Archive of Our Own

James recalls a saying: If something seems too good to be true, it probably is. As he stares down at the pictures of his boyfriend with another man, he realises this is one of those times. Memories of the last two years flood through his mind like a movie reel, from the moment they met at the gym to their first-ever holiday to Cornwall for their six-month anniversary. Two nights ago, Caradoc had held his face in his hands and promised him forever.

And now, they have no future at all.

Through the heartache—and yes, he has plenty of it—he tries to think of signs of Caradoc straying. James is a trusting man to those he’s loyal to, never questions or dares to doubt someone he truly loves. Remus and Peter say it’s his downfall, but James wants to believe that everyone is inherently good. It shouldn’t be too surprising that he’s been completely blind-sided by this betrayal.

He flicks through the photos again as he sits on this boring beige couch that Caradoc specifically picked out for them. It goes with the equally dull décor; even the bed for his cat, Snowdrop, is as boring as the rest of the living room. A sacrifice James was willing to make for his beloved.

His ‘beloved’ who is curled up close with someone else.

James can’t see the stranger’s face, only the mop of curly black curls and the far too fancy-looking clothing. He’s smaller than James, slighter. Caradoc had said he liked the sporty types, the ones he couldn’t throw around, but Mister Turtle-neck and Smart Tailored Trousers has clearly never lifted a weight in his life. James wonders if it was always a lie or if Caradoc has simply gotten bored of him.

He isn’t sure how long he waits in this house that James had grown up in and willingly shared with someone who he thought he’d spend his life with. Eventually, he hears the familiar sound of keys in the door and the thump of a briefcase hitting the ground. Caradoc shoos away Snowdrop, as he always does – that should have been James’ first clue, really – and makes his way into the living room,

Caradoc’s smile falters under James’ glare.

“Who is he?”

His boyfriend – ex? - looks confused, big doe eyes wide and blinking slowly at him. James used to find that expression endearing, but the facade of innocence just hits him with a new wave of hurt. Pushing down the overwhelming urge to punch him, James holds out his phone for Caradoc to see. His expression changes then, his questioning gaze turning almost angry.

“Where did you get that?”

“Really? That’s what you’re concerned about?”

James recognises Caradoc’s reaction, a defence mechanism. He’s seen it before when confronted in bars or having strong debates with his family. His hands are clenched at his sides, his face shifting into a blotchy red. James can’t believe the audacity of this man for getting frustrated.

“Were you following me?” he demands.

It makes James laugh. Humourlessly, bitterly. Because he recognises the truth in Caradoc’s reaction, the immediate need to shift the blame. If there was a misunderstanding, that should be the first point to bring up. But no, he just looks mad. Mad at James for finding out, for confronting him.

James answers tiredly, “Peter saw you.”

Caradoc hisses, “Of course, it was the rat -”

“You’re actually cheating on me. Holy fuck.”

He drops the phone on the sofa – this boring, shitty sofa he didn’t even fucking want! - and presses his face into his palms. James feels like crying, the growing ache in his chest becoming near enough overwhelming. Nausea twists through him, his fingers shaking against his cheekbones. But Caradoc doesn’t come over, doesn’t comfort him or try to lie his way out of it.

There’s a thud, and James hears Caradoc sliding down the wall nearby. He tilts his head to the side slightly to see Caradoc pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look. James-”

“Who is he?” James repeats. His voice is strained now. He barely had any fight to begin with, and he has even less now that the worst has been confirmed.

For a moment, Caradoc says nothing. In fact, he just sighs heavily, as though having this conversation at all is a massive inconvenience. When he finally meets James’ gaze, he looks remarkably well-composed. It shatters whatever is left of James’ heart that he doesn’t seem to care.

“This doesn’t need to be a big deal,” Caradoc says, “He’s just some guy, okay. Just a barista. A nobody.”

James has never liked that about Caradoc. His dismissive nature to others’ lives and careers, his ability to put a value on someone for how they make their way in the world. James doesn’t think it’s fair to say ‘just’ a barista. He doesn’t think calling his apparent fling a 'nobody' is fair, either.

But he’ll be damned if he defends the man who stole his boyfriend from him.

“You chucked away our relationship for just some guy,” James bites back in disbelief, “Which cafe?”

“Does it matter?”

“What’s his name?”

Caradoc throws his hands out, “Regulus! Fucking Regulus, alright?”

The name stings more than he expected it to. When Peter first sent him those pictures, it was easy to imagine a completely anonymous stranger, someone who didn’t mean anything at all. For some reason, the name – Regulus – brings him into existence, makes him real. The man who is apparently a nobody, but important enough to ruin the life that he and Caradoc had built for themselves.

