him to be quiet.

James blinked, suddenly a little lightheaded at the proximity of danger. “Sirius,” he called. “Can I get you some water?”

“No, no. I’m fine.”

James eyed Regulus, sending something of a silent ‘be good’ towards him as he tried to nonchalantly stride towards the living room. He took a seat across from his friend, sitting on edge as he watched Sirius far too in his own head to notice anything going on.

Sirius was messing with the wedding ring on his finger, twisting it like a nervous habit. His eyes focused on the ground. Letting the silence draw out so long and loud that James felt tasked with breaking it up.

“What’s wrong, Sirius?”

“Nothing,” he was quick to say, shaking his head. “It’s not that big of a deal. I just. I thought you should know. You know? Just in case you ask or something or-”

“Hey,” James interjected, drawing the man’s eyes towards him. His head ran with the worst of thoughts. Not helped by his knowledge of Regulus in earshot. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Sirius looked scared, in a way James knew he would have hated. He took a deep breath, fingernails tapping against the yellow gold of his band. “I…” he looked away, head hanging low. “I lost my job.”

James was still for a moment, comprehending. Playing it back again. He sunk back into the couch, feeling the wind momentarily knocked out of him.

Sirius curled his hair behind his ear. “They… they were launching something,” he explained. “Asking my team to support it, research it. But it wasn’t ethical. And I pointed this out to them, numerous times. I completed reports, did presentations. Found ways for them to get the same information without misleading users, exploiting them.” He forced a tight smile, nothing happy in it, “But they didn’t care. They were going to pull the trigger. And they gave me the opportunity to walk. So I did.”

James could see the disappointment on his face. The years he’d committed to the work slipping away like rain off his face. “Sirius,” he murmured, reaching out to put a hand to his friend’s knee. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s just,” he swallowed, working through emotions that seemed to come up his throat. He brushed James’ hand away, looking at where it had just sat like he missed it already. “I wanted better for the users. Wanted to do something good. But that never really seems to work out for me.”

James’ brows creased, tilting his head, “What do you mean?”

Sirius shrugged, “First, I wanted to run my family’s company. Wanted to set it right. But I fucked that up.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” James shook his head. “Your brother shut you out of that deal. Left you with nothing.”

“Yeah, I know,” he winced again, like he was reliving something painful. “I’m having a hard time remembering who shut who out these days.”

James went quiet, feeling the weight of contexts he didn’t understand. Watching Sirius mentally work past it.

“Now, this,” the man continued. “I don’t know. Maybe I can’t do it. Maybe I can’t enact the change I want to. Maybe I can’t make a difference.”

“Of course you can. You just haven’t gotten the chance yet.”

Sirius seemed discontent with it, mouth thinning into a flat line.

James felt his chest ache with empathy. Knowing that the Sirius sitting in front of him wasn’t so easily uncovered. That he was a softer, more exposed version of himself that existed under layers of bravado and mischief. There had only been a handful of times James had ever seen this and he knew that he required care that was perhaps out of his capacity. “Hey,” he tried to smile. “Why don’t you come work with me? We could use you in evaluation.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Riding your coattails is hardly going to fix my problems.”

James scoffed, “Don’t be stubborn, Sirius.”

His eyes finally raised, now full of fire. “You don’t get it, James,” he snapped. “You have something beautiful and successful that is entirely your own. And I, despite my best efforts, have become no more than the degenerate they always thought I would be.”

“Who are you talking about?” James rolled his eyes, slightly put off by the sudden bitterness in his tone. “Who’s ‘they’?”

It only served to work Sirius up more. Eyed widening like it was obvious. “Everyone,” he nearly shouted. “My insane fucking family. My cruel, belittling teachers. Hell, even my coworkers treated me like a moron because I thought for more than two seconds before taking an order,” he argued. “I just can’t do it. People take one look at me and they close their ears. No one takes me seriously. No one actually listens to me.”

“I listen,” James told him, calming his tone. “I am listening, Sirius. And I want to help.”

“If you were listening, you would hear that I don’t want to work at your organization.”

“Okay, fine,” he raised his hands in protest. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“Want to help,” he rolled his eyes. “You said that.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “It’s true. I want you to have an opportunity that seems made for you. That is everything you ever wanted.”

Sirius suddenly looked wounded, cheek twitching to the side. Brushing his hair out of his face with increased effort. “That opportunity was sold off a long time ago. And I don’t think I’ll be getting another one like it.”

James watched him, seeing the past wearing on him. Thinking back and knowing that there had always a harbored, nameless darkness in Sirius. Something he kept trying to outrun, like it was catching up on him in the rearview. Haunt him so deeply that he couldn’t distinguish himself from it. James felt it like an echo of some familiar feeling, like deja vu he couldn’t put his finger on.

“Hey,” he choked out, reaching for Sirius’ hand and holding it tightly. Pulling their stares together. “You’ve got so much more time. You practically just got here. You need to give yourself that same patience you were preaching to me about, okay?”

Sirius’ blue eyes softened, silent appreciation in them that he couldn't’ manage with his words. He heaved a breath, pulling his hand away as he started to get up, “Alright, get dressed.”

James’ eyes widened. “What?”

“Come on,” he called, making his way towards the door. “Let’s just say fuck it all and go get a fucking drink.”

The kitchen island slammed back into James’ consciousness. “Uh,” he blinked, trying to think. “Actually, I had some plans today and-”

Sirius stopped, turning to look at him. He looked him up and down, something quizzical right behind his stare. “Oh.”

James glared at him. “Oh? What oh?”

Sirius looked around the room, catching the trail of clothes that had been left there. His voice pulled down to a whispered hiss, “He’s here, isn’t he?”

James’ stomach sloshed sideways, standing up as if he was going to have to suddenly tackle Sirius to the floor to keep him from going further into the house. “He’s still sleeping,” he told him carefully.

His smirk pulled up on one side, a devilish sparkle in his eyes at the impulsive thought of ruining everything, “Could I-”

“No,” he interjected firmly.

Sirius’ lip stuck out in a pout.

James sighed, raggedly, hand sweeping beneath his glasses to rub his eyes. “Can you just…” he gritted his teeth together. “We aren’t there yet. We are just seeing each other. And at the risk of scaring him away entirely-”

“Don’t you mean stealing him away?”

“You aren’t his type.”

“Married?”

“Short.”

“Ouch,” Sirius hissed. “He hasn’t met anyone?”

“No,” James replied impulsively, before remembering it was a lie. There was Peter, technically.

Sirius raised a brow, “Have you met his friends? Family?”

“No,” he lied again. Pandora, fuck. He shook the thoughts from his head, “Like I told you. We aren’t ready for that yet. So if you could just-” he beckoned towards the door.

“Fine,” he sighed, making his way out. “I’ll leave you to your honeymoon period. Enjoy it while it lasts, lovebirds.”

“Yeah, yeah. See ya,” he waved him away, eagerly watching each footstep until the door was shut behind him. He clutched his hand to his chest, breathing a sigh of relief before he skidded towards the kitchen. He spotted Regulus again in the same spot as before, a hand over his mouth like he was holding any sound from coming out.

The man looked up at him, eyes catching the light. They were wet with tears.

James felt something in him sink, a dying star falling to earth. “Hey,” he soothed, crouching down to his level. “What’s wrong?”

Regulus removed his hand from his mouth, tears just on the brink of falling as he shamefully blinked them back. He sniffled, shaking his head. “Your friend,” he choked out. “I just… feel bad for him.”

James felt his smile go warm on his face. Something comforting in Regulus’ empathy for a stranger. It wasn’t like him. It was like James. And it made James distantly wonder if it was an imparting of himself. “He’ll bounce back,” he told him. “He always does.”

Regulus swallowed, arms crossing over himself protectively. “He-e,” he struggled. “He seems like a good person.”

“He is,” James nodded, sinking into the seat next to Regulus on the floor.

He was biting into his lower lip, wearing it between his teeth. His gaze was on the floor, mind somewhere else.

James admired him, in all his pensive beauty. “And how did you end up here exactly?” he nudged his shoulder, attempting to lighten the mood.

Regulus shook his head, “Heard the door. Just wanted to see who it was. But you invited him in. I wasn’t quick enough.”

“Sorry, he just-”

“Stop,” Regulus met his eyes. “You’re a good friend to him, James.”

It existed somewhere between passively sweet and darkly serious. A line Regulus walked gracefully. “Come here,” James murmured, wrapping his arms around him to embrace him tightly. He put his nose into his hair, smelling his scent like it was the perfect thing to equalize the high and lows of his mood. To put to rest any anxiety and bring him back into the moment. He kissed his ear, pulling away to look upon his handsome face. “Now, what about those floating rocks?”

James could feel the tight seal on Regulus as they got ready for the day. It was taking showers and getting dressed and packing lunches and clamoring into James’ car before he even saw the hint of his smile again. A few cheery songs on the radio, a bright, sunny day, a rolled down window that was tousling Regulus’ dark curls as they watched the emerald treeline grow thicker, the hills turn to mountains. It seemed to be the effort the man needed to leave the morning in the rearview and look forward to what lie ahead.

James made passive small talk, asking if he’d ever seen the Pacific. He said only in California where he’d spent the summer at a workshop at USC. James asked him more questions, delving deeper into stories of pasts Regulus needed effort to remember. And they both seemed to know that the content was less important than the talking. And so, every answer Regulus gave was a little less dry, blunt. Had a few more words and descriptions until he seemed sufficiently open again.

It was evidence enough when Regulus grabbed James’ hand as they walked down the steep trail to the beach, eyes kept on the rocky, dirt path that narrowed between wild ferns. James could feel the warmth of it travel up to his face, bloom his smile as they kept on trekking.

When the trail opened up, James could see exactly what Regulus was talking about. Across the water’s surface were a half dozen towering rocks. So large that he could see where gatherings of small forests topped them. And the way the water reflected the stone and sky, made each one seem, indeed, like they weren’t tethered to the ground at all, but instead, hovering.

He didn’t stop staring as they took seats on the sand, knees brushing. They watched as other visitors played in the surf, kids and parents and couples taking pictures of the view. And when he looked over to Regulus, he could tell he was finally able to breathe. A certain ease of his shoulders and placidness of his expression that hadn’t been there since he was asleep in James’ bed.

“Tell me everything I’ve missed,” James asked, leaning back onto the damp sand and looking up at Regulus’ profile outlined against the mix of sky and sea and stone. It suited him. The ocean depths of his eyes, the warmly lit clouds of his skin, the volcanic rock of hair.

“Not much,” he said, nearly reflexively. But there was something layered under it that James couldn’t help but take note of.

“How was Toronto?” he asked, wondering if he could whittle him down to his truths.

“Boring,” Regulus sighed, laying back onto the sand next to him, gaze guided towards the sky. “Idiot paying me had the appetite of a seven year old. Wanted to order chicken fingers for every meal. Kept forgetting I didn’t eat meat. Sustained myself on fries alone for three days.”

“Seriously?” James’ face screwed. “Every meal?”

A smirk turned up at the edge of Regulus’ mouth. “Well, not quite,” he huffed. “I got him to finally eat something else.”

“Reeeeegg,” he whined.

The man laughed, for the first time that day, “What?”

“What did I say about leaving out the lewd details?”

“Hardly lewd. If you really wanted lewd, I could tell you about his-”

“No, you don’t,” James leaned over, covering his mouth with his hand to tamper the noise from his mouth.

Regulus tried to fight it, smile pulling up into his hand as he pushed at James’ chest. He was laughing now, knees drawn up as he tried to kick at James’ legs.

James leveraged his strength, rolling on top of him and grabbing one of his wrists to pin above his head. He felt the way Regulus' body felt under him, becoming all too focused on everything about him. The quieting thrash of his limbs and the curl of his lips against his skin and the playful sparkle of his eyes.

He wanted to remove his hand, replace it with his mouth. He thought about it so long that Regulus had long stopped thrashing by the time he finally pulled his hand away.

Regulus’ eyes hadn’t lost their sparkle, the corners of his mouth still upturned.

It was devastating. So much so that James grabbed the man’s other wrist and pin it too. Letting the sound of the waves bring him back, wash his thoughts clean. He cleared his throat. “Now that I have you here,” he offered. “What happened this past week?”

Regulus’ expression turned cloudy. “What do you mean?”

“You were down. Something was going on.”

“It was nothing,” he shook his head.

James huffed, “You sound like Sirius.”

Regulus stared up at him, expression unreadable. “I had some meetings with my lawyer.”

“Why?” he asked, sliding off of him to sit beside him again.

Regulus wouldn’t meet his eyes, brushing sand off his shirt from where James had been, “It’s a long story.”

“We have time.”

He sighed, looking up at him, “This line of work brings enemies sometimes.”

“Enemies?” James’ brows furrowed, not liking the sound of that.

“People who don’t like what I do,” he continued to explain. “Who think sex work is fucked and I’m a plague to society.”

“And they threaten you?”

“Only legally,” he defended. “They want me caught. They want me prosecuted. Tossed somewhere where they never have to think of me again.”

“That won’t happen,” James said firmly, like a promise.

“Of course, it won’t,” he rolled his eyes. “My clients respect privacy. They don’t talk. The enemies don’t get their witnesses. I stay safe. But it takes vigilance. Effort.”

James swallowed down lingering anxieties, trying to trust. “From you and Dorcas?”

Regulus raised his head, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand to look at him.

He shrugged, “I saw your mail.”

“Yeah,” he settled back down. “Me and Dorcas.”

James sat there a little longer, fidgeting with a shell in the sand. “You know, if you need help, I can-“

“James,” Regulus nearly groaned, putting his arm behind his head. “Can you go a minute without throwing yourself on someone else’s fire?”

He smiled, unable to help himself. “Is it annoying?” he asked, leaning forward to touch at the hip Regulus had exposed, the soft skin there that he would have probably bitten if the beach had been empty.

Regulus smirked. “It’s sweet,” he said, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it off to use behind his head. “Annoyingly so.” He ran his eyes down James’ frame, “Yours off too, darling.”

James could feel the heat in his cheeks as he took off his shirt, not mistaking Regulus’ confident stare and how he could nearly feel it like lips against his skin. He laid back down next to him, hyper-conscious of the brush of their feet and shoulders.

“Reg?” he finally asked, turning to look at him. And the way the sound moved in the space between them made it feel that much closer. “Is it worth it?”

He turned to look, one ocean deep eye screwed open in the sun. “Is what worth it?”

James licked his lips, careful with his next words. “The power? Is it worth the creeps? The enemies?”

Regulus’s expression shadowed, pensive before he spoke. “You know what Sirius said? About wanting something that was his own? Without anyone’s help?”

He nodded, remembering. “It’s like that?”

“Yeah, it’s like that.”

James ached for him, rolling into his side to trace Regulus’ jaw with his knuckles. Run his finger down his perfect profile, landing at his lips and feeling Regulus grab his hand, kiss into the palm softly, putting another at his wrist. He smiled, treasuring every brush of his mouth. “Reg,” he whispered. “Thank you for telling me.”

Regulus smiled tightly, “No secrets, right?”

James nodded. “Right.”

By the time they were ready to leave, Regulus was teasing James about just how dark he’d managed to turn in just a few hours of direct sun. James couldn’t care less, too enraptured by the smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose that had gone tawny in the same way. He was the one to hoist Regulus up onto his back as he hiked their way back to the parking lot.

“Look, look, look,” he whispered into James’ ear as he pointed off into the depths of the mossy forest.

“What? What am I looking at?”

Regulus angled his head, “There. Look.”

James weaved his head between the trees, spotting a small deer moving carefully across the way from them. “How do you always see these things?” he whispered back.

“Cause my eyes aren’t broken,” he tapped his glasses.

James took another step forward, trying to sneak a better peek when his footfall snapped a small branch. The deer snapped its head, spotting them before running off.

Regulus sighed. “You spooked her,” he whined.

“I didn’t mean to,” he laughed, hoisting Regulus a little higher on his back as he kept going. “Maybe if I wasn’t carrying you-”

“Am I that heavy?”

“Absolutely not,” he said, reaching the lot at the top. “I’ve carried children heavier than you.”

“Hm. You might want to be careful, James. I might decide this is my only mode of travel now.”

“I’m okay with that,” he smiled. “I always imagined myself as one of those dads with the baby carrier on the trails?”

“And I’m the baby?” Regulus asked with a monotone sarcasm in his voice.

“Of course,” he laughed, coming up to his car. “I can be your baby too. You can baby me.”

“How so?” Regulus asked, slinking off his back to stand on his own feet again.

James held up the car keys, jingling them towards Regulus, “Here.”

Regulus stared at them. “What?”

“You should drive,” he shrugged.

“Hilarious,” he murmured, stepping towards the passenger side.

“No, come on,” James grabbed his arm with a smile. “I’ll teach you.”

Regulus looked back at him, only now realizing he was serious. He shook his head, “It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is,” James handed him the keys. “Let’s go.”

Once they both got inside, James could feel the nervous energy seeping from Regulus’ pores. He kept his voice calm and steady as he started to instruct him. “Turn it on,” he said, pointing to the ignition. “So put in the keys and turn it.”

“I know how to turn it on,” Regulus scoffed. “It’s the not taking peoples’ lives bit that worries me.”

“Well, we aren’t taking anyone’s life today. Promise,” he assured. “Okay, you’re just going to put it in reverse. So push this up,” he pointed to the gear shift. “And you’re going to let your foot off the brake.”

Regulus did as he was told. Hands bracing the wheel as the car started to roll back. He slammed the brake. “Nope. I don’t like that.”

“It’s supposed to do that,” James smiled. “Come on. Just let it roll. You’re in control.”

Regulus carefully started releasing the brake again, looking over his shoulder at the wide clearance he had to back up. “Why would anyone want to do this?” he muttered under his breath.

“To get to the places they want to go to,” he answered. “Now. Shift it into drive, push down on it.” He watched him do it. “And when you let your foot off the gas, turn your wheel to the left. Like riding a bike.”

“A lethal bike.”

“Bikes are lethal too depending on your target,” he noted, watching him do it. “Good. Now, give it a little gas.”

Regulus carefully tapped the gas, letting the car lurch forward before braking again. “I can’t believe you are making me do this.”

“I’m teaching you,” he laughed. “It’s okay. You are doing great. You’re a natural.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, trying again with slightly more success as he started to crawl out of the lot and towards the main road. His arms were stiff as wooden dowels as he crawled down the small freeway that snaked along the coast. So much so that James had to encourage him to loosen up, go a little closer to the speed limit. Telling him to ignore the cars that were passing him with little patience.

When they stopped for gas twenty minutes later, Regulus roughly took the keys from the ignition and dropped them into James’ lap. “Yeah, thanks and all, but I never want to do that again.”

James laughed, “Fine. It was a valiant effort.” He got out, going to refill the car as Regulus climbed over the console to sit himself back into the passenger seat. James watched him through the open driver’s window, leaning in. “You know, if you move to Seattle, it might be good to learn. Like actually learn.”

Regulus looked at him like he’d misheard. “Who said I’m moving to Seattle?”

James felt the blood rush to his face and neck. Shoulders drawing up tight. “Well, no one. I don’t know,” he choked out, playing it off. “But like if you did. One day. At least, maybe part of the time?”

He stared back at him long and hard, as if trying to read between the lines there. “Is that what you’d want?”

“Of course. I mean, things are going well, aren’t they? With us?”

“Sure.”

“Then,” he shrugged again.

Regulus still seemed unsettled, opening his mouth again, “Do you think about this a lot?”

“About what?”

“Us. Like this. The future.”

James unplugged the car, taking his time to answer. Treading carefully. “I think about it enough,” he nodded, getting back into the car. “Do you?”

Regulus shrugged noncommittally, shaking his head, “I just didn’t know you had a plan.”

“It’s not a plan,” James said, starting back down the highway towards home. “They are just ideas, Reg. They are subject to change.”

“Change? Like what?”

“Well, it's not just my life. You have to want that to.”

“Moving here?”

“All of it,” he urged. “A future, a life with me.”

Regulus went quiet, but his thoughts were loud filling the car as they seemed to spark like firecrackers behind his eyes everytime James looked over at him. “You want kids.”

“I do,” he nodded, passively checking the rearview.

“I don’t know if I do,” he answered, like it was too honest, too blunt. Intended to put James off.

He sighed, feeling at his brow. “You don’t have to know that.”

“But it is important to you. And isn’t that why you divorced Lily?”

“We divorced for a lot of reasons. Kids was just one of them.”

“I’m just saying. I would probably be a shit parent. Between my childhood, my work. I’d probably be awful. And you’d be incredible. So it wouldn’t really make sense for us to-”

“Reg,” he put a hand to the man’s leg, looking over and seeing him pause. “Relax. I’m not looking for any of that right now. I’m just enjoying this. Us. And sure, maybe it is fun to daydream, but I’m not planning anything without you. I’m following your pace, okay?”

Regulus kept his eyes on him, moving his tongue into his cheek like he was working up another defense before it seemed to die. He nodded, “Okay.”

James took his hand, tangling their fingers on Regulus’ leg. Eyes trained on the road that spilled out ahead of them. “But for the record,” he chimed. “I think you’d be an amazing parent.”

If Regulus disagreed, he didn’t say it. Didn’t say anything. Just squeezed James’ hand between his. Nearly like a silent thank you.

It was sunset by the time they got home, takeaway dinner in tow from James’ favorite sushi place in the neighborhood. They ate on the couch to a movie, something cheesy that Regulus had insisted on, and when their leftovers were put away, Regulus had climbed up to use James’ chest as a pillow.

James was smoothing his hand down Regulus’ back, hearing the thrum of his laughter at every stupid bit that had him laughing too. Petting through his soft hair, as the movie faded back into his consciousness until all he could feel was Regulus’ breathing, his heartbeat. So much more thrilling.

When the screen went black, they stayed like that. Soaking in their own togetherness in the dark of the house.

“James,” Regulus whispered, breaking up the quiet.

“Yes?”

“This is how it would be all the time, wouldn’t it?” he asked. “If we did this for real?”

James smiled, fingers smoothing down his hair again. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Would you like that?”

Regulus looked up, meeting his eyes. Half-lidded gaze sinking down to James’ mouth. Close enough for James to feel his breath against his mouth, warm and slow. “Come on,” he said, pulling himself up and walking off towards the bedroom.

James didn’t need to be told twice, forgetting the question entirely as he chased after him. Just past the bedroom door when Regulus was backing him into a free wall and pinning their bodies together. James’s hands habitually went to his hips, drawing him closer as they brushed together. Pulse going wild where Regulus’ hands were snaking up around his neck and drawing him closer.

“You feel so warm, darling,” he purred, hands flat against his tanned neck and shoulders. Rising up onto his toes to take a heady bite at his neck like he was some sort of sun-ripened fruit.

James couldn’t help but cry out, fingers bruising tight on Regulus’ hips as he immediately started working on getting the man’s clothes off. Pushing away his shorts, clawing off his shirt. Wanting to pull him apart.

Regulus complied with a callous laugh in his throat, more patient when he crouched down to nibble at the skin below James’ navel, biting his way up his torso and chest as he pushed his shirt up and off. “You looked so good today. You know that?”

James felt the praise run down his back like boiling water, gasping as Regulus bit into his ear, his cheek. He let his greedy hands run up Regulus’ thighs, curling underneath as he pinned him up against the wall. Wrapped his legs around his middle.

“There,” he breathed. “Now, continue seducing me please.”

“Not like it's hard,” Regulus smirked, rolling his hips up off the wall to grind them into James. He drew the crook of his finger under James’ chin. “My easy little boy.”

James gritted his teeth together. “Shit,” he gasped at the rush of friction where he needed it. “Are you this bad for everyone?”

“No, I’m far worse for them.”

“Really?” he smiled, trying to imagine it. “And how did you learn how to do that?”

“Practice,” he shrugged. “A few good teachers.”

“Huh,” James watched him, eyes trailing down his naked frame. Tongue absentmindedly wearing at the corner of his mouth.

Regulus reached for his chin again, eyes widening with a smile. “What?” he laughed. “What are you thinking about, you twisted fuck?”

James felt a little self-conscious, smile pulling up at one side. “Could you…” he sounded out the words. “Could you teach me?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, “Stop.”

“I’m serious,” James laughed. “I think I could do it. Be mean. In charge. That kind of thing.”

“Just because you do it at work doesn’t mean it works here.”

He felt only slightly egged on by Regulus’ doubt. “Just let me try. If you don’t like it, we can stop.”

It was obvious despite the blankness of his expression that there was a tint of amusement in his eyes. Biting down on the workings of a smile. “Alright, fine,” he finally conceded. “Put me down.”

James lowered him to the ground. “Okay,” he felt a jolt of excitement run through him like electricity. “So, what first?”

Regulus shrugged, leaning his back into the wall with a most incredulous look across his face. “You tell me,” he said. “You’re the boss, right?”

James bit back his embarrassment, taking a deep breath as he took a step back. Sizing Regulus up as he tried his best to imagine how this could play out. “On your knees,” he commanded offhandedly.

Regulus smirked. “You’re going to have to be more descriptive than that.”

James tried to hold his stance steady. “Middle of the floor,” he pointed.

Regulus rolled his eyes, dragging himself to the center of the room and kneeling down carefully against the rug. A general insubordination in his posture.

“Wait here,” James commanded, walking off towards the closet. Once inside, he took his time. Hoping the time would have Regulus building up his anticipation as he dressed himself in one of his nicest custom suits. Crisp white shirt and an all black jacket and pants. He slipped on his most heavy dress shoes. Adjusted his tie and his cuffs in the mirror until he was the spitting image of formal perfection.

When he came out, Regulus was still on his knees, turning away from him. He came forward, standing in front of him.

Regulus eyed him up and down, a white show of teeth in the darkness. “So, someone has a fantasy, I see?” he teased.

James gripped his chin in his hand, raising it high enough to have him straining. “Who said it’s mine?”

There was a slight bob in Regulus’ throat, a shimmer in his eyes that seemed to shift like light.

James went around him, casting his tie off and starting to wrap it around his wrists in an organized order of steps. Cuffing them behind his back.

Regulus looked over his shoulder, “How do you know that knot?”

James kept tying. “Scouts,” he answered, before finishing it off. When he stood in front of Regulus again, it was weird. The way he looked naked and restrained and smaller below him. It was partly distressing, the way something unfamiliar was, but partly intriguing too. He reached for his lapels, rolling the jacket off of his shoulders and tossing it to the bed. Taking note of Regulus’ intent stare as he unbuttoned the shirt cuffs and started rolling them up his forearms.

He crouched down in front of him. Face close without touching. “I know you’re a little brat,” he told him. “You’ve proven that enough.”

“Guilty,” Regulus smiled.

James reached forward, curling Regulus’ hair behind his ear. Sloping his hand down his cheek, letting his thumb rest against his lower lip. Eyeing it dangerously until Regulus bit down hard on it. He gripped his jaw harder. “None of that,” he gritted through his teeth. “You’re going to be nice for me. You’re going to be eager and pliant and good for me. So good for me, okay?”

Regulus’ eyes sparkled momentarily. “Alright then. Soft dom, got it. Whatever you say.”

And now, when James let his thumb trace Regulus’ lip, the man kissed it, licked it softly. Everything in his movements a little gentler. “There you go,” James soothed. “A little deeper.”

Regulus complied, taking his thumb deeper into his mouth like the most delectable treat.

James let him continue like this, standing up and starting to deftly undo his belt with his other hand. Undoing his pants and letting his hard cock fall in front of Regulus’ face. Guiding his mouth closer and ratcheting it wider in his fingers as he started to slide his cock into his mouth.

Regulus looked up at him with reverence. He took his time, followed James’ pace. Letting James’ hand on the back of his head guide him closer, deeper. His mouth so much deeper than James had even realized when he was this relaxed and slow about it. A small groan in the back of Regulus’ throat, right up against his tip, had him gripping a little harder. Sliding out of him just to watch as he stared up at James with his big eyes. Lewdly lapping at the tip. Looking eager to perform, to please before sinking back down onto him when he wanted to be full again.

James hissed, brows drawing together tight and hand tangling deeper in Regulus’s dark locks. Rocking his hips up into his mouth. It was soft and slow, but still deeply ruthless in how well Regulus followed. Wordless communication as the man anticipated what he intended next. Heated breaths fell from James’s mouth as he worked himself between Regulus’ lips. He could feel the drool slip down the man’s chin and onto the floor. Feel the hum in Regulus’ mouth when he started leaking precum against his tongue.

James’s fingers pulled at his hair, pulling him off and angling his face up towards him. “You’re being so good, aren’t you?” he purred. “So good for daddy.”

Regulus’ expression gaped wide open. The black of his eyes blowing wide, eating up the blue. Slipping and falling into his own weakness. He nodded, letting that tug of James’s fingers guide his chin higher.

“Then, preen for me,” James smiled. “On your hands and knees. Can you do that?”

Regulus trembled, sinking deeper and deeper into something wordless that James hadn’t ever seen before. He nodded. Waiting patiently as James untied his hands. Looking up towards James as if pleading for some kind of encouragement.

James stood above him, smirking. The toe of his dress shoe dragging up his thigh and down the length of his hard cock. “So pretty, Regulus,” he praised. “Don’t stop.”

Regulus’ core muscles went tight, twitching at the feeling of leather against his shaft. Elbows guided to the floor as he lifted his ass into the air. A tint of shame in the curl of his spine.

“Wow,” James said, shifting behind him. “You’re even prettier from back here.”

Regulus’ back arched at the praise, a small mewl somewhere in the back of his throat.

James stood watching from a short distance. Hand against his spit slicked cock, languidly stroking himself as he watched Regulus. “Fuck,” he hissed. “You look so good. So patient,” he murmured, coming closer. Getting down on one knee. And then the other. “So inviting.” He let his hands reached out, feeling over the curve of Regulus’s ass.

Regulus’ spine quaked, shoulder blades rolling as far back as they could go in this position.

James leaned forward, breath ghosting over his ass. He placed a kiss on his cheek. Then the other one. He let his hands spread Regulus wide before he ducked down, letting his wet tongue swirl around the tight clench of his hole.

Regulus moaned loud. Unable to contain it.

James’s tongue flicked before his lips covered it, kissing and sucking with all the zeal that Regulus had given his leaking cock. Tongue lapping against him, humming until he knew Regulus could feel the vibrations of his moans against his entrance. Feel the way he was getting progressively wetter, drenched from James’s watering mouth.

Regulus was squirming against his tongue. Ass going higher up, backing into James. Face against the floor and back blooming pink. Hands fisting against the rug, nothing else to hold onto.

“So good,” James murmured, up against his hole. “So, so good for daddy.”

Regulus gave a choked cry. Nearly a sob. He gritted his teeth, baring down as James kept dragging against him.

When James pulled back, he could see the saliva dripping down to Regulus’ balls, his thighs. He let his hands stretch Regulus out. “Fuck. I want to be in there,” he hissed. “Do you want me in there, baby?”

Regulus nodded, empathically.

“Tell me then,” James said, gripping down on his flesh.

“I want you,” Regulus cried out, shuddering. “I want you inside me. I want to be good for you. Just a pretty, tight hole to fuck into. Please, daddy. Please.” He begged, over and over. Growing incoherent.

“Already so pretty,” James laughed, a smile in his voice. “Now, let’s see how tight you are.”

He pulled his hands away, grabbing for lube and dressing Regulus’ entrance with it. Watching the way he shivered at the sensation, but didn’t look, didn’t move. James let his fingertips drag against the man’s entrance, cool and slick and tracing over the same circles his tongue had. But this time, sinking slowly into him. Pushing and pushing just to open him up.

Regulus whined, high and gasping when James’s finger finally pushed deep enough. Shoulders tightening and hips rocking like he wanted more but didn’t know how to voice it anymore.

“You weren’t lying,” James said, finger pressing into his walls, swirling around inside of him. “You are going to feel so good.” He could see Regulus’ cock pretty much throbbing. Hanging heavy and flushed and untouched between his legs. And God, if James just touched him now it would all be over. But he wanted it to last longer. Last forever.

James sunk another finger into him, scissoring them in tandem. All the slickness audible as they moved inside of him. Getting comfortable before he withdrew them, grasping at Regulus’ hips roughly. He let the heavy head of his cock sit poised at his entrance for a long moment, letting the anticipation sink deep before he gave a gentle thrust into him. Going slow. Half like he was being considerate and half like he was just relishing the feeling.

James’s breaths were shaky as he slid further into him. Stilling and sitting there for a moment. Catching his breath before his hips began to rock. Just as gently. Back and forth and back again. Each time going a little deeper, leaving Regulus a little looser.

Regulus shuddered, whining again. Sounding like an angel when he cried.

James leveraged his weight a little heavier into Regulus, hips going flush against the curve of his ass. Groaning as his rhythm got thicker. Further back and further forth, like he was trying to savor every inch of Regulus against him.

The man preened his ass higher, wordlessly asking for more. And James gave in, giving him one thorough slam that made him cry out.

“Even your sounds are pretty,” James huffed.

As if on reflex, Regulus did it again. Cried out, high and mangled.

“Goddamn it,” James said, looping a hand around to cover Regulus’s mouth, leaning forward to hiss in his ear. “Keep doing that and you’ll make me cum too fast.” Regulus nodded against his hand, until he removed it, leaning back up and slamming into him again. James didn’t let up, only increased his pace, his force. The only sounds were the meeting of their skin and the panting from Regulus’ lips.

Regulus’s knees started to bow out, trembling as if he was try to get his cock flush against the floor. Wanting to rut into something until he could finally cum.

James held his hips higher. “No,” he said. “Wait.”

Regulus whimpered, obeying.

James kept going, jolting Regulus’ body with each thrust now and bringing them in quick succession. “Fuck,” he hissed. “That’s good.”

Regulus leaned up higher, offering more of himself for James to go deep into.

James readily took it, slamming into him as his breaths got shorter, his thrusts more erratic. His hand came forward, reaching for Regulus’s face and turning it back towards him. Their eyes meeting as James’s mouth fell open. He quickly pulled out, leaning up as Regulus watched him fist his dick. Cum leaking through his fingers in thick spurts that the man aimed at Regulus’s hole, coating it as he groaned. Both of them tripped up in watching it happen.

James’s shoulders fell, hand pulling off his dick and fingertips reaching out. Swiping through the mess he’d made and swirling it into Regulus’s hole.

And it must have been so sensitive and open from James’s cock that Regulus moaned aloud, knuckles going white against the rug. His forehead falling to the floor as he tried to hang on for as long as he could.

James pulled his fingers away suddenly, not touching him anymore. Watching as Regulus looked back, a panic in his eyes. James could feel the surge of his power over him like the best damn energy boost. His mouth pulling into a smug smirk. “You’ve been so good,” he soothed. “You know that?”

Regulus’s lip quivered, a blink of tears spilled down his face. He nodded.

“I’m going to let you cum,” he said, kissing the skin of his ass. “But you can’t touch yourself, okay?”

Regulus whimpered. He nodded again.

James licked his lips, diving down to lick at Regulus’s hole again. Lick at the remnants of himself there. And the strokes of his tongue weren’t ruthless like his hips or his fingers. No, they were gentle. Curling up against him. Tinkling at every small nerve.

The breaths in Regulus’s chest got shorter. And shorter. And James watched his ribs go tight, then wide. Then everything was tightening. Feeling the cum collecting on his tongue every time he curled it. And all at once, Regulus’ body let go. Shoulders trembling and fists clenching and knees giving way. His mouth falling open, moaning loud enough for neighbors to be concerned. His cock twitched between his legs, spilling out into a puddle on the rug that he kept dragging through.

And James just ate him out through it, making it seem like it would never end.

When Regulus’s body finally relented, he was shaking. Barely on all fours anymore. Ready to collapse.

But James held his hips in the air, keeping him there. “Stay like this for me,” he commanded. “Can you do that?”

Regulus nodded faintly.

James did up the front of his pants as he came around, criss-crossing his legs and sitting down in front of Regulus. “Shh,” he soothed, hands reaching up to hold his face. “So pretty with those big tears in your eyes,” he smiled, wiping at them with his thumbs. “Who put them there?”

Regulus looked weak, arms trembling under his weight, but unwilling to relent. Tilting into James’s touch. “You did,” he whimpered.

“You’re goddamn right,” James huffed. “Come here.” And he dragged him into his lap, let his body weight fall into him. Holding him tight as he placed a dozen soft kisses on his head, his cheeks. Tasting the salt in them. He waited eagerly for Regulus to come down.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Regulus blinked, the navy in his eyes still fighting to overtake the black. “For what?”

“I came first,” he winced.

“Of course, you did,” Regulus shook his head. “I wanted you to.”

James felt his face go warm. “So,” he smiled wide. “How did I do?”

Regulus watched his mouth, mirroring his smile unwillingly. “It was okay,” he shrugged.

James laughed, clutching him tighter. “Are you sure?” he gloated. “Cause you seemed to like it.”

He rolled his eyes, “I mean, whatever. It was… better than expected.”

James watched him, seeing the restraint in his reaction. Knowing it was likely the best praise he would get and being more than at peace with that. He watched as Regulus gave a yawn. “Hey,” he kissed his shoulder. “You’re tired.”

He shook his head, “No, I’m not.”

“It’s like two in the morning in New York,” James pointed out.

“So what?” he tried to say, but another yawn betrayed him.

James couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s go to bed,” he said, drawing both of them to their feet as he kicked off his dress shoes, the rest of his suit. Cleaning Regulus up and grabbing both of them t-shirts and underwear. They cuddled up in bed together, the night around them falling quiet, still. Regulus’ eyes had fluttered closed, nuzzling deeper into James’ side.

“James,” he breathed. “I sleep better with you.”

He could feel the grin threatening to break his face into two. He drew the man closer into him, kissing into his hair. “Then sleep, Reg,” he whispered. “Just sleep.”

Chapter Text

They slept in too late the next morning just to stave off the reality that the sand in their bi-weekly hourglass was nearly depleted. Regulus’ flight was to leave in the early afternoon, so would have to leave in just a couple hours. They didn’t discuss it, not wanting to face it. Instead, they just took coffee in bed, curling into each other as they talked and joked and laughed about nothing important. They kissed, perhaps not on the mouth, but everywhere else. Knuckles and wrists and collarbones and ears. They twisted their fingers together, smiled silently until one of them would laugh again and the other would follow. They whispered despite no threat of eavesdroppers. Making every “I’ll miss you” and “you better” feel like a secret just between them.

And when they stood on the curb at the airport, James wrapped his arms around Regulus, pulling him in with no protest and squeezing tight. Regulus buried his face into his neck, hiding like he didn’t want James to see his eyes. Like he was afraid of looking too sad, too weak. James kissed into his hair. Feeling more and more like these weekends weren’t long enough. That they needed more time, more each other.

James finally pulled back, brushing the hair from the man’s eyes as he tilted his chin up towards him. “Are you working this week?”

“Not sure,” Regulus’ navy eyes were squinted in the sun. Catching varying shades of blue. “We’ll see.”

“Well, if you’re bored,” he sing-songed. “You could always give me a call.”

“You’re busy.”

“Not for you. I always make time for you.”

Regulus smiled, but something sad lingered at the very corners of it.

James couldn’t tell if it was getting easier to read Regulus’ mercurialness or if he was just less concerned with hiding it. Either seemed like a step in the right direction.

“I’m always here,” James reminded him, more seriously. “Whatever you need. I’m just a phone call away.”

Regulus nodded, “Okay.” A car in the lineup honked, pulling Regulus’ attention away momentarily. “I should probably go.”

“Yeah,” James sighed. “Probably.”

Regulus leaned up on his toes, putting a kiss to James’ cheek. “Thanks,” he said simply as he pulled from his arms. “For having me again.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. You’re my favorite guest. My favorite…well, lots of things, actually.”

He huffed a laugh, nose scrunching to exaggerate the freckles that looked darker from their day at the beach, “You’re my favorite lot of things, too, darling.”

James’ could feel his smile widen. He bit into it. “You know, Reg. Maybe next time you come here, you could stay a bit longer. Maybe a week? Two?”

The man tried to suppress his smile. “I’ll think about it,” he nodded. “And until then, I’ll see you in New York, right?”

“Of course,” James promised. “I’ll be there.”

