Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

crumbs in a couch cushion  

i just had the weirdest fucking dream

okay, so, picture this right:

i’m swimming in some unidentified body of water

doesn’t matter much 

but out of absolutely fucking no where 

all the characters from dragon tales show up on an island 

and invite me to stay 

and i said fuck yeah cause hello? 

dragon tales dragon tales its  almost time for dragon tales

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I can’t believe there was ever a time when I thought you were cool, and smart, and I looked up to you.

You have literally nothing in your brain.

crumbs in a couch cushion  

and to think i shared my dream about dragon tales with you. i could’ve texted your BROTHEr but i CHOSE YOU MOTHERFUCKER and THIS is how you repay me??? next time a bunch of cartoon dragons and i teleport off an island and go to a rave i’m texting remus 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

It’s 8 am why are you giving this the level of dramatics that senior theater kids give their 1 am IHOP speeches? 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

et tu brute????????????

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

xx

crumbs in a couch cushion 

[I’ve Got A Girl -Flyte] 

i’m playing my little guitar and singing my little songs 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Thank you for the incessant narration. I have to write this in my diary at once. Dear Diary, today James Potter ‘played his little guitar, and sang his little songs’! 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

when i’m famous and girls and boys (and the mythical beings in between) are swooning you’ll be able to sell that for some serious cash

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Riding your coattails sounds horrific, I’d much rather keep making fun of you from your pocket.

crumbs in a couch cushion 

oh my god???? 

Regulus Artery Black??? 

are??? 

YOU???? 

Flirting???

 with???? 

ME?!1!1!1?

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I wish I could light you on fire through telephone lines. 

crumbs in a couch cushion  

that sounds like a fob lyric

It's like that line in bang the doldrums 

yk 

‘but i’d cast a spell over the west to make you think of me the same way i think of you’

but make it more repressed 

so

‘but i’d light you on fire trough telephone lines to keep you burning the same way i am’ 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

You make no sense, ever. 

It’s simply astounding. 

crumbs in a couch cushion  

babe i am not listening anymore

i’m headbanging (your mom) to fob 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Like your curls need more help in their mission to be the most disastrous rat's nest.

Also, my mother is dead, Potter.

Pay some damn respects. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

rip whattaburger burgendy balck

black*

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

I’m calling your mother and telling her she raised a completely incorrigible nightmare.

I’m sorry, that would be unbelievably disrespectful towards your mother.

She could never be responsible for…this. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

she already knows, BAYBEE

she was there before i got the adhd diagnosis 

pre-medicated 😳😝😏

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Go back to singing, this has turned traumatizing.  

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i knew you liked my magical voice

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Sorry for the delay, I had to vomit. 

crumbs in a couch cushion  

lily wants you to know that she thinks we will all eventually get together and have a threesome 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

You owe me a shirt, Potter. 

My new white button-down seems to have acquired a coffee stain. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

it was lily!

i’m just the messenger!

dont shoot the messenger regulus it's in bad taste 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of readying my crossbow. 

crumbs in a couch cushion  

hot 

actually please shoot the messenger 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

Heyyyyyyy pretty baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

let’s do the thing where we order each other take out

im starving

but i need a meal with loveeeee

be my loveeee regulusssss 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Stop begging Potter, I’m not into your kinks. 

Your food will be there in 45 minutes. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

THANK YOU

I love when you love me. 

your food was already ordered before i asked xx

want to facetime while we eat? 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Needy, needy. 

I’m showering first.

I’ll call you in 20. 

crumbs in a couch cushion  

cleaning up for me

for our…

dinner date!

cute. 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I will choke you. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

don’t threaten me with a good time 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

[The Ballad Of Costa Concordia - Car Seat Headrest]  

crumbs in a couch cushion 

bad day then 

you don’t have to respond

i know how it gets 

but you’re only alone when you hide or get trapped inside your head 

[Ache With Me - Against Me!]

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

[image: regulus, a young man with pale skin, well-groomed dark hair, a sharp aristocratic nose, a judgemental browbone, sea salt eyes, and a soft mouth, stands in front of a mirror. He is in black, no-nonsense slacks, a (tucked-in) flowy white button-up, and a black velvet vest with silver buttons and a scooped neck. A simple silver cross is around his neck, and a signet ring with the House of Black seal adorns his left hand.]

crumbs in a couch cushion 

pearls! 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

[image: regulus, a young man with pale skin, well-groomed dark hair, a sharp aristocratic nose, a judgemental browbone, sea salt eyes, and a soft mouth, stands in front of a mirror. He is in black, no-nonsense slacks, a (tucked-in) flowy white button-up, and a black velvet vest with silver buttons and a scooped neck. A string of pearls and a simple silver cross is around his neck, and a signet ring with the House of Black seal adorns his left hand.]

crumbs in a couch cushion 

[image: james, a young man with brown skin, unruly curls, a broad and open face, a take-no-prisoners jaw/chin, a happy smile curling, and dark oak eyes, poses in front of the camera. He is wearing worn in light-wash jeans, a patterned collared undershirt, and a tan crewneck. He is leaning on a cane that looks like a small wizard’s staff.]

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Cane day, then? 

Where’s the pain?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

knees and hips (to the tune of head shoulders knees and toes) 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

How bad is the pain?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i’m fine 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

What a non-answer. 

Drink lots of water, motherfucker. 

And for god's sake sit down when you need a break, there’s no need to be a hero. You’re at uni, not a fantasy world. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i wish you were here so i could whack you in the ankles with my cane ://

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

I miss you too, James. 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

That doesn’t make sense, James. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

get fucked 

you can’t tell me mars is better than pluto 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

That’s not what I’m saying.

You know Pluto was my favorite planet growing up. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

THEN WHY CAN’T WE SWITCH IT OUT FOR MARS

MARS SUCKS

OR MERCURY

OR EVEN IDK ANYTHING

PLUTO WAS THE SHIT

YOU CAN’T UNINVITE A FUCKING PLANET LIKE WHAT 

SORRY LOL YOU CAN’T SIT HERE 

BITCH??????? IT'S A PLANET NOT A SOCIALLY AWKWARD NERD 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Glad to hear you wouldn’t sit with a socially awkward nerd.

I thought I knew you James, but in front of me stands a stranger. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

the fucking dramatics

okay i’m sorry to interrupt but I HAVE TO PEE SO FUCKING BAD
AND THE BATHROOM I’M AT IS LOCKED
PLEASE GOD PLEASE LET ME IN
I’M GOING TO PISS MY FUCKING PANTS 

regulus i’m dead serious right now. 

if i have to go to the bathroom across campus.

i will piss myself in the courtyard. 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Do it.

That would make my day marginally better. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

okay talk about my kinks all you want but at least i don’t have a thing for PISS

but honestly i’d try anything for you 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

How would you pissing yourself in the courtyard of your university, that I do not go to, and would not see happen, feed my made-up piss kink?

crumbs in a couch cushion

SHUT UP ALL MY BRAIN CELLS ARE BEING USED TO CLENCH MY BLADDER 

<accepted his fate as stupid> 

IM RUBBUGNG REGUKUS IN RUNJGNG

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

You’re…rubbing?

I’m sorry, I don’t speak Klingon. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

I’M RUNNING TO THE BATHROOM

I ALMSOT BROke MY LEG
AND ALMSOT RAn AN UNSUSPeCTING GIRL OVER

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Did you die?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

regulus. 

this is so fucking embarrassing. 

i’m offing myself tonight.

i just tripped in front of so many people.

i’m limping to the bathroom.

i

i’m never drinking coffee ever again.

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Have you pissed yourself yet?

crumbs in a couch cushion

how do you have literally any friends?

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

My dazzling empathy.

crumbs in a couch cushion

pissing. 

NOT in my pants.

sorry to disappoint. 

you’ll have to get your rocks off some other way.

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Maybe your dad is free? 

crumbs in a couch cushion

REGULUS.

clutching my pearls tbh

also mildly proud of you

but mostly clutching my pearls

my father is happily married

don’t be a homewrecker. 

the betrayal

blur cover band

jamie lee curtis

i just tripped and fell while running full speed to the bathroom

because i was texting a certain unnamed man

this is becoming an issue.

rheumatoid arthritis 

becoming? It’s been an issue for years, James, you just lacked self-awareness

jamie lee curtis

god sometimes i wish i still did

peter pan (hide the tights) 

LMAO

Did you hurt yourself?

jamie lee curtis

…

i scraped my hands 

and landed on my knees hard

but like

its more my ego

peter pan (hide the tights) 

Afraid I cannot spray antiseptic on your emotional complex.

siriusly fucking stupid (she/her)

you fell for him

literally

You LITERALLY fell for him

rheumatoid arthritis 

we got it, love

siriusly fucking stupid (she/her)

hush. 

but james

Baby 

what about us???

I thought i was your one true love????

now … you’re tripping over yourself… for…other…boys 

rheumatoid arthritis 

its not even a boy day today 

siriusly fucking stupid (she/her)

remus. 

shut up.

that is NOT

the point.

jamie lee curtis

I’M SORRY BABY

YOU’RE THE ONLY GIRL (?) IN MY LIFE

I LOVE YOU

BE MY BRIDE

siriusly fucking stupid (she/her)

i accept. 

rheumatoid arthritis

should've known i'd lose my girlfriend to you potter 

collecting the whole set aye? 

peter pan (hide the tights) 

It’s so straight in here right now.

siriusly fucking stupid (she/her)

for shame, peter.

for fucking shame. 

(also the moon will ALWAYS have my heart REMUS)

rheumatoid arthritis 

STRAIGHT

HAHA

SIRIUS AND STRAIGHT IN THE SAME SENTENCE

(yeah, yeah, sweet talker)

jamie lee curtis

a bisexual boy and a genderfluid pansexual walk into a bar…

peter pan (hide the tights)

I think “girl (?)” has got to be one of the funnier things James has said.

siriusly fucking stupid (she/her)

“GIRL (?)” or “BOY (?)”

( ;) )

jamie lee curtis 

that was so many parentheses it gave me a headache good fucking LORD

rheumatoid arthritis 

scientists still don’t know smh 

Sirius Black changed their name to siriusly fucking stupid (GIRL (?))