James knows he should stop asking. The confession is practically made, and James knows the truth. Caradoc is cheating, and judging from his expression, he doesn’t feel all that guilty about it. But there’s a part of him that needs to understand, hoping to find some sort of clarity within this earth-shattering news.

“How did this even happen?”

Caradoc shifts uncomfortably but answers with a mumble, “I went to the cafe he worked at when I was running late for work. I don’t know. It was harmless flirting. But then he gave me his number, and it just escalated.”

“Escalated,” James repeats weakly, “Did you… how much did you...?”

Caradoc rolls his head to look at him with tired eyes, “You don’t actually want to know the answer to that question, James. Don’t hurt yourself.”

I’m not hurting myself, James wants to argue. You’re hurting me.

But James doesn’t say that. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. Instead, he pushes his glasses up into his messy hair and lets himself cry freely. Caradoc still doesn’t come over. He doesn’t attempt to say anything to absolve him of his guilt, doesn’t beg for James’ forgiveness – although, he truly thinks he should. After about an hour of James sobbing into the couch, Caradoc stands up and makes his way to the kitchen.

The kettle boils.

He makes a coffee.

James hears the door to the spare bedroom open and close again.

He’s never felt more alone.

The following week is nothing but misery. The two co-exist in the same house, passing each other like strangers in the hallway and awkwardly shuffling out of the way when they’re both in the kitchen. Caradoc won’t meet his eye, but he doesn’t seem to care about James’ pain. It’s hard to figure out how this is the same man who cooked him a five-course meal and took him on a romantic getaway just because James had a tough week.

At night, he hears Caradoc laughing on the phone in the spare room and feels rage and despair, unlike anything he’s experienced before. Why is he happy? How can he be fine still talking to the other man while James cries himself to sleep, crawling underneath the covers and questioning why he wasn’t good enough.

A turning point hits when he’s doing the laundry. Somehow, some of Caradoc’s jeans have made it into his load, and he contemplates burning them. But, as he empties the pockets, he sees something that makes his skin crawl: a receipt to a coffee shop – The Whimsical Mug – with a heart drawn on and a smiley face. As he stares at it, he thinks stabbing him might have been less painful.

Even the order – Oat Milk Cappuccino with extra chocolate sprinkles – pisses him off. Caradoc doesn’t even like Oat Milk! And he ordered a croissant, despite his hatred for anything flaky. Then again, maybe that was a lie, too. Apparently, James knows very little about his boyfriend. Or ex. He’s not sure where they stand yet.

But this receipt? Well, it’s just the information James needs. He’s going to find this mystery barista and show him just how much he’s fucked up his life! (Maybe the other man will feel guiltier than Caradoc, but James – as he so often learns – has too much faith in others).

James sets the exact location on his phone and marches his way down there, through the busy streets of his hometown and past his usual coffee joints. It’s slightly out of the way, even for Caradoc’s standards. James is starting to realise that this wasn’t a chance meeting unless Caradoc somehow got lost on his way to work. This was a planned betrayal! James is going to give this Regulus a piece of his mind.

The place itself is annoyingly pretty. It lives up to its name of The Whimsical Mug, that’s for certain. There’s a small garden in front of it, a cobblestone path leading up to the doorway. There are fairylights across the window, a thatched roof and it has a certain cottage-esque feel. He’s not sure how he feels about the gnomes or the unusual fairy ornaments. Still, it’s inviting enough on the outside.

The inside isn’t much better. He’s immediately greeted with the warmth of a crackling fireplace and the smell of cinnamon and Earl Grey tea. The furniture looks like it’s been taken straight out of a fairytale, with plastic toadstool seats and glittery throws chucked across the seats. Vibrant greenery blooms in every spare corner, sometimes peeking in through the perfectly worn wood flooring. James doesn’t think he’s ever seen so many plants in his life .

In any other scenario, James thinks he’d fall in love with the magic here. But he can’t be distracted, not even by the serene atmosphere. So he storms up to the counter and searches for the barista. Only one person is serving, although he can hear a noise out the back to suggest that he’s not alone. His back is to him, but James recognises those curls from the pictures.

This is him. The man who stole his boyfriend.

James clears his throat, ready to start a fight in the middle of this magical place… until the man – no, Regulus – turns. And then all rational thought leaves James completely.

Regulus, and he checks the name tag to make sure it’s the right guy, is unfairly beautiful. His smile is small and delicate, and his grey eyes are soft as he turns to face him. There’s a splatter of freckles across his nose and sharp cheekbones, stark against his skin. He’s wearing some sort of oversized brown jumper, and he looks incredibly too warm and cosy for someone who James is determined to be mad at.

“Hi,” Regulus says, and even his voice is lovely. How can a voice be lovely?! “What can I get you?”