Regulus tried to wave, tried to start leaving, but it was James who grabbed him once more and hugged him even longer. One hand gripped into his hair while the other ran across his sharp shoulder blades through his t-shirt. And though he never wanted to let go, he eventually did. Watching Regulus’ weak smile pull away, his glossy eyes catch the sunlight, before he was on his way.

When James arrived back at the house, dropping his keys near the door and kicking off his shoes, he stood there for a long moment. The house around him felt so empty, so quiet and lifeless. Nothing like it had when Regulus was there. And it was then that James knew that home wasn’t here anymore. Home was on a plane back to New York.

Time without Regulus moved differently. Days bled into each other until it was hard to differentiate between them. James’ routines were reinstated. Gym, work, dinners with friends. But they didn’t feel the same way that they used to. The days had become so habitual that they were hollow, imprecise attempts at human connection that never went deeper than friendly strangers, valued coworkers, old friends. It all felt so shallow in comparison to the depths of intimacy that he and Regulus had, so shallow that it barely scratched any sort of itch anymore.

His discussions with the Malfoys continued as they nailed down the final details of the fast-approaching event. Marlene had become so exhausted by the entire venture that James had all but shut her out of it, giving her other projects to work on. She was hesitant when he told her he could handle the meetings on his own, but she had eventually conceded. James hardly found paying attention to the couple easy though. He found himself drifting in and out daydreams while they met, while Lucius went on about seating arrangements and hors d'oeuvre tastings. James found himself snapping back into the moment when the couple would ask him his opinion, but not having listened, he’d just nod along. Yield to whatever the Malfoys thought was best.

Sirius was still stuck in a loop of self-deprecation. That much was clear when he’d call James in the middle of the day and ask him to play hooky and hang out. Ask him to go to a matinee or help him repaint their bedroom or fix up his motorcycle or bring Peter flowers as he was recovering from his surgery. All these little tasks that he was hyperfocusing on to distract himself from his unemployment. So James put himself at Sirius’ disposal, knowing that he needed the distraction of company just as much as Sirius did.

He and Regulus still spoke every day, just as they’d outlined in their rules. But by now, the texts were few and far between in favor of phone calls. Their conversations stayed light, trivial. Opportunities for much-needed quality time. James would call on his way to the gym, before bed, on his way to see Sirius. Anytime the world got too quiet and he needed Regulus’ voice to break it up.

Regulus’ calls were never so straightforward. He would call because he needed James’ Netflix password, needed a good pasta recipe, needed a travel card recommendation. The more mundane the better. And while at first James had been a bit confused by how utilitarian their exchanges were, he’d quickly begun seeing them for what they were. Excuses to talk without having to admit anything too sentimental. James didn’t mind them so much after that.

It was the second Wednesday and James’ trip to New York was just on the horizon. He was dead asleep in the middle of the quiet night when his phone started to ring on his bedside table. He roused himself, clumsily feeling for it in the dark.

“Hello?” he murmured, hearing the grittiness of his voice echo slightly through the call.

“Hey.”

Even in his groggy state, he couldn’t mistake the voice on the other end of the line. The palpable uneasiness in it. Panic stirred in the depths of his chest. “Regulus,” he breathed, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he started to sit up. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

The man was quiet for a long moment, hesitant and still. And when he finally spoke, the words were choked in his throat, “I had a bad dream.”

James exhaled, eyes falling closed in relief that it wasn’t something far worse. He slowly pulled himself up, leaning back against the headboard.

“You still there?” Regulus asked, weakly.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he reassured. “Tell me about it.”

Regulus’ breath crackled through the phone like a shiver. “You hated me,” he said, voice pitching higher like he had been crying.

James’ shoulders fell, wounded by the very suggestion, “Reg.”

“You didn’t want to speak to me. Look at me. It was awful, James. Awful.”

“It’s okay. It was just a dream.”

“God, it just felt so real.”

“It wasn’t,” James soothed softly into the phone. Wishing he could hold Regulus’ reddened face. Look into his wet eyes. “Because I could never hate you. Couldn’t even try to hate you.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, with such stubborn doubt in his voice. As if he was tempted to fight him on it.

“Positive.”

The quiet stretched out between them and in it, James could hear the intrusive thoughts that were spiraling around Regulus’ brain like loose change in the dryer. He wanted to stop them, but he didn’t know how. He felt so far away, so powerless.

“I’m scared, James,” Regulus finally admitted with labored honesty.

“Why are you scared?”

“I don’t want to fuck this up,” he rasped through a rough throat. “But I’m not so sure I know what I’m doing anymore.”

It cut sharp across James’ chest, leaving him bleeding with empathy. “Neither do I. But that’s okay. We’re going to figure it out.”

“And what if we don’t? Will we even know when to stop? When to admit that it's hopeless?”

James wanted to have all the answers, to have the foresight to settle all of Regulus’ anxieties, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. “You can’t think like that, Reg.”

“Then, what do I think about?”

He sat there, looking out into the darkness of his room. His gaze fell to the side of his bed where he’d subconsciously made space for Regulus. Imagining his shape curled into his sheets beside him. “How did it feel the first morning you woke up next to me in my bed?”

“James,” he whispered, sounding pained.

“Tell me.”

He took a deep, shaky breath before starting to talk. “I could barely sleep that whole night. I thought about leaving. Walking back down the road from your house and calling myself a car.”

“Why?”

“Because. You couldn’t be real. Couldn’t be good for me.”

“That bad, huh?”

“No. That good.”

James felt a rush of heat crest at the top of his spine, blooming some chemical reaction in his brain that he swore he could feel. “Do you still think that?”

Regulus sighed. “Every damn day.”

James felt a soft smile tug at his lips.

“I wish you were here, James.”

He ran a hand over his face, through his hair, feeling the heat radiating off his neck. Driven mad by his own wild affections. “I’ll be there soon,” he pleaded. “Just hold out a little longer.”

They eventually murmured their goodnights and goodbyes. Regulus apologized for waking him, urged him to go back to sleep. But when the call ended, James stayed staring at his phone. Cursing himself for not being there as if it was the very thing giving Regulus nightmares. He looked to the empty side of the bed, aching with want that had expanded past the bounds of his chest. So crippling that he knew there was only one swift solution.

He rose to his feet, flicking on the bedroom lights as he hastily dressed himself in whatever jeans and t-shirt was within reach, crammed the bare essentials into a backpack, told himself that he could buy anything else he needed in New York. And in the dead of night, he walked down the length of his driveway, waiting for a ride share and imagining this could have been Regulus that first night they’d slept together here. And while the thought itself made him feel too much, he knew that something had stopped Regulus that night. Something had kept him laced into James’ side. And James knew that whatever that was, it was the very thing pushing him towards the airport.

By the time James landed, it was mid-morning. The city was just as hot as Regulus had complained about, sticking James’ t-shirt to his back where it met his backpack. He’d forgotten Regulus’ specific address, navigating his taxi to the closest landmark he could remember within walking distance.

He hadn’t slept on the flight, too wired at the very idea of surprising Regulus. Of sweeping him up into his arms. Kissing the lingering salt on his cheeks from last night. Proving to him just how much he cared. It was like a movie scene played on repeat in his head, each time getting closer and more exciting. He found himself nearly skipping the last couple of blocks as the line of brownstones closed in on both sides.

He padded up the stoop of Regulus’ house, gathering himself in one deep breath. He unstuck his t-shirt from his skin, ran a hand through his hair, straightened his glasses, before pushing the doorbell. He heard it echo through the cavernous interior. Butterflies fluttering within his equally cavernous stomach, his smile curling at the corners in anticipation.

But when the door opened, James’ smile instantly fell. The butterflies collapsed lifeless.

Barty stood across from him, leaning out the doorway. His cropped hair was ruffled messy, an emerald green robe was barely staying on his inked shoulders. He had a steaming coffee in his hand. His posture was far too relaxed for someone answering the door of James’ quasi-boyfriend’s house as if it was his own. And why was he in pajamas?

James’ mouth was suddenly bone dry. His fantasies shot dead. A murmur pulled from his chest, sounding lifeless in his ears, “Great, it’s fucking Bambi.”

Barty’s brow raised, “Pardon?”

James bit down on his tongue, feeling just as foolish as he knew he looked. “Nothing,” he shook his head. “Apologies.”

Barty took a sip of his coffee, looking more bothered than anything by James’ presence. “Can I help you?” he asked, tone thick with passive-aggression.

James’ nails dug into his palm. “Yeah, actually, you can,” his chest widened. “I’m looking for Regulus.”

Barty studied him closer, deep brown eyes sinking down the length of his body. Every little movement felt so practiced, nearly performative. “And you are?”

“James Potter,” he said with all the wounded confidence he could muster.

Barty’s eyes brightened, “Oh.” But it wasn’t sweet or warm. It was catty as fuck. “Well then. Regulus stepped out for a minute, but by all means, come on in.” He waved James through the threshold as if he was an old friend.

James cautiously stepped in, looking around at the same house from his fantasies. But it felt entirely different now without Regulus there. As if it wasn’t the same place at all. Barty led James through the house, nearly walking backwards up the staircase without so much as a glance over his shoulder. No, it was as if every single step was laced into his muscle memory. James tried not to track it too hard, but it was difficult not to. Not to let his jealous thoughts run wild around his head. A million screaming voices in his ears, each one needing to know the same thing. What was Barty doing here?

“Can I get you some coffee?” the man asked as soon as they both rounded the corner into the kitchen.

James hadn’t felt his lack of sleep until that moment. “That would be great,” he said blankly.

Barty started up the kettle, leaning up against the counter with his arms crossed loosely over his broad chest, his low hips kicked out. “So,” he pressed a tight smile across his handsome face. “You’re the client then?”

“Not a client anymore,” James shook his head.

“Hm,” he hummed, dismissively. “Hard title to shake.”

“Yet, I’ve managed to do it,” James breathed, falling into step with his pettiness. “And you’re… Barry?”

“I thought I was Bambi,” he corrected without holding any contempt. “Barty,” he held out a hand.

James stared at it, seeing the tattoos poking out from his sleeve. “Right,” he kept their handshake as brief as possible. “He mentioned you, I think.”

“Anything interesting?” he said with a charming tilt of his head.

James’ nose scrunched, “Not really,”

Barty smiled like he knew it was a lie, licking his teeth as he took out a cigarette carton from the pocket of the robe he was wearing.

James clocked the R.A.B. embroidered on the breast in metallic silver thread. He watched as Barty took his time lighting up, blowing a plume of smoke towards the kitchen ceiling. James’ nose burned at the scent, waving it away. “Does he let you smoke in here?”

“More than smoke,” he quipped back, holding his stare.

James swallowed down the instinct to throttle him, knowing it was probably exactly what he was into. But he couldn’t ignore the suggestion in his tone. Hoping it was just an irreverent taunt to spite James.

“You know, Jimmy,” Barty started, taking another drag. “Can I call you Jimmy?”

“No.”

The kettle chimed on the counter, Barty turned away, opening cabinets and drawers with such familiarity, one would have been sure he lived here. “You see, Regulus and I go way, way back,” he gabbed as he prepared James’ coffee, handing over the mug. “And I find it hard to not reflexively be a bit protective over him.”

“Let me guess,” James took the mug, raising it towards his mouth. “Something, something, he’s like a brother to you.”

Barty’s smirk pulled up at one side, eyes glimmering with haughty delight. “You’d know all about brothers, wouldn’t you, Jimmy?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James took a sip of his coffee, scorching his tongue in the process. It took everything to keep the wince off his face, too determined to not show any weakness.

Barty looked at James’ steaming mug like he knew exactly just how much it had hurt him. Smile crescenting his eyes like it was the greatest thrill in the world. “Regulus and I are nothing like brothers.”

It was unmistakably sinister. It had James’ mind rolling away from him at the even heavier dose of suggestion. His gaze flicked down as Barty took another gratuitous drag, eyeing the smooth, tattooed skin slipping from the deep V of the robe. Realizing the man was undoubtedly naked underneath. James had the sudden urge to tear him open as if it would tell him why. As if it would explain what the fuck was going on in this house when he wasn’t here.

“He likes you,” Barty noted, pointing the end of the cigarette at him. “You know that?”

James reset his shoulders. “Yeah, I do.”

“And why do you think that is?” he nearly hissed, making it sound like the universe’s greatest mystery.

Maybe it was, James hadn’t decided yet. “Cause I surprise him.”

Barty laughed, full body, through the depths of his long chest. “Right,” he mocked, rolling his eyes. “Of course.”

James glared, setting the mug down onto the counter beside him. “What’s he like about you?”

“There’s a lot to like,” he shrugged. “Considering I’ve never had to pay for a kiss.”

James felt like he’d walked into a brick wall. Forced to face truths he had tried to forget. But as the words replayed in his head, his expression twisted with confusion, “Did he tell you we’ve kissed?”

Barty’s razor sharp smile widened, slower this time. Blossoming in realization. “You haven’t,” he chuckled. “Oh, wow.”

James instantly gulped, cursing himself for showing his hand.

“Fuck,” Barty gasped, shaking his head as he stepped closer. “Oh, poor Jimmy. That must be killing you.”

James felt himself backpedal into the counter behind him, nowhere else to go. He shook his head, “I’m not in a rush.”

Barty stepped so close that his bony hips were grazing James’. Brown eyes twice as lively at this proximity. “He’s good at it, you know. He’s good at everything. It’s infuriating.”

James’ voice felt a little weaker in his throat, watching the cigarette meet Barty’s lips again. “Yeah. I am seeing that.”

Barty blew the smoke away with a slight turn of his head, putting the rest of the cigarette out in James’ coffee mug. James watched the smoke spin and swirl in the morning light for only a second before he felt Barty’s cool hands snake up his neck. He met his eyes again, noting the levelness of their heights. But where James had athletic muscle filling his frame out, Barty was all long limbs and harsh contours. He was like shattered glass, sparkling bright yet razor-sharp.

Barty’s eyes sunk down the length of James’ face, landing at his mouth. Gaze weighing heavier there. “If you want, I could pass along a message,” he whispered, hovering closer. “Deliver your kiss to Reggie myself.”

James’ thoughts went haywire. His senses overloaded by the smell of coffee and cigarettes circulating around his head. The proximity of Barty’s mouth. The suggestion dripping in his tone. James’ head pounded loud in his ears, trying to make sense of it all.

The sound of the front door cut through the noise. Barty’s brown eyes lightened, smile twisting up. But he kept James pinned, cradled between his hands. As if backing down would be beneath him.

James could hear Regulus’ steps up the stairs. Holding Barty’s stare and getting increasingly furious with how little understanding he had and how it made him feel like nothing but an afterthought.

Regulus pulled James’ gaze away when he appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, stopping in his tracks immediately. “James,” he breathed, expression softening. His eyes darted to Barty, accessing the scene before addressing James again. “What are you doing here?”

“I came early,” James said vacantly, knowing the romance of the gesture was dead. “Thought I would surprise you.”

“Oh, so sweet,” Barty cooed, reaching up to squeeze James’ cheeks together in one hand.

James reflexively grabbed his wrist, yanking it away as his sharp glare snapped to Barty, suddenly fuming. All he was met with was Barty’s flippant smirk stretched wide across his handsome face. Looking highly amused as if provoking James to knock his lights out was nothing but a playful challenge.

“Barty, stop,” Regulus ordered. Sounding like the parent of an insolent child.

It was only then that Barty went a little stiffer, his glinting eyes dulling as he purposefully took a step back from James.

James exhaled hastily, feeling baited and gullible for nearly losing his cool. He finally looked back to Regulus who was still standing in the doorway. His lip twisted between his bite, looking bothered, at odds with himself. That made two of them.

“James,” he breathed, tired and devoid of any emotion. “Go up to my room. I need to talk to Barty alone.”

“Don’t you think you two have had enough time alone?” James countered thoughtlessly, surprising even his own ears.

Regulus’ face stayed still, but there was clouding in his navy eyes. The type that rolled in just before a storm.

James felt a pang of misguided guilt. Having to tell himself that Regulus didn’t deserve anything but his fury right now. He overcorrected, tore away from his place against the counter and bypassed Regulus in the threshold with a forceful knock of his shoulder. He could feel it push Regulus back a step, but in the moment, he couldn’t care. He hastened up the staircase with loud, heavy footsteps.

He faintly heard Regulus behind him. “I told you not to smoke in here,” he sharply murmured to Barty.

It should have perhaps felt karmic, but it didn’t. Once in Regulus’ bedroom, James could immediately see that it wasn’t in the pristine state the man typically kept it. Clothes were strewn across the floor, intermixed styles and sizes that he could immediately distinguish as Barty and Regulus. The bed was not made, the sheets looked messy and crumbled where they had been pulled back. There was a scent in the air that wasn’t entirely Regulus. Something smoky and musky intermixed. It induced immediate nausea.

And more than that, it hurt. More than James could have imagined. Through the wood floors, he could hear the pair talking in the kitchen below. It was muffled enough that he couldn’t make out the words. Just the tone. Quiet and heated. He needed to take a seat, bury his head in his hands. But every surface now felt touched in a way that wasn’t safe. It didn’t feel like an extension of home, but instead like a foreign, eerie place that he wasn’t welcome in.

He stayed pacing the carpet, until there were echoes of noise, banging. A slamming front door. Silence. James briefly wondered if he was alone in the house before a set of slow steps came up the staircase.

Regulus leaned into the room. He looked exhausted, like he might faint on his feet. “Sorry about that,” he kept his gaze drawn away, absentmindedly rubbing at the faint stubble of his cheek.

James was still quietly fuming, but the longer he watched him, the harder it was to remind himself why. “Is he mad?”

“He’ll get over it,” Regulus dismissed as he came inside. He went to sit on the edge of the bed. He slipped off his converse, kicking them into the mess on the floor.

James maneuvered around the clothes carefully. “I know you weren’t expecting me. I just…” he hesitated, standing over him. Feeling like the vulnerable one now. Jaw tensing tight as the words came. “I couldn’t wait. I wanted to see you.”

“I know you did,” he nodded, as if James’ had made an honest mistake.

James had to hold his contempt like a reminder he kept coming back to. Hating the way he could so easily sever Regulus’ connection to Barty. Villainize one while the other remained the benevolent god James would readily fall to his knees for.

“Reg,” he choked, tracking the way the man’s eyes flicked up towards him. They were round and nervous. James had to clear his throat. Trying to be careful with his words. “I knew you were going to keep seeing clients-”

“Mhm,” he hummed, like he knew exactly what was coming next.

“But he’s not a client.”

Regulus’ stare went distant on James’ tight chest. The narrow line of his shoulders slumped together. He looked small, ashamed. “You made it sound like you knew.”

“Convenient for you that you didn’t clarify it.”

He looked hurt all over again. Drawing further into himself.

James sighed. He peeled an ambiguous sheer blouse from an upholstered ottoman before kicking it towards Regulus and taking a seat. Putting them at the same level. The quiet stretching out felt treacherous to navigate. “If you were going to just make out with him in some dark club, that’s one thing,” he told him. “But I didn’t know you were…” he motioned to the mess around them, evidence of the conclusion he’d been forced to draw. “I mean, are you sleeping with him?”

“It’s not a big deal. We are just friends,” he said blankly, focusing on a silver ring on his finger he had started to toy with.

James could feel how practiced the words were, how they had become devoid of meaning. “Maybe you should tell him that.”

Regulus looked up at him, a quiet begging in his eyes like he again knew what was coming next. Like he was pleading for James not to say it.

But he couldn’t help it. It had to be addressed. “He likes you, Reg.”

The man looked immediately offended, a sharp exhale cutting across his teeth as he rolled his eyes, “A lot of people like me.”

“And you’re what?” James glared. “Leading him on?”

“I’m not. I’m just…” he sighed, pushing his hair from his face. “His feelings aren’t my responsibility.”

“Some friend you are.”

“Whose side are you on?”

James met his narrowed eyes. He leaned in, watching the way it flared something nervous just behind Regulus’ gaze. He kept his words precise, articulated, “Why are you sleeping with him, Reg?”

The forwardness was enough to have his stubbornness faltering again. Crumbling in his expression. “I told you,” he bit out through clenched teeth.

“That you’re friends. That you’re just blowing off steam. Sure, whatever,” James scoffed. “But things are different now, aren’t they? With me?”

Regulus’ chest looked heavier with each breath. Looking torn between fury or tears. Equally volatile forces at play just millimeters below the surface.

James didn’t want to torment him, nor resent him. In fact, James hated himself for even caring. He took a deep breath, trying to relax the bite of jealousy. “Look,” he murmured, reaching out to touch Regulus’ knee. It was slow, experimental, running the backs of his knuckles along his black denim. Trying not to think wistfully about how this surprise should have gone. “If there’s something you need from me. If he is doing something I’m not-”

“No,” he shook his head. “That’s not it.”

James settled his palm onto his leg, thumb brushing up his thigh. “Then, what is it?” he whispered, intent on knowing.

Regulus’ face twitched to the side. He gathered himself to his feet, brushing past James as he started to move about the room.

“What are you doing?” James asked, watching him.

Regulus started pulling the sheets off the bed, “It fucking stinks in here.”

“Hey,” he reached for his wrist. “Don’t just-”

“Stop,” Regulus twisted out of his grip. “We’ll talk, okay? Just let me do this.”

James backed off, taking another deep breath as he started to help him pick up. Right the room to the way it was. When the clothes were picked up and the dirty sheets were collected, Regulus carried them out of the room and down the stairs. James started to follow him, “So, like later or-”

“Just go down to the living room,” he barely turned over his shoulder. “I’ll meet you there.”

James complied, taking the next set of stairs down to where he knew the living room was. It was a room he’d barely spent any time in. Often too busy in the bedroom or the kitchen when he visited Regulus’ home. But upon entering it, he noticed that it barely felt used either. It was a continuation of the same style, but slightly more dated. As if Regulus had barely changed it when the deed turned over to him. There was a baby grand piano sat in the corner like it hadn’t been moved for a couple hundred years, a large, central fireplace gathering dust. James’ eyes went to the walls. An intricate floral wallpaper that had to be nearly original to the house. Black with twisting vines that had yellowed overtime. There were more beautiful art works, similar to the ones that hung in the foyer. But there were photos too.

James stepped up, taking a closer look. Some of the photos were studio shots, the two parents seated with their stiff posture and vacant expressions. There were a few of Regulus too. Younger, lankier. In dashing suits with his hair neatly coiffed. Nothing like the messy curls and oversized clothes he wore now.

James could distantly hear Regulus come down the stairs. Hear as he went to the kitchen, knocking glasses together as he messed with something. His eyes moved to some of the other photos. Vacation shots that had been taken at lakesides or on ski slopes. A tiny Regulus behind the wheel of a boat, peeking out from under the brim of a captain’s hat.

“Don’t look at those,” the man snapped from across the room.

James looked back, watching Regulus maneuver around the sofa with a bottle full of something clear. Knowing it likely wasn’t water. “Why shouldn’t I?” he asked, looking back to the photos.

“Because. You don’t need to put faces to names.”

James might have agreed, but something caught his eye. “What happened here?” he said, finger raising up to hover over a charred spot in a photograph. Regulus’ thin arm looped around someone’s neck, but their face was missing entirely.

“Come sit down,” Regulus commanded.

James was slow to pull his eyes away, joining him on the couch. “I don’t get a drink?”

He shook his head, taking a generous sip, “You don’t need one to do this.”

“To do what?”

Regulus took a deep breath, dark lashes fluttering. “I want to apologize,” he said. It sounded stiff in his mouth, nearly painful.

“For?” James tried not to feel like an even bigger confession was on the other side.

“I wasn’t clear with you. About Barty,” he admitted. “Purposefully so.”

He had assumed that Regulus had been intentionally vague, but it felt different to hear him confess to it. “Well, how noble for you to apologize after you’ve been caught.”

“I never claimed to be noble.”

“Another lapse in clarity.” James motioned to the bottle in his hand, “Go on then. Drink up. Talk circles around me. Get your way.”

Regulus’ eyes flicked up to him in a deadly glare. But it flickered out quickly, replaced with something more self-conscious. He took another swig, swiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb. “I don’t know where to start,” he said, defeated.

James sat silent, racking his brain for every Barty-related question it held. By now, there were far too many to count. “How did you meet?”

“He worked at the ballet company.”

“He was a dancer?” James raised a brow, thoughts drifting back to when he’d seen them at the club. The practiced, graceful way in which the two had moved together.

“No, he was our pianist during rehearsals,” Regulus said, curling himself into the couch as he cradled the bottle in his lap. “It was his day job.”

“And his night job?”

“I’m sure you can work that out,” he shrugged, continuing to drink as if it was actively loosening the story from his lips. “He was this charismatic artist type. Cigarette burns in his clothes, dexterous fingers on the keys, hiding something behind razor sharp wit. And while he was a deathly flirt, the dancers could never quite seduce him. He was always just out of their reach. Too good for any of them,” he explained. “But he would listen to us vent, keep our secrets, give us advice. He knew just how to unwind people, lower their guards. And I’d never met someone like that.”

James could hear the sense of wonder in Regulus’ voice as he remembered. It curdled something nasty in him. “So you…” he struggled. “So you did love him. At some point.”

“No,” Regulus didn’t hesitate. “But I respected him. Admired him even. And those aren’t things easily earned from me.”

James was keenly aware. “Did you all know what he did? At night?”

Regulus shook his head, “His life outside of the company was a mystery. One he seemed keen to keep to himself. Would use the louder parts of his personality to distract, misdirect. Only show people what he wanted them to see.” The corner of his mouth twitched upward, “But then, I was out to dinner with my parents one night and I went to the bathroom. You can imagine my shock when my typically scruffy looking pianist was washing up in custom Armani at the sink. He tried to be smooth about it, but-”

“You pieced it together.”

Regulus’ smile was small, smug. “I was sworn to secrecy amongst the other dancers. He very clearly did not want to discuss it, didn’t want it getting out. But I would stay late after class, talk to him, and, with some persistence, he started opening up to me. Telling me about these encounters he was having. And we would sit at the piano and laugh at how utterly ridiculous these clients were. How easy it was to reduce them to nothing but their wallets. I mean, he was outsmarting the very tycoons I had been raised to idolize. To have someone who saw wealth for the spectacle it was? It was… liberating.”

James could see it in his face, brightness in his eyes. That same allure still there after all this time. “So, when did things between you two become…”

He looked up at James, raising a brow, “Physical?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. He nodded.

Regulus’ smile slipped. He took another drink, rolling the bottle in his hand in dead silence for what felt like ages. “My parents dying changed everything. I stepped away from the company. I isolated myself. Pandora tried to get through to me, but she was part of this world,” he motioned to the grandeur of the room around him. “And my problems, unlike hers, couldn’t be solved with nihilism and blow,” he sighed. “But Barty came looking for me. And when he found me, he wasn’t like everyone else who held themselves to all these impossibly fucking high standards of unbotheredness. He stayed here for months, taking care of me, making the house not feel so overwhelmingly quiet. Letting me mourn, hurt. Without judgment.”

“Because he was in love with you,” James murmured.

Regulus winced, caught deep in a vortex of his own thoughts before he seemed to pull himself out. “I was the one to initiate it the first time,” he confessed. “Because I just needed some way to take back control, to feel powerful. And he got that, so he let me dominate him.” His lip quivered, emotion gathering in his expression. “I probably should have seen it for what it was. Because he never let anyone do that to him. I should have known it meant more to him. But I was too drunk on the feeling, I couldn’t see past how good it felt to be in that position.”

James sat there, processing. Knowing that Regulus had spoken of this before, the nuanced motivation behind his sexual escapdes. But never had they been so startlingly clear just how much it soothed his emotional wellbeing. How it had started from a place of hurt and grown into something so much more than that. “He was your first client,” he realized out loud.

“In a way,” Regulus shrugged it off. “But after that, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted more. To start working. Build a clientele. It felt like the only forward momentum after months of being anchored.”

“How did he feel about that?”

A sad laugh escaped his lips, “He hated it. Tried to argue for weeks about it. But I knew what I wanted. So, I got my way.”

“And you’re still getting your way. You’re using him.”

“No,” he shook his head, sounding sure of himself. “We’re using each other. For different things.”

James could see what he meant, but it didn’t feel right. Didn’t sit well with him. “Last night, you asked me. ‘Will we even know when to stop?’ Is that because you never learned how to stop things with Barty?”

Regulus tutted his tongue against his teeth, “Don’t compare.”

James glared at his irreverence. “Do you want to stop things with him?”

“It’s not that simple,” he murmured, taking another swig.

“Why not?”

Regulus just rolled his eyes, getting up from the couch and heading towards the kitchen.

“Hey,” James rushed to follow, reaching for his shoulder. “Stop walking away from me-”

“No,” he bit out, not looking back as he pulled away from his touch. “I’m done. You wanted secrets? I gave you plenty.”

“That’s not how this works,” James groaned. “Talk to me! Tell me why you’re doing this.”

He huffed callously under his breath, shoulders tightening as he walked away, “I told you. It’s nothing. So just fucking drop it.”

“Bullshit!” James raged, chasing him into the kitchen. “You don’t love him, Reg!”

He slammed the bottle down on the counter. “You’re right! I don’t!” he roared. “But who else can follow along when I fly off the handle like a fucking basketcase? Who else can be there when I’ve exhausted everything people like about me? When anything remotely loveable peels away to the most weak and pathetic parts. Who will still want me then?”

James could feel his face go hot, fury roaring back twice as wild as before. “Me!” he screamed, eyes going wide. Breaths running wild in his chest. “God, do you even hear yourself? Do you even realize what you are saying? It’s like you don’t see me at all! Don’t care about me at all!”

Regulus briefly closed his eyes in frustration, teeth gritting through his words as they fervidly tumbled out, “No, no, see, that's the problem. I do. I do really fucking care about you, James. I feel like a door off its hinges when I’m with you. I feel crazy and stupid and so ridiculously obsessed with you.” He barely took a breath, the emotion in his expression bleeding like an open wound, “And-and you just give me everything like it is as natural as breathing and it’s just insane, it’s incredible. But I can’t do that. I can’t give anyone everything.”

“Why not?” James fought.

“Because,” he started choking up, words growing thick in his throat. “Who's to say they won’t abuse me? Like my family? Or forget about me like my company? Or-or leave me? Leave me like my brother?”

James felt everything go quiet. His rage, his frustration. All of it dropped to nothing. Watching as Regulus’ eyes had become red and wet, his posture weak, his breaths strangled. Realizing all at once just how deep this went, how all of it was connected. Mapped out like constellations that were too out of reach to shift. And in that very moment, James had never felt smaller, more powerless.

“So yeah, sure, Barty can have my body,” Regulus sniffed, waving James away. “He can have my tears and my secrets and every shitty little neurosis. He can have my goddamn kisses too. Whatever the hell they are meant to represent anymore. But only because I know he’ll never have my heart.”

James watched him, stunned by the uncharasteric burst of emotion. Hating the question on the tip of his tongue. How insignificant it felt in comparison to all that came before it. “And what about me, Reg?”

Regulus looked back at him, broken more open than he’d ever seen. “My heart has been yours since you were nothing but a voice in my ear,” he confessed. “But giving you everything, James? I just…” he shook his head. “I don’t think I can do that.”

The world went darker. James’ feet felt cemented to the kitchen tile. “Ever?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head again, slumping down onto the kitchen tile. “I just… I don’t know.”

James stood there, so deeply steeped in confusion. Pulled in two by the contrasting sentiments. “Regulus,” he murmured. “What do I do? How do I-”

“Don’t ask that, James,” he rubbed roughly at his eyes.

His mouth fell open, “Ask what?”

“Don’t ask how you fix it.”

James resealed his mouth, feeling paper thin. Like Regulus could see straight through him. He stepped closer, squatting down to sit himself in front of him. Staring up at his reddening face, his closed off posture, the discernable tremble of his shoulders. It broke his heart to see him hurting, hating it even more when he remembered that Regulus didn’t want James to see this.

“Hey,” he whispered, reaching for Regulus’ wrists to pull them away. “Look at me.”

Regulus shook his head, choking up all over again, “I can’t.”

“Please,” he pleaded, letting his hands smooth up the man’s jaw, his neck. Pulling him closer until their eyes were meeting.

Regulus finally stared up at him, timid and skittish like he’d slip right out of his touch any moment now.

James held him firmly. “I’m in love with you.”

Regulus’ expression pulled into a wince. “Yeah,” he swallowed weakly. “Yeah, I know.”

James shook his head. “Don’t make it sound like such an inconvenience.”

The man went silent, lips sealing tight. Unwilling to say that it likely was.

James took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of conviction. “Reg. I’m never going to abuse you. Nor could I ever dream of forgetting you.”

Regulus’ eyes were round, wide. Growing more glossy, unblinking.

“And now, more than ever,” James whispered, raising Regulus’ hand to gently kiss at his knuckles. Murmuring into them. “I know that I never want to leave you.”

His expression wavered, insecurity still lingering just out of reach. “What if you had to?” he asked through a rough throat. “What if choosing me meant risking everything?”

James’ brows knit together, “What is this you keep circling back to? What are you so afraid of?”

There was a gulp in Regulus’ throat. That fear lingering silently without any hope of easing. Long enough that it was clear he had no articulable response.

James sighed, folding their fingers together habitually. “Do you want me here? Do you want me to stay?”

Regulus teared up again. He nodded.

“Why?”

His lip quivered, tears spilling onto his cheeks. “When you go, you take the sun with you. When you go, I have to try and remember how I felt around in the dark without you for so long. And it’s getting harder to remember, James. Every single time, it’s getting harder.”

James could hear the vulnerability in his words, see it painted across his face. He felt it stitch at his heart, weaving the broken fragments back together. “You don’t have to remember anymore,” he soothed. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned forward, kissing at his temple. Feeling Regulus lean into him. “Do you believe me?” he asked, lips pressed into his hair.

“Yeah,” he conceded, making it sound like a fatal error. “I think I do.”

James wrapped arms around Regulus, pulling him close. He felt the race of his heart go steady at just the man’s smell. Despite the fervency of his words, James was scared too. He was scared that the obstacles in their way would only get bigger, more complicated. He was scared of finding out that his patience wasn’t limitless. That he might eventually reach a breaking point. But he couldn’t voice those thoughts, knowing they would likely seal Regulus shut again. So he kept them to himself, choosing instead to focus on just how far they’d come. How every week that passed offered a little more honesty, a little more vulnerability. Not leaps and bounds, but baby steps. And James had to keep celebrating that.

“Come on,” he whispered, rising to his feet and dragging Regulus with him. He loaded him onto his back, feeling the warm weight of his listless body hanging on him. He took him up to his bedroom, depositing him on the bare mattress. Noting how Barty’s smell had cleared out, leaving only pure Regulus now.

James crawled up towards him, laying beside him as their stares met. Pregnant silence filled the space between them. Not asking to be filled with anything.

Regulus took a deep breath, “Would you kiss me right now if I asked?”

James’ gaze flicked down to his mouth. Wondering momentarily if kissing could pass for talking. If James could coax every secret from Regulus’ lips with his tongue. And likewise, Regulus could get every small validation he needed from James’. Maybe it was the solution to all of their problems.

“No,” James answered, sobering immediately.

The man’s eyes went rounder, scared. “Why not?”

He second-guessed himself. Third-guessed. Fourth- “Because I don’t want it to serve as a balm for a fight,” he answered honestly. “When I kiss you, finally kiss you,” he dared to imagine it. “I want it to mean so much more.”

A gloss returned to Regulus’ eyes, different now. He carefully sat himself up on the mattress. Chest rising and falling a little quicker than before. His fingers moved at a glacial pace as they went to the hem of his shirt. Gripping onto the fabric and slowly pulling it up his frame.

James watched as the plane of radiant skin grew wider and wider, taut against his ribs. And he wanted nothing more than to run his hands up his body, trace every line, every shadow, everything. But he hesitated, sensing the shift in tone and not yet knowing what it meant.

Regulus pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. James went to mirror it, hands at the hem of his own shirt before Regulus touched him softly. “I can do it,” he offered.

James held back his reaction, removing his hands and letting Regulus’s graceful fingers maneuver it up his frame and over his head before he lay back down. Watching the intent focus in Regulus’ eyes as he studied his bare chest.

Regulus’ eyes flicked up to his. “Can I touch you?”

James licked his lips. “Yeah.”

Regulus’ fingertips went to James’ torso, smoothing over the skin. Over his shoulders and biceps. To his firm chest that caved to his touch, the pulse beneath alive and quivering. Resting his hand on the center of James’ chest as he poised over him.

James studied him from his close, tucking a curl behind his ear to better see his face. He noticed the tremble of his chin, the way it cascaded into his shoulders, his hands. “Regulus,” he whispered. “Are you okay? You’re shaking.”

The faint trembling didn’t stop. “It’s just a lot,” he managed to say.

James put a hand to his face, thumbing at his cheekbone, “What’s a lot?”

The man’s expression twisted tight, dark lashes fluttering like he might cry again. “What I feel for you.”

James went warm, soft smile spreading as he took his time laying Regulus down against the mattress. He lingered over him, drawing Regulus’ face close. He put his lips to his jaw, his cheeks, his eyes, tenderly kissing him torturously slow. He felt Regulus’ breaths go heavier against his collarbones, shuddering gently at the sensation.

James’ hand trailed down the man’s chest, further and further down. Remembering the path down past his navel, to the point directly between his hips. The skin there was so soft and warm that James couldn’t help but run his knuckles over it. He gripped his fingers into the jeans, thumbing against the button.

Regulus drew a sharp breath in before his throat gave out, whining weakly.

James smirked. “Hm?” he hummed, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Something you want to say?”

Regulus smiled, the perfect white bite of his teeth reflecting back in the soft bedroom light. A blush creeping up his ears and cheeks, dusting them pink. His navy eyes sparkling so bright that James felt like he was staring into a star-kissed night sky, wishing on each and every star for more of this feeling. Because no one compared and nothing mattered in these moments except how breathtakingly beautiful Regulus was.

“Come here,” James reached for his hips, his thighs and hoisted him into his lap. His hands carved up his body again, holding his face and drawing him in to kiss at his neck, the sensitive spot under his jaw.

Regulus’s mouth opened, a softened moan laced in his exhale. His hands went to James’ hair, gripping tight as his hips started to grind down into him.

James groaned, biting down on Regulus’ neck. His hand smoothed down his torso, knuckles dragging against the bulge in the man’s jeans.

Regulus gave another soft moan, eyes clenched tight like he was struggling to ground himself.

James fingers went to the fly of Regulus’s jeans, working the button open. Tugging the zipper down. Hearing those teeth come apart just as they both were. He laced his hands under Regulus’s thighs again, picking him up and crawling up the bed. Laying him down gently against the pillows.

James hovered over him, looking into his eyes. Seeing all the mutual anticipation there. The gentleness, the fondness. Sparkling bright. He ducked down, attentively kissing his chest. His hands went to the waist of Regulus’ jeans, taking them off inch by inch. Stripping him down to nothing with no haste in his movements, only care.

When Regulus was bare skinned below him, James ghosted his fingers up his thighs, brushing past his flushed cock and feeling it throb in anticipation. Feeling the man’s hips tilt upward, eager for his touch. James’ fingertips danced across his skin, eliciting goosebumps before they finally clenched at the firm cock.

Regulus’s eyebrows drew together at the feeling, holding his breath as he watched himself start to slip through James’ fist.

James leaned over, fishing for the lube in the bedside drawer before returning between Regulus’ legs. He flattened out against the bed on his elbows, slicking his fingers and bringing them forward to trace Regulus’s entrance.

The man shuddered through his exhale.

James licked his lips before trailing open-mouthed kisses up Regulus’s cock. Tongue lapping at the precum leaking out onto his taut stomach. He guided Regulus into his mouth, sliding down around him. Simultaneously, pushing a finger into him.

The groan collapsing Regulus’ chest sounded like relief.

James closed his mouth around him again, carefully working his mouth and his hand, sliding another finger in when he started to loosen. Curling them inside until he could feel him trembling for a different reason entirely.

“Fuck, James,” Regulus whined.

James had missed his name in Regulus’ mouth. Not caring about whoever else’s had been there, because it didn’t compare to them. He pulled off of him, withdrawing his fingers. He sat up, making a show of stripping off the rest of his clothes. He took the lube, spreading it on himself. Mindful of Regulus’ heavy-lidded stare.