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

James Potter.

Why is there a parcel here, for me, from you?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

bcos that’s how the post works! 

c’mon regulus you’re a big boy you should know this by now

anyway

OPEN IT

RIGHT NOW

pkease

I’m so essjdfe

excited 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Snickerdoodles. 

It’s. Snickerdoodles. 

And new paintbrushes.

You demon. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

you always need new ones

and they’re your favorite cookies 

and i was stress baking LOL

so gifts to you

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Thank you. 

You have rather good timing. 

This is lovely. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

it was nothing! 

genuinely. happy to do it 

anytime, babykins 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You’re a plague on my life. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

and you don’t want to get better baby!

i’m that cough you can’t kick! 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

you said i had good timing 

what did you mean? 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Life, it appears, is not always enjoyable. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

do you want to talk about it…?

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You know I don’t. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

will you anyway? 

you should 

and 

okay maybe it’s not should or shouldn’t 

but it might be nice 

not being alone? 

i’m just

it doesn’t have to be me

it can be anyone 

but i’m here 

i can be serious 

i can be here 

for you 

my god i’m going to shut up 

but just

i care about you…shut up don’t say anything. and you aren’t alone anymore 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You truly are a man of many…many words.

I will take you up on that, James. 

Thank you. 

CW: I’m going to be talking about my childhood and touch aversion and such, please take care of yourself, James.

It’s, a mix of things. You know a lot of it, from being around us as children, from Sirius staying with you, from what I’ve let slip. 

I was reminded of a particularly gruesome moment of my adolescence and it has followed me all day. I know, logically, I’m in my flat, but it feels like I’m there again. 

I’m distinctly uncomfortable in my skin, in my home, in my life, in my name. 

After all these years, she still has the power to make me feel like I have no claim on my own person. 

I feel like I’m still mourning a childhood I never got to have. I know I’m not entitled to anything but I also know how lucky I /could/ have been but…simply wasn’t. 

I miss being boys with Sirius, scraping our knees and pushing each other around (and then him reading to me because secretly we really loved each other). 

There’s so much relief in being an adult and having my own security and my own life and my own space and such. But the loss of it all is a well inside of me. 

The other half of all of this was someone touched my arm as they passed by and it just, really fucked me up. Which is entirely embarrassing but what can I do? I don’t want to curl into a ball every time someone brushes past me but I also want nothing more than to sink into the floor. 

Some days I stay in my room because it feels like the only safe place, still. 

But it’s so hard to remember that it’s not.

I’m not in that constant danger anymore. 

My lungs aren’t used to breathing freely. 

…I may have had some wine. Feel perfectly free to ignore my ramblings. 

I’m not drunk, but I am loose enough to have dumped a very expensive therapy bill worth of shit onto you. 

crumbs in a couch cushion  

You are, by far, the loveliest boy I have ever met.

She cannot take /that/ away from you. 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

How did you…

crumbs in a couch cushion 

I had a feeling that it might be something you needed to hear. 

Because she can spew her bullshit and dig marks into your arms, 

but she cannot change that you are Regulus. 

And you always have been. 

And on the matter of feeling like you’re still trapped there: 

you aren’t, but there will always be that part of you that grew up there and holds those horrors. 

You’re strong and you’re kicking ass (if you realize it or not) but healing isn’t linear, and no one expects you to scrub yourself clean and forever be okay.

Well you might expect yourself to do that, but no one with half a brain does. 

I’ll curl up into a ball with you, a respectful distance away. 

And we can talk about the newest story you’re agonizing over. 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I’m. 

I’m not sure I deserve you in my life. 

I’m going to say something because I’ve had a bit more wine than I’ve let on. 

But you are not allowed to speak of it, ever again.

Understood, Potter?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

sure you do, i'm just a boy

also yes, sir yes sir understood 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I have this memory, or string of memories, swirling around my head. 

You were always too kind for your own good. 

Just good, to the core. 

Even as a kid, you always wanted to help the people who didn’t deserve it.

Anyway, I was a clumsy kid, I’m sure you remember.

Sirius will never let me live it down. 

And whenever I got those small hurts around you, you’d look so worried and kiss the spot I bumped and say, “my mum says love is magic. So, she kisses me when I’m hurt, like a healing spell.” And then grin at me in that little kid way that was so proud and pure. 

And that time I took a spill down that slope by your house? And you hugged me to your chest like I might fall apart if you didn’t personally hold me together. 

I don’t really have a point. I’m just thinking about it. Or about you I suppose. 

The bright spots in an inky black. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

if you’re getting sweet and nostalgic you need to put the bottle down reg 

don’t get me wrong i am absolutely basking in your praise right now 

thank you for the ego boost 

but sober you is going to be very cross with drunk you 

you deserved all those little loves, alright? 

and they’ll also always be yours.

and i have more where those came from

so 

get a glass of water 

get THREE glasses of water 

put benjamin or pride and prejudice on

get comfortable 

keep texting me because i like that part of this 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

I apologize if I made you uncomfortable last night. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

and the bitch is back 

you didn’t 

i’m proud of you for talking to me

even if you were a little tispy 

thank you for letting it be me

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Well, that choice was easy. 

blur cover band 

jamie lee curtis 

some unidentified young man with nice wrists may have been emotionally vulnerable with me last night and then basically called me an easy choice to make 

singing i’ll be your mirror about it 

rheumatoid arthritis

“nice wrists, wanna fuck?”

siriusly fucking stupid (BOY (?))

why are you talking about my brother's wrists?

jamie lee curtis

i /never/ said it was your brother 

BECAUSE SIRIUS 

THEYRE FUCKING GODLY ALRIGHT
HE LOOKS LIKE A FUCKING WATER COLOR

THE VEINS IN HIS WriST

THAT ONE MOLE

peter pan (hide the tights)

Go kiss his wrists, James

jamie lee curtis 

lets not be hasty 

plds i’m pretty sure he’d kick me in the bollocks if i just

kissed his wrist???

this isn’t highschool musical peter

peter pan (hide the tights)

I was trying to be supportive you lousy fuck. 

rheumatoid arthritis

i don’t remember that scene from hsm 

siriusly fucking stupid (BOY (?))

It’s a deleted scene 

dvd special only 

james is a hardcore super fan 

rheumatoid arthritis

that’s on me, how could i forget 

jamie lee curtis 

you guys ARE NOT being the supportive bffs i need you to be right now 

peter pan (hide the tights)

My support wasn’t good enough for you Jame 

jamie lee curtis 

I'M SORRY PETER 

I'M DISTRESSED 

rheumatoid arthritis changed James Potter’s name to Distressed Jeans

siriusly fucking stupid (BOY (?))

i love my boyfriend 

he’s.

I Love My Boyfriend. 

Distressed Jeans 

guys. Cmon. pull it together. 

rheumatoid arthritis

we can keep telling you to go shove him against a wall (romantically) in increasingly creative ways

or you could go shove him against a wall (romantically) and use your tongue in increasingly creative ways 

siriusly fucking stupid (BOY (?))

STOP 

THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER

STOP

REMUS 

WHAT TE FUCK

THE*

now i’m the distressed jeans. 

rheumatoid arthritis

sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities 

but i’ve made out with your brother in the throws of teenage hormones and self-loathing desperation 

siriusly fucking stupid (BOY (?))

great remus now you have to snog me so hard i forget what a brother is and who he may be

Distressed Jeans

i wish i had the sense to make out with him in the throws of teenage hormones 

i was going through my ginger phase instead 

FUCK

peter pan (hide the tights)

I’m telling Lily you called her a ‘ginger phase’. 

What would be helpful for you right now James?

Distressed Jeans 

regulus  said he didn’t deserve me 

and that i was good

And i was “bright spots”

and he was thinking of me

that

that means something right?? 

like 

i’m not dancing to the velvet underground about him over delusions? 

siriusly fucking stupid (BOY (?))

i knew he was secretly a sappy bastard 

rheumatoid arthritis

what in the merthur 

siriusly fucking stupid (BOY (?))

how many times will you be queerbaited before you quit it

rheumatoid arthritis

as many as it fucking takes sirius 

peter pan (hide the tights)

I’m not an expert. 

However, I would say it does in fact mean /something/

He called you bright spots James 

He’s a whole Death Cab for Cutie song 

siriusly fucking stupid (BOY (?))

that’s a remus-approved joke boys

he snorted 

on a more sirius note, my brother has been obsessed with you since he was 5 

so like

i think you’re good on that front

rheumatoid arthritis

also

lets just say

some of his poems aren't as “not based on anything” as they seem…

just, tuck that away.

peter pan (hide the tights)

[surprisedpikachu.jpeg]

Distressed Jeans 

we should go visit him soon…

peter pan (hide the tights)

No one is worth hours in the back of Sirius’s car

Also third-wheeling double-time sounds lame 

rheumatoid arthritis

i’ll miss you peter

who’s wendy am I meant to be? 

peter pan (hide the tights)

I’m sorry Remus 

I’ll send you memes 

rheumatoid arthritis

okay cool 

siriusly fucking stupid (BOY (?))

sounds like a headache, i’m in 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

[Cosmic Dancer, T. Rex] 

I think this song has been stuck in my head for 18 consecutive days. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

so she’s back 

you listen to it at just the right moment and it gets stuck in your head for ages

i love the power that song has over you 

[Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Beatles]

or anything by flyte

<matching wounds3

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

They’re hardly wounds, Potter.

Just catchy lift-brain music. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

song lyrics scritch scratched onto my brain 

hey, how do you feel about us coming to see you soon?

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

The whole gang?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

peter doesn’t want to sit in the car for hours :///

like i get it ‘cause you’d sit out on stuff cause of how carsick you get

but i’m going to see if he’ll reconsider anyway 

LMAO SORRY OFF TOPIC SOMEONE IN THE HALL IS TALKING SO LOUDLY ABOUT DREAMSMP “no like TUBO TUBO” LMAO WHAT NO WHErE ARE THE MATCHES

anyway just remus sirius and i

“dude people are so cringe” *starts vehemently defending dream*” THE IRONY

god also shut up it's 3 a.m. no self-respecting people are up at this hour 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

My idiot sister (who will hog the bathroom before every time we deign to step one foot out of the house), ever-hungry best friend (who will eat me out of house and home), and the unfortunate pit-stain I call an acquaintance (who /will/ break at least one of my mugs, but probably two), coming up for a weekend and sleeping in my living room like they’re 12 and it’s a slumber party? 