James’ silence changes his expression. And James doesn’t mean to be silent, truly. He even had a speech planned out for when he met this man. But as his gaze turns concerned and Regulus leans over the counter with a mildly caring demeanour, James is having difficulty remembering why he was angry at all.

He hears the chime of a phone, and Regulus’s eyes momentarily divert to a mobile on the side before he meets James’s gaze again. The realisation hits him that the message could be from Caradoc.

And, beauty be damned, James remembers.

“I want an apology,” is what he says.

Regulus blinks, smile altering into something closer suited to customer service. James recognises it well, he’s used it enough on annoying customers and clients.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus replies, “Is there something that wasn’t satisfactory for you?”

“I’ll tell you what wasn’t satisfactory,” James argues, “You slept with my boyfriend!”

Around them, the already peaceful cafe falls deathly quiet. The few customers around have stopped their conversation, James’ raised voice grabbing their attention. They’re glowering at him as though he is the offending party. It doesn’t matter; James isn’t here for their approval. But when he meets Regulus’ gaze, he sees a flash of hurt.

It vanishes as quick as it comes, replaced with a look of extreme impatience.

“Well, thank you for announcing that very loudly in my workplace,” he says dryly, “I’m sure that won’t spark rumours with our regulars and make my life annoying.”

James blinks. He does look genuinely uncomfortable. “Shit. Yeah, sorry,” a pause, “Wait, no, I’m not. You can’t just -”

Regulus interrupts him, “If you’re going to just make up shit and not order anything, can you leave?”

“Seriously?”

Perhaps he did go about this the wrong way. James can be the bigger man sometimes; he can see when he’s made a mistake and accept that he should apologise. But this is ridiculous. Regulus must know who he is from his words and understand why James is here. And yet he’s glaring at him like he’s done something cruel. No, Regulus hurt him first! It doesn’t matter how captivating his eyes are; James will not falter.

It appears that Regulus is equally stubborn, “Seriously. I have bills to pay, and I can’t lose this job because of some guy who thinks I’m in his boyfriend’s bed.”

“You were!”

“Order,” Regulus says coldly. And, oh, even his withering scowl is nice to look at. “Or leave.”

It’s a battle between them, then. One that James is very aware that he’s at risk of losing simply because looking at Regulus should be considered a religious experience. He doesn’t condone cheating, and he’ll never truly forgive Caradoc for it, but…

Well.

At least James can confidently say that he has excellent taste.

For a moment, James wonders how to make Regulus smile again. He looked prettier, honestly. A thought he promptly shuts down. This man is his enemy, damn it!

“Caramel Latte,” James orders, “This isn’t over.”

Regulus punches in the order to the till, “Whatever. That’s £6.50.”

Even in chain establishments, a latte isn’t that expensive. The atmosphere and location are beautiful, but James thinks the price is, quite frankly, unreasonable. His gaze moves past Regulus towards the menu on the wall behind him. He scans the chalk, “Your menu says £3.60.”

“I’m charging extra for grievances,” Regulus answers without hesitation, “Take it or leave it. Preferably leave it.”

Unbelievable.

He passes over a tenner, and Regulus isn’t particularly gentle about it. He pointedly ignores James’ outstretched hand for the change and slams it on the counter instead, turning his back on him to walk over to the coffee machine. As James puts his change back in his wallet, he keeps an eye on the barista, half expecting him to spit in his drink to add more salt to the wound. He’s remarkably professional. And speedy.

He slides the drink over in a takeaway cup – probably a hopeful attempt of getting him to leave – before walking away to serve a new customer who arrives. James half considers taking the hint and leaving, but he hasn’t had answers yet. If Caradoc doesn’t talk to him, Regulus might out of pure annoyance. And he’s got nothing to lose with this mysterious stranger.

But maybe… if he understood, he could salvage his relationship with Caradoc.

He takes a seat by the window, looking over the less whimsical street outside. The weather has already started to shift, and the sunlight that followed James is now shifting into a light downfall of rain. People are ducking into shops nearby or pulling jackets over their heads. James’ eyes follow a couple: one of them sacrifices their coat to put over their partner’s head to keep them dry.

James finds himself smiling despite his own heartache. Love, even now, never fails to make him happy.

The sound of a wooden chair scraping across stone catches his attention, and he looks over to see Regulus taking the seat opposite him. He has his own coffee, black. When he takes a sip from it, he winces and blows the steam over the edge of the mug. The bitter part of James’ mind hopes he burnt his tongue—just a little bit.

James refuses to let him have the first word.

“Just tell me why you did it, apologise, and I’ll be on my way. I need some sort of bloody closure.”

The look Regulus shoots him is nothing short of pure frustration, “I have a boyfriend. I don’t want yours. I genuinely think you might have me confused with someone else.”