The man sat forward. His dreamy and obscure face catching the gray light. His hand came up, fingers folding underneath James’s chin. Thumb dragging his wet lips. He parted his mouth with his thumb, smiling. “James,” he said. Voice so warm and deep in his ears. “Be soft with me. No one is soft with me like you.”

James smiled against his thumb, grating his teeth against it gingerly as he reached for his hips. He slotted between them, pushing in. Feeling the tightness of his walls that fit him best. He drew his hips back like an ocean drawing in on itself, before angling into him again.

Regulus moaned, body loosening and falling even more open underneath him.

James made every stroke deliberate. Feeling his whole body ache and buzz like static electricity. Desperate to go faster, harder, but withholding. He watched Regulus’s face, mesmerized. He was so fucking beautiful and never quite as uncomposed as when he was getting fucked. Without the mask of sharp wit, of conscious deadpan, he was so much more expressive. Eyebrows crinkled and mouth open and eyes vivid. He was full color.

“Come here,” James breathed, hands going to Regulus’s sides and pulling him up into his lap.

Regulus’s hands went to his neck, drawing him in and kissing the hollow behind his ear. Teeth grazing his ear lobe. He groaned so close that it went straight down James’ spine.

James’s senses were becoming flooded, overwhelmed. He reached down, hand closing up around Regulus’s cock. Working him as he rutted up into him.

“James,” Regulus whimpered, voice getting higher. “Fuck.”

He pulled his face away, watching the way Regulus’s eyebrows drew together. His mouth fell open. The black of his eyes swallowed down those stars. And he was coming in James’s arms, the skin pulled tight over every twitching muscle as he worked through it.

And James was so transfixed on every little detail that he was caught off guard when he felt his body tense up too. Coming inside him. Looking into his eyes. Swallowed up just like those stars.

They stayed like that for a moment, breathing and staring. And James felt more tempted than ever to lean in and kiss him, but his own words rang in his ears. Telling himself there would be a better time, a better reason than amazing makeup sex.

James laid Regulus down, collapsing beside him. Their chests falling, their eyes fixed, small smiles twisting into the corners of their mouths.

Regulus leaned in, burying his face into James’ chest. He started talking, speech muffled against the skin.

James laughed. “Hey,” he reached for his face. “I can’t hear you.”

“Good. I don’t want you to.”

“Come on, baby,” he drew him closer. “Tell me.”

Regulus’ teeth gritted together behind his smile. “I just… I…” he tried, struggling. A war waged between his head and his tongue. “Thank you,” he finally blurted.

James tilted his head, “For what?”

Regulus bit into his lower lip. “Bringing the sun back.”

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.

Chapter Text

James was rushing to silence his alarm as soon as it started going off the next morning, thankful when he looked over to see Regulus still sleeping soundly at his side. He unpeeled himself from the tangle of their bodies, letting the man’s lithe limbs fall back to the bed where he nuzzled his face deeper into his pillow with a soft groan. James smiled, content on watching him for just a moment longer before he started to get ready for his day. He showered the sticky nightclub feeling off, putting on something casual as he made sure all the components of his new suit were properly tucked into their garment bag. He had a running checklist in his mind that he knew wouldn’t stop firing off until the event came to a close that evening. Evidently, it had Marlene’s voice.

When James felt contently prepared, he went back to the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and letting his fingertips score into Regulus’ curls. He wore them gently against his scalp until the man’s expression began to soften, lids fluttering open to look at him.

“No need to wake,” James murmured. “I’m just heading out to set up.”

He blinked, squinting from the sunlight in the windows, “Set up?”

“The event?” he reminded him with a grin.

“Right. That,” he breathed, eyes closing as his head fell lifelessly to the pillow again.

James traced the shell of Regulus’ ear. The liquid confidence of last night had worn off, leaving the question weaker in his mouth this time. “Will I see you there?”

Regulus looked up at him again, studying him. “You’ll see me later regardless.”

“You know what I mean.”

He kept his smile half-hidden in the pillow. “Will you be mad if I don’t?”

“No.”

“But if I do?” his eyes seemed to taunt.

James’ fingers danced in the smaller curls at his nape. “It would mean a lot,” he suggested, meaning multiple things. Because yes, it would mean a lot to James personally, but it would even more for them. For their relationship. To be seen together, associated together. Like that. That word he’d freely used last night but was too shy to say now.

“Mm,” Regulus hummed. “Maybe it would mean too much.”

James’ cheeks went warmer. Embarrassed for wanting things. “You don’t have to come,” he reiterated with some guilt for perhaps being too heavy handed last night.

“But you want me to.”

“Of course I do,” he nodded. “But it’s what you want too.”

Regulus kept staring, pensive but oscillating between serious and carefree in a way that had James lost on his true intentions. Having to consider that maybe Regulus hadn’t yet made up his mind.

“I love you,” James reminded him, ducking down to kiss between his brows and murmur into his deepest thoughts. “So much.”

Regulus had seemingly nothing to say to that. Mouth twisted together when James pulled away as if he was withholding something.

“Go back to sleep,” James encouraged, walking off. Taking a moment at the door to look back and catching Regulus staring. It made him smile. Committing it to memory like a sight he didn’t want to ever forget.

Of course, it was Marlene and James who had shown up hours before the event started to coordinate the delivery of all the party rentals that the Malfoys had scheduled. Marlene’s blonde hair was pulled into a bun, her thick brows drawn together in a particularly prickly mood as she barked orders so fiercely that even James knew to listen.

“Those are too narrow,” she called towards the men setting up an intricate lighting rig. “It should be in line with the columns. Guests need to be able to navigate around it.”

They started to fix it as James filled a glass of water and passed it to her. “Do you need a snack or something?”

“Why?” she glared at him.

“No reason. I just want to make sure you get something-”

“I’m fine. I have a question about the agenda,” she snapped, pulling her clipboard up to her face. Her voice rambling so fast that she seemed to be at double speed. “Here, it says that opening remarks are at seven. But guests are arriving starting at six-thirty and considering traffic and that most of these people are taking taxis, I don’t think it would be wise to start until-”

“McKinnon,” James put a hand to the top of the clipboard, lowering it to meet her gaze. “We can play it by ear. There is wiggle room built in.”

She sighed, unsatisfied but conceding. “Did Lucius give you a copy of his speech?”

James blinked, “Should he have?”

“Yes,” she widened her eyes. “How do we know he’s not going to get up there and spout off some conservative bullshit about how the youths we serve are on the streets because of drugs and welfare checks instead of systemic racism and cycles of poverty and-”

“McKinnon,” he groaned. “I’ll personally see to it that nothing like that happens.”

“But you haven’t yet.”

“But I will,” he commanded with finality. “You just focus on deep breaths, drinking water, and eating something.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’ll be so glad when this night is over.”

“So, will I.”

“Potter. Mckinnon.”

James spun around, watching the Malfoys walk in. They were already wearing their finest dress. Lucius was in a traditional suit with an emerald green pocket square poking out, while Narcissa was on his arm in a silver beaded gown with fringed sleeves that rattled with each step.

The couple held raised brows as they eyed the two up and down.

James looked to Marlene and him in their casual clothes. “We brought our proper attire,” he rushed to say. “Just didn’t want to dirty them as we worked.”

“Of course,” Lucius said, looking at his watch. “How is the set up? We only have an hour left before guests start arriving.”

“It’s great, right?” James looked at Marlene pointedly as she just winced at him. “Everything is right on schedule.”

“Well, then, perhaps you two should step away and get ready,” Narcissa smiled tightly. “It’s so important to make a good first impression, don’t you think?”

“Hopefully last impression,” Marlene mumbled.

James inhaled deeply, throwing an arm around Marlene’s shoulder. “Yes, I think that is a great idea. Let’s step away and leave this to the professionals, hm, McKinnon?” He tried to pry the clipboard from her hands, feeling the tension of stiffened fingers before it was finally yanked away.

“Indeed,” Lucius took it, passing it off immediately to some worker who had appeared at his side. “Off with you.”

Guests did start arriving right on time, slowly filling the room and mingling as James watched from a safe vantage point with his assistant. She had her dossier ready with research she’d done on the guestlist, checking people off as she spotted them.

“Oh, them,” she called close to him. Trying not to point, but motioning vaguely. “The man in the navy suit, with the woman in burgundy. He’s a famous journalist. She’s wife number three and a half.”

“Half?” James asked.

“Long story,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s big in public broadcasting locally though. So if you get a chance to talk to him, mention his series on the World War II refugee crisis. Connect it back to the mission, okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he sighed. “Got it.”

She looked at the dainty silver watch on her wrist, groaning under her breath, “And opening remarks should have started five minutes ago.”

“We still have some stragglers making it in,” he noted. “Look. Table five is missing at least four people.”

“They are probably just getting their first of many drinks,” she shook her head. “I’m going to go find out what is happening.”

“Fine, just don’t-”

“Who’s that?”

James looked at her, seeing the wide eyed expression in her face. He followed her gaze, trying to scour the mass of well-dressed people congregating around the tables. “Who?” he asked.

“That,” she said, sounding stunned as she started flipping through her notes. “I don’t have anyone that fits-”

James’ eyes found the subject and Marlene’s chatter faded into the background. He watched as the crowd seemed to part. And standing amongst them was him. Regulus. He was wearing a suit that wasn’t like anything James had ever seen before. The black, loose fit trousers were tame enough, even sitting dangerously low on the man’s hips, but the blazer was anything but tame. Cropped at the chest and fading into a near corset of wide fishnet that made it apparent to any onlooker that there was no illusion of shirt underneath. Instead, it was a wide expanse of perfect skin, a high cut at the hip bones. It was devastatingly vuglar and handsomely elegant all at once. It was him. So damn him.

“That’s my…” James couldn’t peel his eyes away. Struggling to speak something so unfamiliar, but there was so much pride and certainty that was fighting to come through. Because Regulus wasn’t just the most beautiful person in the room, but the most beautiful person to ever exist. “My…”

“Your date?” Marlene finished, sounding shocked. “Did you bring a date, James Potter?”

James put a hand to her shoulder, still not able to look away, “Could you excuse me?” And if Marlene said anything after that, he couldn’t hear it. Not as the room fell quiet and he started snaking through the crowd, sights set on Regulus at the center of the room.

He was talking to someone. An older gentleman with a kind face and a tweed suit. They were smiling as they spoke like old friends. Regulus’ eyes finally raised to meet James’, smile brightening wide. He had a smudge of dark kohl liner around his eyes, a smear of silver glitter at the corners that glistened like the most lovely tears. It was beautiful, oh so beautiful. “There you are, darling,” he chuckled, reaching out to grab him and pull him into the conversation. “Here, let me introduce you to Dr. Meadows.”

James felt the pull of his hand on his arm, then his side. His several silver rings pressed tightly into him. It was wild, thrilling in a way he couldn’t describe. He looked to the gentleman standing across from them. “Hello,” he breathed, rather astounded still as he tried to come down to reality.

“You can call me Oliver,” the man smiled, putting out his hand.

He shook it with a nod, “James Potter.”

Regulus was smiling, talking excitedly, “Dr. Meadows the father of my-”

“Your lawyer,” James realized out loud. “Of course, of course. Pleasure to meet you.”

“He was also my humanities professor in school,” Regulus added.

“Really?” James smiled, looking over at him. “Please, tell me. What was Reg like?”

“Oh,” Oliver got nearly shy, waving him away with the drink in his hand. “Regulus was always a great student. A great friend to my daughter, too. Polite. Mature. He always excelled at anything he put his mind to.”

James looked over at Regulus, that same feeling of pride filling his chest like a breath. “Well, good to know nothing has changed.”

Regulus held his stare, biting into his smile for a moment before he leaned closer to Oliver. “James is the CEO of the organization we are here for tonight.”

“Lovely,” Oliver raised his glass. “I’ve been reading up on it. Sounds like a great mission.”

“Of course,” James nodded. “With increasing relevance. I hope you stick around for the presentations tonight and learn a bit more about our impact this past year.”

“I will,” his dark eyes twinkled against his deep skin, shifting light ever so slightly as they bounced between them. “So, tell me. How do you two know each other?”

James looked to Regulus, feeling the sudden, jarring panic of fatal underpreparedness. They should have probably discussed their script, rehearsed it. Because they couldn’t tell people the truth. Oh shit, too much silence was passing, “Well…”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Regulus smiled at him. Expression so relaxed and at ease. Like it was the easiest question in the world.

James stared at him, stomach clenching tight in the best way possible. Because he’d never heard Regulus say that word with anything but seething anger. And damn, it sounded like the best word ever created in his mouth. The best mouth ever created-

“You certainly make a handsome couple,” Dr. Meadows interjected. “Now, I see a charcuterie table with my name on it, so if you’ll excuse me-”

“Not at all,” James blurted. “It was lovely meeting you. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” He watched him nod, taking off through the crowd, before he looked back to Regulus at his side. His chest felt like one giant snarl of emotions that would never untangle, nor did he want it to.

“Do you mind?” Regulus’ smile pulled up at one side, exposing the sharp canine behind it. “If I steal you away for a moment?”

James wanted to lean in, lick into his mouth in the middle of the crowd. Momentarily thinking back to weeks ago when they stood in nearly the same spot under the glass domed ceiling of this ballroom and Regulus had cried into him as he shared parts of himself that James had never imagined seeing. And it was wild and perfect for them to come back to this. “You can steal me away for eternity.”

Regulus laughed, reaching for his hand and interlocking there fingers as he started to pull them through the crowd. He dragged him to one of the exits. The one that faced the library lobby, taking him up the grand marble staircase and towards the right until they were back in that large rotunda with deep wood walls, encircled in art. But where there had been passerbyers last time, now it was past library hours and closed to the public. The reading room ahead of them was dark, but the rotunda was still moderately lit.

Regulus dragged him to the middle of the room, sitting against the floor and laying back to look up at the ceiling. James laid next to him, but found it impossible to enjoy the Prometheus mural that was floating far above their heads. Impossible to look anywhere but him. Tracing the glitter and gray of his makeup, the glow of his ivory skin, the dark black of his lashes, the classical curve of his profile.

Regulus eventually looked over, shy smile twisted up. “What?”

James’ heart fluttered. “You came.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I mean, I was late. Traffic was crazy and-”

“I don’t care,” James twisted his body until he was braced over him on hands and knees, looking down at his face, his sharply dressed body underneath him. “I just… I’m…” he struggled to find words. “Wow.”

“Wow what?” the man laughed, taking obvious delight in his potent effect.

James shook his head, “Wow, you’re here. Wow, you look like this. Wow, you’re my… my boyfriend.”

“Is that a problem?” he raised up on his elbows, face close enough that James could feel his warm breath against his mouth.

His thoughts went dizzy, spinning like a top. “Yeah, it is actually,” he breathed.

“Really?” Regulus’ fingers guided up under James’ chin, whispering dark and low into the space between them. “And why’s that?”

He felt every muscle go weak with wicked, suggestive delirium. “Because I really want to kiss my boyfriend right now.”

“Here?” Regulus looked around.

“Everywhere.”

Regulus’ eyes came back to him. Deeply navy like the darkest waters that James wanted to dive into headfirst. There was a tinge of nervousness hidden somewhere in them as they flicked down to James’ mouth. And he felt so pulled in, watching as Regulus’ mouth tilted up towards him. Open and soft and timid, but ready. His eyes fell close as he felt the space between their mouths shrink and shrink until-

“We wondered where you had run off to.”

James’ gaze raised, seeing Lucius and Narcissa standing in the large square entryway of the room. They seemed rather unimpressed with the grandeur of the murals around them, instead staring fixedly at James and Regulus in the middle of the floor.

James rushed to his feet, dusting off his pants clumsily. “My apologies,” he breathed. “We were just getting some air. We were about to head back in just a minute, weren’t we?” He looked to Regulus in agreement, but the man was still sitting on the floor. His back was to the Malfoys, his posture suddenly rigid. His stare was fixed on a nondescript place across the floor. And though it had been lively and smiling just a moment ago, now it was cold, lifeless. Like he was caught in a trance by just the sound of Lucius’ voice.

Narcissa wove out from behind her husband, her arms crossing over her chest as the beaded fringe of her dress clicked together with each step. “I’m disappointed, James,” her face contorted in tight disgust. “I thought you were taking this event seriously. But instead, you’re flaunting him on your arm for everyone to see.”

James’ eyes flicked to Regulus, still blurry-eyed and frozen. He had the urge to shake him. He narrowed his glare on Narcissa, “If you are upset that I brought a date, that’s not your concern.”

Tendons in her neck pulled tight enough to snap, “That brat is my concern!”

James felt the unexpected outburst send him a step back, word playing on repeat in his head like a skipping disc. Brat. He had heard it before, from her mouth, but in the rush of confusion, in her sudden irateness, he couldn’t place it.

“Narcissa,” Lucius chimed in perfect monotone. “Maintain your composure.”

“No, Cissy, please,” Regulus rose slowly to his feet, that deadened stare darkening his expression as he turned to face the couple. “It wouldn’t be a party without you making a scene.”

James watched it play out, feeling out of body. Trying to add up too many unpredictable things that were happening too fast.

“Habitual overcompensation,” Regulus tilted his head, a haughty click of his tongue to his teeth. “Because your sister was always the belle and you had to find a way to draw the attention back to yourself, right? Or you’d hardly be your name sake?”

Narcissa marched toward him, “Shut up, you insolent piece of-”

Lucius grabbed her shoulders before she could come any closer, pulling her back, “He’s not worth it. We got him. He’s over.”

“You have nothing, Lucius. As per usual,” Regulus called, voice echoing across the room. “James, let’s go,” he commanded without pulling his eyes from the couple.

James watched him. His forced cockiness, his brazen indifference. Grasping vaguely at the unspoken familiarity, but it didn’t make any sense to him. “Wait a minute,” he stood his ground. Catching Regulus’ eyes now and watching the cockiness slip away in a blink, leaving him wide-eyed, nervous. “You know them?” James asked, a hushed tone he was trying to keep between them.

“Know him?” Narcissa overheard, choking out a scoff. She fought against her husband’s grip, “He’s the brat Black himself.”

In a second, it all came rushing back. The conversation at the restaurant. The little brother who sold away everything. Who estranged himself from everyone. The treacherous villain of everyone’s stories. James looked back at Regulus, watching fear lurk in the shadows of his darkened gaze. In his lovely features, James couldn’t see any villany. But as he looked closer, perhaps trying to find it, everything that had been left to subtext clicked into place. Regulus’ ravenous curls, his stark blue eyes, his ivory skin. Until out of nowhere, James couldn’t see any of Regulus at all.

“You’re…” he could feel the blood drain from his face, not feeling it rush anywhere. As if it was bleeding out down his clothes, for everyone to see his bright red shock.

Somewhere behind him, Narcissa was still murmuring in distant narration, “Only a filthy prostitute could make his communist pig of a brother look like an absolute angel.”

James’ heard the word echo in the depths of his empty head. Brother. It shouldn’t have been the most sinister-sounding word in the sentence.

Regulus’ posture stayed stoic. Fisted hands and broadened shoulders. Chin held high. But James could see everything playing out in his glittering eyes. Anger and sadness and defiance. So vivid as if it was a mural above their heads.

James tried to find his voice, but it came out shaky, fried. “Is that true? Is Sirius your…” his words trailed off, not able to stomach saying it.

Regulus’ eyes gave the slightest shift, like the smallest tilt of a kaleidoscope. The fear maximizing. Confirming everything James needed to know. “James, please,” he pleaded through a wire tight jaw. “Let’s go.”

James felt underwater, at the bottom of a deepest lake. Soundless and thoughtless as Regulus grabbed his hand, started to drag him from the room, down the staircase. All James could hear was his own erratic breathing in his ears, but he was moving. He was following. With steps that didn’t feel like his, a body that felt severed from his drowned consciousness.

It isn’t till he was on the marble steps outside that he felt himself reemerge into his body like coming up for air. The sounds of the city suddenly overstimulating, too loud and too distracting. The sun was setting between trees and buildings, nearly blinding him. It was all too much, far too much. He yanked back on his arm. “Regulus, wait.” But the man didn’t stop, didn’t look back. Just kept dragging him. “I said wait!”

Regulus’ head snapped back, eyes wide and searching James’ face. He shook his head, “I’m not doing this here. Let’s just go home and-”

“Is what they said true? Is Sirius your brother?”

“No!” Regulus shrieked.

James stood a step above him, watching the pink tint of emotion bloom in the man’s face. He was breathing hard, his eyes wide. Something divided between pleading and resisting. “No?” James asked, raising a brow.

“That man isn’t my brother,” Regulus fumed. “He means nothing to me. He left me years ago. He abandoned me.”

“You lied to me, Regulus. You never told me.”

His silver drenched fingers curled in tight frustration, “James, I haven’t spoken to that man in years. There is nothing to tell. He’s irrelevant.”

“Bullshit,” James scoffed. “You knew he was my best friend. He was in my goddamn house for christ’s sake. And you said nothing.”

“Fine,” Regulus threw his hands. “Blame me. Convince yourself that it’s my fault you didn’t know.”

James’ expression contorted, “If it's not your fault, then whose is it, Reg?”

“Him!” he exclaimed in seething rage.

James swore he could feel the heat coming off of him. He sighed, working a hand through his hair, “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been friends with him for a decade. Has he ever once told you my name? Shown you my face? Has he ever even mentioned me?”

“He did, but-”

“But only as his ambiguous enemy. The easy scapegoat for all of his problems. Someone to blame, to curse.”

James went quiet, seeing his point, but seeing no value is pinning this on the absent participant. “This isn’t Sirius’ fault,” he said firmly.

“You know, I kind of miss the days when it was. When he was the most hated man on the Upper East Side. Because he made it look so much easier than it really is,” he growled through gritted teeth, hands working up into his hair, smoothing down the back of his flushed neck.

James’ anger dimmed. Looking through the glare of Regulus’ deception and seeing someone who had been mistreated, misunderstood. That was the man he had come to know.

“You can’t possibly understand, James,” Regulus breathed, weak words in his caving chest. “When he left, my parents said that we were better off without him. That he didn’t care about us, about me. That all he cared about was himself.”

“That’s not true,” James shook his head. “Your parents-”

“Died,” he gasped, voice wavering between fury and tears. “And instead of grieving with me, he acted entitled to the very thing he’d been trying to distance himself from all his life. The company, the money, all of it. He’s a fucking hypocrite.”

James was trying to keep his image of Sirius concrete in his mind. His loyal confidant, his passionate dissenter, his best friend. Feeling like he suddenly couldn’t trust his own memories. It had him clenching his jaw in frustration, “Is that why you auctioned it off? To spite Sirius? Get back at him one last time?”

Regulus’ face broke, wounded. His eyes blinking away glossiness. “You know I didn’t mean to. You know I made a mistake.”

And James did. More than anyone. But it didn’t seem to matter. “Maybe you lied about that, too.”

Regulus held his stare, any suggestion of tears going dry in pure rage. “I knew you’d take his side. I fucking knew it,” he sneered. Turning haughty and callous like it was his favorite defense mechanism.

“Reg,” James tried to meet him at a lower step, tried to stand level with him. “Stop. I can be on both sides.”

“No, you’ll always take his side,” Regulus backed away from him. “Because he’s your brother. Not mine. He hasn’t been my brother in a long time. Ever since you and your stupid ex-wife and his stupid husband gave him a family and made it that much easier for him to forget about me.”

James sighed, tiring of the impenetrable wall of stubbornness. “No one has forgotten about you,” he tried to assure him. “There’s just been… misunderstandings. And I want to help, Reg. I want to fix it.”

“Don’t you dare-” he tensed, looking like he might just hit him, smothering it instantly. “You want to know why I didn’t tell you? This is exactly why, James. Because you always have to help, don’t you? Always have to try and fix everyone around you. But don’t you see the arrogance in thinking you’re the magic fucking cure to everything?”

It struck James like an arrow, wounding the most hidden parts. Parts Regulus knew well enough to weaponize. It made the words in his mouth crumble to nothing. His restraint blown away like dust.

“Why do you get to be cruel about this?” he demanded. “I should be the mad one, yet you won’t even let me have that.”

“Have it then. Without me,” Regulus’ glare stayed constant. “Enjoy your event, James,” he muttered like a curse before turning back down the stairs.

Seeing him leave reanimated James’ panic, lunging forward to try and grab him, “Reg.”

“Don’t,” he yanked away, hissing through his teeth. “Don’t try to follow me.”

James stood helpless, not wanting him to go, but having no choice but to watch. It churned something nauseous in his stomach. Having felt so much uncontrollable bliss just minutes ago, but now, it was gone. And he hated how unsettled it all felt, like it was only the beginning of something much worse. He tried to run through several scenarios, but stopped himself immediately. He was fixing again. Always fixing. Always the peacemaker.

Paralyzed by how transparent Regulus had made him feel, he felt choiceless all over again. So he turned on his heel and marched up the steps, heading back into the event.

It was Marlene who bombarded him as soon as he walked in, flooding him with more information as she held her clipboard close to her chest, murmuring close to his ear to be heard over the chatter of the event. It was enough. Enough of an objective for James to turn off his brain momentarily. To let the passive fixation on the fight go to background music as he started trying to schmooze with the prospective donors.

It was automated how he could fall back into fake smiles, shallow conversations, repetitive ramblings about the organization. It was so ingrained in him, for better or for worse he didn’t know, that it was able to keep Regulus’ glare like a vision in the rear view. Flicking back to it every now and then while trying to keep his eyes steady on the road before him.

“Where did your hot date go?” Marlene had asked during a quiet moment, just them at the side of the room. Marlene’s nose was deep in her notes.

James looked to a passing server, grabbing a glass of champagne like it was a lifeline. “He left,” he muttered into it.

“He’s left?” Marlene raised her head, brows drawn together in the middle. “Why? What happened?”

“Doesn’t mean anything happened.”

“But something did happen.”

Just a dumb tiff. Just a stupid lie. It’s stupid. So stupid. So why doesn’t it hurt so bad?

James finished off the glass, coming up for air as his eyes met Lucius across the room. He was smirking, talking to some guests. James felt something boil up in him as if it was all coming back at once. “I’ll be right back,” he said, handing her his empty glass.

“James, you only have a few minutes,” she rushed to say. “Your speech-”

“I only need a few minutes,” he promised as he started weaving through the crowd towards Lucius. When he finally reached him, he grabbed his arm, watching his eyes shoot up. The smirk across his mouth go slack. “I think we need to talk.”

The man held contempt in his eyes, turning to the guests he had been speaking to and excusing himself. He pulled from James’ grip, walking off towards the corner of the room where the crowd was thinner, out of earshot of others. Still he kept his voice down, tone sharp, “You know, it’s not very polite to run off in the middle of-”

“Who do you think you are, talking down to him like that?” James berated instantly.

Lucius’ eyes shifted, perhaps surprised by James’ forwardness. There was something haughty curling in his expression, looking about ready to burst out laughing, “Regulus?”

“Yes, of course Regulus,” he hissed. “He’s an adult, you know? Yet you thought it was appropriate for your wife to scold my date like he was a child. When you don’t even know him.”

“I do hope you are joking,” Lucius smiled, eyes washing down his expression until he realized James was not. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Potter, Narcissa and I remember when he was born. And now, it is abundantly clear to us that you didn’t even know who his family was.”

James fought the prick of truth. Not wanting to acknowledge it. Because maybe he was still in denial. Not caring about who Regulus related to, but hating that he had lied, withheld for so long. It made his thoughts spiral, his confidence waver.

“Though,” Lucius sighed. “I suppose he had you quite distracted, hm? Scrounging around in your deep pockets?”

James froze, narrowing his eyes. “Excuse me?”

The man’s smirk was all the wider now, slimy and sinister. “We know you have been compensating Regulus for his… services.”

The event fell quiet in his ears, the fight on the steps miles away. “How would you possibly know that?”

“We know a lot about our little cousin. We know where he goes. Who he sees.”

James’ vision unfocused, remembering conversations with waves echoing in the background. The ocean depths of Regulus’ eyes, the warmly lit clouds of his skin, the volcanic rock of hair.

This line of work brings enemies sometimes. They want me caught. They want me prosecuted. Tossed somewhere where they never have to think of me again.

“You’re the ones that have been after him,” he realized out loud, feeling it hit him all at once. That the Malfoys were so much more than unsavory relatives. They were the treacherous saboteurs that Regulus had been outrunning for years.

“After him?” Lucius scoffed. “It’s hardly him we are after.”

“Then, what do you want?” he asked, igniting with sudden fierceness, protectiveness that was now about more than petty insults.

The man gave a disapproving look at James’ tone, but continued still, “The Black ancestral home is the crown jewel of my wife’s family legacy. It is the symbol for which all Blacks remain loyal to. And it has disastrously fallen into the hands of that scandalous, spoiled little slut.”

James gritted his teeth, taking a step toward him. Crowding him nearly into the wall. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

“Or what?” Lucius raised a brow, smirking with all the intent to provoke him. “Do you forget whose event you are at? Who is facilitating the millions of dollars your organization is raising just down the hall? Do you think it is a mere coincidence that we came to you?”

James’ face broke. He stood so rigid that one small push would have keeled him over. If the first wave of realization brought anger, the second brought something far worse. Devastation. As everything fell into place in the worst way. “This was all a set up,” he murmured. “The entire event. It was to get to him.”

“Ah,” Lucius’ eyes glimmered. “You are finally getting it. A bit late-”

“You better start talking right now.”

“Or what? Are you going to hit me, James? Make a scene for all of the top donors on the East Coast to see?”

James wouldn’t. Not because Lucius didn’t deserve it, but because the organization didn’t deserve it. He backed up a step, eyes going to the crowd as he clenched his jaw tight. “Talk.”

Lucius stood at his side, looking over the crowd with him. “When we originally reached out to you, James, it was out of the kindness of our hearts,” he assured. “But we’ve been following Regulus for quite some time. And when our private investigators tracked him to Seattle, I mean, can you imagine our shock when we found out who he was meeting there? We thought it was purely chance. Another naive, useless client playing into every stupid cliche. But then,” he gasped, smile widening maddeningly. “Then, we got the call. That you had taken him into your home like a stray animal,” he cackled. “Tell me, James. Do you think he makes many house calls in his line of work?”

James didn’t know. He didn’t know a lot about Regulus’ work. He’d been too scared, or possibly too distracted, to ask.

“It was all too perfect,” Lucius said, sounding pleased. “And we knew then that you were the key to rescuing the estate and restoring our legacy.”

James was unfortunately following. Seeing the timeline stretch across his mind. His breaths went heavy, slow. Like Lucius was a predator inducing some sort of primal mechanism. James’ felt pulled between extremes. Volatile anger and hopeless confusion. He shook his head, trying to understand, “Why me? Why not some other client?”

“Oh, we’ve tried. We’ve seen his clients come and go. We’ve tried to buy their allegiance, but with these passing, transactional affairs, it is always so futile. But there’s something different about you two. Something different about how he is with you.”

In any other circumstance, it would have been a validating statement. But not when it was being used against him, against Regulus. “I’m more than a client,” he admitted, like a crime he was guilty of.

Lucius’ gaze was heavy enough to feel in his peripheral. “Yes, for whatever reason, it seems so,” he said in quiet awe of himself. “Therefore, you, James Potter, are going to convince Regulus that the Black ancestral home would be better off in Narcissa and I’s hands. You are going to secure the deed in our name. And I’m generously giving you two weeks to do it.”

James’ glare snapped towards him, “And when I tell you to go fuck yourself?”

The man’s smile didn’t wean. “When your two weeks expire, we release all the evidence we’ve collected on you and Regulus to the Seattle Times. Think of it now. Esteemed local philanthropist harbors escort for hire. We have some lovely photos of you two. At your house, on ferries and beaches. Not just in Seattle, but New York too. Not shy about public displays of affection. All the better for an eye-catching cover story, don’t you think?”

Nausea sunk deep into the pit of James’ stomach. Thinking about all those moments that were only supposed to be for the two of them. The illusion of their illicit intimacy dissolving before his eyes in favor of the truth. That there had always been onlookers. And soon, there would be far more people invited into those moments. It made him feel so disgusted, so overexposed.

“Once the story drops, you’ll be forced to step down from your organization,” Lucius ascertained. “Forced to publicly self-flagellate. And you won’t be able to show your face in that town ever again.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Oh, it isn’t a bluff. Just ask Regulus. He knows that Malfoys never bluff.”

James wanted to hit Lucius now more than ever. But he was paralyzed by shock. Trying to do too many things at once. Process the secrets Regulus had kept from him, minimize the fight they had, understand what Lucius was asking of him, control the instinct to rush to anger, think of something to say, breathe. He was trying so fucking hard to keep it together, but his fuse was getting dangerously short. All he knew was that he had to get out of there. He had to get to Regulus. Make something right before he could deal with this.

“Lucius, it’s a solid effort. This blackmailing scheme of yours,” he sighed. “But you’ve entirely overestimated how much I care about all those things. And in doing so, you’ve entirely underestimated how much I care for your cousin.”

The man scoffed, “Who is bluffing now?”

He felt every muscle go tight, swallowing down wild frothing rage, but it still bled into his sharpened tone. “I know you could never imagine caring for anyone as much as your own reputation, but you’re blackmailing the wrong guy. Because you can smear my name in the mud in every city of the world. But I have friends, I have people I love. And I know that as long as I have them, creeps like you and your filthy schemes mean nothing to me.”

Lucius didn’t move. He just stood there. Quiet, infuriating smirk pressing tight against his mouth like he didn’t believe him.

James’ collar was too tight to breathe, edging on suffocating. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go. This event sucks anyway.” He tried to nudge past him, but Lucius gripped his arm tight, drawing their eyes back together.

“Two weeks, Potter,” he hissed. “Two weeks or I’ll ruin you.”

James grabbed his wrist, tossing it away. “Make sure they print my good side,” he bit out, before taking off through the crowd.

James had decided to walk himself back, needing the time to be in his own quiet pensiveness. By then, night had fallen in the city, but the streetlights’ glow lacked the warmth they had just the prior night, seeming to flicker dull instead. The late summer air wasn’t invigorating, but now stifling in its thickness. James was feeling the lack of a dinner, the slight buzz of champagne, the dull ache of his head that was filled with swirling dread. His thoughts weaving in and out of worst and best case scenarios. Lucius’ words were still ringing in his ears, but he kept telling himself that he just had to heal what had happened with Regulus. Telling himself that they just had to move forward, though it didn’t sit right. Because he wanted to be angry, he had earned it, but he couldn’t be. There were greater issues they had to face and they had to face them together. He kept repeating it, a mantra he was trying to hold onto. Even if it sounded slightly weaker every time.

He used his key, turning it ever so gently as if Regulus would be on the other side, ready to slam it in his face. But he wasn’t, in fact, as James stood in the foyer, he couldn’t hear a peep. It was deadly silent, dark as well. As if Regulus had never even come in. James’ eyes went to the staircase where a jacket had been cast off, left crumbled on the steps. It was nearly comforting, a sign of life. He started slowly up the stairs, grabbing the jacket and folding it neatly to lay over the banister. He peeked into the living room, the kitchen, but both were notably empty. He was about to ascend another level to the bedroom until he heard a noise.

His eyes drew down the hall, past Regulus’ childhood bedroom, past the guest bath, the linen closet, the laundry. It was the bedroom door at the end of the hallway. It had been left open, just a crack. Just enough to hear the softened sound of crying.

James felt compelled towards the room, its door whining when he pushed it open. He stopped, his gaze going to the walls around him. They were painted a royal burgundy that was obscured by a smattering of collaged posters. Rock bands that hadn’t made much mainstream music for at least a decade, maybe more. A Yale banner. Two guitars hanging side by side next to the bed, their amp and a coiling of messy cording looking dusty below. There were stacks of magazines on the floor, piled high enough to reach James’ knees. A bedside table by the door had a few CDs in their crystal acrylic cases. A couple of notable album covers, but most self-burned. Scrawled with black sharpie.

Summer 2009
Mysterious tunes for subway people watching
Senior year (fuck this shithole)

James looked up, towards the end of the bed. Peeking over the edge of the footboard was a head of dark curls. It sank something deep into the pit of James’ chest. He held his breath tight as he came around the edge of the bed, seeing Regulus sitting on the floor. His legs were stretched out in front of him, bent knees weak like broken doll parts. His eyes red, wet. He looked small, fragile. James had the sudden urge to handle him with all the delicacy he could muster.

“Reg,” he breathed, sinking down to his knees as he reached for his face. Holding it between his hands. It was tear stained, irritated. The glitter and kohl smudged down his cheeks, making the tears glisten twice as bright. But the depths of navy in his eyes were void of emotion. Turned off like a light switch. “What are you doing in here?”

There was a twitch of his cheek, but no further tears. “I told you-”

“Not to follow you. Yeah, yeah. I know,” he pulled his cuff, wiping at Regulus’ cheeks. The kohl smeared onto his white sleeve, but the glitter stayed stubbornly in place. “But I’m here.”

Regulus watched him through half-lidded eyes, head tilting back against the footboard. His stare was blank, heavy. Like he might fall asleep at any moment. Like he’d tired himself out with all his crying.

James ached, momentarily wishing he’d followed him sooner. “Reg,” he repeated, softer this time. “Why didn’t you tell me you were Sirius’ brother?”

“He’s not-”

“Don’t,” he stopped him. “We both know he is.”

He watched as Regulus’ throat bobbed, swallowing down whatever sharpened words he had primed between his lips. Proceeding to not speak. Looking like maybe he never would again.

“Talk to me,” James clutched his jaw tighter.

Regulus reached for James’ wrists, pulling his hands off but holding them still. He looked down into them for a long time, like a scrying mirror he was seeking guidance from. And when he finally spoke, his throat was rough as if the crying had shredded it. “Isn’t it obvious?”

James wasn’t sure. Everything felt so jumbled in his head. The event, the Malfoys, Sirius, Regulus. He had to tell himself to focus on who was hurting in plain sight right before him. Who mattered to him more than anyone else.

Regulus stayed enraptured by James’ hands. Holding them like they were things. Lacking the affection and familiarity that was also missing from his voice. “We were never going to make it,” he told him. “You were always going to find out who I was. And when you did, it would be over.”

James pulled his hands away, if only to draw Regulus’ eyes upwards. To look deep into them and see the conviction that was layered so deep under the reflexive apathy. “Regulus,” he shook his head, brows furrowing. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m angry. Because I had to find out like this. Because you had every opportunity to tell me the truth and you didn’t. Because you don’t even seem to hold any remorse for it.” He stopped himself, holding back from spiraling into that same anger again. “But do you really think I would give up on you over this?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I knew you wouldn’t. Even if you should.”

James watched him. Not knowing what the sudden conviction meant. What was he so sure of? “I don’t understand,” he murmured.

“There’s so much between him and I,” he explained. “Bitterness and resentment and regret. And I’ve spent nearly a decade wondering if we’d ever grow out of it. But I know now that what happened isn’t something either of us can move past.”

James felt his head spin dizzy, not knowing why. He carefully sat himself down on the floor, knees brushing Regulus' legs, “What does that have to do with me?”

The man’s eyes drew away to where he had started fidgeting with his own silver rings. Twisting them on his fingers like they’d grown tighter. “There was never a timeline in which you could have kept me. You would have always been forced to choose between us and I can’t have you doing that.”

James’ center of gravity pulled out from under him. And he didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend what was happening. But in a blink, he connected it. Because he’d heard words like this before. Words of firm assertion, words of finality. They’d been coupled with divorce papers last time. He felt panic kick up in his chest like muscle memory. “What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly.

“I’m freeing you,” Regulus offered, meeting his eyes. “From a choice that you can’t bring yourself to make.”

He shook his head, “You haven’t even let me consider it. You haven’t given me any choice.”

“Do you plan to keep hiding me from my brother?”

James felt the words prick him like something venomous, leaving him stinging and wincing. “I don’t want to hide you from anyone,” he said, fighting through the pain. “I want to love you so loud, everyone can feel it.”

“Then, do you plan on breaking off your friendship with him?”

James went quiet. And it felt like there should have been more than two options, but in the flurry of panic, he couldn’t see them. He could barely breathe, choosing words over air. “So what?” he swallowed. “You’ve been waiting for this to end? Holding it over my head?”