I’m unclaimed. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

there’s an ao3 tag for that babes

it’s called a/b/o 

go find yourself a beta xx

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Never mind, it seems I’m busy for the foreseeable future. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

that won’t stop me!!!!

i’ll crash your plans

you’d cancel for me

you know you would 

you used to all the time in secondary

your poor nerd friends wanted you to play chess with them and you pretended to be sick so we could watch movies!!!

you love me you can’t deny it

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)  

Remus always knew I was lying too. 

Not that he was much better, mind you. 

Sirius would spring some random idea on him last minute and suddenly Remus couldn’t make our plans.

To be fair he was gagging for it, but like, Sirius was constantly on the verge of jumping him. Who is that possessive over pushing someone's wheelchair for them in a straight way? I mean he nearly brained Garret that one time he leaned over to talk to him.

Remus not talking to him for a week for behaving like a, “spoiled, jealous git with selfish flights of fancy.”

Also, don’t let Euphemia find out you’re talking badly about magic hours. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

deflection 

a cowards best friend 

don’t use my mothers name to strike fear in me

she would agree that we are growing boys

who need rest

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

You want me to call you and read you something, don’t you?

crumbs in a couch cushion

of course i do regulus!! it’s magic hours!! the words have magic!!!!1!!111!1

i want an original though

that way the magic gets to be new

 ★

““It’s funny,” he said quietly, in a way that made it rather clear his next words wouldn’t be amusing in the least. (There was some wonder there too, a sort of underlying awe that even he could never shake.) “the way the dar’ness gets to ya. I thought comin’ up here might make me feel bigger than myself, more impor-tant. Space! I’m goin’ to space! Me! Me! Me! …But, really, it makes you feel more like a speck on the bottom of the universe's shoe than ever before. I’m a sprinkle of space dust, and, well, dust does tend to fall through fingers.” He offered this world-weary smile, it was a domesticated sort of melancholy, like he’d lived with it so long he’d leashed it and installed a door. An old friend, fading footsteps and cold spots. 

“It sounds foolish, to voice, but I grew up having dreams of swallowin’ fallin’ stars. Back when I’d sit on my porch and watch the heavens move fer hours. I’d wish so hard that one would decide the sky was too big, or too small for it and come sit by me, instead. I wasn’ too shabby, ya see, I could’ve offered it a coke or an ear to listen. (I’d never heard about sky problems before, what must those be like?) It was a bit cynical…bein’ nice ter a star so I could take fistfuls of it's light and guts and put them inter my belly later.” He shook his head, as if embarrassed by the cunning thoughts that used to run through him. (Why would a boy have all those tools, so young? What was he surviving?) 

“I never did get to talk to a star, or taste one for that matter. Maybe…maybe that was fer the best. See, I think it’s light would’ve eaten me right up. I was a tough youngin, sure was, but I wasn’t star-swallowin’ tough.

 I’d always go in well after bedtime, with dusty pajamas and dusty hair, and I’d look up at my glow-in-the-dark stars I had stuck up on my ceilin’, an’ I’d tell ‘em all sorts a secrets. They didn’ have ears, did they? Nah. They couldn’ listen. An’ I didn’t want ‘em to. My ritual, watch stars ‘n’ talk to’em. See, the thing was, I wasn’t all alone all the time. I knew this boy, the meanest face you’ve ever seen and a meaner attitude, but he had the gentlest hands. He’d scrub dust outta my hair and hold my face like I was precious. That was later on though, when I was hittin’ the middle of my teenage years. Before that, I was just telling my stars that I wanted to love a boy and swallow a star, and weren’t those just two impossible things?” 

(His voice caught in all those little places, like the story was taking him back with it. He was tripping into that clumsy drawl of an unpolished backyard boy. Like he’d never been anywhere else, like home was still his.) 

He looked a bit faded then, if that was possible. As if the story had taken his color with the oil spill of words. He was young, still, but he didn’t look it. His sandy hair was flecked with lighter beiges and creams, an aging rural boy. He had those kinds of just-starting-out wrinkles that told you he worried a lot. His brow was furrowed more often than not and he was probably more comfortable frowning than doing that sort-of-smile he'd been dancing with all night. His teeth were crooked, and he had freckles that spoke to summers spent more spotted than a giraffe. He was beautiful, in a strange way. He was more than a bit strange, himself. 

He sighed (again, comfortable in his worry), and took a picture out of his pocket. It was creased with age and consistent attention, sun-worn and speckled. It was of a boy, maybe a young man (but only just), he wasn’t smiling. He had this soft look on his face, an affection, but calling it a smile would be too generous. His lines were dark and sure, like he planted his feet the second he was born and hadn’t let a single thing but his own free will move him since. (And maybe whoever had taken the picture, he seemed pretty keen on them.) He traced the boys face with the pad of his middle finger, then flipped it over. Written there, in a scratchy kind of scrawl, was: My own star, August 12, 1982. He ran his fingers over that too, then tucked it right back away. 

“Thing about stars, ya don’ really get to keep ‘em.””

Regulus pauses from his reading to take a sip of tea. Well, more a gulp. He wipes his mouth and looks over at James, who’s almost asleep. Regulus allows himself a small smile, turning the page in his notebook and smoothing it all out. 

“Are you falling asleep, James?” (He is.) 

He startles a bit, “no. What? No. I’m wide awake. Keep reading me your depressing space junk.” 

Regulus rolls his eyes, albeit fondly, before clearing his throat and continuing. (Though he can’t help but wonder if it really is junk…he hasn’t had a moment to edit this yet. It’s raw and out of his comfort zone to some degree, and he isn’t even sure he knows what it's really about. Maybe one day he’ll stop wondering and put down his pen, he muses. But he knows he won’t. Because sometimes, and by that he means almost always, he worries that what he writes, what he produces, is all he has to offer the world. And really, if it proves true, he finds it a deeply empty gift he’s got tangled in his chest.) 

“His eyes, or at least his eyes currently (teary), were akin to a kaleidoscope. Or a shattered crystal. Broken mirrors? They were a sea salt pale blue, they were bottomless. (He said he didn’t swallow a star? Then what were his eyes?) Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds if she were a sad twenty-something elegant space cowboy. 

“Love doesn’t move. Love don’t go no where. Love is, and always will be. It’s between my shoulder blades and it’s gonna stay there, that’s just how it is…” 

(And Regulus reads until he gets to where he last added anything. He had gotten frustrated with his own mind, his supposed talent failing him, and slashed at the page with his pen. Ever-dramatic. He should transfer it to his computer anyway, it could do with some proper editing and possibly some sort of ending. James is snoring through his phone, curls mushed on the pillow, against his cheek, in his mouth just a bit. Regulus shuts his notebook. Regulus stares at James and misses him like the way Pluto must miss being a planet. Regulus retrieves his computer. Regulus aches when James rolls over and gives him a sleepy almost-fully-asleep smile. Regulus opens his notebook.)

 ★

crumbs in a couch cushion

all of my dreams were space themed 

we waltzed in one of them

and I saw the sad dusty boy and his star in a backyard

you’re so good

I know you probably think it was just a little something you wrote

But it was good you know?

it was a good story that you just,,,sat down and created. you made it from nothing. 

i was right

reading that dring magic hours 

that wasa good choice 

teamwork 

if you finish it you should send it to my mom 

she loves your stuff

and she loves bowie and space stuff

so right up her alley 

anyway 

i have class and you won’t be up until noon 

But 

thank you for taking the time to read to me 

it was lovely 

and 

i’m forever in awe of your talent 

i have a shift later so wake up before i have to go in!!!

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Were dust boy and his star happy?

crumbs in a couch cushion

they were dancing to t.rex and bowie 

they were barefoot and their jeans were cuffed up

fireflies were coming out

they were happy, very very happy. 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

You’re idealistic. 

So are your dreams. 

Don’t change.

Tell me about your day?

disappointing our moms every day

baz pitch is plotting 

Do you guys remember when Remus would cry to Landslide? Like, every time it came on. 

furry by chance

regulus what the fuck i thought we were friends

baz pitch is plotting

I was bored. 

gansey copy and pasted 

LMAOOO

YES
HAHAHA 

HE WOULD SOB IN BED AND BE ALL TEEN AND ANGSTY
TO FLEETWOOD MAC 

furry by choice (he/him)

y’all are making fun of my boyfriend

and didn’t invite me

actually i don’t make fun of him for this anymore

but still

It's the precedent. 

furry by chance

thank you for your unwavering show of support, sirius. 

furry by choice (he/him)

guys don’t make fun of remus for sobbing like a girl over growing up

CAN THE CHILD WITHIN MY HEART RISE ABOVE

baz pitch is plotting

Misogyny doesn’t go with your hair, Sirius. 

Take the sexist jokes out the door. 

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?

gansey copy and pasted 

hot. 

when he defends women's rights. 

not that they need him to.

but #solidarity

CAN I HAAAAAANDLE THE SEAAAAAASONNNNSSSS OF MY LIFEEEEEEEEE??

baz pitch is plotting

Good lord. 

Can I change my name? 

(Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’.)

gansey copy and pasted 

NO

my love for basilton pitch is deep and unyielding 

it’s staying

(‘cause i’ve built my life around you) 

furry by choice (he/him)

(but time makes you bolder)

baz pitch is plotting

It’s creepy, is what it is.

I’ve had the same username since the beginning of time. 

You can’t keep me in this prison forever. 

I will break free.

By Freddy Mercury, I will break free. 

(Even children get older.)

furry by chance

the black brothers in the same groupchat: a guide

1. Don’t! 

(And I’m. I’m getting older too.)

crumbs in a couch cushion 

confession time: 

i know we made fun of remus for crying to landslide

but i to this day regularly cry to fourth of july by sufjan stevens 

[Fourth of July - Sufjan Stevens]

there’s this merlin edit to that song…

holy christ 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

[Epilogue - The Antlers] 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

YOU COULDN’T HAVE WARNED ME BEFORE I LISTENED TO IT

WHAT THE FUCK 

AND I DONT WORK THERE AT THE HOSPITAL THEY HAD T LET ME GO??????