“No. You’re Regulus.”

“Yes. But that’s on my name-tag.”

“I knew before I came in here. Caradoc told me.”

“Come on. I don’t know any Caradoc.”

The inability to simply admit it is what finally destroys any shred of James’ patience. The lack of compassion or empathy from the two of them is exhausting. It goes against every philosophy James has about believing in people. The crushing sensation around his ribs increases tenfold; the desperation for some sort of understanding in this situation. He pulls out his phone from his pocket, scrolling to a picture of himself and Caradoc before he slides it over.

Regulus’ eyes widen, and James says, “And I have pictures of you two. I know you’re dating him, so cut the bullshit, will you?”

Silence follows. James only has a chance to feel smug for a moment; he has his proof, and Regulus is rendered speechless. The lack of comment coming from the other man gives James a sense of achievement, the hope that he’ll finally get the truth out of him.

Until he sees Regulus’ shoulders slump, watches as his eyes gloss over. He leans back in his chair, the picture of a defeated man.

This isn’t someone who has just been caught out. This is someone in pain. The realisation hits him.

“Oh. You… You didn’t know he had a boyfriend.”

The answer is a choked-out hurt laugh, and Regulus brushes his hand over his face. But James catches it, the look of absolute devastation. His heart drops; Regulus is gorgeous, and the sight of him heartbroken – something James is intimately familiar with – causes a crush in his chest all over again.

James feels like a piece of shit. He slowly takes his phone back.

“I’m sorry, I-”

Regulus interrupts, voice croaky, “I didn’t know he had a boyfriend, no. Apparently, I didn’t even know his real name. Caradoc? He said it was Benjy.”

Any sort of respect James had left for Caradoc disintegrates at that moment. Not only has he played them both – and he must apologise profusely for yelling at someone who is absolutely not in the wrong at all – but he didn’t even have the decency to be honest with Regulus in the first place. He watches Regulus, who reaches for his coffee with trembling fingers, and thinks this could be what ends them completely.

What an absolute bastard.

“Were-” James hesitates to ask, not sure how much will just make the situation worse, if anything can. “Were you two together long?”

Surprisingly, Regulus answers. With a sombre tone, he says, “Eight months.”

Eight-

This wasn’t a short-term fling, a temporary mistake that Caradoc made. It was months of planned and prolonged betrayal on both parties. James traces back to those sweet days with him, when he never could have predicted that he was living a different life with another man. A man who he lied to about everything.

At least James got his real name.

Regulus looks up at him after taking the tiniest sip of his coffee, keeping his cup close to his lips as though it served as some sort of shield, “What about you?”

James winces, “Two years,” he admits.

Another humourless laugh. The shake is more prominent now, black coffee spilling over his knuckles. James reaches over and slowly lowers his hands, letting the cup settle on the table. Regulus lets him, his gaze slipping away and his cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink. Whether it’s from the touch or the embarrassment of unshed tears, James isn’t sure.

But then… well, they’re not unshed anymore. James watches as Regulus begins to cry. Not loudly, nothing disruptive like the dramatic sobs that James usually gets. No, just silent tears sliding down his cheeks, stifled sniffles like he’s used to keeping his misery quiet. James knocks his knees on the table with how quickly he stands, his latte splattering onto his jeans. His gaze surveys the cafe, landing on a small stand with stirrers, extra sugar and napkins .

He grabs a far too large amount, all but chucking them at Regulus when he returns in what he thinks might be an attempt to comfort him. Regulus looks more alarmed by his sudden movements than anything else, looking between the napkins and James with comically wide eyes.

And then, just as suddenly as James moved, Regulus laughs. Genuinely, this time.

James’ heart flutters, the traitorous thing.

“Sorry,” James tries as he sits next to Regulus instead of opposite him, “I – I didn’t bring tissues. I should have brought tissues. I’m always crying about something. I’m pretty emotional, see.”

Regulus shakes his head, but there’s a fond smile playing on his lips, “No. You? Emotional? I never would have guessed from the way you blustered in here.”

James has the decency to look sheepish. Hindsight is a bitch; he really should have checked that Regulus actually knew about the affair before screaming accusations. Now he just looks like a bit of a twat in front of an annoyingly gorgeous man, and that’s never a position James likes to be in. His arrogant side is withering away, ashamed that he hasn’t put forward his usual charm. He’s always been a bit useless when it comes to this, though.

A loud sigh comes from Regulus, who pulls a napkin to his face and rubs his cheeks roughly. “I have the worst taste in men. I mean, I actually believed he could never stay over because he had to get home and feed his cat . I should have known that there wasn’t a cat.”

“There’s a cat. It’s just my cat.”