“I didn’t want to,” Regulus shook his head, adjusting his legs. Drawing them closer into himself, away from James’ brushing knees.

His face stared wide with dismay. “You could have ended this months ago.”

“I tried, remember?” he shot him a razor sharp glare. But it faltered, growing weaker in a blink. “I tried so many times, James. But you kept coming back. And I wasn’t strong enough to deny you.”

“So now you’ve found your strength?” he asked sarcastically as he rose to his feet. Trying to find the air in the room, but there wasn’t any. Regulus had taken it all for himself. James started to pace, undoing his collar as Regulus just watched him from where he sat. There was a flash of hurt in the man’s eyes, but nothing more. Not enough of it to warrant James’ empathy, to stifle his growing anger. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the urge to tear it out. Let it fall from his hands like some sort of manifestation of emotions he didn’t have the words to convey. Because this was too much. Everything was happening at once and it was too much. “So, this is why you never kissed me. Never told me you loved me, hm?”

Regulus bit into his cheek, looking guilty, but not remorseful. “It would have been devoid of any vow for the future,” he told him. “It would have been meaningless.”

James stopped, eyes widening. “What about everything else then?” he nearly shouted, rushing and tripping over his words. “What about falling asleep and waking up to each other? What about meeting your friends? Sharing our homes, our beds? What about everything we talked about? All those things we confessed to each other. Things not intended for anyone else to hear. Was all of that meaningless too?”

Regulus went quiet. Still guilty. Still no remorse.

James wanted to jump out of his skin. Feeling insane with the way that he was the only one freaking out. He wanted to shake Regulus, wake him from whatever trance he’d been in ever since Lucius had opened his smug mouth. He kneeled before him, like an animal showing its throat. “I made promises to you, Regulus,” his voice shook with stoic fervor. “That I would wait for you, stay with you. Love you. I had intended to keep them.”

Regulus’ heavy eyes smoothed down James’ face, glittering makeup catching the reflection of the hall light in James’ glasses. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

James hated it. Hated the way it sounded like he meant it this time. He stood again, hand smearing across his mouth in distressed contemplation. Thinking that this couldn’t be it. Because there had been too many iterations of ending their relationship, but they had never happened like this. Never with Regulus being so uncharastically calm. “Say something, Reg,” he pleaded. “Please, just say something.”

“Like what?”

“Say you love me!” he erupted, voice cracking. “More than your own pride! More than some stupid, fucking grudge against your brother!”

Regulus sat there, watching him with a look of futile pity. Saying nothing.

“Or fuck it,” James threw his arms. “Say you hate me! That you want me to leave. That you never want to see me again.”

The navy in his eyes looked nearly black now, sinisterly placid. “Would it make it any easier?”

James’ chest caved, eyes welling with stinging tears. “Just do it.”

Regulus took a deep breath like loading a weapon. “I hate you, James,” he said flatly, his tone and expression too detached from the words to make them real. “I want you to leave. I never want to see you again.”

James stood wavering on two feet, keenly watching Regulus’ expression. Knowing he didn’t mean it. Knowing that they both still wanted this. Yet it was ending, slipping through their fingers because Regulus was letting it. And in the moment, he hated him for it. And the urge to put distance between them felt so foreign, so indescribably wrong, because James had never once wanted anything but to be as close to him as possible. But this was different, they were being different. And it meant something more that James could only interpret as the end Regulus was pushing for.

His jaw clenched tight. “Still a fucking liar,” he grit out before storming from the room.

“James,” Regulus called before he could reach the door. “What did they want?”

He gripped the doorframe, glaring over his shoulder. “Who?”

“Narcissa and Lucius. What did they offer you to out me?”

James was brought back to Lucius’ threats, the blackmail and bribery. Another mess James couldn’t fix. But he didn’t fucking care. It was over. Out of his hands. He was destined to lose it all at once like some twisted sort of karma had been swirling around in the background, waiting for this moment to crash down around him. “Nothing,” he shook his head. “They didn’t offer me anything.”

Regulus’ brows furrowed. “I know them, James. I know they never intercept me without a scheme. What did they want?”

Momentarily, he wondered if he should tell him. Hold it over his head. Show him all he had been willing to lose for him as if it was a badge of honor. But more and more it wasn’t feeling like something to brag about. His love for someone as fickle and prideful as Regulus was evidently foolish, misplaced. “It doesn’t matter,” he told him. “No one is getting what they want.”

James left him there, going up the bedroom as he started to collect his things. With only his backpack, he took what he came with. Leaving the suit, the clothes in Regulus’ closet. Everything that felt so touched by the man that James couldn’t bring himself to take it. And when he came back down the second floor, he looked down the hallway towards Sirius’ room. Regulus was still sitting in front of the bed, his dark curls faced away. Staring off into nothing. He made no move to look, no move to stop James from leaving. As if it was the easiest thing in the world to let James walk out and not return.

It wasn’t closure, it was the lack of it. It was a wound with no stitches, bleeding and bleeding with no hope of clotting itself. It was Regulus saying all the cliche, procedural things like if he did, there’d be a clean break between them. But each word was so hollow that James didn’t believe him for a second. And it was so much worse. To know Regulus was starving himself of the love he wanted because he couldn’t face Sirius. It was childish, absurd. And it hurt. Worse than anything James could have imagined.

The cab ride to the airport felt like the longest one of James’ life. The car was dark and he was sitting behind the driver just to avoid any sort of contact, even if his leg room was severely compromised in the process. Over the radio, something bluesy was weaving through the car. It was slow and mournful and James was tempted to ask if the driver could turn it off, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. And maybe he should have distracted himself. Gone on his phone and addressed the flurry of texts from Marlene asking where he went. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except look out the window at the city fading in the distance. The same things repeating over and over again in his head, sounding more and more like lies every time.

If he loved you, he wouldn’t have done this.
And if he doesn’t love you, what’s even the fucking point?
You need to get away from him. Stay. Away.
Because he used you. To sate whatever mercurial, passing desire he had.
And if given the opportunity, he’ll keep doing it.
Just like he’s doing to Barty. Just like he’s doing to his clients.
He takes what he needs without consideration. Without remorse.
By loving him, you only made it easier for him to get away with misleading you.
You should have known better. That something like that, like him, wasn’t intended for you.
You should have learned that the first time. When Lily taught it to you. You should have been vigilant.
Always so practical until something pretty and smart-mouthed and seemingly perfect walks into your life.
But you fall on your own sword of hopeless sentimentality every time and there's no one left to fix you up. His lies made you a traitor to them all.

He talked himself into endless cycles of increasingly brutal ruminations until he didn’t know who to blame anymore. Until his eye caught his phone screen lighting up with a notification.

Seeker paid you $100,000.

James’ pulse jumped. He sat up in his seat as he swiped open the notification. His stare froze on the transaction, the memo.

Reimbursement for services.

Chapter Text

The airport was quiet in the middle of the night as James waited at the curb. There was a lean in his stance like he might fall over. His exhaustion so far past solely physical. He was weak in his bones, his thoughts. He’d preyed upon them for so long on the flight that they’d gone silent, numb. So much so that when a specific tightness permeated his chest, he had to wonder what was happening. And it was like his body remembered before his brain. The way he’d been at this very place a couple weeks ago. And there’d been hugging and smiling and reunions they’d been patient for. And for a flash, James wanted that again. But then, he didn’t. Because he couldn’t. Souring the memory by revealing to himself that there had likely been someone watching, photographing. He looked around, briefly paranoid they could still be following him.

Before he could ascertain if he had a lurker in his midst, Pete pulled up, getting out of the car with a certain stiffness in his shoulders. James had to immediately admonish himself, wincing painfully as he remembered why he hadn’t seen his friend in a while. Because fuck, Pete’s surgery. James had forgotten, caught up in carrying out routine steps in hopes they’d drown out all the other overwhelming feelings.

Pete smiled nevertheless, reaching out to hug him.

“Don’t,” James said softly, placing a hand to his arm. “You shouldn’t be raising your arms.”

“Oh, come on,” the man scoffed through a smile. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he raced to say. “You’re healing. And I’m the idiot that called you for a ride even though you have at least another week on sick leave because I totally forgot and damn it, it’s the middle of night and you should be-”

“James,” Pete stopped him, the smile slipping off his face as concern flooded his light eyes. “Are you okay?”

There it was. The urge for it all to spill out. To let it go and sob in his friend’s arms on the airport curb. He briefly considered it, wanting to know if it would bring him any relief. But then, he thought about that persistent onlooker again. The voyeur in the shadows. And he clammed up, mouth going dry. “I’m okay,” he lied with a nod. “And you’re going home. I can call myself a ride.”

“I’m already here,” Pete argued. “Let me take you.”

James eventually conceded. And perhaps Pete hadn’t believed his lies because he kept the car quiet on the drive home. James returned to the task he’d conceived on the plane: a list. Of everyone who he needed to make things right with. Because if he was damned to lose nearly everything he loved, he knew his friends couldn’t be one of those things.

Marlene, he wrote at the top of the list in his phone. Because he’d been the selfish fool that left her alone at the event. Ghosted all her texts, even the ones that had come in after his plane had landed in Seattle. And he didn’t just owe her, he needed her. To run the organization in his absence while he sorted this mess out and perhaps, even beyond that if he failed to sort it out.

Sirius, he wrote next. How the fuck was James supposed to tell him? That he had been accidentally been fucking his sworn enemy for the past few months. That his hellish cousins were psychos who were trying to gun James down in the street. Would Sirius even listen? Would he ever want anything to do with James again? He had no idea. But his friendship with Sirius was too precious to lose. And damn it, if he couldn’t keep one Black brother, he felt a bit entitled to the other.

Lily, he wrote as the cityscape came into view, holding onto his breath like it might keep his emotions from escaping beyond his control. And perhaps it wouldn’t have made much sense to most people. Putting your ex wife on a list of people you needed to make peace with. But Lily was different. She wasn’t just a small footnote of James’ history, but, in fact, she’d probably have a whole wing in his museum. She knew him, better than anyone. And he needed her validation, the unconditional way she loved. If only to legitimize his own skewed perspective, to have someone tell him that he did the right thing. Did what he could. He needed it more than anything.

Regulus.

James wrote the name. Deleted it. Wrote it again. Staring at it in his dimmed phone screen. Wondering the same thing he’d toiled about the whole flight home. Was this it? Was there any other ending for them? What would be the price to pay for peace? James had raked his thoughts across the coals for so long, yet they were half-baked at best. Because if the price was losing Sirius, if it was sweeping Regulus under the rug for the rest of his life, if it was having to constantly barter for more of Regulus’ love, then it would never be sustainable. Never be worth it. He crossed the name out one last time. And it felt wrong, but so did keeping it. So instead, he kept his eyes level on the cityscape, letting them defocus until the lights were all a blur. And with enough determination, it came. The numbness, the exhaustion.

It carried him the rest of the way home, into bed where he could fling off his clothes and sink into the cool sheets and take up as much space as he wanted because no one else was there. When it started to feel lonely, he told himself it meant more room to breathe. But his own voice nagged in his ear. Said he didn’t want to breathe. He wanted to laugh and cry and kiss and fuck and talk and talk and talk until everything was okay again. He wanted to do all the things you couldn’t possibly breathe while doing. He wanted to not breathe with Regulus, for Regulus. But he knew he shouldn’t want that. Because he couldn’t get that. Because other reasons too.

So he stopped wanting, stopped feeling. Focused on breathing. Until the numb became sleep.

Morning came like an unwanted reminder and even with a few hours of sleep under his belt, James couldn’t muster the energy to do anything but stare out the windows of his room. The fall air was thick with morning fog as if it contained a warning. The endless rain of Seattle winter was ready to set in deep any day now and James was, for once, thankful for it. Thankful that the city would soon go into hibernation. Days would get shorter, darker. Friends would go longer stretches without seeing each other. And that was what he needed. Space, silence. Solitude. It was what he needed to acclimate to again.

Barely out of bed, he dialed Marlene’s number in his phone. He kept his glasses off, afraid of catching sight of himself in his bedroom mirror. He didn’t want to face himself, face anyone. But he knew he couldn’t lose momentum. Not yet. So he started with Marlene.

“James,” she clipped as soon as she answered the phone. “You better start explaining-“

“McKinnon, I need you to come over to my house.”

There was silence strung tight across the line. James was too exhausted to discern if it was irritation or confusion or a bit of both. The woman sighed, “So, I take it you aren’t coming into the office?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I can’t come in. Not for a while at least.”

“James,” she scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll explain when you are here.”

James walked into his bathroom, splashed enough water on his face to work through his skin and hair. Knowing it wasn’t the shower he needed, but he couldn’t bother right now. He pulled on a pair of sweats, walking into his living room and noting just how deep the emptiness permeated. The house had never felt so quiet, so lifeless. And again, James told himself the same thing.

Room to breathe.

When the doorbell finally rang, James went to it. He opened the door carefully, looking past Marlene on his doorstep to the road that stretched out wide. He noted the cars there, knowing a few of them by sight.

“Come in,” he murmured, letting her slip past him as he shut the door. “Did anyone follow you?”

She spun around to look at him, her face drawn up tight on one side, “Excuse me?”

“Any cars? People? Did you see anyone on the street?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I wasn’t exactly looking,” she told him. “But no, I don’t think so.”

He sighed, nodding as he went to sit down on the couch.

She watched him from where she stood, nearly frozen. Visibly torn between upset and worry. “James,” she said, stepping closer until she was standing over him. “Tell me what’s going on. And tell me why it looks like you’re running from the damn cops.”

“Not the cops,” he smeared his fingers across his tired eyes. They had started to get sore without his glasses. When he looked up, he could make out the paleness in Marlene’s face. So he mustered up whatever procedural words he could. “I’m in a bit of a difficult situation at the moment,” he told her. “And I can’t balance my duties to the organization at the same time.”

She sank down into a chair, barely on the edge of it, “What sort of difficult situation?”

He met her eyes, seeing the concern there. He was already tired of people’s concern. “I’d rather we not talk about it.”

“And I’d rather we did.”

He knew he owed this to her. He’d left the event without telling her. He’d disappeared. He’d left her to handle everything he hadn’t. He was stupid, so stupid. So distracted. “It’s a long story,” he swallowed down his guilt. “And I’m okay. But things have come up that are taking up all of my mental bandwidth.”

Marlene closed her eyes, shaking her head, “Cut the bullshit and tell me, James,”

“McKinnon!” he snapped, watching her startle. He felt guilty all over again, taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry. I wish I could. But I can’t. At least, not yet.”

She watched him for what felt like eternity, making him feel so uncomfortably overexposed. “Fine,” she finally breathed, like she was coming to terms with it. “What do you need from me?”

He needed a lot of things. Things he couldn’t ask anyone for. He needed a drink, a shoulder to cry on, a crumb of dignity, a leg to stand on. “I need you to lead. Carry on without me for a little while.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s a little while?”

He opened his mouth, hesitating as he remembered the countdown he was working against. The bomb waiting to detonate, to blow everything he had left to rubble. “I’m not quite sure,” he admitted.

She was quiet, staring at him in parts. Her eyes darting down to his clothes, his hands, up to his hair, his eyes. She didn’t look pleased, but when she took her next breath, it was deep. “Anything else?”

“I need you to let all the staff know not to accept or sign for any paperwork that might get delivered for me.”

Her brows knit together, “Are you getting served? Are you in some sort of legal trouble?”

“I don’t think so,” he shook his head. “But I’m not looking to find out.”

She held her silence longer this time, thoughts scattered just behind her light eyes. “Okay,” she finally nodded.

“And if anyone starts to see anything suspicious going on. Cars following, people watching. Taking pictures. I need you to let me know.”

Her stare went to the floor, defocusing in her pensiveness. “James,” she asked, softly. “Did you do something illegal?”

“No,” he lied through his teeth. “But I have a few enemies right now that are looking for any excuse to bring me down.”

She didn’t raise her eyes, didn’t ease her worried brow. “Does this have something to do with your date? At the event?”

His attention pulled in too many directions. Something kicking up in his chest at the just the passing mention. “Why would you say that?”

She started to fidget with her nails. “I heard the Malfoys talking about him. They didn’t seem too pleased he was there.”

James’ mouth pressed into a thin line. The fucking Malfoys. Their sinister games and their hateful misconceptions. James should have turned them away from the start. But instead, he’d been so utterly foolish. “I will tell you when I can. I promise, Marlene. It’s just… it’s all still happening.”

“Don’t call me Marlene,” she muttered, nearly under her breath. “You never call me Marlene.”

He forced a weak smile, hoping it would put her at ease. “Get back to work, McKinnon.” He stood up from the couch, ready to walk her out, but in a blink, she had her arms wrapped tightly around him. It felt so strange, like James’ body wasn’t his own. But still he hugged her back stiffly.

“I hope you're okay,” she mumbled, her chin hooked over his shoulder.

“I will be,” he said, hoping it was true. “Eventually.”

She pulled away, looking into his eyes, “And you’ll come back to work?”

He could see the desperation for a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. Not when everything was about to slip away from him. “If I don’t…” he shrugged. “Would you… Would ever want to-”

“I don’t want to be CEO, James,” she shook her head. “I’m not a leader.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short,” he told her. “Because I’ve never seen a challenge you couldn’t rise to. And that’s always taken being a leader.”

She smiled, despite herself. She pulled out of his embrace, readjusting her jacket, her bag. “Will you call me? When you have an update?”

“Yeah,” James nodded. “Of course I will.”

As soon as the door shut, James was alone again. Quiet again. Maddeningly so. He checked his list, knowing exactly who was next before even reading it. He cursed under his breath.

He wondered if he should tell Regulus, briefly catching himself in reverie as he imagined picking up the phone and pacing his living room like he was about to wear the path of his feet in the rug. It would ring and ring and with each one, James’ heart would swell with a mix of dread and anticipation. But of course, all he would get was a voicemail box. “Regulus. It’s me,” he would say, cringing immediately at himself. “Listen. I’m sorry about the way we left things. I didn’t want it to be like that. But I know you’re upset. Maybe you hate me now. I don’t know.”

He would let the scene of their breakup play back, knowing Regulus didn’t hate him, but the thought still loomed. James would wonder if he himself hated him back. That one was less clear. “I am going to talk to Sirius today,” he would say firmly, like there was no choice in the matter. “I have to tell him, Reg. And I won’t go into detail about it. Won’t tell him anything except what happened between the Malfoys and us. But he needs to hear it from me, before he hears it from them.”

He wouldn’t mention the blackmail shit. Regulus didn’t need to know about James being splashed across the local news. It would probably make a few headlines nationally. Maybe he would find out that way. James knew he’d feel bad, but good. He should feel bad.

“I miss you,” James would say, something to fill the silence. That would be all. More words would be said too, all with varying degrees of honesty. “And I love you. And I’m struggling to do all this without you. But if you aren’t ready to face it, someone has to.”

Regulus wouldn’t call back. Why would he? But maybe, if James was lucky, or unlucky, he’d text something three minutes later. Something like-

Don’t tell him.

And James' heart would flutter in the deepest caverns of his chest where no one else could hear it beat back to life. But he’d hold himself firm, not wanting to entertain any hope of romanticism. Because romanticism is what got him here in the first place.

I have to. Or your cousins will.

Let them.

And God, James would be able to hear it in his voice. He’d be dying, hands in his hair as if the voice was in his ears. As if Regulus was standing right in front of him. Beautiful and diabolical all at once.

It’s going to sound twice as bad coming from them. They probably will lie. Say that I was paying for you all along.

I don’t care what they say. It’s over. We’re over.

And it would hurt all over again as if it had ever even healed in the first place. But it would be the sobering he needed. The reality check. He’d be reaffirmed in his bitterness, holding it close to his chest like armor. Typing out the words with slamming fingertips.

If we’re over, then you don’t get a say in the matter anymore. I’m telling him. Because even if I don’t have a relationship to preserve anymore, I have a friendship. And I’m not losing that too.

Regulus wouldn’t text back after that. James was sure of it. So he didn’t bother calling.

The forecast said that autumn was there and the ever-present chilled, spitting rain was all the indication Seattle needed. James managed to drive himself to Sirius’, though he’d flirted with the idea of a few drinks beforehand to calm his nerves. But drinks would do nothing to exact the words he desperately needed to. No, he needed a clear head for this, if it was ever going to end well.

After ringing the doorbell, James less than patiently waited for his friend to pull open the door. And when finally stood across from Sirius, looking him in the eyes, he was stunned at the way it felt like an entirely different man across the threshold. Because why had James never noticed the few small moles that dotted Sirius’ neck, his cheek? Or how the blue of his eyes was far lighter than navy, far more lucid than heavy-lidded, but still reminiscent of swirling waters? His curls looser, hair longer, especially when tied back, but those few small pieces that framed his face, how they contrasted against his skin? All these small details were inagruably different from his brother, not intended to be compared beyond generalizations. But still, James couldn’t help but think that this person wasn’t the Sirius of his memory. As if Regulus’ confession had been able to shift the light so drastically, that James could no longer unsee where the two overlapped.

“Hey,” James breathed, pushing the hood of his raincoat from his head and feeling all the water trail down his back.

“Hey,” Sirius looked caught off guard, likely confused why he didn’t forewarn of the visit beforehand. “You’re back from New York?”

“Yeah,” James nodded, fidgeting with the velcro patches at the end of his nylon sleeves.

There was a slight furrow between Sirius’ brows, just a twitch of hesitation, “I thought you weren’t coming back until-”

“Plans changed.”

Sirius’ smile fell, looking James up and down like he was trying to decode him. Not having any luck.

James cleared his throat. “Can I come in?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Sirius jolted, opening the door for him. “Of course, you can.”

James started to remove his rain jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack by the door and watching it drip onto the wood floor, “Where is Remus?”

“He’s at class. This is his late day.”

“Good.”

Sirius looked back at him, confused. “How was your trip?” he asked cautiously as he started to walk him down the hall towards the living room.

“How are you?”

He looked back over his shoulder as he walked. “Fine.”

“Any job searching?”

He beckoned to an open laptop at the counter as he took a seat on the couch, “Thank you for the much needed distraction.”

James sat across from him in a chair, feeling too rigid for a house that typically felt like an extension of his home. He saw the way Sirius had drawn his knees up into his chest. It was too reminiscent of his brother again. Of how Regulus had sat up against the footboard and broke him. “Can we talk?” he asked.

Sirius seemed to sense whatever was coming, one brow raised slightly higher than the other. He couldn’t hide his thoughts the way Regulus had learned to. Everything about him had always been an open book. That hadn’t changed. “Are we not talking?” he forced a smile, trying to insert humor the same defensive way Regulus would insert insolence.

“No, like-” James swallowed. He should have practiced this part on the drive over, but he’d been too wrapped up in the intro to think about the transition. “I had something I wanted to ask you.”

His stare deepened with concern. “Are you okay?”

James had been strong enough to lie to Marlene, but that strength was wavering now. His mouth went tight, shaking his head, “Don’t ask me that.”

It only served to make the room feel unbearably thick with tension. Sirius messed with his wedding ring, knuckles clenching tight before he shook them out again with a sigh, “What do you want to ask me, James?”

He gulped down the last of his apprehensions, forcing the words out just as he had practiced them. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about your brother?” he asked, surprised when the words sounded tight, angry already.

Sirius’ expression went flat, clearly not having expected this to be the topic of conversation. His lips sealed, not speaking.

“Were you-” James fought back the memory of Regulus’ stinging words. “Were you ashamed of him?”

“James,” Sirius breathed. Pensivity knit deep between his brows before he flicked those stray hairs from his face and finally spoke. “He’s my past, my childhood,” he told him. “And you can’t understand. How I just wanted to run so far from it. All of it. So I just burned every bridge that led back there. Because I wanted nothing to do with any of them.”

“But that isn’t completely true, is it?” James sat forward, glare sharpening. “Because you wanted your parents’ company.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged, looking down into his hands. “But sticking around there wouldn’t have done anything to secure it for me. I knew I had to wait for them to die. I knew I could only retrieve it then. They would have never given it to me willingly.”

“The most hated man on the Upper East Side,” he murmured, repeating Regulus’ words.

Sirius’ gaze flicked up to him, eyeing him strangely. “James-”

“How long did it take you to go back to him? After they died?”

He stopped, thrown off again. “My brother?”

“Mhm.”

He hesitated, guilty eyes flicking away again. Shoulders a little higher, grip a little tighter. “I had to take my time,” he said like he was trying to convince himself it was the truth. “I had to grieve in a way that was authentic to me.”

“How long did it take, Sirius?” he pressed in harder.

“Why does it even matter-”

“Tell me,” he snapped.

Sirius stared back, searching his face for an explanation for this tone, this topic. Never finding it. “A year.”

“A-” James choked through a sick laugh. Unable to contain his disgust. “And you were surprised that he hadn’t gift wrapped it for you?”

He went quiet, contemplating. Round, sorrowful eyes on James like he was something unpredictable, erratic. Trying to see where this was going, what his next move was, how he could best arm himself for it.

“Sirius, you don’t understand,” James’ shoulders fell. “Regulus needed you.”

His eyes went lighter, whole face changing. “How do you know his name?”

James stared at him. Knowing the jig was up. That it all was coming down to this. He rose slowly from his chair, coming closer and kneeling down in front of him. “Sirius. Listen to me.”

His friend sat up, scrambling to get away from him. “How do you know his name?” he repeated, getting more frantic.

James saw the panic in his eyes. He felt a pang of empathy for him. He remembered when ignorance was easier, safer, happier. But if James couldn’t live in that enchantment anymore, neither could Sirius. “I need to tell you something,” he said slowly, as if calming down a wild animal. “Because you're my best friend. And I don’t want to keep anything from you.”

“James,” he breathed, making it sound like a plea for that blissful ignorance to stay.

He couldn’t hold it back anymore. “As you know, a few months ago, I met someone on an app.”

Sirius froze, expression unsteady like it might crack at any moment. Behind his eyes, James could see the rush of thoughts. How he was trying to piece this together. Trying to find the connection between two facts.

“That person was Regulus,” James admitted.

Sirius’ brows turned downwards. His darkened stare holding. “No,” he shook his head. “No. That’s not possible. That’s actually quite impossible.”

“Why?” James challenged.

The man swallowed. Gaze flicking briefly around the room. “He doesn’t…” he struggled to get the words out, anxious quirks overwhelmed his body language. A twitch in his cheek, fidgeting hands, tight posture. “He doesn’t date. He’s… well, he’s…”

“Sirius,” James reached out, putting a hand to his knee as he held his stare gravely. “I know.”

Sirius stared back, frozen again until something in his cracked. He got up from the couch as if a rush of panic was flooding him. He began pacing the rug. His chest rising and falling with tight breaths, shaking his hands out like they were sweating. “Are you trying to tell me-“ he started, falling off his words. He ran a hand through his hair, combing it out of his face so he could meet James’ eyes again. “Did you… Were you…”

“It started like that,“ James admitted with a nod from his place on the floor.

His eyes widened. “You were paying for him?” his voice jumped nearly an octave. “For sex?”

“Sirius,” James sighed, rising to his feet. “Listen to me-”

“So, Mary wasn’t being dramatic,” he backed away, disgust seeping down his expression until he looked like he might spit at James’ feet. “You’re some kind of sex addict. Some sort of depraved freak.”

James stopped in his tracks, feeling the sharp slice of his words graze his cheek. He tried not to go back there. Back to the all consuming shame of the past. “I’m not,” he asserted through gritted teeth. “You have to believe me. It was more than that. From the start, it was so much more than that.”

His face drew up tight, mocking, “More? I don’t know what more means for that sort of arrangement but-”

“We fell in love,” he said, and it made the room fall silent. Save for the pounding of James’ heart in his ears.

Sirius’ gaze held unwavering on James. His emotions draining from his face as if he was actively disassociating from them. “Well,” he cleared his throat. “That damn near confirms it.”

“Confirms what?”

“That’s not my brother. It couldn’t be,” he shook his head in disbelief. “Regulus isn’t capable of loving anything, but his own misery.”

James ached all over again. Because maybe Sirius was right. Hadn’t that been what pulled them apart? Regulus didn’t love him as much as his own residual grudges? James took a deep breath, putting those thoughts away for much later as he tried to center himself. “He’s twenty-eight. Lives in your family’s brownstone on the Upper East Side. Three stories. Your bedroom was on the second floor, down the hall from the kitchen, wasn’t it? Your parents used to make him go to the library after school until he started doing ballet.”

“No,” Sirius winced. “Don’t.”

“Him and his best friend, Pandora, signed to a ballet company at the end of school. And he danced there until your parents died, but he never went back after that. Now, he’s mean to rich men for money. Damn good at it too.”

“And you know all about it,” Sirius took a step forward, shoving James’ shoulders with both hands. “You sick, disgusting-”

“I stopped paying him months ago,” he asserted, standing his ground. “And he refunded me all my money.”

It stopped Sirius. Confused him. “I don’t believe that.”

“Fucking hell,” James muttered, fishing his phone from his pocket and opening up his transaction history with Regulus. He extended the phone towards him.

Sirius yanked it from his hand, eyes lit up by the glow of the screen as he studied it. His eyes darted from one side of the screen to the other as he scrolled. Like perhaps he was taking in the notes, the dates. Working out a timeline. His face wavered between disgust and confusion, absentmindedly biting into the flesh of his thumb, almost rocking back and forth where he stood. “Why did you stop paying?”

“Because I stopped being a client. We were dating. We were together. He was my boyfriend, Sirius,” James sighed. “And yeah, he still saw clients, but that was fine. We were good. At the best of times, we were great.”

He handed his phone back, voice little more than a murmur as he started to pace again, “You’ve been keeping this from me.”

“I only found out he was your brother two days ago.”

“Oh, better yet. He kept it from you,” he gave a huff of sarcasm. “Of course he did. So fucking typical, Reggie.”

James wondered if it was true. If it was so typical. How many red flags had he ignored? How many times had Regulus deceived him before he said it was enough? But then he remembered, he hadn’t. Regulus had said it was enough. He’d confidently decreed they were done.

Sirius’ shoulders were still shaking with laughter, throwing his head back to let out a nearly maniacal sound, “And you thought you could come over here and tell me how much you love him and I’d feel compelled to forgive all ills. You thought we’d be hosting dinner parties together in no time. You are so incredibly arrogant to think that after all these years, I would even consider-”

“He dumped me.”

Sirius stopped, that mocking smile staling on his face before slipping away, “He what?”

“He dumped me,” James repeated, no easier to say than the first time. He took his seat again, “Two days ago.”

Sirius stood over him, blinking. “Why would he do that?”

James’ glare turned sharp again when he looked back to him, “Why do you think?”

Sirius clearly had no idea.

James sat back, telling himself that this wasn’t Sirius’ fault. So why did it feel like it was? He sat quiet, twiddling his thumbs as he was forced to remember what Regulus had said. “He didn’t want me to have to choose between you two.”

His friend’s expression darkened as he seemed to try piecing it together. He paced again. Steps slower now, pensive. He took his seat on the couch, fingers wearing together. “But you sort of did, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re here with me,” he motioned between them. “Not clawing his door down in New York.”

James felt a flash of remorse, as if maybe he should be. But something in his posture straightened, fighting the feeling. Trying to remember that he wasn’t responsible. Regulus was. With his firm words and quiet tears and unwavering decisions and- “He made it clear his mind couldn’t be changed.”

Sirius sat pondering that, eyes fixated on a spot on the carpet. “You could have slipped by and never told me.”

“No, I couldn’t have,” James’ eyes closed, fingers rubbing at the warm base of his neck. “You needed to hear it from me before anyone else,”

“Who else would tell me? Regulus hasn’t spoken to me in years.”

“The phone works both ways,” he reminded him.

Sirius looked unamused by the suggestion. “Who else knows, James?” he asked more firmly.

James wore his teeth into his lower lip, feeling that pounding in his ears a little stronger. “Do you know what the Malfoys have been doing to him?” he asked, feeling his teeth gnash. “Stalking him. Threatening him. Trying to get him locked up.”

Sirius was quiet. A pink flush slowly deepened in his cheeks, infecting his neck and chest. Running under the collar of his shirt.

James watched it bloom, leading his thoughts down a dark road. “How do you know he’s a sex worker? Who told you?” he asked, already sure of the answer.

His friend looked inexplicably caught. Mouth opening and closing twice, like a gasping fish, before he finally got the words out. “They told me a few years back,” he admitted unwillingly. “They wanted me to do something about it. Talk to him or something, I don’t know. But I refused.”

“Did you know they were harassing him?”

Sirius winced, a smear of disbelief in his expression. “What do you even mean? Harassing? You know my brother is prone to exaggeration, right?”

James’ jaw went tighter, feeling a flood of heat soaking through him. “Following him around the country. Taking pictures of him and his clients. Trying to blackmail the clients into speaking out against him. Trying to get him behind bars if possible. Unless that was your goal too?”

“There is no way,” Sirius shook his head. “The Malfoys are awful, but they aren’t-”

“Monsters,” James spit like a curse. “They are monsters, Sirius.”

“He told you this?”

“They told me. Every word of it, they told me,” he said slowly. “And now, it’s me they are after. Telling me they are going to release photos of us to the local press if I don’t get the deed by the end of next week. They are going to incite a smear campaign against me. Make me lose the organization, my image, my donors, everything.”

“The deed?” his face tightened. “What deed?”

“Oh, you thought this was just about image? About keeping the Black name squeaky clean?” his eyes widened. “No, Sirius. This is about a stupid, ancestral brownstone on the Upper East Side.”

Sirius was still staring stupid like a baby calf who just landed on Earth, “They want our home?”

“It’s not your fucking home,” James bit out. “It hasn’t been your home since you left him there. It’s his home.”

It wasn’t clear if Sirius was listening. He was looking off towards the floor, a fingernail worked between his teeth. He looked nervous, on edge, concerning this new information. “If I had known they were doing that-“

“Yeah, right,” James scoffed. “What would you have done? Hm? What have you ever done to protect him?”

Sirius looked up at him, listening now. His eyes looked tired, sad. Worn out by the cyclical nature of the conversation. Anger, sadness, misunderstanding, anger again. He rubbed his face, letting his fingers rake through his long hair. “What do they want?” he asked. “What do the Malfoys want?”

James felt a creep of shame crawl up his spine, not knowing why. “I was supposed to convince him to hand over the house.”

Sirius watched him, piecing it together again. “But you can’t. Because the happy couple broke up. And now, you need me to convince him for you,” he sighed, like he was realizing why James was there.

“What?” he whispered, brows furrowing. “No, no. No, I don’t want Lucius to have the house. He can fuck right off.”

“So, you’re just going to let the Malfoys out you? Let them ruin everything?”

“Yeah,” James said. Out loud for the first time. It brought the rush of fear at all it might change, the realization of just how terrifying it was. “Yeah, I am.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” his friend shook his head. “He’s your ex.”

The reality of it gnawed at him, but it wasn’t enough to change how he felt. He took a deep breath, feeling any hesitations leave on the exhale. Feeling right in his gut that it was still the easiest choice in the world. “You couldn’t possibly understand this,” he admitted. “But that house belongs to someone who means more to me than you could ever imagine. And I’ll be damned if I let it slip into the filthy, scheming hands of Lucius Malfoy.”

“James,” Sirius still looked at him in horror. “You don’t have to be a fucking martyr. It’s a house, for christ’s sake.”

He groaned, knowing that his friend wasn’t getting it. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his house keys and parsing through them until he found the gold key to the brownstone. He held it up, letting it glimmer in the light. “Maybe to you, it’s just a house. Maybe it is a haunted place for you and your past. And I get that. But it’s more than that to him. It’s where he suffered. Where he grieved. It’s the bitter past he reconstructed into his treasured present. A haven for his friends. For me, at one point in time. And I would never ask for him to surrender such a huge part of himself for me.”

Sirius watched that key shine, expression deadening. “Even after he surrendered you to me?”

James stung at the prick of truth. “Yes,” he affirmed, letting the keys collapse back on the ring and sliding them back in his pocket. “Because I don’t stop loving someone just because they make a mistake.”

He rolled his eyes, “What Regulus did to me was more than a mistake. He sold off what was mine like it meant nothing. Like it was-”

“Like he was lost and pressured and in pain and had no one to help him make that decision,” James felt the fury roar back in him. “He thought you were long gone. That you’d abandoned him,” he continued to fume. “How do you think it felt for you to come back, a year after your parents died, motivated only by your selfish desires? Never explaining why you’d left in the first place? Never assuring him that it was your parents, not him?” He watched as Sirius went quiet, lips pressing into a thin line. Staring at him with such a clutter of emotions behind his eyes that James struggled to pick out any singular one. “He changed nearly every room in that place. Except yours. He’s kept it like a time capsule of the day you left. Did you know that?”

He stayed quiet, frozen.

“Sirius,” James pleaded weakly. “He grieves you every day.”

He pulled his eyes away, a stiff breath leaving his chest. “Stop. Just stop, okay?” he rose again to his feet. He paced, hands lacing behind his head as he tried to catch his labored breath. “God, is this why you came here? To berate me? Talk down to me? Like I’m some petulant child? Don’t you think I’ve gotten enough of that to last a lifetime?”

James felt empathy curl warm in his stomach. “I came here because I didn’t want my best friend to find out I’ve been seeing his little brother from some front page spread.”

He cringed in disgust at whatever imagery it mustered for him. “Listen, James,” he stopped in front of him. “I don’t care who you fuck or how much you are paying for it, but don’t you come in here acting like just because you know me and you think you know him, you can make this all into some kind of happy ending.”

James struggled to compute. Hearing such a shallow take. As if Sirius hadn’t been listening at all. As if he wanted to deflect everything James said into something stupid and simple that he could willingly ignore. It was a crummy, paper-thin defense mechanism. One he’d seen before. And it made all that rage boil until all the remaining empathy in it was gone. “You’re just the same as him,” he bit out, making the words cut razor sharp. “You don’t even realize it, but you’re just the same.”

His face fell, wide open hurt making his cheeks tinge pink. “Don’t say that,” he murmured.

“Why shouldn’t I?” James stood, squaring up with him. Unable to hold himself back. “Both of you care more about being right than doing the right thing. Pride over loyalty. Every damn time. Two rotten apples who don’t fall far from the tree.”

“Shut up,” Sirius grabbed him by the front of his shirt, painted fingers gripping tight and dragging him closer. His breaths erratic and eyes crazed as he raised a fist.

“What’s going on in here?”

James’s eyes went to Remus standing in the entrance of the living room. He had a messenger bag hung over his shoulder, a handful of random mail. A look on his face between shock and confusion.

“Nothing,” Sirius released his grip, standing back as he straightened his clothes. His anger pulling away to nothing, becoming awkward and stand-offish in his shame. “James was just leaving,” he murmured, crossing his arms over his chest. “Weren’t you?”

James watched him. In near pity. Because he saw just how much he was like his brother in all the wrong ways. The guilt and self-consciousness he carried around because he’d always been told he was the problem. And perhaps Regulus, and even James, might have thought that Sirius would be better for it by now. In his marriage, his distance, his wisdom. But he wasn’t. And it wasn’t anything but dizzying. Everything was so dizzying.

James could feel every breath, feel it fill his head like smoke that hazed his senses. The room felt like it was spinning, hotter and dangerous and coming for him. He tried to fight through it, leveling his words. “You know, I’d tell you to consider what I said-”

“But?” Sirius reached up, retying his hair if only to not have to look at him.

James could barely see him, barely see anything. He thought he might pass out, faint here on the carpet. He held himself strong. “But I know you will. Because I know you regret what you did to him. And I know you miss him, too.”

Through blurred vision, he could see Sirius look up at him. Holding his stare for only another shameful moment. “Goodbye, James,” he said, bypassing him as he moved toward his room down the hall. The world was left waiting, the axis tilting so far that James wondered why the furniture wasn’t sliding across the floor, before the bedroom door slammed.

Remus was yanking James’ shoulder immediately, “What the actual fuck-”

“I’m sorry for the disturbance, Remus,” he said, distracted and half-hearted as he tried to manage the rebellion of his body. “I should really be going now.” And he did. He kept walking until he was out the door, until he was driving home in the near dark of night. Auto-pilot all the way back.