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I was writing one night and it came on shuffle without me realizing and I just sat there stunned when I finally tuned back in. Baseball bat to stomach. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

 F U C K I N G  CHRIST

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REGULUS

YOU 

HAVE A HEART

YOU SENT ME SOMETHING

A BOX

A DECORATED BOX

WAIT WAIT I’M OPENING IT 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Do hurry, I’m simply on the edge of my seat. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

SHUT UP I’M EXCITED

IT’S NOT EVERY DAY PRETTY HERMIT BOYS SEND YOU STUFF

REGULUS

REGULUS

IT’S A POEM AND A PAINTING MUAHAHAHA 

I’M A RICH MAN 

AND SWEETS 

THANK YOU

I’M PUTTING THEM BOTH ON MY WALL

[Image: a handwritten poem on heavyweight paper thumbtacked above a desk, amongst a sea of dried flowers, post-it notes, drawings, other poems, receipts, and a few printed-out memes] I HAVE TO GET A FRAME FOR THE PAINTING 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

You don’t have to frame it, James.

It’s hardly a piece from The Louvre. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

regulus. 

you painted me flowers.

it’s better than the louvre 

it’s got your little signature at the bottom

that makes it better

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

James, they’re just some flowers. They’re not special. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

shut up 

i love them

you made them for me and i love them 

thats what matters 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

I suppose it does. 

Don’t get an ugly frame. 

In fact, get Sirius’s help. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

i hate you

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Of course you do. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

hey regulus 

are you busy

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Always. 

What do you want?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

come to my concert 

i’m going to play guitar 

landslide has been stuck in my head since the gc conversation 

oOOOOoooOoOoOO

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Are you going to sing?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

if you’re lucky

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

That ego of yours. 

Yeah, alright.

I’ll phone you in a minute. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

!!!!!

disappointing our moms everyday

furry by chance

hey guys welcome to my youtube channel 

remember when regulus decided he was going to be rebellious 

(you know more rebellious than being trans and gay)

baz pitch is plotting

Choose your next words very carefully Remus John Lupin. 

furry by chance 

and he started dressing like a little punk LOL 

baz pitch is plotting

Oh.

That is not what I thought you were going to say. 

I stand by those actions. 

Obviously. 

I still dress like that, sometimes. 

furry by chance

oh you thought i was talking about the weed???

baz pitch is plotting

Fucking bitch. 

gansey copy and pasted 

oh! oh! i remember!1!1! 

you’re forgetting the best part!1!

HE DYED HALF HIS HAIR GREEN AND SPIKED IT

CMON 

furry by choice (he/him)

i have honestly never been more proud 

gansey copy and pasted 

#rebellion 

#punkrockregulus 

#emoboy

baz pitch is plotting

I’ll fucking kill you.

gansey copy and pasted 

no don’t get me wrong it was very cool

like the way you mixed academia and punk stuff

together

very very cool

furry by chance

two verys 

furry by choice (he/him)

two verys??

furry by chance

Virtual high five 

furry by choice (he/him)

just high five me when you get home???

furry by chance

if i have to

furry by choice (he/him)

nevermind i don’t want to be near you 

baz pitch is plotting

Good fucking god. 

furry by choice (he/him)

LOL anyway yeah james walked into a bike rack when he saw you dressed like that the first time

furry by chance

“HE’S WEARING EYELINER WHAT”

baz pitch is plotting

Is that so? 

gansey copy and pasted 

yeah i’m defo not having any biological kids after that LMAO

i cried a little 

lily watched me do it it was so embarrassing 

i was still In Love at the time

honestly almost jumped off the nearest cliff

she laughed at me

but also helped me up and whispered “regulus? I know.” all slyly 

i didn’t realize she was calling him hot 😭 😭

But she was boys. She was. 

baz pitch is plotting

Suddenly certain things make so much sense…

gansey copy and pasted 

WHAT THINGS????

baz pitch is plotting

She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Potter.

Don’t worry about it.

furry by chance

plot twist regulus is actually bi and marries lily (and mary i suppose ‘cause they’re dating now) and james dies alone with his hand

gansey copy and pasted 

oh baby no i’m joining you and sirius xx

come here lets rekindle our love

i’ve made out with you both i know how you like it

baz pitch is plotting

Am I the only one you /haven’t/ made out with?

gansey copy and pasted 

we can change that 😏 😼 😎 👄

baz pitch is plotting

I’d rather shove my hand through a meat grinder, like the guy in that one TMA episode. 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

[Image: Regulus stands in front of a full-length mirror, hair looking just slightly like maybe he’d lost a fight with an outlet. He’s wearing a white button down and a loose black tie. His shirt has pins on it, and a band around his arm that says ‘toothless transphobes’. His shirt is tucked into green plaid trousers, with two belts around his waist. He’s wearing lowtop platform oxfords, and mismatched chunky rings.]

[Bizzare Love Triangle - New Order]

crumbs in a couch cushion 

$&$&((*=5&

sorry i’m fine now

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I didn’t know you spoke robot. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i forgot to tell you i’m bilingual 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

That might be one of your funnier jokes. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

THAT!?

THAT IS ONE OF MY FUNNIER ONES1!?!?!

god regulus your taste is so weird

and also in a roundabout way you just called me funny and you can never take that back 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I didn’t say you were funny.

I said you made a mildly funny joke.

An isolated occurrence does not make a whole. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

aha! but you said one of my ‘funnier jokes’

which directly implies that i’ve made funny jokes before

otherwise, you would’ve just said “wow james you finally learned how to make a funny joke”

fucking lawyered bro

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You aren’t a lawyer. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

doesn’t mean i can’t rest a case like a motherfucker

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

That was really bad.

I’m deeply traumatized.

I’m going to go complain about you to my friends over coffee.

Bye. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

all press is good press, baby!

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I’M SO HIGHHHHHH!!!!

okay obnoxious i know but i'm excited 

i cannot feel my bones

My pain? None

I'm a floating pair of eyes 

ugh 

literally \

\

i have clouds in my brain

i love that feeling

i can see it so well

Like my braino n it's little stem

and clouds (fluffy) floating around it

and there’s such little pain

it’s heaven regulus

pure fucking bliss

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

That sounds lovely, James. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

I’m going to put danny g on

you know how much i like him

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Oh trust me, I do. 

I can call you, if you’d like?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

YES please 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Alright. 

Danny, here we come. 

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy) 

I hate nouns.

Especially new nouns.

But nouns in general, really. 

See, I am not a fan of people, places, or things.

I HATE them in fact.

And if they’re new, I don’t even want to know they exist.

Some things are okay. Some.

Almost no places, though. 

And like one to two people are okay.

But generally, I hate everyone and everything and think they should all go away so I can read in peace.

crumbs in a couch cushion

overstimulated then?

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Unbearably so.

What’s your current stance on murder?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

still against, unfortunately.

sorry! 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

[Across The Universe - The Beatles]

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

[Across The Universe - Fiona Apple] 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i want to watch a movie but i don’t know what to watch

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

I’ve been meaning to rewatch Benjamin recently.

You haven’t seen it yet.

We could do that? 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i’ll get the snacks! 

 ★

“I’m excited.”

“You might not like it.”

“ You love it.”

“Still.”

“Shut up.

“Rude.”

 ★

“Is that Hozier?”

“Oh my god.” 

“My name is James.”

“I hate you.”

 ★

“Oh! Not a good start! “Do you love me?” / “Oh my god..yeah.” Yikes! 

 ★

“That escalated so quickly.” 

“Hush.”

 ★

“Oh! Meta!”

“No…Ben. Take. Out. The Monk.”

“Double Yikes.”

“...”

“I’m starting to see why you like this movie.”

“The bit about wanting to rest?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

 ★

“Cheery!”

 ★

“He’s kind of cute, isn’t he? His little Converse and hoodie.”

“Colin Morgan? Yes, James, he’s attractive.”

 ★

“Gross!”

 ★

“The dogs..for free!?”

 ★

“I’m not sure I like her, Reg.”

“Yeah…this movie isn’t really full of likable people.”

“Oh.” 

 ★

“Ideally he would just make the film and die? Wait. I’m kind of in love with him.”

“He reminds me a bit of Remus.”

“I see that. Kind of you too, though. You’re good at the deadpan morbid no fucks to give thing.”

“Ben has a lot of fucks to give.”

“Yeah, but he’s still himself, isn’t he?”

“I suppose.”

“...”

“OH MY GOD HE IS LIKE REMUS, THAT WAS SO FUNNY, ‘do you want cocaine? That sucks, I don’t have any.’” 

 ★

“Hmm, not sure I like him either.”

“Yeah…no. Harry…well. Basic douchebag.”

 ★

“Oh! Love is happening!”

“Mhm.”

“This dude is great, I love him.”

“Small warning, there’s a bit of an age gap.”

“Ah, I see.” 

-

“Oh, he’s pretty.”

“He’s French.” 

“His voice is raspy…”

“Good lord.”

 ★

“...The lyrics of the second song…”

“Best to just move on.” 

 ★

“‘...my inability to love, but I’m fine now.’ Top ten line.”

“You.”

“Right for the jugular.”

-

“Married!”

“You.”

“Damn.”

“They’re on opposite ends of the table!”

“Just, wait.”

“But-”

“I said wait.”

-

“Oh.”

“See?”

“Yeah, okay. Noah’s looking after him! No need to worry!”

“His nervous giggle…”

“You into that, Regulus?”

“I think it’s funny. And sweet..I guess.”

 ★

“They should kiss.”

“He’s too awkward for that.”

“Me. I’d hug him too.”

“You’d get shanked.”

“Hey!”

“You’re too trusting.”

“I’d let you shank me.”

“...”

 ★

“Oh, gay! Are they gonna…?”

“James.”

“...He’s kind of you. This hot french man is so obviously trying to fuck him and he’s like ‘hi can I hydrate you and show you my work?’”

“I don’t actually have a habit of hydrating handsome men and then whoring out my work.”