James isn’t sure why he offers that piece of information. He’s irrationally annoyed that Caradoc had the audacity to bring Snowdrop into this. Still, he can hardly resist the opportunity to speak about his angel – the only thing that’s really kept him afloat the last week. It definitely helps that Regulus suddenly looks incredibly interested.

So he’s a cat person. Fascinating.

“Your cat?” he asks.

“Yup. You wanna see her?”

Regulus nods, enthusiastic at first, before he seems to recognise his actions and slows the movement. It doesn’t matter; James is already completely endeared to it, but he has a feeling that mentioning that would set Regulus off on some sort of tangent. Instead, he pulls his phone over again. He has a separate album just for Snowdrop, absent of anything Caradoc-related and absolutely perfect for showing her off. He passes Regulus his phone and allows him to scroll through the pictures.

Now, with tears drying on his face, Regulus is positively beaming.

“Found her five years ago when she was a kitten under a pile of snow,” James explains, probably needlessly. But Regulus nods along with the information. “Hence her name.”

Regulus zooms in on a picture of Snowdrop leaning back on the arm of a sofa and chuckles, “Oh, she’s beautiful .”

Then, he starts to ask questions. A flurry of them, actually. What kind of food does she prefer? Is she an indoor cat or an outdoor cat? How often do you brush her? Do you make sure her fur isn’t knotted? Does she have a good bed? Are you looking after her properly?! - Okay, not the last one. But it seems heavily implied under Regulus’ sudden inquisition over the condition of his cat.

James is completely obsessed with it. He foolishly thinks, as he looks between Regulus babbling away about his cat , and the picture of Snowdrop, that he’d adore a picture of the two of them together. He’s never wanted someone to meet his pet so soon before…

Is that a thing? If it is, he’d be a third date man before anyone got the honour of meeting Snowdrop.

Not Regulus, though. James would drag him home right now, really.

… That’s not good, he realises.

He pushes it to the side and does the noble thing—after all, his mother and father taught him to always step up when he was in the wrong. James clears his throat, and Regulus tilts his head back to look at him. He seems considerably less sad now that he’s gone through a slide show of Snowdrop.

“I’m sorry I barged in like that. I – I was angry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, though.”

Regulus smiles. It’s soft again, like the one James first got when he walked in. But it’s lacking in sharpness; no longer for customer service, but because he means it. “Don’t worry, I would have done the same thing. Worse, probably. I’m pretty vindictive.”

Yeah. James believes that.

“I didn’t love him, if it helps,” Regulus adds on, passing back his phone, “Not yet, anyway. I wouldn’t have even looked at him twice if I knew… well.”

He gestures. James raises an eyebrow, and Regulus gestures more insistently, his eyes trailing down the length of James’ body before he meets his eyes again. Oh . A warmth blooms in his stomach, a grin breaks across his lips as he catches the implication of Regulus’ actions.

“Well…?” he asks in a teasing tone.

Regulus huffs and states, very matter-of-factly, “You’re attractive. Obviously. I clearly picked the wrong person to hook up with in the relationship.”

“I wouldn’t hook up with you if I was in a relationship. I’m not a cheater.”

“And that only serves to prove my point.”

He looks genuinely pleased. James has to say he feels the same. He holds out his hand.

“James Potter,” he introduces himself.

Regulus stares at his hand, amusement flitting over his features. He’s slow to reach for him, fingers trailing across James’ palm lightly until he grasps his hand. Such a simple touch has his mind going in a frenzy and, judging by Regulus’ expression, he knows the exact effect he has. How can James be so doomed after thirty minutes?

… Remus would tell him that’s pretty on brand for him, actually.

“Regulus Black,” is the response. “It’s nice to meet you, although the circumstances could have been nicer.”

James laughs, “Sure. I could have used some of my best lines in another scenario.”

“Nothing is stopping you now.”

He feels out of his element, talking to someone who can retort with ease. There’s still a light blush on Regulus’s cheeks, perhaps betraying that his sudden confidence is a facade—much like James’ own most of the time. But it’s… something. And perhaps James should consider his own morals. After all, how many love stories start with someone dating ‘the other person’?

James’s could.

But not while he has other things to sort out. Regulus is gorgeous, but James has a history of moving too fast, too soon. No matter how much his heart insists that this meeting happened for a reason, he has to consider his own circumstances.

It pains him, but he drops his hand.

“I haven’t broken up with Caradoc yet,” he tells him.

Regulus’s expression turns carefully blank. James doesn’t think there’s any real judgment there; he’s just guarded.

“Are you going to break up with him?”

“Absolutely. But it might take my heart a while to get the message,” James says, although he’s halfway over him already. Regulus still nods in understanding. “Are you?”

Regulus smiles, “Yes. I’m already on the market, actually.”