And for the first time ever, he was in a free fall that felt completely untethered from anything that would save him before he hit the ground.

James spent the next few days alone. How many days passed? Two, four, five? It wasn’t clear. He had lost track of time, meaning to call Lily, meaning to cross her off his list but he never quite got there. He promised tomorrow, but tomorrow never came. He drank. He barely showered, didn’t shave. He ordered takeout because the thought of leaving his home didn’t feel safe anymore. He worried about the dangers that were beyond his control. He worried about those who had come to hate him. He worried about cameras hidden from sight.

He faded in and out of drunkenness in a way he hadn’t since perhaps freshman rush. He left the television on in the living room just to drown out the quiet. He slept on the couch because his bed felt too big with no one else in it. He cried when he got too drunk, got mad when he was too sober. Tried and failed to find the balance between the two as the days got away from him.

Equally, he oscillated between blaming himself and blaming everyone else. He hated the way he’d spoken to Sirius, the way he wasn’t in New York trying to win Regulus back, the way he couldn’t bring himself to call Lily because recounting every failure of his would have been too damn difficult to do again. Then, he remembered it was Sirius' fault for not being the brother he should have, Regulus’ fault for being a brat. Then he found a way to blame himself all over again.

No one called him. No one texted. Not Peter nor Marlene nor Remus even. And maybe they thought they would give him some space, but in fact, James had far too much space. He was drowning in it. So deeply that he didn’t know how to cry out for help.

It was a few days in that there was a knock at the door. A knock at the door disturbed James’ half-drunk slumber. His eyes shot open wide to find he was still on his couch. The house was dark, the television murmuring some advertisement at a low volume under the persistent sound of rain that was ringing muffled through the windows. There was another knock, feeling like it was against James’ throbbing temple. He tried to stand, groggy on his feet as he maneuvered around a collection of paper take out bags on the floor. He looked over to the digital clock on the oven glowing green through the darkness, but without glasses affixed to his face, he couldn’t determine if the hour number was a two or a five. All he could reasonably perceive was that it was late and raining and someone was still knocking.

“I’m coming,” he called gruffly, righting his sweatpants on his hips as he staggered to the front door, fumbled with the lock, and pulled it open.

The sound of the rain rang louder in his ears. Cool, damp air traveling with it. Touching James’ face like a sobering splash of water, his bare chest just enough for him to wish he’d grabbed a sweater. He blinked once, twice. Waiting for his vision to uncloud, but damned genetics, it never did. Most concerningly, the shape of a person standing across from him wasn’t unfamiliar. Shorter and leaner with dark curls framing fair skin. The imprecise sight of two dark brows above light eyes. Sirius? At this hour? James sighed, sounding as tired as he felt, “What do you want?”

Pink lips shifted on the man’s face, curling up at the corners until white teeth were glowing back in the porch light. “Wow, I’ve never seen your beard so thick.”

James’ ears burned red, blinking twice as fast now and nearly seeing his vision improve, if only guided by the sound of the visitors’ voice. It wasn’t the voice of his friend at all. It was a voice that James would know anywhere. Most recently, echoed in memories that haunted him between swigs. Habitually inflected with sharpness and sarcasm that acted as much-needed armor from those he didn’t trust. But James had seen past that side of him, worn down those surface level defenses and unveiled just how much more gorgeous he was underneath them.

Regulus.

James’ encumbered body went weak, leaning into the doorframe for support as his mind swarmed with a million incomprehensible thoughts that weren’t any clearer through the stale taste of alcohol in his mouth. And in the moment, he wondered if he was even awake at all. If this was a dream, a vivid hallucination of the not-so-distant past that served to prove James’ madness. “What are you doing here?” he managed to choke out.

Regulus’ chest fell on an exhale. “I won’t lie. It’s not my favorite look of yours,” he bypassed the question. “Shrouds your annoyingly sharp jaw. Now, are you going to invite me in or leave me out in the rain?”

James’ head felt packed with cotton, his body too stunned to move. Now, more than ever needing those glasses that were still sitting on the coffee table. To prove to himself that this was real. That it wasn’t a dream.

Don’t you dare let him in, an inner voice called out. Remember that he’s the one who told you to leave in the first place.

But what if-

“What are you doing here?” James repeated more firmly.

Regulus’ arms wrapped around himself, as if the chilly fall rain was finally getting to him too. “Work.”

“Work?” James’ face contorted. “You have a client here?”

“A few.”

James fell silent. He didn’t know that. He didn’t know a lot of things about Regulus. And the man didn’t seem keen on divulging any more than that. At least that part was consistent with his character.

See? He didn’t come here for you.
Then, who did he come for?
Who knows? Probably Sirius. It’s always Sirius.

It felt true enough, even if James couldn’t fully make sense of it. But that internal voice of reason wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the curiosity that was screaming through him. To uncover exactly what had brought Regulus to his doorstep after saying that he never wanted to see him again.

“Fine,” he gritted through his teeth. He turned back into the house, feeling the man fall into step behind him. Regulus closed the door, removed his shoes. James heard every wet sound reverberate off his walls. He hurried for those glasses now, grabbing them and pushing them up onto his face to look back at where Regulus was walking down the small set of steps into the main room.

Regulus stopped in the middle of the room. He was wearing jeans and hoodie that were nearly soaked, his bangs wet enough to be weighed down into his dark lashes. The darkness and the mess of James’ slip into persistent inebriation surrounding both of them, making them feel an ocean away. Regulus kept his stare locked on James, like he was a horizon he wouldn’t peel his eyes from. A content smile soft on his mouth that confused the hell out of James, sent a chill up his spine like he himself was the one standing soaking wet. Regulus’ eyes were so bright and piercing, his posture so relaxed and at ease, that James wouldn’t have cast him as the same man who had stared distant at him days ago and broke his heart.

“Uh, sorry,” James stuttered, reaching for the remote to turn off the passive chatter of the television and let the room go darker. His thoughts rushed, choking his voice up into his throat with something that he was by no means ready to acknowledge. “So. Where is he now? Your client.”

“He had to take a meeting.”

“This late?”

“He works on Tokyo time.”

James’ mouth flattened into a straight line. “And you wanted to see if I told him.”

Regulus’ brow folded slightly, smile slipping in passive confusion.

“That’s why you’re here, right?” James raised a brow. “Because you knew I would tell your brother. And you just had to know how it went.”

Something behind his eyes wavered momentarily in the shadows. “Sure,” he breathed. “We’ll go with that.” He went to the glass doors of the balcony, pushing one open and walking out towards the metal bannister at its edge.

James felt that chill again as it seeped from the open door. He reached for a blanket on the couch and wrapped it around his bare shoulders, before following Regulus out there. He stood in the threshold for a moment, watching how the man’s eyes were cast into the shadowed ether of his backyard. The overhang above them sheltered them from the downpour, but the wind still ruffled Regulus’ curls. James momentarily wished to be a ghost that could haunt him forever if only to admire him. Dismissing the sentimentality as nothing but lingering nostalgia of his past self. He joined Regulus at the bannister, looking up towards the nighttime view of the city on the horizon. “I thought you said you didn’t care what your brother thought.”

Regulus crossed his arms over the railing, putting his chin to his elbow. Staring up at James with his sparkling eyes. “Tell me, James.”

James tracked the navy in his eyes, deeper than any sky and dotted with more stars than there were known galaxies. Wondering how they’d gotten here. How he was dreaming the most perfect wonderful dream. He forced himself to look away, afraid that he’d be weightless and stranded in his space if he dared linger there too long. He cleared his throat. “He’s upset.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Shocker.”

James fidgeted, remembering the conversation in sharp detail despite his efforts to drown it. Sirius looked so mad. And hopeless. And upset. But not just with James, but himself. It felt a bit like a mirror, James having seen that same look in his own reflection. Anger, defensiveness, all growing weaker in the face of deeply rooted shame. “Perhaps I was a bit hard on him.”

When the silence stretched too long, James looked over at Regulus. There was something subtle knitting between his dark brows, twisting in his pretty lips. James watched his mouth for too long before opening his own again. “About him leaving. Not knowing what were you going through,” he explained. “He didn’t know about the Malfoys. About what they’ve been doing to you. I don’t think he was expecting that.”

“I don’t need his pity,” he shook his head.

“You don’t,” James affirmed. Because he knew. He knew.

“So, that was your grand tactic?” he nudged James’ arm with a smile. “Get mad at him first, so he can’t get mad at you?”

It was impossible to ignore. The sardonic nonchalance in Regulus’ voice. His loose, relaxed stance. As if they had never even broken up. But they must have. Because if they hadn’t, they’d be touching. Haptic as ever in each other’s arms. They’d be doing other things too. James tried to usher his thoughts away from there. “Wasn’t a tactic,” his jaw went tight. “Just… I was so angry. I’m still angry.”

Regulus hovered ever so slightly closer. “And why’s that?” he murmured.

James looked at him. Feeling pinned like a butterfly under his stare, his voice, everything about him. Words tumbled out of him because it was easier to talk than to think. “Because I did everything I could,” he blurted. “With the best intentions.” He didn’t realize just how weighty the words were until they were out there. And they wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t slow down. “Yet I’m the one in the center. It’s all collapsing on me.”

“You’re right,” Regulus noted, with a tone that indicated his thoughts were elsewhere. “It’s not fair.”

James couldn’t decode the dissonance between his words and tone, moving past it instead. “I think part of me wanted to hate him. Because you hate him. Because you make it look so easy.”

Regulus’ expression remained unchanged, as if he wasn’t listening.

Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe this whole impassioned speech was falling on deaf ears. “But what repulses you only makes him endearing to me.”

“And what is that?” Regulus asked with another roll of his eyes. “What exactly repulses me about that poor brother of mine?”

“That he’s human,” James said with full confidence. “That he’s a mix of flaws and endearing bits too. Because it would be easier if he was evil and malicious. If he was the villain of your story that you claim he is. But he’s not.”

Regulus watched him for a moment, his expression placid. And then he laughed. A loud and sudden and open-mouthed cackle. He laughed. “Oh god. You’ve really been trying to untangle this, haven’t you?” he clutched his chest as if to stop himself. “Tell me then. What will you do when you’ve got it all figured out? Write a book? A play? About the Black brothers and their lifelong game of tug-of-war?”

James’ brows turned down into a glare, feeling fury kick up at his insolence. “You don’t fucking get it,” he cursed under his breath. “If you think this is a game, then you can’t see that you’ve already lost.”

“How do you figure?” he suppressed another chuckle. “Please. I’m all ears. How have I lost?”

“Because you loved me.” James watched as the grin on Regulus’ face weakened. And even then, James held his gaze, unblinking and quiet, until he was sure he had every ounce of the man’s attention. “You loved me more than it was convenient for you to admit. And you thought sacrificing me would make you feel like the martyr, but it hasn’t and it won’t. Because deep down, where you don’t admit it to anyone, you know the only one sabotaging Regulus Black is you. You know you’re the villain of your own story. You know it and I know it and Sirius knows it too.”

His brows turned down, “What did my brother say?”

James seethed, angry all over again that it was the mention of Sirius that stuck with him. “He said that you aren’t capable of loving anything but your own misery,” he bit out. “And evidently, he’s right.”

His eyes went distant, thoughts elsewhere as his expression blanked. The sound of the rain filled the silence that hung heavy between them until Regulus finally opened his mouth, hesitating before speaking. “If you know me so well, tell me. What do I do now?”

“You live out the story you’ve written for yourself,” James said firmly. “You spend the rest of your life cursing your brother like he’s the reason you can’t have the things you love. Because that’s exactly what you wanted from this. That’s why you did this.”

“Good,” Regulus clipped with a quick nod. “Perfect then.” But something in his tone was again detached from the words. He briefly looked behind them, towards the darkened living room. “And you? What do you do?”

I spend the rest of my life believing that no one can ever love me enough to change for me.

The answer sat poised and ready just beyond James’ lips, but something prevented him from saying it. Maybe he was worried it was too honest. Worried that saying it would bring on the self-fulfilling curse he was doomed to keep repeating. So instead, he stayed quiet.

Regulus watched him, waiting for him to talk. But when it seemed decided that he wouldn’t say anything, Regulus slid down the banister until his soaked clothes were brushing James’ side. He leaned close, murmuring near James’ ear with warm, dewy breath, “You know he’s going to be stuck in that meeting for another hour or two.”

James wasn’t ready for it. Wasn’t expecting it. So it hit him like a bus. A come on. After James had just poured his heart out and got nothing in return. Not an apology. Not an explanation. Not much more than shrugged shoulders. No, Regulus hadn’t offered what James wanted, what he needed. But instead, he was offering sex in perhaps the most tone-deaf way anyone ever had.

And despite that, James could imagine exactly how it would happen. Exactly how he would take the one big step and close any distance remaining between them. He’d touch Regulus’ face, pulling him in as their mouths met like they’d done it a million times. Because they were fools for never kissing before. Fools for letting it drag on this long.

Regulus would be just as great a kisser as James had dreamed. Probably a biter, yanking on James’ lips with his teeth just to toy his mouth open and slide his tongue in. Just to lean closer, deepen the angle, until their tastes weren’t two but one.

James would grab his hips in both hands, gently pulling him back into the living room, then the bedroom. He wouldn’t stop kissing him, making up for lost time or some bullshit as he laid him out across the unmade bed. He’d let his hands end up in Regulus’ lap, wasting no time in touching him through his wet clothes. Trying to get Regulus hard, get him off, like it would bring James more relief than anything else in this world.

He’d end up between Regulus’ legs as he always did, eager for his taste and the view of the man whimpering and squirming like a curse was surging through him. Regulus would have his shirt off by then. Pretty, demure shoulders slumped together in a way that would have had his cruel ballet teachers cracking a ruler against his spine. His dark, dripping hair slipping into his face just to be combed away with shaky fingers, a faint sweat at his temples, swearing under his breath as James mercilessly worked him.

Regulus wouldn’t be content with finishing in James’ mouth, on his face. No, he’d want to be fucked. And James wouldn’t hesitate to oblige him when he finally got pulled up onto him, mouths drawn together again as they rolled on the bed. Regulus would be so wound up, clumsy as he tugged at James’ sweatpants. Seams popping open, clothes raining onto the floor with a wet plop as they pushed them off each other. Regulus would be hungry for James, famished like he’d been starving himself for it. Fishing James’ cock from between his legs and touching him, long strokes with his pretty fingers, tightening up at the base until James was groaning into his mouth, smiling and calling him a tease.

Regulus must have had the right supplies on hand, there for a job after all. He would have that lube in his back pocket, waste no time in letting James sink fingers into him as their mouths stay sealed. Feeling the choke of Regulus’ throat quiver his lips against the kiss and using every little tell like James had spent a lifetime cataloging them and knowing the precise moment he was ready for more.

And when he was, James would draw him into his lap and slide into him. He’d hold his body weight against him, providing support as he rocked his hips up into him. Watching it jolt him like a bolt of lightning up the man’s spine. Watching his head fall back and his mouth open wide and every pretty noise fill the room. And James would honor those noises, going and going until all Regulus needed was a few fingers wrapped around his cock to get him off. To have him spilling across both of them just as James let himself go too. Cause they’d always been great at this part, fucking fantastic at it.

Spent and breathless, James would lay Regulus down across the sheets like he was the most delicate thing on the planet. He’d hover over him, kissing his chest, his face, his mouth. Hands gripping his face as he delivered the message that he’d been trying to send since his ears registered that lovely voice on his doorstep.

“I still love you,” he’d say. And he would mean it. Because it was something he hadn’t learned to escape. And not blackmail, damaged friendships, threatened livelihoods, nor broken hearts could negate that fact.

In this fantasy, James tried to move Regulus’ lips. Make them repeat the same words back. But he couldn’t. They wouldn’t move. The navy in Regulus’ eyes went black. And it suddenly felt so cold and empty and sinister in a way their sex never had.

It was enough to snap James back into the moment. To feel the breeze on his cheek, watch again as it mused Regulus’ hair. To feel the metal banister rough underneath his fingers, grinding more nervously as Regulus’ expectant gaze bore a hole through him.

Is this it then? Is this why he came?
A fuck for what? Old time’s sake? Some selfish catharsis?

The suggestion reduced James to nothing. To Barty who carried around Regulus’ heavy burdens, but never his guarded heart. And it hurt, it hurt, it hurt. And sure, James was the king of self-flagellation, but self-sabotage? That had always been Regulus’ thing. Never his.

“No,” James barely got the word out, shaking his head. “No, you should be going.”

Regulus’ stare didn’t ease, it kept studying him. Searching for something. “Okay,” he nodded, without fighting it. Making it sound like he was perfectly fine with that option.

James turned to leave, back through the balcony door. Hearing Regulus follow him all the way up to the front door. He watched as the man relaced his shoes, opened the door for him that offered nothing but rain and darkness. But James didn’t care about being a good samaritan anymore. Not when he was being preyed upon, used like he meant nothing.

Regulus hovered hesitantly near the door, lingering as if he still had something to say. He was messing with his sleeves, eyes drawn down towards them. “Hey,” his voice cracked softly. He cleared his throat. “How has it been?”

James’ brows twinged together, hearing the contrast of his tone. No longer distant or sarcastic or trivial. But now, it held authentic grief. “What do you mean?”

Regulus swallowed, looking up at him. Eyes shining weaker in the porch light now. “Without me,” he said. “How has it been?”

James’ gaze dripped down his face, watching the man’s mask slip. And what was underneath was weak and fragile in a way that was equally puzzling. It gave words to something James had felt too many times to count. That Regulus’ emotions would often take up so much space that it made it impossible for James to have any of his own. And in the moment, he resented it so deeply that it ached. James blinked, stirring strength from that deep, aching place. “Like I finally have room to breathe.”

Regulus’ cheek gave a near imperceptible twitch to the side. One he seemed to overcorrect immediately with a soft smile. “I’m glad,” he nodded, as he turned back into the shadows of the rainy evening and traced the path towards the road.

James was left there in the doorway, watching Regulus until his silhouette faded from sight. He felt the physical tug of their threads of fate stretching more taut with every moment that Regulus moved away from him. And while he briefly felt the urge to chase him down, he knew there was nothing good that could come of it. Because he knew there had been a time when he had been content with having Regulus any way he could, but that wasn’t possible anymore. James had other needs now. Intentionality and permanence and resolution. And Regulus’ actions had made it clear that he couldn’t offer those.

When James was back inside, the mess around him, the darkness, all of it felt three times as big, three times as overwhelming. It blurred his senses, his vision as tears welled up into his eyes. He wiped at them, askewing his glasses as his shoulders began to shake. As he crumbled to the floor. Hands and knees and sobbed and sobbed until he mustered the strength to crawl forward and grab his phone from the coffee table.

He dialed the number he knew by heart. Heard it ring three times. A sleepy voice echoed a hello through the line.

“Lily,” he heaved, slumping onto his side. “Lily. I need you.”

Chapter Text

James kept his eyes on the rug while he spoke, rambling so incoherently in his own ears as the dawn light shifted slowly into wider, longer rays. After a while, the words stopped sounding like words. They sounded like emphatic nonsense. And Lily’s questions, comprehension checks to contextualize the story for the most part, didn’t sound like anything more than concerned murmurs that he was somehow making sense of, somehow responding to it. Until his mouth had stopped moving and the rays were so dispersed that they painted the walls and James knew he’d reached a stopping point, even if he couldn’t tell how sufficient it was.

“It’s complicated,” she mumbled.

James looked up to her for the first time since she’d shown up sleepy-eyed on his doorstep approximately two hours earlier. She was still in her raincoat, though it was dry now. Leggings and mismatched socks. Her curls all stretched and frazzled in a bun. Her face was neutral. Not shedding tears nor spreading a smile. And there was something deep working between her brows.

“Which part?” James asked, slumping back into the couch. The exhaustion of the emotional display, the mental gymnastics of the likely chaotic explanation, all hitting him at once as he slid down further.

“One feels betrayed. One feels abandoned,” she traced her pointed finger in the air from one side to another, like she was trying to visually map it in her mind like an anatomical diagram. “Though neither has the story right.”

James’ thoughts were still too trapped up in merciless ruminations to fully listen. “I didn’t want to say those things. I shouldn’t have,” he shook his head, admonishing himself. “But I just wanted him to fight for it. Fight for me. Because it felt like I was the only one ever fighting. I mean, Lily, you should have heard him. So aggressively passive. Like walking away from this was the easiest thing in the world.”

“Because it's better than the inverse,” Lily murmured, nearly to herself. Thinking and thinking, with her fingertips tapping against her lips. “He thinks he’ll disappear and you and Sirius will make up. He thinks the relationship between you and him will become ancient history, relegated to a touchy topic neither you or Sirius bring up at dinner parties.”

James could imagine it, though it pained him. Because they had been more than that. He was sure of it. “And what’s the inverse to that?”

“If he’d fought for you to choose him,” she nodded, like she’d worked it out. “Because in his eyes, there could come a day when you would have regretted, even resented that choice. A day when you look at him with different eyes and realize he wasn’t worth everything you gave up to be with him. And that prospect was far more terrifying. Which is why he hasn’t given you the option.”

“Losing me on his own terms is less painful,” James realized, understanding. And the lingering aftertaste of his words was bitter. Remembering what he’d told Regulus. About how he was just trying to do whatever it took to make himself the victim. Maybe it was true. Maybe it wasn’t. There were too many fresh emotions obscuring his objectivity.

James looked up at her, noting again how she was still caught up in her own pensiveness. Her outside perspective shining light in places he’d forgotten to look. It all felt eerily familiar. And James was suddenly taken back to being a child at the breakfast table. His mother hunched over his homework with him. How she’d never quite tell him the answer, but guide him there when he got tired, frustrated.

Seeing the similarities there made James feel reflexively disgusted, like there was some weird Freudian bullshit at play. But perhaps it wasn’t that deep. Perhaps it was just the many days his mother and Lily had spent together. The hours they’d spent bonding. Afterall, Lily had never seen eye to eye with her own family, so when the Potters had opened their arms wide to her, Lily had run to them. Lily had mirrored his mother’s light for so many years that it reflected outwards like a beacon. Looking at her now, he could see his mother’s calmness in chaos, her fairness even in the morally gray, her headstrong need to help. And James missed his mother and he missed Regulus and he missed when every thought didn’t feel sharp enough to prick.

“Come on,” Lily nudged his knee, standing up to her feet as she started to stretch her arm across her chest.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re going on a run.”

“No, no,” he waved her away. “I can’t-”

“Get dressed,” she commanded over her shoulder. “You need to get out of here.”

“My house?” he raised a brow.

She leaned forward, tapping a finger to his temple, “Here. So, let’s go.”

The mid-morning air was crisp with last night’s rainfall. It hadn’t been a lot, not much more than a stubborn drizzle, but enough to make the evergreen smell new. Make their breath steam from their mouths and noses as they did their typical course around the neighborhood. They used to always do this, granted earlier in the mornings before Lily’s shifts had started and before James’ was due at the office. Countless runs, many of which were wordless. But they had known that it wasn’t the chance to talk they needed, but often the opposite. The absence of discussing work and finances and how is so-and-so and did you remember to do that thing I mentioned?

It was strange to remember that past. How Lily and him had walked hand in hand from one stage of life to another, blissfully ignorant to the solitude that typically accompanied adulthood until they were divorced and forced to face it for the first time. And while James knew that the marriage had served those younger versions of themselves, he also knew that the growing pains that had inevitably drawn them apart had been necessary in becoming the people they were meant to be. And he found himself mesmerized by the way the turbulence of his emotions for Regulus had given him stunning, retrospective clarity on Lily.

“You still sprint the last block?” she huffed as they started coming up on the final turn toward his house.

He caught himself smiling, “Are you challenging me?”

She shrugged. “For old time’s sake,” she said before taking off. Doubling her speed down the last stretch.

James cursed under his breath, taking off after her as a laugh split his pounding heart into two. He followed the brightness of her hair, keeping focused on closing in on her before something caught his eyes. Across the road, parked just a house down from his, was a bright red car. A rental plate taped into the back window.

He slowed on his feet, staring at it intently as Lily’s footfalls faded away. He came up to the car, heart still racing as he looked inside. There was a woman asleep in the driver’s seat. Short brown hair, a narrow, pixie like face. Her face was pressed so close to the window that her breath was leaving a dripping cloud of condensation on the glass. James raised his eyes to the passenger seat where a camera lay, its telescopic lens protruding from the bulky body.

He felt the heat of the run latently filling his cheeks. Distantly, he heard Lily’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

He couldn’t pay her any mind. Not when his mind was racing with a million thoughts. Each one angrier than the last. Winding his muscles tighter and tighter as the cold bit back at his cheeks. He dove his hand into his pocket, pulling out his keys. Flipping to the small swiss army knife he kept on the ring and twisting a tiny blade out. He went to the car’s front wheel, feeling all his anger surge through him as he jammed the tiny blade into the rubber of the tire.

The wheel enveloped the blade, giving way as it punctured a hole. It hissed and hissed as the air started to escape. James looked back to the driver’s seat, watching the woman’s eyes shoot open. Fear filled her face. Mouth opening like she might scream, but she instead grappled clumsily for the door handle, nearly slipping out onto the street before her sneakers hit the pavement.

“What the fuck do you think your-”

“I could ask you the same thing!” he immediately rose to meet her rage. “Tell me who you are.”

“Who I am? No, who the fuck are you to be harming my property like-”

“It’s a rental,” he noted venomously.

“You know what I-” she seethed, hands curling into claws as her face tinted pink. “I’m calling the cops on you, you fucking psychotic piece of-”

“Call them!” James shouted. “This is a private neighborhood. You are trespassing. Not to mention what you have in your passenger seat there,” he pointed to the camera.

The pink in her cheeks went more faint. Her anger going still.

“James!” Lily ran up behind him. “What are you-”

“How much are they paying you, hm?” James took a step closer to the woman.

She mirrored his steps, backing away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, much less volume now. Looking trapped, caught.

“Of course you do,” he bit out, nearly spitting. “It must be a whole lot of money for you to be messing with my life like this!”

The three of them fell silent. James’ glare still drilled onto the woman.

She was still staring back, though a flicker of fear nearly caught fire in the brown of her eyes. She swallowed, finding her footing again, “All I do is take the pictures. You are the one in them. You are the one messing with your own life.”

James shook his head, fed up with her inability to take responsibility. His breaths contracted in his lungs too quick, heart squeezing so tight that he couldn’t help but lose the strength in his voice. “I’m going to lose everything I love because of you!” he choked, feeling Lily’s hands grab his arm and tug him back, but it was too late. He was feeling himself unravel, falling apart all over again. “And you’ll feel nothing! You won’t care an ounce, will you?”

She crossed her arms across her chest. “I don’t spend my time feeling bad for billionaires who want to pretend their sex lives are life and death.”

“Is that what you think this is about? You think this is about sex?”

“You tell me?” she scoffed.

James’ blood ran hot, egged on just before Lily put an arm across his chest to keep him from stepping any closer.

“I don’t know what those assholes told you, Miss,” Lily managed to keep calm. “But you are mistaken.”

The woman looked to Lily, a glimmer of hesitance behind her stony expression.

James felt the fight draining from him. He just wanted to go home, to curl up in bed and cry. But he couldn’t. Not when she was right here. “Come with us.”

Her face ratcheted tight, “Absolutely not. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

James sighed, “So are you just going to walk back to New York? Or whatever shithole you crawled out of?”

She glared at him, toe tapping on the asphalt. She looked down the street, back up it, seeing no traffic. No possible escape.

“I’ll fix your tire,” he noted, somewhat desperately. “If you come talk to me, I’ll patch it.”

She raised a brow, “What sort of billionaire are you then?”

“Not like the ones you think you know,” Lily breathed. She waved her to follow. “Come on. You must be dying on your feet.”

James didn’t understand what she meant. Not until he looked down and saw the large belly protruding from her too small winter coat. She was pregnant. The regret of his anger curled like nausea in his stomach. But he tried to remember who she was. What she was enabling the Malfoys to do. But it was still a tired flame that was threatening to extinguish.

When James got back inside, he took off his coat, tossing it to the floor. Feeling all too encumbered as he started to pace the living room floor.

It was Lily who kept calm. Set up a chair in the middle of the room for the woman to sit. Got her a glass of water. Asked if she needed anything. And while the woman still didn’t seem pleased with this whole interaction, she seemed to relax in Lily’s kindness.

“What’s your name?” James managed to ask as he pulled up a spot on the rug a few feet in front of her.

She shrugged, taking a generous sip of water. “I could tell you a fake one.”

“You won’t,” he replied.

She held his stare. “Alice Fortescue.”

“Do you know mine?”

“I don’t need to know. Don’t really care. Doesn’t make a difference-”

“It’s James Potter,” he told her anyway. “Now, why are you taking pictures of me, Alice?”

She was trying to stay strong. It was evident. Maybe it was her own exhaustion. Maybe the surging hormones making her emotions swing as if James’ were any better. But there was a gnawing in the inner side of her lip that seemed to speak for her. A shine in her eyes that was unmistakable. “Do you really want to know?”

James sat forward, leaning his arms onto his knees. “Yeah. I really do.”

She was breathing faster now, a quickened rise and fall of her chest. ”Uh,” she blinked away that shine, eyes unable to stay steady on anyone but the rug. “My partner. He’s sick. He has cancer. We are artists. No salary. No insurance. Nothing. So you can imagine chemo isn’t cheap.”

“Neither are deliveries,” Lily noted, eyes on the woman’s stomach from where she stood leaning her hip into the kitchen island.

Alice seemed to remember the fourth presence in the room, running a hand over her bump. “Yeah, well,” she sighed. “I’m just trying to make sure they have a dad that isn’t just a name and a photograph and a sad story.”

James’ mouth sealed tighter. Empathy fighting against him now. Wondering why there was a stranger forced to spill their most private battles on his living room rug.

“There was a job posting on a bulletin board in the hospital. It boasted fair compensation in exchange for discretion. Two days later, I got an email from a private account. No name, no company, just the promise of a quick deposit into my account.”

“You don’t know who you are working for?” Lily sounded baffled.

“Nope. And I don’t need to know. It’s probably better if I don’t,” she told her. “All I needed to know at the time was that there was someone they needed to keep tabs on. So three days after that first email, they had me flying out to some city half a world away to catch some kid cozying up to an international socialite I had never even heard of.”

“He’s not a kid,” James corrected.

Alice raised her eyes to him, brows drawn tightly together, “He looks like a kid. Is that why you like him?”

“No,” James shook his head. Refusing to take the bait. “Besides, he’s-”

“I don’t really care,” she waved him away. “The less I know, the better.”

James felt it stoke the anger in him again. “Because the less you know, the less you have to humanize us. To realize that we are real people and you are having a major impact on our lives, our relationships, our careers-”

“The men he was meeting were very rich,” she interrupted, brown eyes going sharp and haughty. “You know you weren’t exactly the first to have him.”

James felt his anger fume like smoke. “No one has him. He’s his own person. A real person, Alice.”

“Whatever,” she slumped lower in her seat like a bratty teenager talking back to her parents.

James ran a hand across his face, trying to wipe away his frustration, but ultimately failing. “So you take photos of him,” he started again. “And that goes on for however long. Then why are you here? You must know he left? You must have been awake last night when he did. That’s why you are sleeping on the job now. So, explain to me.”

Alice sighed, “Things have changed since I started getting sent out to Seattle.”

“Changed how?”

“I don’t get sent to very many other places. And now, the emails don’t seem to care about the other rich men. They only care about you. They have grown extremely particular about getting as many shots of you as possible. Whether he is here or not.”

“Do you know why?”

“Do you think I’ve asked?” she raised a brow.

James looked down to his hands, wondering just how much he should tell her. But what did he have left to protect? “Those emails you are getting are from a man named Lucius Malfoy. He’s a wealthy, evil man, Alice. And he’s trying to sell me out. End my career.”

“Then maybe you deserve it, James,” she said blankly.

“He doesn’t,” Lily added.

Alice rolled her eyes. “Look, I already told you. It isn’t my fault you’re paying some-”

“You don’t have to finish that sentence,” James stopped her. “Especially not when you’ve been taking money from a rich man in exchange for your own discretion, right? Getting on planes for him? Following his orders? Hm?”

She went quiet, mouth pressing tight. A flash of hurt in her eyes.

“So maybe don’t act like you have some sort of moral high ground here.” He rose to his feet, pacing again. Gaze casting to the balcony where the memory of Regulus leaning into the bannister was too fresh. “Besides,” he murmured over his shoulder. “I don’t pay him.”

“Why not?”

He turned to look back at her, noticing the distrustful crease in her brows. “Because he was my boyfriend.”

The distrust didn’t ease. “That’s a weird fucking lie to tell.”

“Not a lie,” he shook his head. “The Malfoys know it's not a lie. Which is why they are getting these photos, threatening my career. Because they want to threaten him through me.”

Alice was clearly still working through this, but there was the faintest little speck of understanding in her eyes. Just enough to hold on to.

“I don’t love him for what he does. But I know he has to do it. Just like you have to do this. And yet, your partner still loves you, right? And I get it. You don’t owe me anything. I know you are fighting battles that I can’t even dream of. You’re being strong in ways I couldn’t even imagine,” James admitted, exposing his modesty. “But you have nothing to gain from taking me down. It won’t make your battles any easier to fight.”

“I have bills to pay.”

“Then, let me help you,” he offered. “And I don’t have to be a nameless, faceless person behind a computer. I won’t make you run halfway around the world. I’ll just help you.”

She was watching him carefully, looking for the lie he assumed. But she seemed to be struggling to find it. “It wouldn’t even matter,” she shook her head. “I’ve been sending the photos to that email for months. They must have hundreds at this point.”

James winced, hating to think just what was in them. How Alice had likely been capturing them at some of their more personal or intimate moments. He couldn’t even imagine what that meant, but it must have been enough to incriminate him. “You must have them, too.”

Her tongue worked into her cheek, like she was debating how honest to be. “I keep the raw files. I have them on my computer back home,” she admitted. “Because I don’t trust anonymous emails. I don’t trust no prints, no receipts, no contracts. Nor do I trust you.”

“No contracts?” Lily asked, with a level of intensity that had James twisting to look at her. Read her wide eyes.

Alice raised a brow, casting her a purposeful look. “If a contract existed, that would mean I exist. And officially, I don’t.”

James' head rushed with the new information, trying to make sense of it. Not understanding at first why it felt so shockingly vital to know. Reaching for the less messy corners of his cluttered mind. “So they don’t actually own them,” he murmured under his breath.

It went quiet in the room. James and Lily’s stares were tensely locked. There was a silent communication happening, one James was sure he understood. An electric line running between their minds, sending the same signal to and from each other.

Lily took a deep breath. “James-”

“I know a lawyer,” he said suddenly, rushing to scrounge for his phone in the fold of the couch.

“What?” Alice’s eyes went wide, sitting up in her chair as she looked between the two of them. “What do you mean? What is going on?”

“Are you sure?” Lily came closer, leaning over him as he searched. “I mean, it’s just a hunch.”

“A hunch worth trying,” he said, still struggling until Lily finally grabbed the phone from behind a cushion and tossed it in front of him. “Thanks.”

“Are you suing me?!” Alice snapped.

“No,” Lily assured her. “Quite the opposite, Ms. Fortescue.”

Her face twisted, “The opposite?”

“We are going to secure your rights to those photos,” James told her, eyes on his phone as he typed in the search bar. “So that the Malfoys can’t use them.”

“No, you can’t do that,” she started to protest. Recognizable wetness crawling up into her voice. “I need this job. I have a baby. A partner. I can’t just-”

“Alice,” James came closer, putting a hand on her shoulder and watching her quiet. “We are going to take care of you. We are going to get you and your partner and your baby anything you might need.”

She was withholding tears, glossy-eyed and afraid. “How can I trust you?”

James took a deep breath, keeping his voice level. “Because, unlike the Malfoys, I have no problem signing a contract to guarantee it.”

James knew this was a stupid idea. He could hear Lily and Alice ordering food and a mechanic in the other room, but he was too busy pacing his bedroom carpet. He was biting his nails. Listening to the phone ring. Trying to conjure up the words he needed to say, but nothing eloquent or professional was coming to mind.

“Good afternoon, this is the office of Dorcas Meadowes. How can they assist you?”

“Hi, I need to speak to Dorcas,” he rushed to say. Reflexively biting his tongue at his near incomprehensibleness. “Please. If I may.”

“This is them,” the voice replied, cautiously upbeat.

“Oh, hello,” he tried to slow down. Closing his eyes and taking a breath to focus. “My name is James Potter and I’m calling-”

“Mr. Potter,” they stopped him. “You should not be calling me.”

“Excuse me?”

“As Mr. Black’s lawyer, I will have you know that speaking with you sounds dangerously close to a conflict of interest,” they told him. “And further more, if you are looking to take action against my client, I can tell you-”

“Oh god, no. I’m not looking to take any action against-” he blurted out. “No, I’m looking to…” he blinked trying to come up with the words. “Well, let’s just say I have someone in my living room that you, more than anyone should, talk to. So, if you would just hear me out-”

“Mr. Potter, again, you should not be calling me.”

“Please, Dorcas,” he pleaded, sinking down onto the edge of his bed as his grip on the phone went tighter. “For Reg’s sake. Hear me out.”

They paused, something pensive in their silence. “Continue,” they said blankly.

“I have the photographer that the Malfoys hired. The one that’s been following Reg for the past year. She’s in my living room.”

“Uhhh. How did you get her in your living room? Should I be calling the police?”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “She came willingly. Mostly.” He cringed. “Forget that. If I tell you something, can you promise not to tell Regulus?”

“I can do no such thing.”

James groaned. “Fine,” he conceded. “It’s about the Malfoys. They have the photos that this photographer took of me and Reg. And they have plans to sell them to the Seattle Times in order to-”

“They’ll be doing no such thing.”

James paused, hearing the sureness of their voice. “Yes, they will,” he affirmed. “Maybe you think this is like the other clients, Dorcas, but I can assure you, it’s not. This time it is personal for them.”

“The Malfoys will not be exposing you. They are already getting what they want,” they breathed a sigh, not sounding thrilled about it.

“What they want?” James’ brow crinkled, trying to understand. “The Black residence?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter,” they confirmed. “Regulus has me formalizing the paperwork now. He’ll be gifting the deed over to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy early next week.”

James felt his blood rush loud in his ear, standing to his feet as the world went momentarily dizzy. “Wait. How?” he argued. “Why? Why would he do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe he heard about a philanthropist whose career was about to be ruined. Maybe he wanted to do what he could to save him.”

The wind knocked out of James’ chest like he’d slipped down the stairs. He tried to take in another, but it all felt so useless. No amount of oxygen would suffice. He nearly wheezed, his vision spun. He knelt to the floor just to try and center himself, but still he was spinning and weak and unable to find solid ground.

Why would he do that?
Giving up the house?
Is this just a final blow? Some last chance at proving himself better than me?
That doesn’t sound like him. He’s not petty about stuff like this. Stuff that matters.
But then why?

“Dorcas,” he finally choked out. “You can’t let him do that.”

“I don’t like it either, James. Especially after how hard he and I have worked to thwart those assholes in the past. But this is what he wanted.”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, we have to figure something else out. I mean the Malfoys might have the photos, but so do we. And we could-”

“James,” they said firmly. “You don’t have the rights to those photos. If you do anything with them, the Malfoys could sue your ass for more than you’re worth.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” he desperately shouted. “The Malfoys don’t have the rights either!”

The line went silent. “What did you just say?”

He crawled to the edge of the bed, leaning into it just for support as the spinning slowed behind his eyes. “She never signed a contract with the Malfoys,” he panted. “She didn’t even know who they were. They were anonymous buyers. They’d email her what they needed, she would deliver, they’d drop the funds in her account. No contract. No rights. No papertrail.”

Dorcas was shuffling papers on the other side of the line. “What’s her name? This photographer?”

“Alice. Alice Fortescue.”

“Put her on the line.”

James pushed himself up, taking slow, unsteady steps out to the living room. Lily and Alice both looked up at him from where they were chatting on the couch. Their wide eyes begging the question. James clicked through his phone screen. “You are on speaker,” he told Dorcas.

“Is this Alice?” they asked, sounding sweeter than ever. Flicking a switch in their whole demeanor as if they were talking to a small child. “Hiiiii. Dorcas Meadowes. I represent Mr. Black.”