“Just me then?”

“Sure, I’d love to drown you.” 

 ★

“Oh my god…just kiss him!... Oh, thank fuck.”

“The cinematography is so lovely. Also, backs.” 

“Backs!”

 ★

“That was so painful.”

“Stephen and Billie scenes need their own warning.”

 ★

“His bedding is adorable.”

“It’s so ugly.”

 ★

“Porridge and psychedelic drugs.”

“You should name midwest emo bands.”

 ★

“I love these scenes of them in the forest. They’re fucking gorgeous. And, fucking hilarious.”

“Oh, oh he’s dancing. He’s stunning.”

“He’s pretty lovely. I’m biased because Remus and I had an unhealthy Merlin obsession as teenagers, but still.”

“Said as if I didn’t get into it because of you?” 

 ★

“Regulus, I do not like her.”

“I understand.” 

 ★

“Hashtag mental breakdown in front of the mirror in the public toilets.”

 ★

“Woah he is very close to his face. Are they gonna fuck?”

“Is that a genuine question?”

“It is now…”

 ★

“Oh. My. God.”

“Yeah.”

“This is a trainwreck. I can’t look away, yet I’m being traumatized?”

“Yeah.”

“Billie and Stephen need therapy.”

“Truly.”

 ★

“Oh. Oh, Noah, no.”

“Double kill. Bad film, no boyfriend.”

 ★

“‘Is he really in pain?!?”

“...”

 ★

“Harry is so backhanded.”

“He sucks ass.”

 ★

“I feel bad for him…but worse for me. That French twink’s song is stuck in my head.”

“It’s on Spotify…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And the last song, which I prefer.” 

 ★

“Has anyone said so many words while somehow saying nothing?”

“A true talent.”

“This film has so many feet, Regulus.”

“I know James, I know.”

“Paint him like one of your French girls!”

“Shush.”

“Hey, Reg, how are my nipples?”

“Dear God.”

“That’s an ass! Oh my!”

“Yeah…”

“Why…why is he eating his face?”

“His unstaggering confidence is the antithesis of Ben’s chronic awkwardness. His overwhelming uncertainty.” 

“Geek.”

 ★

“That’s a nice shot.”

“I like it a lot as well. I might draw it someday.”

“You should – no! Not the experiment line! Poor fucking Ben.”

“He slept with a man who he knew would never give him what he needed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean self-sabotage and getting involved with people he can’t really get involved with, you know?”

 ★

“Is…he…waiting…at…his…school…?”

“Yes. Which is admittedly a bit creepy, considering he had his number.”

“He is charming though.”

“So are most serial killers.”

“I…don’t think that applies here.”

“No, It doesn’t. Ben could never murder.”

“‘We should just be people’ I like it.”

“They’re kind of adorable, It’s a bit disgusting.”

 ★

“Regulus? They’re so sweet? What the fuck? I’m too attached already. They’re washing each other’s hair, Regulus.”

“I know.”

“Was that…a wistful sigh?”

“No.”

“Defensive.”

“...Jumpscare! The horrifying terrifying book-shaking curl into a ball mortifying ordeal of being known! (Naked in the bath edition.)”

“Boyfriends!”

 ★

“Regulus. Regulus I’m scared. I don’t like this.”

“It gets worse.”

“How? …It got worse. Oh my god.”

“Yeah… It gets worse.” 

“Noah is rather sweet…oh! And what a thing to say, Stephen!”

 ★

“They’re good.”

“BFFs!”

 ★

“He makes him feel things with his music!”

“Yes. Yes, he does.”

 ★

“Prepare yourself.”

“No.”

“Good luck.”

 ★

“D.A.M.N. Triple yikes!”

“Oh no. Ben. No. ben. Ben don’t shut him out.’

“Too late. Paul just undid all his progress by cutting him down to his worse qualities.”

“He wasn’t exactly wrong, though.”

“I mean, it’s not as if he isn’t self-aware. He sees that he has intimacy and vulnerability issues. He’s been trying, maybe not with Paul, but with Noah.”

“So what’s happening now?”

“A mistake. A bad night. A relapse. A coward’s move.”

 ★

“What did we just watch?”

“A birth.”

“Billie needs to seek professional help.”

 ★

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I can’t stop laughing  – oh my god he talked  – I’m in tears. What?”

“Wait till he gets to the mirror.”

“ What are they going to think?”

“Honestly.”

 ★

“Oh no. Oh my god. Is he dead?”

“No.”

“Thank fuck.”

 ★

“Oh! Full circle!”

“The music fading out and the close camera angle.”

“Benny boy…”

“ ‘I was scared I wasn’t capable of love. Which, I think, was just covering the really scary thing, which is that I love you.’ I hate this movie.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.”

-

“He’s going to Paris! Happy boyfriends!”

 ★

crumbs in a couch cushion 

can we come see you next weekend?

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

If you must. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

hey bae wyd 

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy)

Your talent of making me feel so much hate, in almost no time at all, is truly unmatched. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

WTF 

i said like two and a half words 

bitch

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy)

Yet, here I type, bubbling to the brim with rage.

What do you want, you 2016 American frat bro? 

crumbs in a couch cushion

your mom 

no 

actually 

i’m knee deep in uquizzes 

and i would like to

corsinally 

cordinally 

carnation 

CORDIALLY 

I WOULD LIKE TO CORDIALLY INVITE YOU

to take them with me 

:))))))))))))

please 

i’m lonely 

on a for serious note i actually am 

but also dj jp is spinning these uquizzes like you woudlnf believe 

wouldn’t*

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy)

Who is teaching you words?

Because, I don’t just want to talk, I want to commit vehicular manslaughter. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

i’ll link you up baby 

i knew you’d fall for my charms eventually 

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy) 

Yes, such a talent you have, charming me into lighting my eyeballs on fire. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

https://uquiz.com/quiz/d3iPma/tell-me-if-youd-smash-or-pass-these-dilfs-and-ill-tell-u-what-people-think-of-you

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy) 

I wish I was dead. 

[image transcript: ugh i love u so does everyone else u is SEXYYYYYYY

literally everyone loves u ur so cool with amazing taste i woulf smash you and so would every other human being”] 

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😭😭

that’s what i got too

cause i’m hot as duck

fuck 

everyone’s in lvoe w me

anyway 

https://uquiz.com/quiz/hTDHSm/pick-some-art-off-pinterest-and-ill-assign-you-a-celestial-entity

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy) 

[image: black hole. you are powerful. black holes have a gravitational pull so strong that nothing can escape from it. not even light. you are set in your convictions and once you put your mind to something it’s already accomplished. people are drawn to you because of your intriguing depth, self-assurance, and commanding aura. people mistakenly think that a black hole is nothing but empty space when, in reality, it's the complete opposite: a lot of dense matter all packed into a very condensed space. you have so many thoughts, ideas, and feelings buzzing around, it's a wonder your body can contain it all. it must get tiring. don’t be afraid to unburden yourself. you deserve to experience lightness and peace just as much as the rest of us. you are strong and determined. you don’t mind waiting for the right opportunity to come along and when it does, you pounce. you take comfort in inevitability. you’re devoted to the things you care about and have a tendency to be opinionated and selective. you sometimes secretly worry you come off too strong and wish you were more approachable. you may feel as if you don’t have many people you feel especially close or connected with but still hold tight to those precious few. you also have a sense of something missing—a void you keep trying to fill that no matter how much you consume never feels enough. you have desires still longing to be fulfilled. you want to feel whole. full. dont give up and don’t stop searching. what you need is out there waiting for you to find it. ultimately, you are like a dark room, filled with endless and infinite possibilities. you are an immovable object. the last one standing. you are what is left even after everything else has disappeared. you are primordial and powerful and, most importantly, never alone]

Good god. 

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[image: star

like stars, you are effervescent and indefinable. stars somehow feel simultaneously within your grasp but infinitely far. people devotedly pour all their hopes and dreams out to you, spill their secrets, and bare their souls for the unique, special joy of gaining your favor. you are a special person to be around. being with you is like flying—weightless and exciting. you are sympathetic and can’t help trying to help everyone even when you’ve already got enough on your plate. you try to make everyone else’s dreams come true at the same time as yours. you are warm—not in an outwardly radiating way but at your very core. in your thoughts, and intentions, and desires. like stars, you can be fickle, shifting according to the season and twinkling like you might wink out of existence at any moment. however, you make up for it in your extraordinary qualities—stars guide sailors to new lands, remind us to keep dreaming, and give us a reason to keep looking up. you are a beautiful and extraordinary person. even if people don't quite understand you, they admire and appreciate you. you inspire them to keep dreaming. you sometimes miss what once was and have a hard time letting go. you find nostalgia simultaneously comforting and heartbreaking. yet you still manage to move forward. you also have a hard time seeing the value of your own innate brightness, yet still, think highly of yourself and what you have to offer the world. you somehow never manage to lose your spirit. you are the light that never goes out, against all the odds. you are the essence of art, creation, and beauty. the lightness of laughter. the shaky peace following a good cry. you are simultaneously cold-tempered with a warm core. you are beautiful and beloved and faithfully enduring. remember to take care of yourself the same way you do others. don’t burn out on us, we need you around <3] 

REGULUS HOW DID I GET A STAR AND YOU GOT A BLACK HOLE 

I MEAN YOURS IS KIND OF ACCURATE 

BUT YOURE LITERALLG A STARFJJSDN

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy) 

You know that Maya Hawke song? 

“an outlet shock, a hole, a need”

At least I'm consistent. 

Yours isn’t too far off. 

There’s a light that never goes out, and 

Morrissey was singing about James Potter. 

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you are an absolutely terrifying specimen. 

https://uquiz.com/quiz/tKVMxK/which-of-my-oddly-specific-fave-character-archetypes-are-you

yours is taking forever 

did it get Real 

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy)

No. 

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LMAO IT DID 

[image: "the normal one" (insane)

you either think you're normal and everyone knows you're not or everyone thinks you're normal and only YOU know you're not. in some situations you seem average and rational and then you state an opinion or tell a story that makes everyone feel like they've just been brought into an alternate reality. you probably have the energy of a 40yo mom who drives a minivan with beige upholstery but would commit arson if asked.]