James has never been more happy for someone to be suddenly single.

There’s a commotion behind them, and James turns to see another barista—the one who replaced Regulus, more than likely—dropping a box of milk cartons. Blonde hair falls into her face, but she’s grinning. James’ eyes drift down to her name-tag, Pandora, before he goes to stand up. Regulus stops him with a sigh.

“No, it’s okay. She’s always this clumsy,” he pauses before adding, “Especially when she’s eavesdropping.”

Pandora looks over at them and seems completely unashamed by the accusation. She genuinely looks ecstatic, “Are you actually doing it? Leaving him? I told you, Regulus, he had a terrible aura-”

“He didn’t have any aura- ”

“Well, I didn’t like his face, then. Breaks over, babe.”

Regulus gives another sigh, loud and put on. He’s still smiling at Pandora softly, so they obviously have some sort of understanding. James is just unhappy that he has no excuse to hang around anymore. From Regulus’ hesitation to leave, he hopes the feeling is mutual.

There’s a pause before Regulus says, “Can I get you another coffee before you go? An apology? Free, of course.”

James rolls his eyes fondly, “You have nothing to apologise for.”

“Still… Caramel Latte again?”

“Yeah, please.”

It’s adorable how Regulus scurries behind the counter and starts making his order. Pandora starts to whisper something to him, placing the milk into the fridge as he works on his drink. Regulus is shushing her but when Pandora meets James’ gaze, she winks at him. She says, loud enough for him to hear, I approve of his aura.

There is no aura!

Yeah, James thinks, that’s probably a good sign.

When Regulus finishes his drink, he slides the cup over. He’s nicer about it this time, almost shy. James catches the writing on the side, thick black ink with the same handwriting he found on the receipt that brought him here. He turns it and sees a phone number with a note written underneath it.

‘For when you’re over him x’

He laughs, “You’re bold. I’ve only just become single.”

Regulus sends him an exasperated look, “The fact that you are single at all, James Potter, is truly a crime. Have a nice day.”

It’s a dismissal. But James watches as Regulus rushes off to the storeroom. Pandora follows him, apparently uncaring about the potential customers that might come by. The door shuts behind them, and immediately, he hears squeals of excitement.

Cute.

He takes the time to save Regulus’ number on his phone and sends him a quick heart.

By the time he’s left The Whimsical Mug , he’s already deleted half of his and Caradoc’s photos together.

James doesn’t know where the last two months of his life have gone.

He feels surprisingly light as he stands in front of his mirror and debates what shirt would look best with the jeans and smart shoes he’s thrown on. His job is going well, and he sees his friends more often. Hell, James has even picked up a new hobby. Who knew baking small treats and creating unique coffee concoctions could be so much fun?

Heartbreak can only last for so long when his life is going so beautifully.

Especially when James takes a step back and realises he loved being in a relationship more than he actually loved the guy he was in it with.

James pulls on a maroon shirt, walking over to the full-length mirror to look at the outfit all together. With a blazer, it might be suitable for a fancy restaurant. But if he unbuttons the top two buttons, it’ll look more casual. Like he’s not been dreaming of this day since he first imagined it two months ago.

Through the reflection, he sees Caradoc stop by his door. His ex has been… an annoyance. They’ve not been rude to one another, but the obvious end of their relationship has been a sore point. Still, James has been generous enough to let Caradoc stay in his house – because it’s still in the Potter name, after all, until he sorts himself out. They sort of coexist, not really talking but not completely ignoring one another either. Honestly, James just wants him to leave so he can have the space to himself again.

Caradoc knocks on the side of the door, “Hey, can we talk?”

That’s new.

“Sure,” James says as he reaches for a jacket and tries it against his outfit, “I’m heading out in a bit, though.”

Unperturbed, Caradoc comes into his room uninvited. He sits on the edge of the bed – something that makes James wrinkle his nose in disgust – before he looks at James with an earnest expression. James gives him a second glance before he continues getting ready.

He doesn’t have time to completely indulge him, after all.

“I’ve been doing some thinking-”

James snorts, “Dangerous.”

Caradoc waves him off, “We had a good relationship, you and I.”

Oh.

Oh, no.

He pauses in his attempt to find accessories to fix Caradoc with a completely blank expression. Because after two months – nearly three, actually, since he found out about the affair – he’s not said a damn thing. Not an apology, not an explanation. Caradoc hasn’t even attempted to keep them together.

Caradoc continues, “Actually, I think I maybe took it for granted.”

James answers, “No, you did take us for granted. There’s no maybe.”

“Right,” Caradoc agrees uneasily, “Because… I think we had something really special.”

“So why did you sleep with someone else?”