“Who?” Alice whispered to James.

“The kid,” he told her.

“Oh,” she nodded, clearing her throat. “Um. Hello.”

“Mr. Potter has just made me aware of the fact that you do not have a contract with the Malfoys. Is that correct?”

“Yep. I never signed a thing.”

“And you have access to the photos? The originals?” they asked.

“I keep all the raws on my computer back home.”

“Mhm,” they hummed. There was more shuffling. More pensive silence.

“Dorcas, what are you thinking?” James asked into the speaker, hoping it was the same thing he and Lily had thought.

“Alice,” they breathed. “Are the photos for sale?”

James breathed a sigh of relief. That Dorcas was seeing what they were. A chance. An opportunity.

Alice’s eyes flicked up to James standing over her. She swallowed something tight in her throat. “I think so,” she nodded. “To the right person. Someone fair and honest.”

“And do you think Mr. Potter could be the right person?” Dorcas asked.

Alice’s expression pulled tight, torn between hesitance and hope. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But I think I’m willing to find out.”

James’ heart swelled in his chest. He could have grabbed her and hugged her tight if he hadn't been worried about crushing her tummy.

“James, I need to get you on a video call,” Dorcas cut through. “We need to work this out ASAP.”

Night had fallen. The pizzas had been eaten. The tire had been replaced. And they were finally signing the contract that Dorcas had manically drafted. In it, James bought the rights to the photos, ensuring that they could not be used or sold without his permission. He also offered Alice a stipend moving forward. Enough to cover her rent, her partner’s care, her well-deserved maternity leave, plus more. Alice was thrumming with new found energy, smiling and laughing as she swiped another slice from the box.

Lily was rubbing a palm into her back, reassuring her that she’d made the right call. That she wouldn’t regret it.

James crossed the T’s of his surname with one line, sitting back and dropping the pen to the side. “I’ll copy them as soon as we hang up and send them over,” he assured Dorcas who was illuminated by a singular desk lamp in their otherwise dark office. It must have been nearly eleven in New York by now. “Can you forward a copy of this contract to the Malfoys tomorrow morning?”

“Oh, trust me, Mr. Potter,” they laughed. “I’ve never been more ready for that.”

“Then, it’s done,” he smiled. “The house stays with Regulus.”

Dorcas’ wide smile shrank. “Well,” they offered. “Not quite yet.”

“Not quite yet?” James leaned into the webcam. “What do you mean? Didn’t we do it? Didn’t we save the house? Our names? Didn’t we fix it?”

Dorcas fumbled with a document that was sitting in front of them, fingers fidgeting with the corner of the page. “This is the paperwork that Regulus already signed. The paperwork to transfer the deed.”

“Rip it up,” James shook his head. “Light it on fire. I don’t care what you do. Just destroy it.”

“I can’t,” they emphasized. “Not without my client’s expressed permission.”

James’ felt a heat burn in his face at the very thought of Regulus. Somewhere out there thinking that he’d lost it all. That the Malfoys had won. “Then just call him,” he demanded. “Tell him what happened. What we did today. Tell him to withdraw the paperwork.”

They looked uneasy, anxious beyond measure. “What I’m about to tell you is off the books. Got it?”

James’ stomach felt precariously close to dropping. “Just tell me, Dorcas.”

They reached for one of their dreads, threading it through their ringed fingers nervously. “When Regulus sent over his signed paperwork, he gave me explicit instructions. Told me he was going to be unreachable for the next few weeks as he readied himself for leaving the house. He said his phone wouldn’t be in service. He would be away from his emails. I was told not to get in touch with him.”

“Shit,” James rested his head in his hands, feeling Alice and Lily’s empathetic eyes on him. He tore his glasses from his face, casting them down onto the table, “Can’t you go down to his house? See if he’s there?”

“I can’t,” they reaffirmed. “I would be crossing boundaries in our professional relationship.”

“What about your friendship?” he narrowed his glare at them. “You’ve been friends since school, haven’t you?”

They sighed, not thrilled with the guilt trip. “James, I’ve helped you as much as I can. But I have limitations in what I can do,” they told him calmly. “You were the one who found Alice. You bought the rights. So you need to find him and redact the papers before I am legally bound to process them on Monday.”

James didn’t like it. Didn’t like it one bit. It had been less than twenty four hours since James had stood across from Regulus and told him to leave. It didn’t make sense for him to be chasing him again. He’d all but promised himself he’d never chase Regulus again.

“You’re not doing it for you, James,” Lily said, breaking through his turbulent thoughts. “It’s for him. Even if it’s a parting gift, it’s for him.”

James looked at her, not understanding how she could read his thoughts. He repeated her words in his head, until they were able to quiet the voice of anxiety. The voice that said that doing this was just a self-serving means to see Regulus, deliver the good news. He had to repeat it again.

I’m not doing it for me. I’m doing it because it is the right thing to do.

He stood from the island, looking over at the laptop. “Dorcas,” he swallowed. “I’ll get his signature. Whatever I need to do, I’ll get it. Before Monday. You have my word.”

They took a deep breath, shaking their head in near disbelief. “You have seventy-two hours,” they told him. “Good luck, Mr. Potter.”

The rushed feeling in James’ chest didn’t stop when he buckled in on the plane. It didn’t stop when the wheels hit the ground in New York. It didn’t stop when the taxi pulled in front of the Black residence. When James knocked once to no response. Twice. Three times.

Fall had arrived in the city and the streets were lined with red and orange trees that were embellishing the concrete with color. It was windy as hell, tousling the edges of James’ denim jacket as he struggled to pull the keys from his pocket, picking through them until he found Regulus’. He couldn’t think about what he’d say, what he’d do once they were face to face again. He couldn’t fathom what he might be walking into. All he could think about was the need to see Regulus, to stop him from making another grand mistake he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for.

When the lock finally gave way, James slipped into the doorway, ignoring the push and pull that was telling him he didn’t belong there, that he had been told to never come back. But as his eyes adjusted to the dim foyer, they widened, scoping around the space and feeling no rug underfoot. The portraits on the walls were sitting, wrapped in plastic on the floor. The grandfather clock was taped up, ready to be moved. James felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach.

He hurried up the stairs. “Regulus!” he yelled, hearing it echo in a way it never did before. “Regulus!” But when he cleared the landing, the second story was just the same. A living room scattered with boxes. A kitchen cleared. Walls eerily empty. And it was haunting in the most awful way.

He didn’t stop, forcing up to the next level and pushing open the bedroom door. It was more intact than the rest of the rooms, the bed neatly made at the center of the room. Boxes half filled with clothes and decor. A messily scribbled “Master Bedroom” in black ink. But there was no Regulus. There was no one. He was gone.

James’ breath stuttered in his chest, like he could feel the breaker in his body about to flip and start hyperventilating. But instead, he leaned himself into the dresser, closing his eyes and forcing his breaths to go steady, mind to go quiet for just a moment. The house barely carried Regulus’ scent anymore. Because it was being packed away, never to be here again. A singular question rang out louder than any other thoughts.

What do I do?

The answer dawned on him, eyes shooting open as he hurried to take a seat on the edge of the bed. He drew out his phone, opening up a specific app and letting his eyes skate down a gallery of photos. Bodies of all designs shown in technicolor, lighting up his face as his exacting stare scrolled and scrolled. He knew what he was looking for. Who he was looking for.

He finally found it. Further down the page. Four miles away. Black and gray tattoos skirting up a lean frame. James would have recognized the designs anywhere. Remembering them peeking out of the cracks of an emerald green robe.

Killer Bee. 30. Greatest City On Earth.
I take card to get you hard.

“Oh my fucking god, Barty,” James scoffed, before copying the username and swiping into a money transfer app. He pasted it in, pulling up the same photo as the dating app. He loaded up a thousand dollars, sending it over with a memo that simply stated his own username. When it was sent, James let the phone screen fall to his chest as he lay back onto the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, remembering the way it looked from this vantage point. Liking it better when his dick was in Regulus’ mouth.

There was a subtle vibration against him a moment later. He rushed to look at it.

Well, well, well. A new player has entered the game.

James’ fingers began to fly across the keys.

Please, I need you.

James watched the ellipses flash. Remembering when it was this simple. When the flirtatious banter and eager pleading was enough to keep Regulus happy. James wished it was him on the other side.

That’s obvious. What do you need from me, you desperate little thing?

I need to hear your voice. I would do anything for it.

The ellipses was slower to react. Popping up and going away three times before a message finally came through.

Is that all? You’re so goddamn easy. But that doesn’t mean I won’t make you work for it. Afterall, I need you to show me how bad you want it.

James sighed, flipping to the other app and adding another zero to his original offer. So bad. he wrote in the memo alongside his phone number.

It must have been convincing enough, because a call from an NYC number was coming through just a few seconds later.

“Hello?” James asked, raising the phone to his ear as he sat up in the bed.

“Hey, stranger,” Barty’s voice purred through the speaker. Distant noises of the city streets played in the background like white noise. “Who do I owe pleasure?”

“Barty, hey, it’s James,” he rushed to say. “I need your help.”

There was a beat of silence, of brutal shock. “Oh, fuck you,” Barty cursed in a completely dissimilar tone. “Of fucking course it’s you.”

“Listen. I don’t have time for banter-”

“Those aren’t your abs, right? In the profile photos?”

“Not now,” James clenched his jaw tight. “I said I need your help.”

“Answer my question first,” Barty challenged.

He rolled his eyes with a groan, “Of course, they’re mine. Who would use pictures of someone else on their own profile?”

“Jesus, Jimmy. Have you never heard of the internet?”

“This isn’t important,” he slipped a hand across his eyes. “Barty, I need to know where Regulus is. It’s an emergency.”

“Let me guess. You need your dick in something right now or that chiseled frame of yours will combust into a pile of inherited money.”

“Enough with the jokes!” he screamed, hearing it echo through the emptied home. “Please,” he pleaded, somewhat miserably. “Please, I’m trying to help him.”

“You?” Barty scoffed from deep in his throat. “How could you possibly help him?”

James gritted his teeth together, getting more and more irritated. “Did you know he was moving?”

There was an uncharacteristic silence across the line, only the chatter of the background passerbyers, the honking taxis ringing in James’ ear. “I know everything, James.”

“Well, I have been working with Dorcas,” he told him. “We found a way to save his house, keep it his. But. I need to get in contact with him or else it is all going to shit and the Malfoys are going to be moving in on Monday.”

There was a hesitancy in the quiet, a heavy deliberation that made James briefly wonder if Barty would dismiss him and hang up. “Fine,” the man finally breathed, crackling into the phone. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the house,” James said, looking around again. “And-and there are all these moving boxes and his furniture is wrapped. And he’s gone. It’s clear he hasn’t been here for awhile and-”

“Meet me at the cafe that’s two blocks south. Order me a cappuccino. Oat milk. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

James blinked, he nodded. “O-okay,” he stuttered. “And you’ll send back the 11k, right?”

Barty sighed, most dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll send it back.”

It was twice as blustery at the cafe Barty had picked. An outdoor spot with a walk-up window, iron chairs and bistro tables scattered all the way to the sidewalk. Folks cosplaying as elites sat with their frothy mugs, the wind tousling their cashmere scarfs as they bundled their coats twice as tight. James wished he’d brought a thicker coat, not having even checked the weather before assuming it would have been the same as the last time he’d been. But in those days, so much had changed and winter had been well on its way to the city. Leaving him nearly shivering in a denim jacket and turtleneck.

James was staring at his phone where he’d tried to text Regulus three times, but each one had gone unsent. The calls weren’t going through. It was just as Dorcas said. Like the Earth had been wiped clean on him. It stirred unease in James that wouldn’t lay quiet.

Barty rounded the corner, looking around before his eyes went to James. He had a thinly pulled smile, a pair of dark sunglasses, an ankle length trench that made him look like he’d rolled off the pages of the Rolling Stone. He plopped into the seat across from James, pushing the glasses up into his cropped hair as he reached for the mug set out in front of him. “You sure this isn’t a latte?” he grumbled with a tired sigh.

“Talk to me,” James asked, not waiting another moment. “Tell me where he is.”

“No, no. Not so fast,” he pulled a box of cigarettes from his coat pocket, tapping them onto the table. “I need to talk to you first.”

James narrowed his eyes, not in the mood for his antics, “About what?”

He drew one from the carton, pulling it to his lips as he lit it. An elegant plume of smoke dissipated in the fall wind. “I need to know. Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?”

Barty rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair to kick his feet up on the table, “Cause if this is some big scheme to win Regulus back-”

“Win him back?” James’ expression twisted up tight. “I don’t know if you heard, but he broke up with me. Made it implicitly clear that he wasn’t interested in giving me his heart. So I don’t think winning him back is on the table,” he grunted as he pushed Barty’s feet to the floor.

Barty watched him through vacant eyes, taking another long drag. “Then why are you doing this, James?”

“I’m doing this for him,” he said surely. “I’m doing this because he has one thing to his name and no one should take it away from him. Especially not his god awful family who have already tried to take everything else away from him.”

Barty shrugged, inspecting a nail, “And yet you happen to be best friends with someone in that family.”

James winced at the mention of Sirius. Remembering his friend’s expression when the hurt had outweighed the anger and he’d given up on their argument. “This isn’t about Sirius,” he told him. “Let’s just leave him out of it.”

“Oh, I see,” Barty smiled pointedly. “You and the brother having a lover’s quarrel?”

“He’s married,” James countered, before falling weak again. Looking down to his hands in his lap. “But yes, we aren’t exactly speaking right now.”

“Let me guess?” Barty leaned over, tapping the end of his cigarette on the edge of the table. “Doesn’t like that you were desecrating his baby brother?”

It conjured Regulus’ laugh in his head, his smiling voice. Please. If anything, I’m doing the desecrating.

Barty sighed wistfully, placing the filter between his lips again with a small shake of his head. “I knew it was all going to shit as soon as Reggie told me,” he admitted through an exhale. “I always told him you keep clients at an arm’s reach. And you certainly don’t mix pleasure with family. There are boundaries for a reason. He was good at that part for a long time. Until you came around-”

“Is that why you’ve always been so against me, Barty? Because I went against everything you taught him?” James glared. “Or was it because you were in love with him?”

Barty winced uncharacteristically, face pulling like he had a nasty flavor on his tongue. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he challenged. “You were fucking my boyfriend for the entirety of our relationship.”

“Not the entirety.”

James bit back the fierce words on his tongue, watching as Barty’s typically haughty expression went timid, reflecting deeply inward instead of outward. It spoke the words before he said them.

“We stopped,” he admitted with surprising candor. “After the last time I saw you. He told me we aren’t doing that anymore.”

James remembered that morning, remembering them talking in low voices in the kitchen. Remembering when Barty slammed that door to leave. Was it then that Regulus had ended it? Or was it later? The day of the event while James was setting up? After? After they’d broken up? He wanted to know, but the tints of grief wearing heavy in Barty’s stony expression made him rethink asking. “Nothing has happened since then? Even after we-”

“Nothing,” he tapped his ash in the table’s edge again before biting into his thumb, deftly balancing the smoldering cigarette between his long fingers. Looking more sad, more guilty than James had ever imagined he could be. “I don’t know what you told him. But it was enough to have him swearing off something we’d been doing for close to a decade. So, good on you, I guess.”

“I didn’t tell him to stop,” he shook his head. “I swear, I didn’t.”

Barty looked at him, disbelief behind his hollow stare. “What did you say then?”

James felt a flush of heat crawl up his neck, not sure if Barty was moments away from diving across the table to choke him out. “I told him he was using you,” he admitted, trying to keep his voice level. “That he was taking advantage of your feelings. Being a shit friend in the process. Was I wrong?”

Barty watched him still. Trying to read something on him. “No,” he said simply.

“But that doesn’t mean I told him to-”

“Jimmy,” he sunk his cigarette into the iron table, extinguishing it with a hiss. “I get it.”

He couldn’t help but feel guilty. Wondering momentarily if Barty deserved Regulus more than he did. Afterall, the man had been at Regulus’ side longer. Been with him through so much. Protected him in ways that James could only have dreamed of.

“I’m guessing it's the same for the clients?” Barty raised a brow from behind the edge of his mug before taking a sip.

“What about the clients?”

The man rolled his eyes, gesticulating with the mug as he spoke, “I’m sure you told Reggie something introspective and thoughtful and perfect that managed to get through to him more than I ever could. And that’s why he stopped seeing them too.”

“No, that’s wrong,” he corrected. “Regulus hasn’t stopped seeing clients. He saw one just a couple days ago in Seattle.”

“Oh, Jimmy,” Barty tutted his tongue against his teeth as he put the mug down. “You’re so naive. It’s adorable.”

“Don’t call me that,” he brushed him off. “When was the last time he saw clients?”

Barty drew in a deep breath as his face went pensive, finally sighing with a miniscule shake of his head, “I don’t know. I think his last one might have been Toronto?”

“But that was well over a month ago.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “He told me he was done. That it didn’t interest him anymore.”

James sat back, thinking. Wondering if Regulus would have boldly lied to his face. And if he had, why? What would it have rewarded him? His thoughts ran wild, threatening to spiral him some place dark, before he snapped back into the moment. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m just being a loud mouth,” he offered simply. “Can’t help myself sometimes.”

“No, you aren’t. You want me to know. Why?”

Barty’s gaze traced down James’ face, up to his eyes again. His expression tried to stay placid, eventually failing him, breaking into something softer, more vulnerable. “He’s my best friend,” he admitted with far too much tender sincerity to be the same snarky boy. “More than that.”

“I know,” James nodded.

“Reggie’s been hurting. For a long time,” he fidgeted, eyes drawn away. Looking like a fragile, self-conscious version of himself that James would have never cast in the same role. “But watching how he’s changed since he met you. It’s… hard,” he acknowledged. “He’s stepped away from the clients. He’s putting the Malfoys in the rearview. He’s taking care of himself, advocating for himself,” he shrugged with near disbelief. “All the things I wanted for him. But I had always imagined it would be me. That I would be the one to heal him.”

James leaned closer, drawing their gazes together. “It couldn’t have been you, Barty,” he shook his head. “Because he had to do it himself. He had to figure it out for himself.”

“Maybe so,” Barty swallowed whatever emotion was threatening to surface. “But I just wanted it to be me. For so long, I tried everything-”

“Barty, don’t,” James interjected. “He speaks so highly of you. He’s so grateful for you. For all you’ve done. Please. Don’t think for a moment that any of it went unnoticed.”

Barty looked at him again, the corner of his mouth giving a nearly imperceptible twitch upward. “See, you’re doing it.”

“Doing what?”

His smile stretched wider now, more gratuitous. “As soon as I met you, I saw it. I saw exactly what Reggie needed. Not in me, but in you. Do you know how infuriating that was to see?” he gave a choked laugh.

James felt the attention swivel back to him, suddenly uncomfortable with the weight of Barty’s impassioned words bearing down on him. “I think you’re mistaken,” he rushed to say. “We clearly aren’t right for each other. Because if we were, he’d be sitting across from me right now. Not you. Don’t you think?”

Barty didn’t answer, just watched him carefully. “And you’re okay with that? Okay with not being with him?”

“I’m anything but okay,” he confessed. “But I’m also not going to act like the foremost authority on what he needs. Because whatever happiness means for him, he gets to be the one to define it.”

The man didn’t speak for a long time, holding his stare with something warm curling in the browns of his eyes. Glimmering in the midmorning light. “You should find him,” he said with ultimate certainty.

“Then tell me where he is.”

Barty groaned, scratching at the short buzzed hairs on the back of his neck, “God. He’s going to kill me when he finds out I told you.”

“He’ll kill me first,” James shrugged. “So, at least you’ll have a head start.”

“Here,” Barty grabbed a napkin off the table, stealing a pen from the pocket of his coat and uncapping it with his mouth. He started to scribble across it, muttering around the pen cap, “He’s in France.”

“France?” James’ eyes widened. Not sure what he was expecting, but not thinking he would have needed that passport in the bottom of his backpack. “And he’s just cut off his phone service? Lost the password to his email?”

“Yeah, he does that when he goes over there,” Barty offered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“How often does he go?”

“When he needs to be alone alone,” he explained, passing him the napkin and recapping the pen. “There is a small village called Brantôme. There’s a château there. Ask around town for Monsieur Théo Tonks. You find Théo, you find Reggie.”

James held the napkin in his hand, seeing the village name scrawled across it. “And who is Théo?” he raised a brow. “Please don’t say another friend with benefits.”

Barty chuckled, the white of his smile shining back. “Go and find out,” he nodded. “I mean, Malfoys are moving in on Monday, right? So, you better fucking hurry.”

James’ eyes briefly flicked to his watch, feeling the imminence of the Monday deadline racing towards him again. “Right. Yes, I am,” he pushed away from the table, nearly stumbling over himself to get up. He stopped for a moment, meeting the man’s eyes one last time. They were warm brown, syrupy sweet and kind when he wasn’t trying so hard to be a sarcastic dick. And in them, James saw everything Regulus had once found aspirational about the man. “Thanks, Barty,” he leaned in, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Seriously. I owe you one.”

“Wait, no,” the man pouted, reaching up to grab the front of James’ jacket. “Do that again and let me turn my head.”

James laughed, backing out of his grasp. “Next time, I promise,” he nodded, before taking off down the street.

Chapter Text

James put the folder of Dorcas’ documents safely in his backpack, checking manically the whole way to France. Three flights, two layovers, a train ride in which he was shaken awake by a hostile train attendant for fogging up the window with his jet-lag-drenched spittle. He arrived in the village by mid-morning, though he wouldn’t have known day from night if the sun hadn’t been showering light through the trees as they glimmered with soft autumnal tones in their leaves.

He went to three different cafes. Stumbling through conversations of butchered English and French. Chateau. Monsieur Théo Tonks. S'il vous plaît. He eventually got a point down a road that split off from the village square and its wide river, motioned to keep going and going. Not knowing how long that would be.

It ended up being a twenty minute walk as he passed by open land, rolling hills and lush trees. Twenty minutes until he stumbled upon a gated house. Palatial and grand. Soft blue and white with ivy snaking up the facade. Too big to be quaint, but too charming to be opulent. Something entirely in the middle. A sign at the gate identified it.

Chateau de Tonks.

James peeked between the posts in the iron and stone fence. He could see the lawn bustling with people. Men in white shirts and jeans carrying things from trucks. Building things. He stood on the edge of the fence, trying to work up his voice. “Hello!” he shouted towards them. “Bonjour! Excuse me!”

A couple of men heard him, looking over and talking amongst themselves briefly before one of them approached the gate with a quizzical look in his eye. “Bonjour?” he offered.

“Um…” James’ stomach churned. “I’m trying to find Théo? Théo Tonks?”

The man crossed his arms over his chest. Replying sharply, something incomprehensible.

“Sorry,” James winced. “Can I…” he tried to point up to the house.

“Non,” he said, a shake of his head. He kept repeating a word. James didn’t know what it meant.

“But-”

He elevated his voice, getting annoyed, before waving him away and turning back towards the work.

James sighed, reaching for his phone. Trying his best to spell out the word phonetically into the translation tab. “Wedding,” he read under his breath. His chest stirred with nerves, not understanding. Regulus was at a wedding? What?

He took a look at the set up, noting the tent. The chairs. The flowers. Maybe it was a wedding. But whose? He didn’t drive himself any crazier, instead deciding to walk back towards the village to hatch a new plan. He had to get in. Maybe he would wait till the night came, sneak up over the fence. It was a historic home. Surely they wouldn’t have security, a camera, an alarm? Right?

He took a seat at a cafe, ordering himself lunch and devouring it. Maybe he could talk to the cafe owner. Maybe someone in the village knew Théo. Maybe they could get James in. He whipped out his phone, trying to type out a message to translate.

“Lovely little wedding at the Chateau,” someone scoffed in a dry English accent. “Whose idea was that?”

“Molly’s of course,” a man replied in a soft, nearly apologetic tone. “She loves France. Always dreamed a countryside wedding here.”

James raised his eyes from his phone, looking up at a group of three that were two tables away. Two men with shaggy blonde hair, while the other was a stark ginger. All roughly James’ age. Thick English accents.

“Ah,” the other blonde laughed, slapping the red-haired man on the back. “You’re such a pushover, Arthur. Of course you shelled out the dough for it.” The two blondes sounded like they nearly had one voice that they shared, nearly indiscernible from each other.

He nearly choked on his wine, coughing through his words, “Actually, her parents paid for-”

“Right. Not much for a wedding on a teacher’s salary, I assume,” one of the blondes suggested, nose scrunching up with a smug grin.

“Come on, Bill,” the man knocked his shoulder. “Let’s find a real drink. It’s going to be a long trip.”

“It’s my wedding,” the ginger mustered, nearly under his breath, but it went unheard as the two men seemed to run off. James caught sight of their faces and saw the inarguable similarities in their features. They must have been twins. He looked back, watching the man slump into his seat with a sigh.

James’ thoughts went wild, perhaps fueled by that jetlag and tangible desperation. His ears perked to the topic of conversation, scooting a hair closer before he spoke. “You’re getting married?” he asked. “Is that what I heard?”

The man looked up from his glumness, mouth managing to spread a smile at the sound of a familiar language. “Yes,” he nodded. “Tomorrow actually.”

James leaned over the back of his chair, narrowing his eyes, “At the Tonks Chateau down the road?”

“Yes, do you know it?”

“Yeah, actually,” James swallowed. “I… well…Theo and I are good friends.”

“Theo?” his face scrunched tight in confusion before easing with realization. “You mean Ted? Ted Tonks?”

James blinked, “Oh, sure. Yes. Ted.”

The man nodded, “He seems nice. Nice little family, those three. They’ve been ever so accommodating. Even when my brothers are… well, less than cordial.”

James looked on in the direction the twins had taken off. “I noticed,” he huffed. “I mean how did you manage to pick a best man between those shining examples of masculine compassion and empathy.”

The man managed to chuckle despite himself, fidgeting with his cap in his hands. “I didn’t actually,” he admitted. “Just resigned myself to not having one.”

James stopped, looking at him closely. His neat tweed suit and woolen sweater. His kind face and large hands. He rose up from his seat, taking one of the chair’s at the man’s table. “You don’t have any other friends?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the table.

“I do,” he nodded, growing slightly defensive. “But they are mostly women. You see, I work as a professor. Gender studies. Not exactly a gathering place for many cisgender men. Which my brothers find easy enough to mock.”

James could see the shame sewn into his expression. Imagining him at the butt of every joke. “Well, I think it’s amazing that you are in gender studies.”

He looked up, light eyes brightening. “Do you really?”

“Of course,” he smiled. “I work in nonprofits, social justice. So I know what it’s like. To be in a field that directly addresses and forces you to deconstruct your own privileges? Your brothers wouldn’t handle a day having to stare critically at themselves in the mirror like that. It’s admirable.”

“Yes, exactly,” the man lit up, adjusting himself to sit closer. “You get it. It’s-It’s difficult, but necessary! Thank you!”

“Of course.” He extended his hand, “James.”

“Arthur,” he shook it excitedly.

James looked him over. Saw his innocence, his enthusiasm. He empathized with him, Wishing better for him. Head ran away with that idea until something boomeranged back. Something absurd. “Arthur?” he narrowed his eyes. “Would you… want a best man?”

He stared blankly. “Pardon?”

“I mean… if you needed a ‘school friend’. Just to… I don’t know… add buffer, between you and those god awful brothers,” he suggested. “Afterall, no one should be talked down to like that on what should be the happiest day of their life.”

Arthur stared at him for a long time, sizing him up. “How much?” he asked. “You know I’m sort of short on funds as the wedding was-”

“Arthur, no,” James stopped him, putting a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to pay me.”

He looked even more suspicious now. “Is this some sort of strange, American con?”

“Not a con,” he assured him. “I’m in town to visit my friend, Ted. Already had plans to join him at the Chateau. So I’ll join for the wedding too.”

“Have you done this before?”

“Be the best man? Yeah,” he nodded. “I was the best man at my best friend’s wedding. I know what to do.”

“No, have you been a… well, a fake best man.”

James pursed his lips, thinking briefly, “I can’t say I have. But I’m in the business of helping. And you seem like someone who could use help.”

Arthur looked away, processing for a long moment. “Oh, god,” he shook his head. “This is ridiculous. What would I even say? Molly would see right through it.”

“Just that your friend from school was able to make it at the last minute,” he urged. “I can take care of the rest. No one needs to know we just met.”

He ran a hand across his face, before pointing a finger to James, “Molly can’t know. She’s been dreaming of this day since she was a little girl. I won’t do anything to comprise it being anything but perfect for her.”

James saw how serious he was. How important this woman was to him. It made him smile softly. “I completely understand wanting to give someone you love the world. And I won’t let anything interfere in that,” he promised.

Arthur looked nervous still, pensive and skittish. “You’ll need a suit. Good thing I packed an extra. And a clean shave. Molly can’t stand facial hair.”

James could tell he was getting somewhere, nodding along. “I can manage that.”

He still seemed unsure, but nevertheless, held out his hand. “You’ve got yourself a groom,” he affirmed. “Or… not a groom. But you know. I’m not your groom, I’m-”

“Arthur,” James laughed. “I got it.”

“Right,” he breathed, looking slightly dizzied by the transaction. “Well, perhaps we should be heading back to the chateau then.”

“Right,” James cleared his throat. “Sure. Theo-I mean Ted. Ted will be expecting me. Anytime now. So I better go see him.”

“He won’t tell anyone, right?” Arthur’s expression wavered back into nervousness.

“No, no. Ted would never,” James said, not knowing at all who Ted even was. “Your secret is safe. I promise.”

Arthur processed that a little longer. “Lovely,” he eventually blinked. “Well, then. Let’s get a move on.”

James and Arthur spent the better part of their walk back to the chateau going over impromptu their backstory, in which James had studied abroad during his school days and met Arthur. They made nicknames, Jammer and Art, under Arthur’s advising. Discussed sports they would have played together during fall days in the park. Classes they would have had and the professors that would have been memorable. They talked until the memories felt real enough. Until James was the friend he was pretending to be.

As soon as they entered the gates, with a suspicious nod from the groundskeeper as he seemed to be putting two and two together about James being in the wedding party, the two were bombarded.

“Arthur Weasley!” screeched a voice from the house as they wove through the garden. “I’ve been looking for you!”

James raised his eyes as a redhead in a berry colored cardigan set flew down the stairs, followed by two older women with similar coloring. A wave of intense energy followed her, hot as fire when she stopped in front of them.

“Your brothers came back a half hour ago. They said you’d called off the wedding. That you were fleeing the country!”

Arthur’s shoulders fell. “Molly, my dolly. Nonsense,” he chuckled, pulling her close into his arms. “You can’t listen to those morons. They are just trying to wind you up.”

“Of course they were,” she rolled her eyes. “But then, Bill said he’d forgotten his trousers for the suit and-”

“Again, they are just messing with you. I packed them myself,” he encouraged softly. “You have nothing to worry about. I promise you.” He kissed into her hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fly off the handle. It’s just the wedding is tomorrow and-”

“And come hell or high water, we will be married,” Arthur told her. “And it will be perfect because it will be us, remember? That’s why we are doing this, right?”

“Right,” she seemed to exhale, corners of her mouth pulling up as her eyes went to James. “Oh, hello,” she turned, charm and warmth ignited as if she’d never been upset in the first place. “And who might you be?”

“Oh, yes,” Arthur clapped, reaching over to lace an arm around James’ shoulder. “This is our most distinguished guest.”

“Guest?” her eyes widened. “I thought we had no more room for guests. Two-hundred thirty-nine. That was the list. I counted it twice. And you promised no more guests.”

“James is different,” he assured her. “James is my best man. My schoolmate. We go way back.”

Her face scrunched, looking a bit like a gingery cat on the verge of a sneeze. “I don’t remember hearing about a James. And certainly not as your best man.”

“Well, to be fair, I thought it was a flight of fancy. You see, James lives over in America, don’t you, James?”

“Yes,” he nodded eagerly. “Seattle actually.”

“Yes, Seattle! Exactly!” Arthur cheered. “And I was sure that he’d never be able to make it. He’s extremely busy after all. Runs an outstanding organization. Everything. But it turns out he was able to fly in at the last minute and stand next to me on the most important day of my life.”

“Anything for you, Art,” James patted his back. “And I am so sorry about the tardiness of my RSVP. I assure you, Molly, I am nothing but thrilled to be here. You are going to be the most beautiful bride. My friend is so very lucky to be marrying you.”

Her face warmed, her confusion slipping away. “Well, then,” she smiled. “Maybe the more the merrier. James, dear, why don’t you take your things up to the main house and find your room. Arthur and I need to meet with the officiant and mark up our positions for the ceremony tomorrow. Come along, darling.”

James waved them off, continuing on towards the house. Staring up at it as if it was a reverent place he was lucky to gain admission to. He slipped into the front door, looking up around him. The ceilings were tall, palatial and grand in every way. A sweeping staircase with intricate tile across the floors. James deposited his bag at the bottom of the stairs, keeping his backpack on his shoulders that held the enclosed folder of Dorcas’ documents, as he tried to listen for the sounds of life. Because James knew he needed to find Regulus, preferably before anyone else found James.

He climbed up the staircase, peeking into the guestrooms that lined the floor. Most were already occupied, with luggage and suits laid out in preparation for the wedding to come. James kept going, trying to look for anything of Regulus’ he might recognize from the rooms. He was coming up empty until he heard footsteps coming from somewhere above his head. He strained his ears to hear, unsure if he could pick out the man by his footsteps, and when it proved futile, he found the additional staircase that spiraled up to the third floor.

Up there was an attic of sorts. But it was far from empty. Instead, it was piled high with bedding and pillows organized in neat shelves. Baskets of small toiletries and goodies. James figured this must be where the owners kept the extra things to turn over the rooms between guests. And at the fear of running into a housestaff or perhaps Theo himself, James hurried back down the spiral stairs to the second floor. He kept his eyes on the third floor, stepping slowly to ensure he couldn’t hear those footsteps overhead follow him. And not looking where he was going, he ran face first into someone coming up the stairs.

He whipped his head around, coming face to face with a wide-eyed Regulus. The man was barefoot, casual in a pair of light wash denim and a charcoal gray sweater. His curls ever so slightly overgrown from how James remembered them. He watched as he stepped back, looking up at James on the stairs and paralyzed by the sight of him. As if this was the last place he would have expected him.

“What are you-”

“Reg,” James breathed, before letting him speak another word. “We need to talk.”

Regulus’ dumbfounded expression molted to annoyance. “We have talked. We’ve talked enough,” he turned away, walking straight down the hallway.

James chased after him, grabbing onto his arm to try to pull his attention back, “No, about the house. Your house.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, running the heel of his hand up his forehead. He looked back at James. “Who told you?” he demanded. “Because I told them all to not intervene. But damn them, those petulant, spoiled little-”

“It’s not important who told me. What’s important is-”

“Listen, I’m sorry you wasted your precious time and money flying over here,” he shook his head. “All because you thought you could out-chivalry me or whatever the fuck you get off on. But just forget it. It’s over. I signed the deed away. There’s no going back.”

James’ voice rushed, “No, listen to me-”

“Reggie,” someone singsonged from above, a woman. It was coming from the top of the spiral staircase. A string of French trailing down like music, beautiful yet incoherent to James’ ears. The footsteps from above started to descend down the stairs.

James looked back to Regulus, watching the panic flood his expression. The man groaned, “Come on. Get in here.”

James looked over his shoulder towards the source of the voice. “Who is it?” he asked. “Whose house is this, Reg? Who is Theo? Or Ted? What is his name even?”

“Just get in,” he grunted, shutting him into one of the bedrooms.

James felt the slam of the door in his face, pressing himself up against it to try and hear. He heard those footsteps meet the second floor hallway. Heard Regulus speaking back in fluent French. Had he ever known he spoke French? The other voice was a woman. They only spoke for a few quick exchanges before the two of them were walking down the rest of the hallway towards the first floor staircase. When their voices were out of earshot, James exhaled, taking notice of the room around him.

It was undoubtedly Molly’s room, from the bright floral luggage to the cream gown hanging from the bar of the canopy bed. Her dress was undoubtedly stunning. A ballgown of buttercream and embellishment that was fit for any girl living out her princess fantasy. James momentarily wondered how long he would be trapped here. If Regulus would come back for him. Or perhaps, Molly would get to him first. That might be a touch awkward.

From behind him, he heard a rummaging sound. He looked over, towards the corner of the room where a vanity sat. Sitting upon the stool was a small girl. Only about five or six. She was staring wide-eyed at James in the reflection of the mirror. A string of pearls around her neck, a too big tiara tilted in her streaky purple hair.

“Hello,” James said, taking a cautious step forward. “Who might you be?”

She turned towards him to look, a captive confusion laced in her small features. “Why are you in here?”

He smiled at the tinge of French accent in her English. “I could ask you the same,” he shrugged. “Is that your jewelry to be playing in?”

She looked slightly panicked, starting to remove the tiara from her head. “Who are you?” she asked, placing the pieces back on the vanity carefully.

“I’m James,” he said, squatting to her level. “Who are you?”

“Dora.”

“Dora,” he smiled. “Lovely name. Are you with the wedding?”

She shook her head.

He had figured enough by her accent. “Is your dad’s name Theo or Ted?”

“Both. Theo if you’re French. Ted if you’re English. Teddy if you’re Mommy.”

“I see. And how about Regulus?” he raised a brow. “Do you know him?”

“Uncle Reggie?”

“Uncle,” his eyes widened. “I see. Well, how about we take you back to your mother downstairs and I don’t mention that you were playing in Molly’s jewelry,” he held a hand towards her.

“I’d like that,” she nodded, more eagerly, slipping her hand into his.

They walked together back to the first floor, Dora leading James deeper into the house. He picked back up on the sound of that conversation between Regulus and the woman. Hearing it grow louder the deeper they went until they had reached the kitchen with its extensive trimwork and arches that swept across the ceiling. Regulus and the woman were standing at the island where she was trimming flowers into a vase. She had dark hair, fair skin, a hint of goldeness to her that shown in the warm light from outside. Shown in the gorgeous pink roses and bright red dahlias that filled the whole room with their fresh scent.

The woman’s eyes flicked towards the girl, then to James. She stared, a French question rolling off her tongue. James opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. He looked to Regulus, trying to communicate for help.

She looked towards Regulus too, repeating her question.

Regulus looked taken aback, gaze moving between them. “He’s…”

“James,” Dora said confidently.

“James?” the woman’s eyes widened, her French accent falling away.

“Y-yes,” he nodded, swallowing down the last of his hesitance. “I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you. I just arrived. I'm the best man. For Arthur Weasley’s wedding.”

“Oh,” she blinked, hands pulling away from the flowers as she wiped them on her linen pants. “My apologies. He didn’t mention he had one.”

“Well, it was a bit of a last minute thing,” he tried to smile, shrugging off the awkwardness.

She stuck out her hand towards him, “I’m Andy. My husband and I own the chateau.”

“Andy,” he nodded, shaking her hand. “Lovely to meet you.”

“And I see you’ve met my daughter,” she sighed, motioning the girl back and lifting her up to sit her on the edge of the island. “Sorry, if she was sneaking up on you.”

“No,” he mirrored Dora’s smile. “If anything, I was sneaking up on her.”

“And I don’t know if you met my cousin, Regulus,” she stepped aside, beckoning towards him. “He’s staying in the guesthouse at the moment.”

The guesthouse. Cousin. It was adding up now. James ran his tongue across his teeth, “Actually-”

“We know each other,” Regulus blurted out as his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Andy looked back at her cousin, brows crinkling in the middle, “You do?”

“Yes,” he struggled to keep his eyes anywhere salient. “This is… well, it’s… James.”

“James as in…,” Andy blinked again. Looking towards him. Her eyes running down the length of him with a far different amount of inspection now. Looking like she was putting pieces together. But still had many questions.

James felt overexposed, wondering just what thoughts his name conjured for her. “I see my reputation precedes me,” he tried to joke. “I hope for the best. Though… perhaps not. Considering.”

“My apologies,” Andy animated again, twisting a flower stem in her fingers.“I was just… Regulus. Why don’t you show our guest to his room?”