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy) 

Correct. 

…

[image: you are so smart that it's a problem. definitely ego issues because you can't help but know how overqualified you are in most situations that require your talents, but also the thing you're incredibly good at seems to be the ONLY thing you're good at. secretly you're terrified of being an unlikeable jerk and/or replaced, but for now you'll just keep correcting people's grammar and figuring out logical solutions at frightening speeds.]

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DAMN 

SNIPED 

HAHA

https://uquiz.com/quiz/pPwi1g/answer-some-questions-and-ill-tell-you-what-your-job-is-in-my-space-crew

Sunshine’s Antithesis (emo boy)

[Image: the rogue cop

oh so you quit your job at the police and now you want to travel the galaxy shooting people without all that red tape? aw that's sweet. still no shooting though, sorry. in between your bouts of murderous intent you're probably the most organised of the crew though. honestly. everything will likely fall apart as soon as you're out of the picture. so you REALLY need to sort out your personal mess]

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u r bloodthirsty 

srry my fingers r freaky 

CREAKY****

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

[brown

chocolate, monkeys, mushrooms, hedgehogs. passionnate, fun, eerily calm in the face of danger, friendly, caring. cartwheeling, picnics, birdwatching, going to animal shelters, crazy pet parent, treating stuffies like children. best friends brother vibes, either very tal or very short, the worst sense of humor ever heard.]

crumbs in a couch cushion 

almost none of that is accurate

but the stars aligned 

To bring that result 

to us

[Best Friend’s Brother - Victoria Justice]

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Oh really?

Am I the one for you?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

you know it babyyyy

blur cover band

Distressed Jeans

OH MY FUCKING FUCKING FUCKING FUCK

HE’S FLIRTING WOIEBYJGSKFC S WITH ME 

HE IS FLIRTING WITH ME

I CAN SEE HIS FUCKING SMIRK 

Sfnsdhuwdhmbfdijojfjickhjdwhk

YOU GUYS 

rheumatoid arthritis 

three deep breaths, jimothy 

Distressed Jeans

i’m cool i’m cool i’m cool i'm cool 

cool cool  cool cool cool cool cool cool

crumbs in a couch cushion 

[Image: yellow

the sun, bananas, bees, ducks. relaxing, that's how people feel around you. sappy, bright, excitable, golden retriever energy. watching the sky change, starting bonfires, barbeque, outdoor theater, disney movies, musicals, gymnastics. very good at putting up fronts, youngest child energy.]

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Oh.

Well.

At least yours is accurate. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

okay okay

last one for now

https://uquiz.com/quiz/sP4yuD/tell-be-about-your-issues-and-ill-guess-your-favorite-trope

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

[Image: enemies to lovers

so you want to feel like you are more than your flaws, huh?]

…I’m not sure I like this game anymore.

crumbs in a couch cushion 

[Image: forbidden romance

i see you you romantic rebel]

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Do you think that’s about Lily?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

…why would it be about lily??

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

She’s a ginger…?

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regulus. 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

She gave me ginger joke privileges. 

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SHOCK

WHAT

WHY
WHY YOU

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

She thinks I’m hot.

Plus she knew it would get you riled up. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

the fucking betrayal. 

disappointing our moms everyday 

furry by choice (he/she)

hello canker whores

baz pitch is plotting

Canker whores?

furry by choice (he/she)

yeah like

canker sores

but 

whores. 

even though two of you are virgins LMAO

baz pitch is plotting

Classy. 

gansey copied and pasted

i’m a proud virgin

i’m going to heaven baby

the lord has seen my pureness and deemed me worthy

#savingmyselfforgod

furry by chance

as in, god himself is going to take your virginity?

you’re waiting to get fucked until god himself can do it?

gansey copied and pasted

maybe i’ll fuck god.

baz pitch is plotting

Why not both?

furry by choice (he/she)

GUYS

youre getting off topic

this isnt about james and regulus being desperately virginal and pure

(wow final girls!)

this is about us seeing regulus in a couple days

and how

we should watch rocky horror

and pack accordingly

furry by chance

he will not be letting this go, by the by. 

gansey copy and pasted

i do not have to gold shorts needed

WAIT ACTUALLY I HAVE A SUBSTITUTE 

baz pitch is plotting  

That, is worrisome. 

We can, I suppose.

Chapter Text

“James, I love you more than I could ever express in any understandable way, but if you keep hitting my seat with your knee, I’m going to fucking gut you.” Sirius offers this in a very serene, and rather inappropriately cheerful, voice. Like maybe, gutting James –his best friend –violently, wouldn’t be all that bad really. 

“I have to pee,” James explains simply, bouncing his leg, even more, causing Remus to chuckle lightly from the front. James is in the back, but with the force he’s shoving himself between their seats, he might be about to make it a tri-front seat. (He’s also excited. And nervous…jittery? Okay not also. He has to pee because of this. He gets nervous pees. He can’t do anything about it.)

“Christ alive James, I stopped twenty minutes ago. Why didn’t you go then?”

“...I didn’t have to go.” However, James says this in such a way that makes it rather obvious he did have to go. 

“Okay, try again, and either make me believe you or tell me the truth,” Sirius instructs, amused and happy to be driving. He loves driving, and the only times cars don’t make him grouchy are when he’s behind the wheel, so. 

“IwastextingRegulus,” one big rush of air, words swept under it and swishy with it. 

“You know you’re in love and deeply, incurably obsessed with him, right?” Remus asks rhetorically. James decides to answer anyway.

“I try not to think about it!” Though, the truth is, he thinks about it more than anything else. He worries, sure, but he can compartmentalize if need be. He can put things in boxes and deal with them later, by himself, when he doesn’t have to be anybody for anyone. Regulus is the exception, which he proves to be rather often. James saw a flower yesterday, he wanted to pick it and give it to Regulus. It’s sitting between book pages on his desk. 

“Does that really work?” Sirius seems genuinely curious, even though he knows damn well the answer is a hard, resounding: 

“No. I reread things he's written while eating pot noodles, in the middle of the night, in my pants.” James responds miserably, though not that miserably because he’s seeing Regulus very soon. And isn’t he always the light at the end of the tunnel? Isn’t it always well, I get to tell Regulus, I get to text Regulus, I get to call Regulus, I get to see Regulus. Regulus Regulus Regulus. So, really, even when he is miserable, if Regulus is on the other side of that…it seems a bit less achy. 

“That is simply too much information.” Sirius shudders and tightens his hands on the wheel. Remus pats him sarcastically on the arm without looking up from his book.

“God, Sirius, not like that . Don’t defile his work like that.”

“‘His work’, he’s a struggling uni student who vents through flimsy characters and bad metaphors.” Sirius scoffs, not at all genuine. 

“The last story he sent you made you cry,” James reminds him, smiling at the rearview mirror with all his worth. 

“Shut the fuck up, at least I don’t read his stuff at three in the morning in my undergarments like a fucking creep,” Sirius snaps. 

“But I’m a creep…I’m a weirdo,” Remus sings softly, seemingly absentmindedly, while he flips the page in his book. Sirius and James both turn to look at him at the same time, holding in their laughter to the best of their abilities. Which is, admittedly, not very well.

“Remus, baby, you are so fucking weird.” Sirius delivers this news swiftly, looking every bit as lovesick and fond as he’s been for years.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I'm weird. I’m a weirdo. I don't fit in. And I don't want to fit in. Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on? That's weird.” Remus says earnestly, looking up from his book with huge, sincere eyes. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Sirius mutters, shaking his head. James tries not to laugh, because he knows it’ll be this terribly obnoxious thing that’s too loud and too much, but he fails miserably. He cringes internally, the car’s too small and he’s always too big. Remus meets his eyes, with a sparkle and a wink, in his little mirror and James feels a bit better. 

“Guys… Regulus.” And he must push more than he means to into the name because Sirius and Remus have an entire conversation without saying a word. Rude. He’s right here . Remus nods, looking resigned but determined, and goes back to his goddamn book. 

“Yes, the pest,” Sirius finally responds. “If we see his friend Evan, you’ll have to hold me back. I still haven’t forgiven him for puking on my boots.”

“He had food poisoning…?” 

“He should get a stronger stomach, I don’t see how it's my issue.”

Remus snorts. Sirius raises an eyebrow. Remus smirks. Sirius rolls his eyes. 

 ★

Considering the way James almost lost a leg in his haste to exit the car and get into Regulus’s orbit, he’s really feeling quite betrayed at the turn of events. See, when the three of them knocked on his door, one bouncing on the balls of his feet (James Potter), one pretending to act uninterested, badly suppressing a grin (Sirius Black), and one mildly amused at them both, and quietly excited himself (Remus Lupin) it went a bit like this. Regulus took his time to answer the damn door, and when he finally – finally did he immediately, and dramatically threw himself into Remus’s arms. (It’s this thing they’ve done for ages, where sometimes they act so disinterested in each other and other times act like they’re getting married. They make no sense.) He held him for dear life, and when he finally let go Remus smacked a kiss onto his temple and shoved him away. Upon seeing James and Sirius? He – he shook their hands . With the air of an unsatisfied businessman. And out of either bafflement, or the urge to fall to his knees and give Regulus anything he damn well pleased, he might have…shook it back? Sirius, for one, being a person of many balls, slapped the man's hand away and scowled. Regulus shrugged and walked into his home, leaving the door ajar and two men and a Sirius on the doorstep. 

When James gathered his wits about him, which really he isn't usually this slow on the uptake it’s just… Regulus , he charged inside like a possessed man. Regulus was making his way to the kitchen, but James did not give a flying fuck where he was going, only that it was away from him. So, James being a man of reason and patience, tackles him with his full body weight. He almost sends them flying, but Regulus must have been anticipating this to some degree because his feet are planted and he throws his arms out to balance them. James holds him as tight as he can without it being uncomfortable and rests his forehead against the back of Regulus’s. He smells like…peaches? Why the fuck does he smell like peaches? He should smell like peppermint and rain. Not… peaches. (Is he…seeing someone? Using their shampoo? Smelling like them ?)