“I think I’d grown too comfortable,” Caradoc explains. His lack of thought in his response makes James believe he’s probably rehearsed this. “Everything was perfect and… I wanted some excitement, I suppose. Regulus was just a bit of fun.”

James remembers the way Regulus’ expression crumbled and how he had to wipe his tears away with coffee shop napkins. James scowls. “Did he know that?”

Caradoc doesn’t answer. Truthfully, he probably doesn’t have a good answer. “Look. Regulus and I, we’re done. Have been done for months.”

“I know.”

“And it’s given me a lot of time to reflect.”

He gets to his feet and James doesn’t like that at all.

“I should never have walked out on you,” Caradoc says, taking slow steps towards James. Suddenly, his large room seems incredibly claustrophobic. “If this experience has shown me anything, it’s that my love for you is real.”

Love? As if.

Caradoc almost reaches him, but James holds his hand out to stop him. Thankfully, his ex has enough common sense to stop, but he still has that determined look in his eye. A few months ago, James would have found that hot. Now, he just thinks Dearborn is a little bit too arrogant.

“I’m in love with you, James Potter,” Caradoc whispers.

He used to crave those words. Now, he just blinks.

“That’s nice.”

With appropriate distance between them, James goes back to the mirror. He’s happy with his choice of shirt, but he’s wondering if he should have gone for a jumper instead. The English weather typically gets colder in the evenings, and he likes the idea of giving his coat to someone else. He doesn’t want to freeze in the process, though.

Would a shirt and a jumper work?

“And… how do you feel about me?”

Oh, right. Caradoc is still here.

James shrugs on the jumper. Yes, that works nicely.

“Pretty indifferent, honestly,” he answers eventually.

The doorbell sounds before Caradoc can question him – and judging by the outraged look on his ex’s face, he will be doing a lot of talking. James’ heart picks up, and he checks his watch. He still has time to get ready, but James can’t help but feel pleased at the overeagerness of his company being twenty-five minutes early.

“I’ll mock him for this,” James says happily as he brushes past Caradoc.

Caradoc splutters, “Him? Who’s him?”

James ignores him, taking the stairs two at a time to get to the door. When he opens it, his mind goes blank. But Regulus Black has always had that effect on him.

He’s wearing a dark green turtle-neck, a thin black jacket pulled across his chest. His cheeks are lightly flushed from the cold air, and he’s smiling softly in a way that makes James lose all coherent thought. Those grey eyes he’s completely fallen for trail over James’ outfit, and he gets a hum of approval for his efforts.

Good.

“Hi, baby,” James greets, taking his hand and pulling him in from the windy weather, “You look lovely.”

Regulus just makes a small noise. He’s never been good at accepting compliments.

Two months ago, James stepped into the Whimsical Mug expecting to start a fight with the man who stole his boyfriend. Instead, he’s found someone who he feels completely content with. He’s never really believed in love at first sight, no matter how much his friends love to mock him and his hopeless romantic side. Still, he thinks whatever he encountered with Regulus is the closest thing.

They’ve been texting nonstop, meeting up outside of work, and talking for hours on end about everything and nothing at all.

He’s shown up for his job late in the morning because he couldn’t hang up the phone the previous night, forgoing sleep just to listen to Regulus talk. He’s taken extra work days off just because he thinks Regulus will like a museum exhibition. Regulus does the same, showing up at his work with a new bakery treat he’s created for James’ approval.

James is already so completely gone for him. Whatever he felt for any of his exes pales in comparison to the man in front of him.

“Okay, so – the show starts at 8pm,” James tells Regulus as he fishes the musical tickets out of his jeans pocket, “I thought we could grab a bite to eat first? Unless you’ve already eaten?”

Regulus takes the tickets. He’s been wanting to see this for years, or so he told James. “No. I only had time to get back from work and get ready.”

James doesn’t point out that Regulus is, in fact, very early, “Cool. Well, there’s this little Italian Bistro that-”

“What the fuck?”

They both turn. Caradoc is standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring between Regulus and James with… maybe anger? James isn’t sure. His face has gone blotchy red, and his eye might even be twitching. It doesn’t matter to him, anyway.

“Oh, you’re still here,” James says dryly, “This is my date, Regulus. You’ve met, I believe.”

Caradoc stares, “You two know each other?”

“We didn’t. I went into his cafe ready to fight him and fell head over heels instead. Bit typical, actually.”

Regulus nudges him, “Shut up, you did not.”

James grins down at him, “I absolutely did. I was so mad at you for being pretty.”

“Yeah, well. I’m still mad at you for -” It looks like Regulus is about to compliment him. He usually frames it as an insult, but James can read between the lines. This time, he pauses. Confusion flickers across his features before he turns to Caradoc. “Actually, I have to ask. What is wrong with you? Have you seen James? Have you spoken to him? How could you even go anywhere ? He’s -”

It seems Regulus has realised what he’s rambling about. He flushes a deep scarlet and ducks his head into his coat. James is positively giddy.