The man looked to her blankly, shaking his head, “He’s not staying here. He’s going back to Seattle and-”

Andy snapped back something in French through gritted teeth, a tilt in her brow that looked all too familiar. James wondered where he’d seen it before. Regulus murmured back, the shape of his mouth so pretty when he was angrily speaking French. James watched it, mesmerized. Whatever argument they were having, it seemed done when Andy quipped a retort that had Regulus quietly fuming. That pretty mouth left open for a response that never came.

The man groaned, leaning up off the island. “Come on,” he muttered, weaving past James out of the room.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” James said, head swiveling between them. “I’m sure I can find my room myself.”

“James,” Andy said, gathering her daughter on her hip with a smug grin. “I don’t want to pull you away from the festivities. But we’d love to host you for dinner tonight. My husband, Ted, and I. Reggie, too. We always try to have a big hearty meal the night before an event.”

“I-I don’t want to intrude,” James said, feeling pulled between two ongoing narratives. Neither clear enough for him to understand.

“Nonsense,” she smiled. “We’d love to get to know you. How does that sound?”

James saw the flick of blue in her eyes, her dark hair cut to her chin. A glimmer there that he’d seen before. It was starting to irk him that he couldn’t place it. It wasn’t that of Regulus’ nor Sirius’. It was uniquely different. “It sounds perfect,” he nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“Lovely,” she cheered. “Now go find that boy. And don’t mind his whining.”

He followed after Regulus, hurrying to find him in the main entrance, reaching for James’ bag. James slid in, grabbing it first. “I can…” he tucked it behind him. He met Regulus’ gaze, seeing the fading botheredness that was slipping closer towards indifference. “I can take it myself. But if you want to walk me there…?”

Regulus sighed, dramatically exasperated as he started trudging up the staircase like an angsty teen. He didn’t look back, didn’t wait for James as he found the bedroom midway down the hall. “You’ll be sharing with your buddy, Arthur,” he mocked. “Which tell me again how you know him?”

James followed him in, noting the two single beds, one had been left unoccupied. He threw his bag onto one. “We became old school friends. About an hour ago. When I found out he was getting married at the same chateau you were staying in.” He looked back, watching Regulus stand in the doorway.

His arms were crossed over his chest, a lean to his hips that was so painfully him it made James ache. He was trying to maintain that angsty expression, but there was the smallest hint of a smile threatening to ruin it. He took a deep breath. “I know why you’re here,” he told him. “I know you want me to withdraw the deed transfer. So you can watch your career go up in flames, reinforce your own godliness, whatever. But that isn’t going to happen. I made my decision.”

“And tell me, please,” James stepped closer to him. “Why the hell would you have even thought to do that?”

Regulus eyed him up and down, faltering for a moment. “It doesn’t matter,” he shook his head. “I don’t care about the stupid house. It means nothing to me. It’s haunted as hell, needs to be gutted, burned down. I don’t care. It’s just bad memories and family photos and-”

“You aren’t losing the house.”

Regulus stopped, staring for a moment before his eyes narrowed. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Are you listening to me?” James laughed. “I met with Dorcas.”

“So they told you. So much for that fucking client confidentiality clause.”

James moved closer, putting his hands to the man’s shoulders, “You’re missing the point, Reg! We found a way for you to keep it. And for the Malfoys to lose.”

Regulus’ brows knit together, his gaze sinking down to James’ mouth like he was trying to put the words and the voice together. “Lose?” he blinked. “Lose what?”

His smile pulled on his face. “They won’t be able to get a story out about us. They won’t have any evidence. The blackmail scheme is dead. We shot it dead.”

His expression stayed confused, disbelieving. “How?”

“It’s a long story,” he pulled his hands away, diving them instead to his backpack as he pulled out the folder he’d been carrying them in. “And I’ll tell you when we have time. I promise. But I need you to sign this paperwork. Need to get it over to Dorcas ASAP. So they can end this. For good.” He shoved the folder towards him.

Regulus stayed quiet, still. Staring at him. Making no motion to take the folder.

“Take it,” James urged. “And sign them. Please.”

Regulus carefully reached out, plucking it free from James’ hand. He didn’t open it, didn’t look at it. Just tucked it under his arm. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

The fucking jet lag was violent, throwing James into a deep sleep as soon as his head barely grazed the pillow. He fell too deep, into blackness that kept him under like rough waves. When he managed to surface them, into dreams that felt like a movie he kept walking in on for moments at a time, he saw Regulus’ face. Saw the man soaked on his doorstep in Seattle asking to be let in. And it irked him over and over again, never lingering long enough to discern the plot. Why was he there? What did he want?

A hand at his shoulder finally stirred him with a gasp, he looked up to see a wide-eyed little girl at the edge of his bed. His chest fell and rose, a cold sweat on his forehead. “Dora?”

Her mouth was pulled up on one side in an innocent look of bewilderment, “Are you okay?”

He sat up, pushing his hair from his face and grabbing his glasses from the bedside, “Fine. Just fine.” He slipped them on, seeing her young face in perfect focus. “How can I help you?”

She seemed unconvinced, eyeing him carefully. “Dinner is almost ready,” she told him before heading out of the room.

James exhaled deeply, collapsing back onto the bed as he tried to calm the race of his heart. He looked over at Arthur’s bed. It was untouched. He must have had dinner plans of his own with the rest of the wedding party. Maybe last minute preparations. They would have to catch up later.

He went to the bathroom, splashing his face with cold water and running some through his hair. He changed himself into a nicer shirt than the one he’d flown half way around the world in before heading downstairs. He retraced his steps back towards the kitchen, the house looking different now that the sun had sunk below the horizon. The dim light in the windows made the house feel warmer, more intimate. Soft light illuminating the way as he slipped into the bustling kitchen.

A blaring timer was going off, Andy was pulling something from the oven. A tall, thin man with mousy brown was opening a bottle of wine. Dora was calling for her mother, nearly incessantly, until Andy responded back in French. A game of whining ensued between the two, then three as the timer kept beeping. Andy finally raised her eyes to him. “James,” she smiled, exasperated. “You’re here. Perfect. Can you take the plates and silverware and set the table.” She beckoned her chin towards a stack of plates on the counter.

“Uh, sure,” James nodded, jumping headfirst into the flames as he scooped them up in his arms. He trailed into the adjacent dining room, the door swinging shut behind him and quieting the discord of the kitchen. He started to set the plates down at each chair, looking up when the door swung open again.

Regulus stopped as soon as he saw him, a gathering of wine glasses precariously woven between his fingers and an open bottle under his arm. He regarded James in one look before lowering his eyes and getting to work putting a glass at each place setting.

James felt so conscious of him, feeling the way they encircled the table in near perfect synchronization. He kept his voice low. “Have you had a chance to-”

“Not yet,” Regulus said, pouring the glass at the head of the table a little heavier. “I’ve been busy.”

James’ mouth went tight, straightening a fork carefully. “You’re going to sign them, right?” he half-joked. “I mean, don’t tell me I came here for nothing.”

Regulus looked up at him, stare blank on his face. “I’ll sign them,” he assured. “When I have time.”

James felt a stab of guilt. For trying to prioritize himself. For disturbing Regulus’ stay. He tried to shake it off. “So far,” he tried to smile. “I like Andy better than your other cousins.”

“Better than her sisters, then?”

“Her sis-” James froze, eyes narrowing. “Wait. She’s Narcissa’s-”

“Can you see the resemblance?” Regulus asked, a smile nearly hidden from view.

James thought of the dark hair, the light eyes. That something familiar in her expression he hadn’t been able to place. He huffed under his breath. “I mean perhaps. Barely.”

“Well,” he shrugged. “It’s been a long time since she’s been a Black.”

“She left the family?” James asked, setting down the last of the plates.

“When she was sixteen,” he nodded. “Came to France. Was cleaning resort rooms on the Riviera. Teddy’s family was on holiday from England. They got married as soon as they legally could.”

It sounded like some romance novel that Marlene would have likely read next to him on the plane, scoffing at every male character she could. He looked up at the dining room. It was situated in a sunroom, windows on three sides that peeked out to the gardens. Darkened this late, but he could still see the ivy trailing up at the corners of the windows. Blowing faintly in the fall breeze. “And the chateau?”

“Belonged to his French mother’s family,” Regulus explained. “Teddy inherited it when she passed away a few years ago. It hadn’t been occupied for half a century. So they fixed it up. Had a kid. Made it a business.”

“And you come here often then? For what? A break? A vacation?”

Regulus looked up from the last glass he was pouring. He took it in his hand, raising it to his lips for a taste.

James never got the answer, not before Teddy was pushing into the room with a platter in her hands.

“Alright,” he cheered in his peppy British accent. “Dinner is served.”

“Great,” Regulus sighed, pulling out his chair to sit.

Andy and Dora followed, carrying sides that they put out on the table before they started to find their seats. James tried to take the one closest to Teddy, at Dora’s side.

“Oh, James,” Andy stopped him. “Let me sit there so I can get Dora situated. You sit next to Regulus.”

He looked over, noting the tightness in the man’s expression as he continued to nurse his wine. “Sure,” James agreed weakly before rounding the table and taking the seat next to Regulus.

They dished out the food, passing plates around and chatting between themselves. James complimented the food, the wine, learning it had been produced just a few counties over. In fact, nearly everything on the table had been sourced locally from connections the Tonks’ had made. Swapping resources to keep each other’s businesses alive.

“And how are you liking the Chateau so far?” Teddy asked with a smile.

“Oh, it’s lovely,” James brightened. “Magical. It… looks like love feels like.”

Andy’s smile bloomed across the table. “I’d never heard that before. I like it.”

James felt the warmth of the family, the tang of the wine on his tongue. Perhaps getting carried away. “Does Regulus come visit often?” He couldn’t mistake the sound of the knife scraping the plate next to him, ignoring it instead as he watched Teddy and Andy.

“Every year or so he blows in for a while,” Ted nodded. “Hides out in the guesthouse like a hermit in hibernation.”

“Or an animal licking its wounds,” Andy snorted. “Isn’t that right, Reggie?”

James dared to look over, noticing just how tight Regulus’ mouth had gone. How he didn’t speak. How the hands on his utensils were so stiff, the knuckles had blanched.

“Regulus tells us you are friends with Sirius,” Andy said, sitting back to take a sip of wine.

James felt a heat crawl into his face, treading on dangerous waters. “I am,” he said, as diplomatically as he could. Unsure of where it was going.

“And how is that rebellious little cousin of mine?”

“He’s…” James tried to wipe the memory of their argument from his thoughts. “He’s good. Great, even. I won’t bore you with his work, but he is married. To an amazing man. They live in Seattle as well. He’s wonderful… elated.” He couldn’t help it when his tone went stale with the half-truth. Hoping Regulus wouldn’t notice it.

“That’s good,” she nodded, but something in her voice was too stale too. “I haven’t seen Sirius since he was…” she thought, pressing a finger to her lips. “God. Was he nineteen, maybe? Nineteen, Ted?”

“Something like that.”

“Really?” James looked between them, brow folding together. “Because I would have thought you and Sirius would have a lot in common.”

“And why is that?” Andy tilted her head, sparkle in her eye too similar to her sister.

James bit his tongue, hating his stupid immodesty. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat. “I just meant… Well, you both left the family. Or so Regulus told me.”

Andy laughed, shaking her head, “No, you’re right. You would think we’d have everything in common. But that’s not the case.” She spun her wine in her hand, looking like she might leave it at that, before she took another breath. “You see, I did leave. Yes, that’s true. As I’m sure you can see why after meeting my sisters, James. But the difference is I didn’t burn everything in my wake on the way out. I wanted to be able to provide a path for those behind me. Like Regulus. Like my sisters. Some never took me up on it. But I left it on the table. Still do.” She smiled tightly at her cousin across the table, before it died on her face again. “Sirius never seemed interested in my support. My advice. He has always wanted to do everything on his own. Even suffer.”

James snuck a peek at Regulus, seeing the distant look in the man’s eyes. Knowing his thoughts were elsewhere, probably somewhere painful. James’ grip on his knife doubled, finding strength somewhere deep. “I can’t speak for him,” he told Andy, with as much conviction as he could muster. “But I know Sirius is a good person. He’s just… avoidant. Intensely so.”

“Of?” Andy raised a brow.

James bit into his cheek. “He gets scared. Of being alone. Rejected. So he’d rather push away first. It’s just how he’s coped with… you know.”

“Being a Black,” Andy filled in. “Yes, well, we all have our ways. Right, Reggie?”

Regulus didn’t answer, just kept pushing his food around his plate. Looking like he had muted both of them.

“He’s gotten better,” James blurted in his friend’s defense. “Is getting better. I think.”

Regulus looked over, sarcasm weighing heavy in his stare. “Have you…?” he let the words trail off.

“No,” James admitted. “I haven’t talked to him since… Well, since we last spoke.”

Regulus looked around the table, as if the point had been proven. “I’m going to get more wine,” he remarked, pulling away from his seat and traipsing back into the kitchen.

James watched him go, eyes following him the whole way. His own wine soured in the pit of his stomach.

Andy’s hands were folded together, judgment weighing heavy in her eyes. “James,” she murmured carefully. “We care deeply for Regulus. As if he was our own little brother. We’ve been a safe place for him when he has needed one. We’ve been what Sirius should have been. And I know you are his friend, I know you see good in him, but it doesn’t make it any easier for the rest of us.”

James felt pulled apart. Pulled between the brothers. Between the desire to defend Sirius and protect Regulus. Knowing that Andy had every right to be critical, but hating it still. Hating the way it reflected poorly on everyone involved. He carefully lowered his utensils, before reaching across the table. He took Andy’s hand in his own, watching her expression shift in confusion. He took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he told her with full sincerity. “Thank you for putting Regulus first. Thank you for being a safe place for him. I’m grateful he has a family in you three.”

She looked him over, expression softening. Her eyes glossy for just a moment as she squeezed his hand before letting it go.

James looked down to his half-eaten plate. Wondering briefly if coming here was a mistake. If he was trespassing on something sacred to Regulus that he had never been invited to be a part of. It gnawed at him even after Regulus returned, after most of them had finished their plates, when talks of a dessert were spelled out to prevent Dora from understanding them.

Before dessert could come out, a noise jolted James’ shoulders. A horn, loud and bright. He turned around, looking out the window into the garden and seeing a collection of shadows just beyond. The horn blew again, even closer this time.

Regulus sighed, shoulders falling as he got up, loosening the window open and feeling the cool night breeze trickling in with all its heavenly flower scents.

“Stag! Stag! Stag! Stag! Stag!” voices shouted in unison.

James got up, coming closer to peer into the shadows. A head of gingery red hair caught the light.

“Jammer!” Arthur shouted. “Come on! Join the stag party!” He blew his bugle again. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked.

James looked over at Regulus in the window. Perhaps asking permission without intending to.

The man sighed again, even heavier. “Well, go on, Jammer. Get out there with your boys.”

The bar in the village felt like the hometown spot for locals. Gatherings of white haired men lazily enjoying beverages at their tables as they chatted, watched sports play on the tv. It wasn’t as raucous as the twins maybe wanted it to be, judging by the way they were shooting back European beers like they were the cure to any ill. Arthur and James watched with shared glances and small smiles, enjoying at a slower pace, consuming their wine, a champagne that the bartender popped exclusively for Arthur when James told him he was getting married tomorrow. The bubbles were loud in James’ mouth, making his whole head buzz in a way he couldn’t ignore. A welcome distraction from the tense dinner he had left.

When the twins had their fill, Arthur and James tried to lead them back down the road towards the chateau, but they became distracted. The river on the side of the road caught their eyes and soon, the twins were catapulting themselves into the murky black water. James and Arthur took one look and passed, choosing instead to sit on the bank beside the road and watch them scream and splash like small children.

“Are you scared?” James asked, looking to his side. “About tomorrow?”

“Scared? No,” he shook his head. “Ready to get it over with? Maybe.”

James laughed, “Just try to enjoy it. It will be gone in a flash.”

“Life?”

“The wedding, you cynic,” James nudged his shoulder. “I remember when I got married, I thought it was so important for me to make the rounds. Shake hands with every distant family member and estranged colleague of my parents. But when I looked to the dance floor, my wife had been dancing the whole night by herself. And I realized far too late that I should have been more selfish. Should have danced more. Shouldn’t have left her alone.” James didn’t feel the need to mention the part about breaking her toe.

“I didn’t know you were married.”

“I’m not,” he shrugged. “Not anymore.” He waited for the slump of his mood, the bite of regret at the thought of Lily, but this time, it wouldn’t come. Like a wound that was done bleeding. He blamed it on the champagne, the wine. Figuring his shortcomings as a husband couldn’t be forgotten so easily.

“Jammer,” Arthur tilted his head, trying to see his face. “Tell me the truth.”

He blinked, waking from his reverie. “What truth? What do you mean?”

Arthur smiled, brilliant and buzzed in the moonlight. “Why are you here?” he enunciated. “Because I know you don’t know Ted from Adam.”

James bit his tongue, hating feeling so transparent under the eyes of a near stranger. Wondering vaguely when Arthur had figured it out. Maybe he had been that obvious from the start. He felt tempted to spill his guts. Afterall, Arthur and him were hiding secrets as favors for each other already. “I’m not here for Ted,” he admitted. “I’m here for Andy’s cousin. I’m here for Regulus.”

“The one staying in the guesthouse? That scrawny kid?”

“Not a kid. He’s twenty-eight.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, smiling as he picked at some grass between his feet, “And how do you know this Regulus?”

James was quiet. Unsure of what to say. He could have divulged the complexities of their meeting. His transition from client to lover to something more. Tell him about the fall out. The secrets Regulus had kept hidden from view. And how it all came crashing down in the end. With only a parting gift for James to leave him with, as Lily had described it.

“Oh,” Arthur interrupted, the grin on his face going goofy and wide. “I know that face.”

James scowled, “What face?”

“That’s the ‘I loved him once’ face. You can’t pull one over on master of perception, Arthur Weasley,” he tapped a finger to his nose. “I know exactly why you’re here now. Read it only a thousand times. You’ve come to win back his heart.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” James protested, firmly. “I’m not here for that.”

Arthur looked at him with a glint in his eye. Challenging him.

“At least, not necessarily,” James conceded slightly. “I’m here strictly on business. Morality. Formality.”

Arthur laid back against the grass, head settled atop his hands, “But you wouldn’t be mad if you left on more informal terms, hm?”

James thought back to what Barty said. He had the same perception. That saving the house was part of a bigger scheme. “I haven’t thought about it,” he shook his head. He thought back to dinner. To the indifferent way Regulus had shut him out, made his presence as hard and cold as ice. A harsh contrast from the flirty and sinister boy that was drenched on his doorstep. Everything about him changing so rapidly that James couldn’t keep up, couldn’t see the motive. Was left to try and decipher it all at face value. “I don’t think he wants that. I don’t think he wants me. Maybe he did, in a selfish, shallow way, at one point. But not anymore. I think he’s done. And I understand why.”

Arthur let the quiet play out, as if he knew James needed it. As if he knew that there was little he could say to change his mind. “Best be heading back now,” he finally said.

“Why?”

“Because,” he groaned as he rose to his feet. “My brothers are absolutely pissed. And my future wife would likely lose her mind if she found out.” He offered James a hand.

“Perhaps,” he nodded, taking it and being leveraged up to his own feet stiffly. “Let’s get them and go home.”

James was only swaying slightly by the time he and Arthur wheeled the twins back to the chateau. Arthur tried to keep them quiet, well-aware of how late it was and how furious Molly would be if she’d heard two of the groomsmen blacked out and hollering through what was supposed to be her tranquil French countryside wedding venue. It took an infinite amount of shushing and hands over mouths and bites to fingers before James and Arthur had secured them both in their beds. It was only then that Arthur and James walked together, arms around shoulders to the room of theirs down the hall.

“You can get the first shower,” James hushed towards him, unbuttoning his champagne-sprayed button-down to a fresh undershirt. “Our groom needs his beauty rest for tomorrow.”

“No, no. Molly will be the true beauty. The wild rose in full bloom,” he sighed with a tipsy smile as he gathered his toiletries in his arms like a huge. “God, I love her.”

James watched him, the lovestruck shine in his eyes that he was nearly jealous of. “You’re going to be a great husband, Art.”

His smile spread even wider, easy to imagine him as a child. The kind that never gave his mother any problems. “You think so?”

“I know it,” James nodded.

Arthur gathered up his pajamas, drifting off towards the shower. Murmuring under his breath as he weaved, “Introducing the new Mr. and Mrs. Weasley!”

“Oh, wait a minute,” James called after him. “Do you happen to have an extra razor for my…” he pressed his knuckles to his jaw, eliciting the sound of the rough hairs there.

Arthur’s shoulders fell, “Sorry, love. Only packed my own. If you pop downstairs, you could ask Ted if he has one. You being mates and all.” He smiled mockingly.

James rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Mates,” he breathed. “You go on. I’ll figure it out.”

When he came downstairs, he could have heard a pin drop. The house was quiet. It must have been nearly two in the morning. Of course they’d all be asleep for the big day tomorrow. He went to the guest bathrooms on the first floor, trying to sift through the contents of a few cupboards and cabinets with no success. He was nearly about to sneak into the twins’ room and see if he could plunder an extra from one of their suitcases when he raised his eyes to the gardens outside and saw a warm yellow light glowing in the distance. The guesthouse windows were dimly lit. Just enough to infer that Regulus was still awake.

James felt the glow beckon him, slipping out of the house and padding down the cool concrete steps to the dewy grass. It was chillier than he could have remembered, wrapping his hands around his bare arms as he felt drawn to the light like a moth to a flame. The guesthouse had a small courtyard outfront, a bubbling fountain, a set of French doors with sheer curtains. Through their dreamy haze, he could see Regulus’ room, the bed facing the door. Regulus was leaning back against the pillows, a bare knee drawn up as he was reading through a handful of papers. A pen tip pinched between his bite as he focused his furrowed brows.

James could have stayed in the darkened garden all night, just watching him. But he had other promises to keep. He hesitated momentarily before giving in to his liquid courage and rapping his knuckles against the glass.

Regulus’ eyes flicked up towards him, steady for a moment before he put the papers aside and tossed the pen with them. He rocked himself up onto his feet, coming to the door in his boxers, a t-shirt that overwhelmed his lithe frame. Maybe it was Ted’s. Maybe even Andy’s. He pulled open the door, standing opposite from James as his eyes drifted down him momentarily. “May I help you?”

“Uh, maybe,” he said, not realizing how flustered he’d sounded until the words were tumbling out. “I actually need to shave for tomorrow. Bride’s request. But I didn’t exactly bring anything with me for that. Would you happen to-”

Regulus was already walking away, leaving the door open as he went towards what James could only assume was the bathroom.

James stood there, patiently waiting as his eyes roamed the room. It was everything he could have imagined. Whitewashed stone walls and a brick floor. A delicate iron bed frame where the metal vines snaked up towards the arched ceiling. A vintage rug whose intricate design had been bleached out by the sun. A single lamp at the bedside giving off that warm yellow glow that had called to him, throwing shadows to corners that were too far for it to reach.

Regulus reemerged a moment later. “Here.”

James looked to the man’s hands, seeing a double-edged razor blade and an empty metal safety razor folded between his fingers. He didn’t take it. “I don’t know how to use that.”

Regulus’ face pulled, “Seriously? It’s the same thing as a regular razor.”

“Actually it’s not,” he huffed. “Because I still have the scar under my jaw from when I tried to use my dad’s when I was eleven.” He tilted his head up, drawing his finger across the small red slash as proof.

“Well, good thing you aren’t eleven anymore then,” Regulus’ hand insisted he take it.

James stared, intimidated by the flippancy of how he held the blade. It was too sharp. Regulus could hurt himself. Stain the brick underfoot bright red with his blood.

Regulus’ hand finally fell with a scoff, “Get in here.”

“Hm?” James’ eyes widened.

“I’ll do it myself,” he called as he walked back to the bathroom, leaving James in the doorway again.

He stood there for a moment, trying to catch up on what was happening. He looked behind him, into that darkened garden where only the bubbling fountain and the crickets were awake. He stepped into the guesthouse, carefully closing the glass door behind him with a rattle and following Regulus.

The bathroom was tiny. A cramped tub, a toilet, a sink that all seemed to be ancient relics that had been rejected from the crumbling chateau that Ted and Dora had revived. The eggy smell of well water and lavender soap mixing strangely as Regulus motioned for James to sit. “You don’t have to,” he started to protest, shaking his head. “I’ll just tell Arthur-”

“James,” Regulus sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll be quick.”

He swallowed his hesitations, taking a seat and feeling his pulse kick up when Regulus stood over him. His bare legs brushing James’ knees in the cramped space. Close enough to reach out and touch.

“Use this,” the man ran a bar of soap under the faucet before handing it to him.

James did as he was told, taking off his glasses and lathering the dark hairs that went from his ears to his adam’s apple. Smelling that lavender twice as strong and determined to let it soothe him, but watching Regulus’ hands load the blade into the razor, practiced motions that had no fear of being cut, he wasn’t sure what was more intimidating. The razor’s edge or Regulus’ proximity. “Where did you learn to use that?” he asked, feeling the way the sound of his voice was insulated by the close stone walls. Making every word sound hallowed and private.

“Dancers always carried razors in their kits. For their shoes and feet. Us guys had to get close enough shaves for the shows. It just became a habit,” he tightened the blade into place before leaning closer to James. “Now, don’t move.”

He reached up, steadying Regulus’ wrist between his fingers as he eyed him. “No hurting me.”

The man’s eyes were catching the light above the mirror, lighter than navy. Twilight. “I think I’m past that, darling.”

James’ insides tied themselves to knots. He tried to take another breath of that lavender but it wouldn’t loosen them. He momentarily closed his eyes when Regulus touched him, drew his chin up softly. He nearly felt a whimper bubble up at the back of his throat, like every touch starved nerve was mewling for it. He clenched his jaw tight as he felt the first slow drag of the razor start at his cheek, breezy in the free space it was clearing away from his skin. The razor came and went again and again. The silence between pulling like a bow against the strings, slow and aching, while Regulus took his time, every ounce of his care in grazing the razor down James’ cheek, along his jaw. His neck. One hand kept on the razor, while the other still held him gently. A touch that he could have imagined was loving if it’s counterpart hadn’t been sharp enough to slice through his quivering artery.

James could feel the press of Regulus’ legs against his, nearly slotting together as he leaned towards the sink to rinse the blade clean before diving back in again. James’ hands were gripping tight on his own thighs, fingers inching closer to where Regulus’ milky knees and thighs were. If he could just barely graze him there, maybe it wouldn’t ring any alarms. Maybe it would slip by as an accident. He stopped, admonishing himself and pulling back with white knuckles.

He let his eyes flutter open, watching Regulus’ dark brows intently focused as he worked. He swallowed, feeling the skin going taut under Regulus’ blade. “What were you working on?” he asked. “When I knocked.”

“The paperwork you gave me.”

“How’s it look?”

Regulus’ expression didn’t give anything away. “Looks copacetic to me. I mean Dorcas wrote it up. I trust them.”

It wasn’t exactly the way James had pictured the conversation about the deed going. Perhaps Barty and Arthur’s words had gotten to him. Some big scheme to win Regulus back. If it had been a movie, James could have seen the scene play out in his head. Blinding smiles and impromptu embraces and perfect reunions. But this wasn’t a movie. He should have known that. He tried to keep the tint of disappointment from his voice, “Are you… excited? Happy?”

Regulus stopped momentarily, considering it. “I’m grateful,” he nodded like he was trying to convince himself of it. “A little tired of having to be grateful.”

James would have rather he nicked his skin. It would have probably hurt less. “I’m sorry,” he said, quiet enough for only the space between them. He watched Regulus’ eyes drift to his, a question behind them that didn’t need speaking. James went on, clarifying, “I probably smell like I’ve been swimming in a champagne river.”

Regulus’ eyes fell back to where his fingers were working, leaning back to the sink to rinse the blade. So obnoxiously close every time he did it. “I don’t mind the way you smell,” he shook his head. “Better than cigar smoke. Heavy cologne. Whiskey sours,” he listed lazily. “Those. Those I mind.”

James’ thoughts flitted to the clients. Wondering just how much he had hated them, for how long. Only now quitting. Having to find out from Barty of all people. “I know you lied to me.”

“Which time?” Regulus gave a miniscule tilt of his brow. Half sarcasm, half serious.

“You haven’t been seeing clients.”

Regulus went quiet. His eyes and focus on James’ beard. Nothing but a withheld breath to indicate he’d heard him.

“Reg. When was the last time you saw a client?”

He didn’t meet his eyes, cleaning the blade again. More diligently this time. “Two months ago.”

It shouldn’t have sunk to the bottom of his gut like a boulder. But it was so much heavier than anyone could understand. Regulus’ whole identity had been wrapped up in his job for the better part of a decade. The idea of him being removed from it was nearly unthinkable, unbelievable. “Surely, you've been calling. Texting. Something.”

“No,” he said simply, going back to James’ cheek. “I’m done with it.”

James put a hand to the center of Regulus’ chest, pushing him just far enough to be able to stare into his eyes. “What happened to needing to feel powerful?”

Regulus was struggling to hold his stare, muscles of his face pulling uncomfortably beyond his control. “Maybe I had too much power,” he murmured. “Maybe I needed someone to make me feel small again.”

It felt aimed in a way that had James replaying everything he’d said to him on that rainy balcony in Seattle. He’d told Regulus he was playing villain and victim all at once. Giving up James to linger in his beloved misery. It had been sharp, bitter. He hadn’t intended to hurt him, to make him feel small. That hadn’t been the goal.

The hand at Regulus’ chest was warm from his skin. James let it fall, going cold as the stone walls again. “You didn’t come to Seattle for a client.”

“No,” Regulus breathed, the navy in his eyes as dull as a starless sky as he made the final swipe of the razor. “No. I didn’t.”

James sat there. Thinking and thinking. Trying to make sense of it. Eventually asking, “Then, why did you come?”

“James. You’re smarter than that.” He tossed a towel into James’ lap. “Clean yourself up.”

James watched him toss the razor into the sink with a clatter, go off into the bedroom and out of sight. He grabbed his glasses and turned to the mirror, seeing the clean shaven face staring back at him. He wiped the edges of soap off the highs of his cheeks, the ravine of his collarbones. He couldn’t stop himself from falling back into the memory of Regulus on his doorstep. He was drenched to the bone, though it hadn’t been much more than a drizzle outside. How long had he been out there? Toying with the idea of knocking? It must have been an hour, maybe more.

Why? Why would he do that?

It echoed the same question he had for Dorcas when they told him that Regulus had moved to hand over the deed to the Malfoys.

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe he heard about a philanthropist whose career was about to be ruined. Maybe he wanted to do what he could to save him.

Regulus had signed those papers and then got on a plane to see him. Stood on his doorstep and asked to be let in. Asked to take him to bed. And James had assumed it was a shallow effort to fuck away the pain. But… it wasn’t. It was a humble attempt to gauge James’ feelings. To see if he was missed. If James had felt the void he’d left. It hit James all at once. Feeling as if there had been a test. A test that he failed.

I finally have room to breathe.

His eyes fell away from his reflection, suddenly finding it impossible to look at himself. Why had he said that? Why had he been so cruel? When it was already over. When there was nothing left to fight about. He went to the bedroom where Regulus was rearranging the paperwork in his hands, tapping it together on the small table by the bed. James stood in front of him, feeling the stone walls caving them in. “Really?” he asked, gravely serious. “That’s why you came? Because you-”

“Mhm,” Regulus nodded without looking. “Really.”

James’ knees felt weak. He sank down on the edge of the bed, his head hanging in his hands as he combed fingers through his hair. He looked up at Regulus, watching as he slid the documents back into their folder. “I didn’t know,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” Regulus handed him the folder. “No, I got that.”

James felt regret all over again. He took it slowly, fidgeting it between his fingers. “I thought you just wanted…” he tried to find the words. “I thought you were just…” He couldn’t escape that image. Soaked on his doorstep. “How long were you standing out there? In front of my house?”

He exhaled heavily. He shook his head, “I wasn’t sure I should do it.”

“But you did.”

“Eventually.”

“Why?” James asked again. Though he knew. He knew.

Regulus shrugged.

He stuttered through a breath. Losing his mind. “You should have just told me.”

“Maybe,” he offered. “But I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He shook his head, eyes on the floor, “I was showing too much of my throat already.”

James sat there, frantic in the quiet. Piecing it together. Regulus had wanted him. Not just for the night. He had wanted them. “If you would have told me…”

“Come on, James,” he scoffed. “What would you have done? Would it have changed your mind? Dulled the bite in your tone?”

He swallowed his words. He wasn’t sure. He wanted to say yes. That it would have changed everything. That it still could. But he wasn’t sure.

Regulus leaned closer into James’ space. He let his forefinger drag up the freshly shaven skin of his neck, tilting his chin up to look at him. “Besides,” he breathed. “Who is showing their throat now?”

James went dizzy, his thoughts careening into dangerous places. Wishing Regulus would lay him out and spit in his mouth again. He’d nearly forgotten the taste. Maybe if he asked nicely, he would…

No.

No, James’ awareness flooded back like a wave drawing in on itself. And this time, it saw Regulus’ sinister temptation for the mask it was. The mask he had recognized far too late from the balcony, before that too, more times than he could count. Because it was so easy for Regulus to slip back to this when he had nothing else to hide behind. The realization killed any appetite for Regulus’ adept hands, diligent mouth. Instead, James rose to his feet, standing tall over Regulus for a moment and watching that habitual confidence in his eyes flicker unsteady like a flame in the wind. James wrapped his arms around the man’s tight frame and drew him close, embracing until the warmth of him was soaking through. He tucked his chin into his shoulder, face nestled into his neck as he smelled him. Feeling the ocean of emotions go smooth, calm as if something in Regulus’ body chemistry was made to make him feel safe.

He held him, breathing him in until he felt Regulus’ arms tentatively encircle his shoulders. A hand slipping up into the back of his hair to hold him closer, a thumb smoothing the skin behind his ear in long strokes. James could feel the man’s heartbeat against his chest, hearing it calm. Like this was having the same effect on both of them. Like they missed this. Both of them.

James’ face went tight as he felt his shoulders start to shake, his eyes stinging wet as he tried to keep them clenched tight, keep it all back. But his restraint weakened with every passive stroke of Regulus’ fingers on his skin, unwinding him until the tears were slipping to the man’s shirt, his skin. Until James was choking them out, fingers gripping Regulus’ sides tight. Reeling at the idea that the tears weren’t like Regulus’ had been in the past. They weren’t because James felt overwhelmed or at odds with himself. In fact, they weren’t reflective of any internal conflict at all. But, instead, the opposite. He cried because something so complicated suddenly felt simple. He cried because he was thousands of miles from Seattle and yet he was the most home he’d felt in weeks.

He cried because despite his best efforts to debate himself on it, they had loved each other. More than the obstacles between them. More than the potential for failure. More than the fear of it all crumbling in their joined hands. James had loved Regulus enough to challenge his friendship with Sirius. To resist the Malfoy’s intimidations. To accept the possibility of a reputation ruined. And Regulus had loved James enough to seek soaking wet repentance on his doorstep. To brave the possibility of facing his brother. To sacrifice his most treasured home. They had loved each other, most evidently. And even now, in the face of so much unsaid, unsettled, Regulus was a comfort, a safety that James had never imagined finding.

"It's okay," Regulus shushed softly in his ear. "You're okay, James. I got you."

James sobbed even harder, fingers twisted into the man’s shirt. Knees weak and heart thumping and lungs constricting as he felt Regulus’ breaths against him, mimicking them as a way to contain himself. Quieting his outburst to little but whimperings as his fingers unclenched the fabric, his cheek brushing against the sliver of warm skin that was exposed beyond the man’s collar. And when his throat had finally dried enough to speak, he whispered, barely able to make out the words, “Do you still…”

Regulus pulled away, holding James’ wet face in his hands as he looked upon him. Drinking in the sight. A knitting in his brows that read as concern. “Do I still what?”

James couldn’t see anything but him. His sparkling navy eyes, dark curls, fair skin, freckled cheeks. The softness of his features that complimented the harsh angles of his body. Everything about him was a contradiction, defiant traits at war with each other. It made him want to cry all over again. “Feel that way?” he choked out. “Do you still feel the way you did in Seattle?”

Regulus’ expression dimmed, something stabbing through the concern hard enough to have the man pulling out of James’ arms. Leaving distance between them, cold and harsh. He watched James for a moment more, a thousand emotions playing out across his face, before he turned away. He started to gather his hair up in a bun, tying it off with the elastic on his wrist. “I’m pretty wiped from today,” he sighed, the tone of his voice going mundane. “Why don’t we talk tomorrow.”

James’ eyes blinked the stragglers of tears away, wiping at his cheeks and under his glasses. “Yeah. Okay,” he nodded, nearly stumbling back to the door of the guesthouse. He leaned a hand on the doorway to steady himself, looking back over his shoulder and watching Regulus slip into bed. “Good night,” he called, with a lightness to his voice he hadn’t heard for a long time.

“Night,” Regulus chirped, forcing a smile as he reached for the lamp and clicked it off.

James carefully closed that guesthouse door, only staring at him through the sheer curtains and glass for a moment more before he turned back into the garden. He felt every step on the damp grass, the cold concrete. But they didn’t feel the same as when he’d walked out here. No, walking felt different, standing felt different. That lightness that had been in his voice. It was seeping through everything. As if the tears had wiped him clean of everything he’d been carrying for longer than he could imagine.

It wasn’t until he was back in his guestroom, listening to the sound of Arthur snoring. Fingers tracing circles against the smooth skin of his jaw. Conceding the sleepy blinks that were gently ushering him into dreams. It wasn’t until then that the word came to him.

That lightness…

That feeling…

It must be hope.

Chapter Text

When James’ sleep finally released him from its vice grip, everything felt warm. He could feel the sunshine on him before even opening his eyes, like a lazy house cat finding the perfect spot in the rays from the window. He turned over onto his back, stretching out and feeling it against his bare chest, his face. Laying there for as long as he could just to enjoy that feeling, the dance of a glowing orb behind his lids. It was a better sleep than he’d had in weeks. Before he felt something in his hair.

He finally opened his eyes and looked up. And maybe he should have jumped, shot up, screamed or gasped, but he didn’t. As Regulus sat on the edge of the mattress, haloed by the inverted green haze of the sun in James’ eyes.

Regulus was pulling back his fingers from where they’d been softly trailing through James’ hair. Watching James carefully, gaze shifting down his features like he was taking in every slope and crevice from his eyes to his collarbones. And the expression he wore wasn’t pleasant nor sunny like the day outside. It was discerning, searching for something, but never seeming settled on finding it.

James’ sticky mouth opened, licking his lips as he met the navy in the man’s eyes like it was a color he’d never seen before. “What time is it?” he asked through a rough throat.

Regulus didn’t check a clock, a watch, a phone. “Half past noon,” he murmured.

James looked over towards the rest of the room. The empty, but neatly made bed Arthur had been fast asleep in last night. “Where’s the groom?” he started to push himself up. “Why didn’t he wake me up?”

Regulus softly pushed him back down. “The boys are getting ready downstairs. He figured you were jet lagged. Wanted to let you sleep.”

James let himself go slack again. His gaze going back to Regulus sitting over him, something busy just behind his eyes. “What?” he whispered.

The man looked briefly caught in the act of something, redirecting his attention towards the bedside table, “I brought you some breakfast, coffee.”

That was what James had been smelling. “Oh, god, I love you,” he murmured, rolling towards the coffee cup perfectly positioned next to a pastry, some fruit and feeling the featherlight press of Regulus’ body against his. He sat up just enough to bring it to his lips and let it wash down the stale taste in his mouth.

He looked back to Regulus, seeing the stiffness in his posture. It was only then that he replayed what he’d said. Something shameful sank into the low of his stomach. He felt embarrassed, tempted to apologize, but not wanting to call any more attention to it.

“How’d you sleep?” Regulus asked, like maybe he wanted to move past it too.

“Fine,” James nodded, busying his hands with the handle. “Yeah. Great. You?”

Regulus nodded. Mouth sewn tight.