“Bloody christ James, are you trying to murder me?” Regulus really undermines his point, and all the effort he’s put into infusing his words with distaste, by clutching at James’s arms like they’ll disappear at any moment. 

“I’m going to let go, you are going to turn around so I can hug you properly and it’s going to last minutes to make up for the little stunt you just pulled,” James informs him gravely, letting him go but keeping his arms loosely encircling him. (He doesn’t fully trust him not to try to Indifference and Deflect his way out of this.) But, looking like a slightly disgruntled cat, he does turn around. James shoves him into his chest with all he’s worth and kisses the crown of his head a million times. This boy! His boy! In his arms, fitting just as perfectly as always, because that’s something James can always rely on. Regulus and him? They will always, always fit. “Hug me back Black before I strangle you with that fucking cross.”

“Oh – right,” Regulus mutters, as if possibly he had forgotten what he was meant to do, before hugging James back just as fiercely. (Well, he tries, but really no one can rival James Potter when it comes to hugs.) And James, much the determined man that he is, really does keep Regulus in his arms for minutes. Regulus keeps trying to break it everytime Sirius whispers something to Remus from where they’re standing somewhere. Honestly, James doesn’t care, he has Regulus Black in his arms and he can’t see past it. That’s all that matters, except he smells like peaches and really he can’t get over that. But then Regulus, and really James isn’t sure if he even realizes he’s doing this, is rubbing circles into his back. And isn’t that something? So really, can you blame him for dropping the peaches thing for now? Because if Regulus held onto Remus for dear life then he was holding onto James like he was hoping to make a home and a grave in his arms. 

They break up when Remus wolf whistles, because he’s demented and James hates him.

(He doesn’t mean that.)

Regulus clears his throat and shakes his head, looking a bit dazed. Which is a little sweet really, but James’s brain is working overtime on   don’t kiss him and he’s blushing and he’s wearing a green velvet shirt and a vest and peaches . “So Regulus, know anyone who smells like peaches?” (shit shit shit)

He startles just a bit, then schools everything he is into everything he isn’t, and looks at James like he’s the biggest moron who has ever walked the Earth. “No.” Then he turns on his heel and goes to make tea. 

When James turns, he’s met with matching ‘ oh my god you are the biggest moron to ever walk the Earth’ looks from the creepy twins from The Shining. Light and dark against the fading afternoon sun, really beautiful, and god awful creepy. He doesn’t even want to know why everyone is looking at him like they did when he accidentally locked them in the costume closet in secondary. Except really he is curious and wants to know so bad, but all he can think about are stupid pink-orange fuzzy little homewrecking fruits. 

(And, well, his knees hurt like a bitch from the car. And his hip. And his back. And his knuckles. But he can’t blame those on the car, only himself.)

James isn’t sure what he fills his time with when he’s at home, what he does when he’s not staring at Regulus, watching every tiny little thing he does. (What is his life if not filled with the way he balances dishes expertly–from his time as a waiter before charming his way to the bloody in-house pianist –and the way he rubs his index finger along the rough skin of his cuticles. The way his shirt sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, the delicate lines of his wrist that give James the urge to bite . The way he flicks a lock of hair out of his face, irritated, with a little scowl.) James wants so badly to be able to have this. He wants to be able to walk behind Regulus and crowd him in, make him nervous enough to drop the honey, kiss his temple, without having to play it off as a joke, as platonic, as James Potter Being Affectionate, Because It Really Can’t Be Helped. (He was raised in a happy household where he was loved and spoiled, sue him.) 

But he can’t, even if he thinks maybe Regulus might let him. Because it’s a conversation, something that has to happen slowly and carefully, if at all. He can’t just shove him against a counter and snog him within an inch of his life, beyond Regulus only being fond of kissing sometimes, they’ve been friends since James still had light-up sneakers. This is a fucking conversation, even if it feels like maybe they’ve been having it for a while now, without really acknowledging it. 

“James, has anyone told you that you have rather creepy tendencies?” Regulus asks, his back turned and voice sarcastically sweet. Sirius bursts out laughing from the kitchen table and Remus shakes his head a bit, pointing right at him. “I’ll take that annoying barking as a yes. Interesting, how were you creeping on them? Or do you just hover and stare at all your friends like you’re searching for inconsistencies?”

“I – god, already? You haven’t seen me in months! You’re so mean, honestly. I’m not creepy, I’m interested, ” James insists through a huffy laugh, because really Regulus is spikey as all hell, and James loves him all the more for it. 

“Interested, are we, Potter?” Regulus is so quick, James wouldn’t be able to keep up with the boy if his mind wasn’t a dragonfly he was always chasing to catch. When he turns, it's with a smirk and four mugs in his hands. (He’s terrifying, they're steaming.) He doesn’t wait for James to shoot something back, just walks calmly to the table. Remus gets his first (a simple thing with moons and stars on it, and James is pretty sure it’s one of those peek-a-boo mugs with a black cat in the middle. He takes his tea with honey, sometimes cinnamon because he’s deeply odd, but right now it’s just honey). Sirius snatches his, with all the entitlement he’s always had (it's got this messy abstract painting design on it. He takes his tea with too much milk, too much sugar). Regulus has his and James’s in his hands, and holds the pink flowered one out to James (a dash of milk, a spoonful of sugar). (Regulus’s own mug is this wobbly thing that tips sideways a bit if you set it down, it has wonky stars and random peace signs throughout it – James made it in art class when he was 15, and it lights him on fire to know that Regulus kept it and uses it .) (He takes his tea with nothing. He’s demonic.)

“Thank you,” Remus sighs out, like the tea has given him a relief little else could. James supposes that's true.

“Where’s Peter? He’s the only one of you I can stand.”

“I got him to agree but then he remembered he had an essay due on Monday and I suppose he’s actually responsible or something like that? He said next time he’d make it for sure, or he said we could just smuggle you back with us.” 

“Shame, I actually like him. Remember that time he almost blinded Avery with a paintbrush? No one does it like Pettigrew.” 

“Here, here!” Sirius calls, slamming his mug down and chugging it like a pint. Regulus grimaces and moves to get a rag to mop up his brother’s mess. James resists the urge to follow him and get a moment alone with him, but he knows Regulus won’t be able to focus on any kind of conversation. He’ll spend the whole time thinking about the tea seeping into his table. 

“I hate you,” Regulus says simply, before evicting Sirius to drink and stand since he clearly cannot be trusted near the furniture . James moves to Sirus’s seat, so Regulus is right in front of him. Regulus sighs, but James can see the fondness at the corners of his eyes. 

“Hi.”

“Hello? You’ve been in my home for a bit now James, and I think your rugby tackle was greeting enough.” Regulus folds his rag, soppy with tea, and looks at James very clearly for a moment. His eyes are the color of the sky before it unleashes hell. James doesn’t know how to breathe under the gaze, after all these years, he hasn’t learned. “I’ve been meaning to ask, actually, how’s your pain? I can’t imagine hours in the car did your knees any good.” And he says it all in a whisper, Remus and Sirius are still right there, they can hear, probably, but James appreciates the attempt to keep it between them. Or at least making it clear that the others are not invited.

“I’m fine.” James grins, because – yes he’s in pain, but he always is. And Regulus is looking at him, so he is okay. Regulus looks unimpressed. 

“Do you have your CBD oil?” Regulus inquires, instead of dealing with James’s need to appear fine all the time. 

“Yes.”

“Right, well, I’ll deal with you later,” Regulus says cryptically.

Sirius clears his throat, “Regulus it is just so good to see you, I am so glad you’re giving me, your sibling, and Remus, your best friend, as much attention as you’re giving this random bloke who used to eat mud.”

“Oi!” Is James’s immediate response. 

“He did do that, didn’t he?” Regulus contemplates with scrutiny. 

“Yes. Yes, he really, really did.” 

(And Regulus sits back down, finishes his tea, and speaks to the others. His elbow is pressed against James’s, and he wants to write the worst song about it, but he just drinks his tea ‘till he gets to the bottom of the mug. He knows what he’ll find there, black blocky letters, reading, “I JUST POISONED YOU.” It makes him grin like an idiot.) 

 ★

“Take off your trousers,” Regulus orders, after dragging James into his room and shutting the door soundly. James begins a splutter to rival Evan after he threw up on Sirius’s shoes, but Regulus cuts him off with sparkling eyes. “Not like that, Jesus Potter, I’d have a bit more decorum than that.” (Ominous boy.) “You’re in pain, and if I don’t do something about it you’re just going to continue to silently want to rip your hands off.”

“Regulus, honestly, you’re fussing over nothing, I’m,” and because James Potter is not a good liar, he says “fine.” because it’s the universal term for not being fine at fucking all, and he can’t commit to a lie even when it’s something he deeply deeply wants to keep hidden. (He hates his pain, he hates the way it sets him apart from everyone else, he hates that it makes people worry about him and that he has to need instead of being needed . But most of all, he hates himself for hating the body he was given.) 

“Okay, maybe your airheaded uni friends who can’t see past their own lives to look at yours don’t realize it, but we grew up together, and I’m not an idiot. I love you. Just. Let me help, James. If not for yourself, then for me.” Regulus is rarely sincere like this, James knows why. Regulus confided in him a long while ago, that giving away pieces of himself after everything at home, feels like stripping naked and handing the person daggers. Like looking at them and telling them he had Clubfoot when he was a baby so his left foot points inwards a bit and is half a size smaller than the other. Like telling them he’s got asthma and a flight of stairs can wind him on a bad day. Like telling them his neck was messed up as a kid and it never healed right. Like telling them where to cut, and how, and showing them all his physical weaknesses. Except it's worse, because they’ll see inside his mind. And one thing about Regulus Black, is that he’s terrified of his own mind. And, another thing, he’ll never admit it. (Like telling them that stories with good parents make him uncomfortable, and he hates being uncomfortable. Like telling them he’s such a dick because he’s covering for cowardice. Like telling them he fears that somewhere inside of himself he’s really just broken and detached and freezing cold.) 

“Don’t – you know I’ll let you help when you word it like that, you conniving bastard. Yeah – fine – I have to get my rolly.”

“I already got it, don’t bother. If you sit down will you be able to get back up again?”