“Go on. What am I?”

Regulus glares, “No. You already have a big ego.”

James reaches for him, stroking his finger across his cheekbone, “Aw, come on. Indulge me.”

And because his increasingly annoying ex-boyfriend can’t read the room, he interrupts their moment once again. James regrets being nice enough to let him stay.

“Is this some sick joke to get back at me?” Caradoc demands.

James and Regulus share a mutual look of exasperation before James simply responds, “You’re not that important, mate.”

And honestly, he’s not. James thought it would take months, maybe years, to get over what Caradoc did to him. During those first few days, he didn’t know what he’d do without him. Now, James can easily forget he even exists. Those two years mean nothing, not really. The only positive, as far as James can see, is that through his sham of a relationship with Caradoc, he met Regulus.

Regulus, who stares up at him with a look of adoration that Caradoc never gave him. James smiles back at him.

“Let me grab my wallet, and we’ll grab some food, yeah?”

“Shall I wait outside?” Regulus asks before shooting a glare at Caradoc.

James laughs, “Nah. I’ll only be a second.”

He makes his way back up the stairs, barely paying mind to Caradoc as he passes. Of course, the idiot follows him to his room, stomping up the stairs as he does so. James ignores him, searching through his room for his wallet. He might have left it in his jacket…

Ah, yes, James remembers. He treated Regulus to breakfast this morning. It should be in that coat-

“Are you punishing me?”

Good God, his voice was annoying.

“Nope,” James says, “I wasn’t joking, Caradoc. I really couldn’t give less of a shit about you. Although, I should thank you. If you didn’t cheat on me, I wouldn’t be as happy as I am now. Regulus is great. Pretty sure he might be my soulmate, actually. You never did believe in those.”

He pulls on his coat, making sure it’s the one Regulus likes the most and checks his wallet quickly.

James adds, “Regulus believes in soulmates. If you were curious.”

Caradoc’s expression twists; disbelief, hurt, and perhaps a hint of regret warring across his features. It looks like he wants to say something, anything that might make James stay. It doesn’t matter. Even in another universe, James wouldn’t pick Caradoc. Not if Regulus existed.

“Don’t wait up,” James says with a smile and a dismissive hand wave. This time, as James heads to the stairs, Caradoc doesn’t follow him. And soon after, he hears the spare bedroom door open and close. God, James hopes the man will move out soon so he can close this chapter of his life for good.

Regulus is waiting for him, crouching down and giving Snowdrop attention. His cat has been spoiled absolutely rotten since meeting Regulus, who probably spends half his pay-check on treats and toys for his cat. Regulus even demands to see her before they start every video call, as though James’ conversation isn’t enough, and he needs to see his beloved pet to be truly content.

James has plenty of pictures of them together now. One of them is his phone screen background.

As he reaches them, Snowdrop meows loudly and scurries away. She’s mad at him for some reason, probably because he didn’t give her a third serving of breakfast that morning. Regulus gets to his feet, pouting after his retreating cat, and James feels overwhelmed with sudden love and gratitude. He reaches for him, cradling his face softly in his hands and melts when Regulus leans into him.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t give you a proper hello.”

Kissing Regulus is always a dream. He melts under any gentle touch and clings to him as though he’s scared James will let go. In this moment, nothing else exists. He feels only the warmth of Regulus’s touch, the softness of his lips against his own. Holding Regulus close, James feels a sense of completeness wash over him.

Nothing has ever felt as right as this.

As he pulls away, Regulus hums happily.

“Missed you,” James murmurs.

Regulus laughs, resting his head against James’ shoulder, “You saw me this morning.”

“And I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’ll still miss you in between times.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Between pecks across his face, James pulls Regulus outside. He thinks about the quickest way to the bistro and what radio station he should put on to make Regulus the happiest. His date seems perfectly happy right now, though, batting him away lightly but clinging to the bottom of James’ coat as soon as James takes a step too far away.

As James locks up, Regulus’ gaze goes to the window, “We’re coming back here later, right? I want to see Snowdrop properly.”

James sighs, “Will you ever love me more than my cat?”

“Maybe, but you’ve got competition.”

He turns on his heel, heading towards James’ car without invitation—not that Regulus ever particularly needs one. James follows him and listens as Regulus starts to tell him about the horrible customer he had to deal with at the Whimsical Mug today and what new baked goods they’re advertising this week.

James marvels how this all started from heartbreak.

As he stares at Regulus now, he knows, somehow, heartbreak isn’t something he’ll have to worry about again.