James missed Regulus’ fingers in his hair already. Wishing he’d kept his eyes closed a little longer. Feeling like he squandered something before even finding out what it was. “Do you want to maybe…” he tentatively reached out, brushing a thumb against Regulus’ bony knuckles. “We could take a walk. Maybe talk about-”

Regulus pulled away, rising to his feet, “I have to help Andy.”

James looked up at him. Feeling whatever spell that had come over them break. It ached somewhere in his chest. “Of course,” he nodded. “Anything I can do?”

Regulus’ chest rose in a deep breath. “Just get up, darling,” he sighed, turning to leave. “It’s Arthur and Molly’s big day.”

James watched him leave, sighing hard when the door finally clicked close. He looked down to his coffee with suspicion knitting deep between his brows, taking another sip. Regulus remembered how he took it. Making the caffeine rush like an electrical current through his whole chest.

The extra suit Arthur had packed, terrified that the twins would do something to compromise their own, fit well enough across the shoulders, but the hem of the pants was about two inches too short, enough to hit nearly above his ankle.

“Just wear black socks,” Arthur commented cheerfully, tossing a pair at his head as he went back to writing.

James put them on with the loafers Arthur had to borrow from Ted, eyeing himself in the mirror and knowing the error was well enough concealed to be out of view in the photos. He looked over at Arthur hunched over the drawing room desk, coming up behind him. “What are you up to?”

He kept scribbling, crossing something out with intense focus, “My vows.”

“Now?” James checked his watch, noting they only had about thirty minutes before the ceremony was expected to start. “A bit last minute, don’t you think?”

“Not at all,” he shook his head. “I wanted to be in the moment. If you’re too prepared, it isn’t authentic, don’t you think?”

James remembered having written his six months in advance, spending the time between practicing them in his quiet moments until they were nearly memorized. Perfecting every sentence to ensure they flowed seamlessly into each other. It had mattered to him that everyone in attendance knew how perfect and polished and professional he was. At the time, he would have scoffed at the idea of writing them so last minute, but looking at Arthur now, all James could feel was sadness. Wondering why everyone else’s opinion had mattered so much to him on a day that was supposed to be about him and Lily.

“Arthur,” James fiddled with the end of his tie. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Certainly,” the man nodded.

“Does the fear ever go away?” he asked. “The fear of falling for someone and not knowing if they will catch you.”

Arthur’s smile stretched wide enough to crescent his friendly eyes. “When you truly love someone, you’ll fall regardless. You won’t care if anyone catches you. You’ll fall to your death happy just to be in love at all.”

He felt it strike like a match in him, a mix of anxiety and excitement at the very thought. Not knowing if he could agree. He certainly hadn’t felt that way with Lily. And sure, he’d been reckless in his love for Regulus, but not without conditions. Safeguards. Rules. He sighed, stepping forward to squeeze the man’s shoulder. “You’re a real one, Arthur.”

The man smiled up at him, while in the next room a loud cheer and thunderous applause echoed. The groom rolled his eyes. “Be a dear and round up the calvary, will you? Let them know they need to be sober and ready to walk over to the ceremony space in ten minutes for photos.”

“Yes, sir,” James nodded, heading into the next room. The blonde twins had managed to find a few beer bottles and a television, which was blaring some soccer match that they were completely drawn into. “Boys,” James called, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and switching it off to a chorus of “awww”’s. “Are you both ready to walk over?”

“Sure, but-”

“Where’s your ties?” James pointed to their necks where the buttons splayed open. “You don’t look ready to me.”

“We’ll put them on. Just let us see the last few minutes!” one whined.

“Actually, we need to have a talk,” James breathed, pulling up a chair before them. “We need to set some ground rules about today.”

The twins shared a confused glance.

James looked up towards the door to the next room, keeping his voice low enough so Arthur couldn’t hear. “This is a big day for your brother. One of the biggest days he will ever have,” he eyed them seriously. “That means no funny business. And no being cruel.”

“You mean we should send back that barrel of sheep’s blood we wanted to spill onto the dancefloor to make it a slip and slide?” one snickered, tossing back his beer.

“Oh!” the other’s eyes lit up. “That would have been brilliant!”

James reached forward, grabbing the beer from his hand and placing it on the table. “I mean no antics. No jabs. No getting publicly tanked. Nothing. Arthur is our perfect gentleman. And the best way we can repay him is…” he looked between them with a smile.

One twin sighed, rolling his eyes, “Being boring little polite pricks just like him.”

“Just for today,” James assured them. “You two can go back to being complete drunken douchebags tomorrow.”

Their smiles slowly grew, a laugh pulled from their chests. “We like you, Jammer. You’re a proper numpty, just like Art, but we like you.”

James rose to his feet, adjusting the hem of his pants that kept getting caught on his calves when he sat. “I’m just doing my job,” he told them. “Now, ties. On.”

Unsurprisingly, James never cried at his wedding.

Unsurprisingly, Arthur was a mess.

In fact, the groom went through both his and James’ handkerchief during the twenty minute ceremony, soiling them with tears and snot that he wiped away with a smile brighter than the camera flash. Molly looked ethereal, all soft red curls cascading down her intricate ball gown. Her colorful bouquet of garden flowers reflected onto her warm, freckled face. She didn’t just look beautiful, she looked happy. Not caring that her groom was an emotional wreck as she just kept smiling and laughing every time he had to stop to blow his nose.

The setting was picturesque, nestled between the flower beds of the garden. The fragrant smells of lilacs, the last of the blooming roses, lush green spurge made the space feel entirely a world of its own. With the dying light of the sunset haloing the couple as they held hands under the ivy covered pergola, James couldn’t have imagined a more perfect scene for the pair.

Even with the charming couple and awe-inspiring scenery stealing every eye in the garden, James couldn’t help but briefly scan the crowd for Regulus, wondering if he would perhaps be too busy working behind the scenes to attend. But his eyes did eventually land on him, sitting with Dora in his lap in the back row. He was wearing a far less flashy suit than the last event they’d been to together. Something navy and minimalistic, that still fit like it was custom. Handsome as always and leaving James feeling moderately embarrassed by his own short trousers, his borrowed shoes.

By the time cocktail hour faded into the reception, the golden sky had turned to misty twilight and the tent was bustling with family and friends visiting. There was a respite from the commotion as the couple had their first dance, prompting a few in the sea of onlookers to become reasonably glossy-eyed. Then, dinner was served and the room livened again. James sat at the front table with the rest of the wedding party, Arthur at his side as the couple enjoyed the last bites of their meal together. Their heads kept close as they spoke excitedly, laughed in unison. The love between them so palpable, James felt like even his proximity to them was an intrusion.

So he went to the bar, ordering something stiff and waiting as the staff prepared it. He looked out to the crowd, where a few partygoers had started to make their way to the dancefloor. Dora was there, Regulus spinning her around to the music as she laughed. He dangled her by her arms, swinging her to the beat as she cracked up. Her white party shoes perched on top of Regulus’ as he moved his feet for the both of them. James felt the smile stretch across his face unprompted, so wide that it nearly hurt. Watching long enough that he caught Dora’s eye, emboldening her to rush from the dancefloor towards him.

“James!” she grinned, radiating infectious energy as she tried to catch her breath. “Did you see me out there? Did you see me dancing with Uncle Reggie?”

Regulus was following, weaving through the crowd mouthing “excuse me” to the guests he was squeezing past. He was slipping off his jacket, looking warm from the dancing and the body heat trapped in by the tent.

James only briefly met his eyes before he was looking away, stooping down to Dora’s level. “Of course, I saw you,” he laughed. “You are an amazing dancer, you know that?”

She rolled her eyes with a faint blush on her cheeks that matched the technicolor florals of her dress as she grabbed his arm, “You next, James. Dance with me!”

“Uh,” he felt his mouth go suddenly very dry at the thought. Afterall, James, dancing, and weddings didn’t have the best track record and he was fairly certain Andy would eviscerate him if he broke any of Dora’s tiny, precious toes.

“Dora, James prefers watching others dance,” Regulus interjected, putting a hand to the girl’s hair. “Isn’t that right, James?”

He stood to his feet, gaze floating down the man’s features. The dew of sweat on his brow, the jacket folded over his arm, the relaxedness of his stance. “Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s exactly right. You go dance, Dora. I promise, I’ll be watching you.”

She smiled, bounding back towards the dance floor.

“Here you go, sir,” the bartender slid James’ drink over, looking to Regulus. “For you?”

“I’ll have the same,” he smiled tightly, leaning into the bar alongside James.

He felt the room falling quiet in his ears, the party miles away. Finding it difficult to perceive anything beyond Regulus standing this close to him. He felt painted into the moment, unable to break the scene.

“How’s it been?” Regulus asked. “Mr. Best Man.”

“Evening is going smoothly. The Weasley’s seem as thrilled as ever,” he offered between sips of his drink.

Regulus’ eyes went to the head table, watching the couple, “They do,” he agreed softly, something curious in his gaze like perhaps his admiration was tainted with jealousy too.

James felt his head buzz warm, blaming it on the drink. “You look good,” he blurted, willing to blame that on the drink too.

Regulus looked back at him, bright eyes catching the market lights strung overhead. “Good?” he huffed, smirk spreading up one side of his face. “Is that the best you can do?”

James bit into his lip, failing to suppress his smile. “You look like the reason I’m drinking.”

Regulus laughed, grabbing his own drink as the bartender slid it over and raising it towards James. “Cheers to that,” he nodded. Their glasses clinked, they drank, they stood there, leaning close enough for their shoulders to brush. They watched each other. Both of them seeming on the verge of speaking, but never saying anything.

James felt a tap on his shoulder, looking to see one of the twins motioning for him to follow. “What?” he quirked a brow, a little annoyed. “What do you need?”

“Your speech,” he told him. “Yours is first. Come on.”

James froze, eyes widening. “My what?”

“The best man’s speech!” the twin cheered. “Get to it!”

“I don’t have anything prepar-” he tried to shout, but the man was already out of earshot in the crowd’s chatter.

Regulus snickered behind the rim of his drink, “You better go, best man. Looks like your duties aren’t yet over.”

James’ shoulders fell, “What do I say?”

He shrugged. “Maybe you can talk about your favorite memory of the groom,” he teased. “Like when you crossed paths and offered to be his best man the day before his wedding.”

James groaned, “You’re taking too much joy in my suffering.”

Regulus leaned close, speaking into his ear. “You’ll be perfect,” he murmured, lips ghosting the skin. “Dazzle them.” He pulled away, wordlessly slipping back through the crowd and leaving James’ cheeks burning hot.

James’ hands were sweating. And it was strange, because public speaking wasn’t new for him. It was common practice for his job and he’d gotten good enough at it, but usually behind a well-edited and practiced script. Going off the cuff was enough to have his palms liquifying against the warm microphone as one of the twins started to tap their glass with a spare dessert fork.

The room’s mutters went quiet as the eyes went to him at the head table, which only worsened the sweating, making it feel like it was his whole body melting into Ted’s shoes. He took a deep breath. “Good evening, everyone,” he started, keeping the shake from his voice. “Um. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m James Potter. Arthur’s… oldest friend and the one with the honor of being his best man this evening.”

He saw the soft smiles grow, easing his nerves slightly. “I, uh… wanted to… share a bit about how I know Arthur.” He looked over, catching the eyes of the groom who smiled at him warmly and gave a nod that seemed to say, you got this. We’ve practiced. So James took another deep breath and started to recall their conversation. “We became fast friends when I studied abroad in the UK during university. We bonded over classes and our shared values.” He blinked, prompted to think deeper, dig in. “Ever since I first met him, we were able to talk at length about ideas that seemed bigger than just two college buddies. With him, I knew I could open up about things that no one else seemed to so easily understand, because he was one of the most loving and non-judgemental people I had ever met. And I know I’m likely not alone in seeing that.”

There was a pleasant low hum from the crowd as if they too knew exactly what he meant. It encouraged him further, letting him gain steam. “In fact, I remember one of our happiest memories,” he smiled, looking out into the crowd and finding Regulus sitting at a table towards the back with Dora, Andy, and Ted. He was watching James, sitting back in his chair. And even from the great distance across the tent, there was a regal sparkle in his eye that James had admired a million times before. A slight rise in the corners of his mouth that James would have torn through the center of the Earth to put there.

“I remember our trip to New York City,” he said, suddenly. Feeling it reverberate off the walls of the tent. “Afterall, it seemed like the most sensible halfway point between Seattle and the UK.” He heard the polite laughter, smiling at it. “I remember getting slices of pizza. Some of the best I ever had. And I remember ambling around Bryant Park. Just talking. Just… enjoying each other's company.” He found Regulus’ gaze again, seeing that sparkle twice as bright as he willed himself to continue. “But more than anything, I remember the New York Public Library. And how we laid on the marble floors of the rotunda staring up at the mural above us. Prometheus stealing fire from the gods to give to mankind. And you said you loved it so much, you could probably paint it in your sleep.”

James could see it all play out in his head, that slip of darkness in Regulus’ voice and eyes when he was forced to think about his family. And looking back, he should have known then. Afterall, it wasn’t so different from the same slip in Sirius’ face when the conversation went to the same topic. He wished he had realized it then. It would have been so different.

“Well,” he breathed. “Love is a lot like fire, isn’t it? This intangible gift from the gods. It keeps us warm on cold nights. Lights the way when things are dark. But… it’s not eternal. Without care, without tending. That fire is at risk of flickering out.” He swallowed something down with that statement, wondering just where along the way he and Regulus had stopped caring. Or just that they had both cared at different times, about different things. And in the confusion, the fire went out without them even realizing. “Love isn’t everything we want it to be. It’s not always easy, it’s not always pretty. Sometimes, it’s wedding cake and laughter and dancing. And sometimes, it’s tears. It’s difficult conversations. It’s apologies. But that’s the tending, that’s the care. And that’s beautiful too. Because love isn’t about falling in love once, but falling in love with the same person over and over again, right?”

James blinked, feeling the gloss that had collected in his eyes. He shook the feeling off, pulling himself from wherever those emotions were leading him. “All that fluff to say that, I’ve spent some time with Arthur and Molly and I see exactly that sort of care needed to keep love ablaze,” he smiled, looking to the couple who were smiling wide at him with their hands clenched tightly together. “And to you two, if there was anything else to say, it would be this. The best part of tonight isn’t the food, the venue, even the wonderful company. No, the best part of tonight. Is that it is only the beginning. That the best is yet to come.” He reached for his champagne glass on the table, raising it high. “So I raise this toast. To Arthur and Molly!”

“To Arthur and Molly!” the room echoed, raising their glasses in unison.

James passed off the microphone to the Maid of Honor, accepting a hefty pat on the back from Arthur as he took his seat. And while he watched the rest of the speeches play out, he couldn’t hear any of them. So caught up in his thoughts, reflecting on all he’d said and what it meant. Looking to Arthur and Molly as they held each other close and feeling that jealousy sting like crazy again. But realizing that he wasn’t jealous of their companionship, the way they’d found their other half in a crazy world. No, what made him jealous was the freeness of their love and how they so openly expressed it without fear. It had Arthur’s words repeating in his ears.

When you truly love someone, you’ll fall regardless. You won’t care if anyone catches you. You’ll fall to your death happy just to be in love at all.

James raised his gaze towards the back of the tent again. Regulus was still listening closely to the speeches. So lovely and endlessly more wonderful than the faceless, nameless person James had seen in his phone those many months ago. It struck another match in him, reinvigorating a feeling he had perhaps forgotten. And when the speeches came to a close and the final applause faded out so the tune of something slow and sensual could fade back in, he rose from his seat and crossed the length of the tent almost mindlessly. Crowd parting around him as he cut through the noise to the table towards the back, up to Regulus just as he was rising from his seat as well. Catching him slightly off guard to where the man’s expression was tinted with surprise when they came face-to-face.

James could hear his heartbeat in his ears like an ocean current. “Do you want to dance?” he asked.

Regulus’s shock didn’t weaken. “Here?” his eyes widened, panning around at the tent. “In front of-”

“Yeah.”

The man searched his face, maybe for some sort of catch. “Alright,” he nodded.

James offered his hand, watching as Regulus hesitantly took it. His hand so warm and his fingers so long as they slotted between James’. Like puzzle pieces meant to fit together. James pulled him along towards the dancefloor, finding them a spot amongst the other couples. He was unhurried in his movements, not wanting to trigger a panic in Regulus as he slipped a hand around his lower back, drawing them closer together.

Regulus didn’t panic, he didn’t pull away. He put a hand to James’ shoulder, chest expanding in a breath as he started to lead them. And just like last time, at that corner across from the jazz club, it was steady and simple. Two bodies swaying as one to the beat. The man’s eyes didn’t stop staring at James’ and though the surprise had slipped away, it had been replaced by something weaker. He bit into his lips, keeping something contained behind his stare. “I liked your speech,” he said, suddenly.

James eyed him carefully, unable to measure the authenticity in his tone. “Did you?”

He nodded. “It was quite… inspired.”

James felt the creep of a warm flush on his cheeks, “Indeed.”

“You know…” Regulus breathed, eyes drawn to their feet momentarily. “I never thought I’d say this. But… I think I’m glad you came here.”

A laugh broke in James’ throat, “Why is that so hard to say?”

“Because I sort of flew halfway around the world to try and forget you existed.”

James pulled away slightly, “Is that why you came here?”

“I mean, not just you,” he rolled his eyes. “I wanted to forget my career. That I was losing my house. Wanted to forget how everything that had defined me was suddenly lost. But all I was really forgetting was who Regulus Black was without the family, without the house, without the clients.”

James watched him talk, seeing just how hard it was for him to be honest. Feeling the pain in his voice. The depths of his darkest points in which he thought he lost everything.

“But then you showed up out of nowhere,” Regulus shrugged. “As much as I wanted to strangle you for disturbing my suffering, I couldn’t. Because…” his words trailed off, biting into his cheek as he thought. “Well, I guess it felt like you were holding up the mirror I needed to remember that I still exist.”

“Of course you exist. You’re Regulus Black.”

He scoffed, “Whoever Regulus Black even is anymore.”

“Regulus Black-” James squeezed his side, trying to get his full attention, “-is charming when it can get him something. Kind when someone deserves it. Cruel when he’s afraid.” He paused, watching the man’s eyes raise to his. “He’s sensitive and stubborn and downright pessimistic most of the time. But only because he doesn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of letting him down.”

Regulus kept watching him carefully, the navy in his eyes deepening as James spoke.

“Yet he’s elegant without even trying, absurdly funny when he thinks no one is listening, and more clever than anyone I’ve ever met,” James smiled. “And it’s like every single perfection and every single flaw is so delicately balanced, it must have taken the gods ages to craft someone as beautiful and incredible as him.”

Regulus’ expression went dreamy, as soft as the music. He leaned closer, head momentarily falling to James’ chest if only to conceal his shyness. “Ugh,” he groaned through gritted teeth, despite the smile in his voice. “What happened to the James Potter who told me I’d live a miserable life? Who told me to leave?”

James relished the weight of him, letting his cheek lean into his dark hair. “I’m sorry. I was hurt,” he confessed softly. “And I took what you did as a sign that you hadn’t ever loved me. That maybe you weren’t capable of it.”

Regulus’ raised his head, looking up at him. A crease woven between his brows. He shook his head. “That’s not…” his voice trailed off, unable to speak the words.

“I know,” James nodded. “I had it wrong. I know.”

Regulus’ expression withered, his fingers fidgeted with the seam at James’ shoulder. “I was a coward. More than once,” he admitted. “And I’m not proud of it, nor am I deserving of your empathy. Especially after you’ve done so much. You’ve given me everything like it is as natural as-”

“Breathing,” James exhaled, remembering the moment vividly. Regulus curled up on the kitchen floor, crying and insecure and unsure. And now, he was still the same, but so different too. “Maybe that’s true. Maybe giving everything is easy for me. But you were willing to give up your house. You ended your career. Flew to Seattle despite all your stubborn pride. All that after telling me you couldn’t give anyone everything.”

“But I was still too stubborn, too proud,” he protested. “Because I didn’t say it. I didn’t tell you how I-”

“And why didn’t you?” James asked, already knowing the answer. “And don’t say it was pride, because I know it wasn’t.”

Regulus’ expression flickered like a candle threatening to go out. His mouth opened as everything in him went tentative. “I was afraid,” he said with considerable effort. “Afraid it wouldn’t be enough to forgive everything I did. And everything I didn’t do.”

“Regulus Black,” James nearly scolded, reaching up to hold his cheek in his hand. “It was enough,” he smiled. “It’s still enough.”

The man looked up at him. His expression pained, regretful. He swallowed hard, not pulling from James’ touch. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

James swept a piece of hair from his eyes, searching his face for the evidence, “I'm sorry.”

“And I have to get up tomorrow. Help with the clean up.”

James tried to understand what he was inferring. “You want to go then?” he asked. “Maybe I can walk you back.”

“No. You don’t have to,” Regulus shook his head. “I don’t want you to step away if-”

“Reg,” he smiled. “The night’s all but done. They don’t need me.”

Regulus’ hands fell away as his feet came to a stop. Thoughts busy behind his vibrant eyes. “Alright,” he nodded. “Come on.”

It was a short walk between the garden and the guesthouse. Short enough that by the time the pair had walked there in stifled silence, the band could still faintly be heard. Their songs were slower now. Lullabies to send the guests off to sleep. The music became even fainter as the fountain in the courtyard came into view, its trickling water adding another player to the band.

James and Regulus’ hands were still folded together, holding tight as they stood in the courtyard, just a few feet from the guesthouse door. Like perhaps neither of them knew what to say. Trying to elongate the moment for as long as time would allow.

James watched him, moonlight casting shadows through the tall rose bushes that were rustling at every slight breeze. His eyes so perfectly toned to the night sky that they nearly looked black, endlessly deep and dotted with stars. James took as big of a breath as his chest would allow. Looking down at the fingers as they fidgeted with each other nervously. Opening his mouth to speak.

“James,” Regulus breathed, before he could. “James. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He looked at him, seeing his face open and sincere and hurting. It hurt him too. “For?”

“For giving up because it was hard,” his expression pulled in pain, throat going rough at the threat of tears. “For doubting that we could endure it. For stealing away any power you had because I was scared of what you’d do with it.” His shoulders bent inward, grip tightening on James’ hand. “And for keeping secrets, about Barty. About my brother. I was being so foolish, so afraid. I thought if I just kept control… If it was me walking out… I don’t know…”

“You thought losing me on your own terms was less painful,” James whispered.

Regulus winced, eyes welling up with tears. He nodded. “But it wasn’t,” he admitted. “And now, all of it hurts and I just don’t know what we do. I don’t know where we go from here.”

James could hear the confusion in his voice. Overwhelmed and panicked and wanting but not knowing how to get. So buried in what had happened that it didn’t feel like there was a path forward. He closed his eyes, feeling something warm glowing bright in the depths of his chest. He attuned to it, letting it move his lips. “What if I said, it doesn’t matter?”

When James opened his eyes, the stars in Regulus’ gaze were sparkling through his puzzled expression. “What doesn’t matter?” he asked softly.

“If we…” James blinked, trying to find the words. “...Reconcile or not.”

Regulus’ expression hesitated before his brows turned downward in a glare, “How can you say it doesn’t matter?”

“Okay, fine,” James felt his mouth contort, an unwilling smile peeking through. “It probably does. But right now, I couldn’t care less.”

Regulus pulled his hand away, crossed his arms over his chest and let his white dress shirt pull across his taut chest. He shook his head, “You’re not making any fucking sense, darling.”

“I’m saying,” James’ grin widened with a chuckle. “That we both know this goes one of two ways. We leave France together. Or we leave as strangers.”

Regulus winced again at one of those prospects, though James couldn’t be sure which one.

“But I just feel this overwhelming feeling that it doesn’t fucking matter,” he continued, gleefully. “Because all I needed was to know it was real. What we had was real. And now, I do. And, god damn, it makes me so stupidly fucking happy, Reg. So happy that I don’t care if we’ve been over for weeks. It’s like… I don’t know… it’s like the love we had for each other is enough to keep me smoldering warm for a lifetime.”

Regulus took him in carefully, trying to understand. “Is that why you cried last night?” he whispered out, as if he was concerned he’d be overheard over the bubbling fountain.

“Yeah,” James laughed, despite the wetness welling up in his throat. “It’s why I want to cry all over again right now.”

“Hey, no,” Regulus softened, reaching out to grab his hand again. Squeezing it tight. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Baby,” James breathed, so love drunk and hazed by emotion. “It’s more than okay. It’s…” he grated his teeth against his bottom lip. “I can’t even put it into words. You know?”

And for the first time, Regulus smiled too. Small and sad, but smiling nonetheless. “I know,” he nodded. “I know.”

Warmth curled in the pit of James’ stomach as if it had never existed there before. He drew Regulus’ hand up, gripped his wrist as he placed the man’s palm against his mouth so he could kiss into the warm skin. Watching the way it drew his eyes to it, something lively dancing behind his gaze. “I should let you sleep,” James whispered into his skin, before letting his hand fall.

Regulus’ hand slipped down his jaw, his chest, taking his gaze with it. He was pensive again, war playing out across his face.

James leaned closer, his knuckle trailing under Regulus’ chin and raising it enough to meet his eyes. “I loved you,” he told him with stunning conviction. “And I still love you. I love loving you. So much that I don’t care if you can’t find it in yourself to love me again.”

Regulus’ expression softened, the narrow line of his pretty shoulders slumped together. “I loved you too,” he whispered.

And James smiled. Because it was enough. He was content. It was more than he could have ever dreamed of getting. “Good night, Reg,” he curved into him, putting a kiss between his furrowed brows before he pulled away. Taking one last look at him like it would be enough to sate him for eternity before he turned back towards the path up to the main house. Letting the flowers' scent fill his senses, the cool fall breeze dance across his face. And the world felt new and beautiful and alive in a way it hadn’t in a long time.

“James!” he heard Regulus call out as he nearly reached the garden gate. He turned, seeing the man hurrying up the darkened path toward him. Moonlight catching on the high points of his bouncing curls, his handsome face as he rocked up on his toes, leaning into James’ body. He reached up, hands curled up under James’ jaw, his neck and everything went quiet, frozen, paralyzed in freefall as Regulus’ lips brushed James’ for a dizzying moment. The world tilting on its fragile axis before all the negative space sealed together in a kiss.

James’ head swam as his grip stuttered for Regulus’ hips. A gasp in his mouth that he couldn’t release, lungs collapsing as he felt the press of the man’s soft mouth, the slip of his hands. And god, it didn’t feel like their first kiss, it felt like learning to kiss all over again. The buzz of nervous butterflies and the tingle of brushing skin like he was some inept teenager.

Regulus’ motions melted into each other. The brush of his nose when he angled his head. How he drew James’ chin down towards his mouth. His thumb nudging into the space between to drag James’ lower lip down a fraction and slide his tongue in.

James swept his tongue over Regulus’, tasting the faint alcohol on his breath, sweet and smoky. His head spun circles, cartwheels, and he knew that if Regulus had him on a fine thread, the slightest push would topple him over onto the garden path below.

When Regulus pulled away, James tried to chase his lips, an involuntary whine in the high of his throat. Their eyes meeting and their breaths evening as the garden sounds, the distant band, the bubbling fountain filled the space they’d left between them. And James furiously sought why Regulus had kissed him. Knowing it meant more than any words could say. Exactly what the man had said in the heat of their most vicious argument.

A vow for the future.

And it hit James all at once what it meant, what Regulus wanted. A decision made. A vow spoken.

“Well,” Regulus smiled brilliantly, a laugh stitched between his teeth. “Good night then.” He turned back towards the path down to the guesthouse.

James blinked, expression splitting into a wide smile as he raced after him. “Oh, no you don’t-” he laughed, reaching for him again. Turning him in his arms as his hand laced up the back of his neck and into his dark curls to draw him in again. Kissing him with renewed vigor, tongue skittering behind his teeth as his hands gripped tight. The searing kiss frenzied James like a head full of fireworks. Feeling the press of Regulus’ smile like he was nearly laughing too.

And though he had hated, hated each and every day they went without kissing these past few months, he couldn’t deny how much sweeter the wait had made this moment feel.

When they pulled away again, breathless and leaning foreheads together, Regulus nudged his nose with his own before he looked into his eyes. His fingers tightened into the lapels of James’ jacket, pulling him forward. “Come on,” he whispered.

James stumbled behind him as they tore past the garden, up to the guesthouse and in through the French doors that rattled when they slammed shut. Regulus flicked a switch of that bedside lamp with a warm glow, as James reached for him again, pulling him by his hips until they were face to face once more and not hesitating to kiss him again. Crashing together until their teeth clicked, until James’ glasses fogged and Regulus had to pull them from his face and cast them onto the bedside table before diving back into him again.

James’ mind raced, eyes fluttered closed as he felt all the warmth of Regulus’ body radiate through their clothes. The overwhelming high of him infecting him again, even better than before. Muscle memory kicking in as his hands branched up Regulus' back, grasping onto the rises of his shoulder blades as he tried to hold him closer.

They stumbled, three or so steps, before Regulus' back hit the stone wall. James hovered over him, keeping him contained in the shadows as he watched the want in his eyes bloom electric. Their breaths mingled, their own unique brand of understanding in the unspokenness that stitched the space between them tight.

Regulus dragged James closer to kiss him again, licking into his mouth and coaxing a gasp from his throat. James leaned his elbows on either side of Regulus' head, caging him in as his eyes clenched close. Kissing him with bruising strength as he felt the meeting of their bodies trace all the curves and edges. Wanting nothing more than to break him open and crawl inside.

And as much as James wanted to kiss him and kiss him and never let go, there were other immediacies to attend to that were getting harder to ignore. Other ways to occupy his mouth that were occupying his thoughts. He kneeled down before the man, a devotee to a god, looking up at him and seeing the gears turning, clicking into place as Regulus seemed to fall back into a role that he played with such confidence and ease, it was like he was born for it.

There was a distracting firmness in Regulus’ trousers that was filling out on sight. It had James’ veins pounding, brain dizzy as all the blood rushed downwards. Crazed and stupid as he leaned up to kiss Regulus’ cock through the fabric, mouthing it damp as Regulus’ fingers combed through his hair, resting at the back of his head to draw him in harder.

James lifted his head up, looking up at him. “Take it off,” he told him. “Take it all off and let me worship you.”

Regulus smirked, fingers moving as he began to finesse the buttons of his dress shirt open. Shrug it off his demure shoulders and toss it. A perfect, smooth, untouched plane of skin. He deftly undid the waist of his pants, letting them fall open. Pulling hard cock out and letting it delight James’ senses. Made him remember how every part of Regulus looked, smelled, wanting to taste.

He leaned up, tongue peeking out as he herded him into his salivating mouth. He felt Regulus’ shoulders collapse harder into the wall, hips arching up off the surface towards him as a breathless whimper dripped from his lips. Giving James a dangerous power trip that he intended to ride for as long as he could.

“God,” Regulus whispered. “I missed this. I missed you.”

And James knew he meant it deeper than sex. He let the moan in his throat bubble up around his cock, moving against him as his hands wrapped around his bare thighs. He let the precum taste dance against his tongue. Watching him weaken, whine. Coming undone, becoming exposed and vulnerable in new ways.

James pulled away momentarily, sliding two fingers into his mouth to drench them before guiding them between the man’s legs. Placing them up against his entrance, circling it slow enough to draw a groan from Regulus’ mouth, making him preen like the dancer he was, before he sank one slowly into him. Feeling the resistance of a place no one had occupied in weeks. Determined to make it a place just for him from now on.

He sucked his cock again, feeling the muscles constrict his finger before relaxing again. Keeping his touch gentle and eager all at once as he patiently waited for him to open up for another finger, working them in tandem until he tasted the precum twice as strong.

“Fucking hell,” Regulus gasped, pounding a fist against the stone. “No, no-” he went tight, nearly pushing James’ mouth away, but it was too late. He was spilling down James’ throat, clenching hard around his fingers, before his body gave way. Weakening on shaky knees.

James swallowed him down, unphased by his finish as he rose to crowd him again. Kissing at his sharp collarbones, his quivering chest, his strong jaw, and finally, his panting mouth. Drinking up all his post-climax haze as his own body still ran hot, unfinished and unfulfilled.

Regulus pushed him off, sharp eyes meeting his. “What do you want?” he breathed. “I’ll give you anything.”

James smirked, feeling his eagerness to please. He shook his head, “Baby, I just want to see you. Kiss you. Never stop.”

“Stupid fucking romantic,” Regulus smiled bright as he took his hand and led him towards the bed where he sat down on the edge. He started to reach up, undressing James. Pushing his jacket off his shoulders and working on his shirt buttons. There was a purposefulness to his motions, not rushing through them. Taking his time like he enjoyed it just as much as the getting off. He worked open James’ belt buckle, shucking his trousers down until he could kick them off. Laying back on his elbows to stare up at him in star-eyed admiration.

James crawled to him, lacing an arm around his middle to hoist him higher on to the bed before he drew their faces together again, kissing him just as tenderly as before. Just as torturously slow. Filling his mouth with his taste and clouding his mind with his scent.

It was a feeling he’d been chasing for months without even knowing. Having convinced himself he could need less, need nothing, but it was never true. Because he’d wanted this for so long. Not just the kissing, but the openness. The vulnerability. He wanted a Regulus who wasn’t scared of being seen for all he was. And it was happening, it was finally happening, beyond James’ wildest fantasies.

James felt the brush of their bare thighs and chests. Taking Regulus’ face in both his hands, looking at him for a moment and admiring the glow of the lamplight on his face before connecting their lips again. He hummed into the kiss, tasting that slide of Regulus' mouth against his. Knowing that taste couldn’t exist outside of both of them together.

James' knees braced on either side of him. His hands leaving his face to smooth up his sides. Slowly, with care. Like he was trying to take it all in.

Regulus pushed at his chest, breaking their kiss to look up at him. His eyes trailing up and down his body. And in it, James could see all the contradictions that made him beautiful. His softness alongside his fierceness. His insecurities along his strength. So succinctly united that James couldn’t pull good from bad, but instead, all of it coalesced into one stunning image.

Regulus’ hand found its way between James’ legs, swallowing up around his throbbing cock between his fingers and making James hiss through his teeth. His hands scrambled to touch Regulus, gripping into his hips and ass and drawing him closer if only to grind up into him.

Regulus groaned, letting his head fall back against the pillows before he was pulling himself up onto his forearms, watching how James slipped through his tight fist.

James could feel the precum leaking out onto his fingers, giving way to a smoother slide. The sight of it making his eyes water. And his mind kept running scenarios of how this could go down. How he wanted to spill for Regulus, wanted Regulus to spill for him again. He raised his fingers to Regulus’ lips, letting them shove inside as the man whined around them, coated them again.

James pulled them down to the man’s entrance, finding him still just as open as he’d left him. Roughly rooting around inside of him as he watched the sensitivity tighten Regulus’ muscles, his expression before he started to relax into it, knees opening and hips lifting and eyes becoming as inviting as the soft little “o” of his mouth that had James certain he could take him. He smoothed his hand down his thighs, pushing one of them into his chest as he slipped into him.

They both let out a harsh breath as James rocked his hips back, watching as Regulus tried to chase them, before leaning in, sliding deeper and deeper with every motion until the motions became fluid, a steady rhythm. His hands gripped at Regulus' skim, leveraging himself. He rolled himself against Regulus, feeling the way his walls softened for him. The hot throb of his body. Rocking out just to be welcomed back in.

He looked down, seeing how Regulus was hard again, shiny and weeping onto his own stomach. James closed his hand around him. He gripped him with firm fingers, fisting him roughly.

And Regulus pulled himself up, his hand going to James' neck until they were folded together. Their dewy foreheads pressed and their pants mingling. Regulus closed the space, kissing James hard as he breathed deeply through his nose.

And James kissed back, feeling the way Regulus' body became that mix of hard and soft. The soft warmth of his mouth and his walls that were eager to accept him. The throbbing hardness in his hands and the plateaus of taut muscle that stretched out between them. More raw than anything James could have imagined.

Regulus pants were becoming whines, desperate in James' mouth.

He kept pumping him, feeling the way he was coming apart in his hand.

Regulus moaned loud, not holding back as he came into James' fist. The cum smearing between their stomachs. The taste of his moans and the sensation of his cum and the tight pull of his muscles. And James slammed into him with finality, releasing everything with a whine. Slotting into Regulus' neck as the man continued to rock his hips, guiding him through his climax.

James collapsed on top of him. Regulus laced his arms around his middle to pull him close, laying them down side by side on the bed. He held him tightly, contorting his body around him and craning his face into James' neck. They let their breaths die down, their chests even out.

James felt the broadness of Regulus encircling him, nuzzling into him, like every dream he hated waking up from. He pulled back just to look at him, kiss him again. Kiss him like it would give him back all his strength.

Regulus’ face stayed close as he looked up into James’ eyes. A shaky breath in his throat. “James.”

And he could hear it in the man’s voice. The way he was speaking. Not without nerves, not without fear, but despite it. Fighting against it. And that meant so much more.

“I love you,” he said. “And I should have told you the first morning we woke up together. Or in the library when you let me cry in your arms. Or in the kitchen when we fought like crazy. I should have told you a million times. It would have saved us so much trouble. So much wasted time.”

“Hey,” he whispered, smiling wide. Brushing a curl of dark hair away. “It doesn’t matter. Because now, we’ll never stop saying it.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to Regulus’ like they were the home he wouldn’t stop running back to. Feeling the cave of Regulus' tight shoulders around him. “I love you, Regulus Black,” he murmured into his lips.

“I love you more,” he replied, quivering in his arms.

James huffed, “Now, you’re going to get competitive over it? I should have figured.”

Regulus laughed, kissed him again before drawing away. Eyes so round and bright as he bit into his lower lip. “I wanted to ask,” he said, starry gaze hovering on James’ mouth before flicking back to his eyes. “I sort of have a ton of shit to unpack back home. Would you want to come help me?”

James smiled so wide, it hurt. Could have broken his face into two. “I’d want nothing more.”

Regulus leaned over, flicking out the lamp before turning back into James’ arms. Cuddling into his warmth.

“Should I grab another blanket?” James asked, holding him tighter.

“Nah,” he shook his head, nuzzling deeper. “I got the sun right here.”

James wasn’t sure what woke him up at first. All he remembered was the crystalline light spilling between the edges of the curtains onto the brick floor. He blinked once, twice, coming into his heavy body slowly as the sensation of something warm pressed up behind him. When he could finally move his stiff joints, he turned his head, looking over his shoulder as Regulus clung to his back. The sticky peel of skin on skin as they shifted just enough for Regulus to lean in and kiss him.

James remembered as if he hadn’t even fallen asleep, as if all they’d done last night was stay awake like this and they were just continuing. Picking up where they left off. Before they both realized what had woken them up in the first place.

An intent knocking on the glass of the French doors, pounding with the intention of rousing them. They both looked over, too blinded by the sun to see past the sheer curtains.

“Who is it?” James murmured, collapsing back to the pillow as he drew Regulus closer. “And how fucking dare they.”

“It must be Andy,” he said, sounding distracted. He pulled away, onto his feet, and grabbed a robe that was hanging off the chest of drawers. He tied it tight around his narrow waist.

James watched him, brows furrowing, “What do I-”

“Just lay low,” he told him as he went to the door, opening it a fraction and blocking the view of James with his body. “Good morning, my lovely cousin.”

“Glad you’re up,” she said, sounding sarcastic.

“Well, you sounded like you were about to break the glass,” he sassed back. “How about you let me shower and make myself decent and then I’ll be out to help with the clean up?”

“That’s not why I’m here actually.”

James stayed still, listening intently at the heavy pause between them.

“What’s wrong?” Regulus asked, perhaps having seen something concerning in her expression.

Andy sighed, sounding beyond bothered. “He’s here,” she muttered.

“Who?”

“Your brother.”

James’ mouth fell open, sitting up and scrambling for his glasses on the side table as if surely his low vision was messing with his hearing.

“And he wants to talk to both of you,” she said before leaning in a bit further and craning her head around a frozen Regulus. “That means you too, James.”

Regulus stood unmoving for a long moment before he turned, looking back to James in his bed. A look of wide eyed panic plaguing his features. One James was sure was mirrored in his own.

“Shit,” they echoed in perfect unison.

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.”