“You went in my bag? Maybe you’re the creep. Also, capability isn’t really the question.”

Regulus rolls his eyes and sighs, slipping the stick from his pocket and spinning the cap off. “Just, push your shirt up, I’ll do your back first.” The pushy git doesn’t even ask where he hurts, just assumes he knows. (Which, in all fairness, his back does hurt, but still.) James, resigned to his fate of being loved by Regulus Black , picks up the back of his shirt a bit. Regulus pushes the cool head of the rolly onto either side of his spine, working in a few slow circles before replacing it with the firm press of his fingers. He moves his way down James’s spine, probably smug as all fuck in the way James is melting under the warmth of his hands. (You really can’t blame him, this is an obscenely rare occurrence for him. His doctors have told him he should have someone else massage his painful spots for him, but James doesn’t want anyone to see him like this, to touch him like this. He…this is the James Potter when nobody’s looking, but Regulus won’t shift his gaze.) (It feels so fucking nice to get any kind of relief from the constant pressing discomfort. It feels so fucking nice to let himself accept that love and comfort in the very specific way he always pretends he doesn’t need.) 

“Anywhere else on your back?” Regulus asks, his breath ghosting cool across the tacky skin of his back. And James wants to scream, he wants to cry and shout everywhere, everywhere always fucking hurts and I feel so close to bursting and I want to drown, I want the pain to stop and I want to live without living for the little pockets of ‘less pain than usual’. He doesn’t, he just opens his eyes and shakes his head. Regulus pushes James's shirt down for him. “Let me get at your hip.”

“Are you…hitting on me?”

“It wouldn’t be a question, Potter.” (Ominous, ominous boy.) 

James chuckles, because Regulus always makes him laugh, makes him happy, even when he’s seconds away from excusing himself to cry in a bathroom. He hooks his thumb into the left side of his jeans and tugs them down a bit, so Regulus can get to where it aches. (A bone-deep ache.) (He’ll never be able to outrun it.) (It’s in him and he cannot dig it out.) Regulus hesitates just a moment, a stutter that almost no one else would have seen, but James knows him, has learned him like a curious boy craves to learn about the boarded-up house on the corner. He assumes Regulus isn’t as sure about where this pain might be, which is fair, so James takes his hand and guides it to the tender skin and bone of his. It’s a vulnerable spot, more so than the bumps of his spine. At least, it feels that way. But, weirdly enough, he craves Regulus’s touch wherever he’s more likely to crumble. Regulus moves like he never stopped and swipes his thumb over the smooth brown skin. There’s a mole an inch above his thumb. He presses the pad of his thumb into it and then swirls the CBD oil an inch down. He pushes his thumbs in, pushing, kneading, pressing, and pressing. (James promptly feels as if he's taking advantage of this situation, as his body starts to react in a particularly inappropriate way.) 

“I need to get to your knees,” Regulus informs him when he’s finished with his hip. James thinks of how he could do this without ending up in his pants, but his jeans won’t roll above his knees. Regulus rolls his eyes and goes to dig in his dresser for a moment, before chucking something at James’s face. After James disentangles with a disgruntled noise or two, he looks at the fabric in his hands. Plaid pajama bottoms he must have left here on one of his previous stays. “Put those on, roll them above your knees.” 

“Have you gotten bossier?” James asks as he unbuttons his jeans, because really they’re at the stage where they can change in front of each other, even if it makes his face heat up like he’s doing something clandestine. (Also, honestly, he doesn’t want to walk out and back in again. He’s a creaky old man.) (He hopes Regulus doesn’t see his fingers shake, doesn’t see him struggle and fail to get the button out three times.) 

“You like it,” Regulus responds in an uncharacteristically flirty manner. James looks up as he’s slipping into the looser bottoms, and he seems to realize what he said because he seems baffled by his mouth running off without him. (This is Regulus Black we’re talking about. What shook him?) 

“Oh?”

“Shut up. Sit on the bed. I hate you.”

“That really doesn’t have the same bite when you’re taking care of me, Reg, love.” But he dutifully sits on the bed and rolls up the legs to bunch above his knees. Regulus gets on his knees, and really, when did chronic pain get so dirty? He rubs the oil in a circle around his right kneecap.

“You couldn’t get your button undone. I’m doing your fingers next.” Regulus tells him, (so he did see) because apparently, Regulus Black doesn’t ask things. (Or maybe it’s just something he’s learned to do because James has always been this way about his pain.) James goes to argue that really he’s fine, it’s not that bad, he survives by himself, he doesn’t need to be doted on. Regulus beats him to it. “Don’t start. You’re allowed to be in pain James, for god's sake, when I’m not around who helps you? No one, because no one else will make you let them. You’re allowed to need James. It’s a condition of being human, you will hurt, and you will need.” James knows Regulus delivers these words sharply because James needs to hear them sharply. He’s uncomfortable with the concept of being the one taken care of, he always has been, but Regulus doesn’t let him suffer because of it. Just presses his pale thumbs into burning skin. He’s ashamed and wants to snap that he’s a grown man, not a child, but Regulus doesn’t deserve that. 

“I don’t need help.” It’s an immediate argument, always on the tip of his tongue when Regulus is like this. (He used to think that really, he wasn’t entitled to it. He comes from a happy family with loving parents and a lot of money, he was made to be stable and good and the caretaker of any dynamic he’s a part of. When he let a bit of this slip, Regulus swiftly dismantled all of his careful complexes with a, “that’s not human. More importantly, that’s not fair.” Which followed many many years of Regulus slowly, and unforgivingly, reminding James that needing things was a birthright.) 

“Look me in the eye and tell me this isn’t going to make the rest of the day easier. Tell me what I’m doing isn’t productive, and your pain is the same either way.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Right, then. Accept the help, accept that you do need it, and accept that no one will ever blame you for it.” Regulus makes him feel terribly loved sometimes, in the weirdest of ways. James isn’t going to just magically accept all these ‘truths’, but he also thinks Regulus knows this about him. That’s why he keeps saying it, and keeps pressing his thumbs in. 

“I love you too. I never said it, earlier, after you.” James deflects instead, comfortable in his affections for other people, not his affections for himself. 

“It was rhetorical.”

“‘I love you’ is never rhetorical to me.” 

Regulus finishes up both of his knees, then brings down the fabric over them. He doesn’t ask James for his hands, simply unfurls them from where they’ve gathered around each other in his lap. He takes the most time here, on each knuckle, the skin around it. It’s slow and methodical, the way he concentrates on this like he concentrates on writing. James has never known attention and care like this, the quiet mundane kind. The sore knees and deft fingers covered in pain reliever kind. The time-consuming, silent-room, easy-breathing, vulnerable, pain-out-in-the-open, needy kind. Not from anyone but Regulus. No one has taken the time, and he didn’t give them enough to warrant it. It kind of chokes him up, the way Regulus is sat before him with laser focus and gentle fingers. And knowledge. He knows what James needs, and when he doesn’t he asks and he wants to be doing this. He… wants to give James the things he tells himself he doesn’t need. (There’s something in it all, in the way Regulus moves his hands, that makes James think distantly of worship, and something pure and holy and honeysuckle sweet.) 

Regulus, like the lionheart he is, looks up at James with this confusing little smile and a pinch between his brows. “You know, anyone would be willing to do this for you?” James shakes his head immediately, because really, no they wouldn't. Or, at the very least, they should never have to. He could never ever ask someone to do this for him. And, apart from that, it feels demeaning – like he would be undermining Regulus’s affection if he agreed with him.

“I’m not going to make someone do this, Regulus.” James isn’t looking at him, because he’s full of shame and it’s in his eyes. The line of his shoulders. He’s draped in it. 

“I like when you let me do it.” Regulus counters simply, a bit like James is an idiot. Like maybe, really, he’s so caught up in his own silent humiliation that he hasn’t been paying attention to Regulus’s silent devotion. 

“ Let ? Like it’s – it’s…something good ?” 

“You’re not the only one who likes being needed, Potter. Though yours is arguably more out of obligation. And of course, I like doing it, you’re in pain and I can make it better, sometimes, even if it’s only the tiniest amount. It’s still a speck of good I can do for you.” 

James doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know what will be enough. If anything ever could be enough. So he says, “thank you.” And tries to make it as clear as possible that he’s also saying I love you and yeah okay maybe I do need you and I hate that you know me but I think I love it so much too and please never leave and have patience because I don’t know if this will ever make sense to me and thank you thank you thank you . 

“Don’t thank me, it’s a complex. Like yours.” (James thinks he’s joking, but with Regulus, you really can’t be sure.) 

“We match then, yeah?” James flashes him a grin and wiggles the pinky he’s working on.  

Regulus looks up, and James can’t breathe again. “Yes, I suppose so.” 

(By the time Regulus is done with him, James feels like maybe he fits into his skin just a little better. He has that way about him, making him feel like he isn’t too big. And his hands help his skin stop feeling so small.) 

 ★

(“Oi! Why’d you come out of my baby brother's room wearing different pants?” “Christ alive, Sirius.”) 

 ★

“Can we order dinner? I could hear Remus’s stomach from the bathroom when I went.” “We could go out?” “No.” “Reg, why?” “I don’t want to. We can order something, I have a drawer of menus, one moment.”

 ★

“Can I put a record on?” “Go ahead.” 

Pushing through the market square, so many mothers sighing (sighing)

 ★

“Get your feet off the fucking table, I need to put the food down. Honestly. Untrained dog.” “Oi!”

 ★

“Stop bickering, my god, just put on The Office or Parks and Rec, they’re shows we can actually agree upon.” “He’s so bossy. Isn’t he bossy, Remus?” “Yes, James, it’s practically a birthright.” “Now that’s just rude, Lupin.” 

 ★

It’s late, the middle of the night, everyone's asleep. Or, Remus and Sirius are asleep on the blow-up mattress and Regulus is hiding in his room or working in the spare room he converted into a studio. Probably not asleep, Regulus isn’t one to go to sleep before four. Either way, no one’s around. James pushes up from the couch, careful not to wake them up, and heads to the kitchen. He opens the fridge and roots around until he finds the lettuce. It’s something that started when he was little, around seven he thinks (but he can’t remember what age a lot of things happened when he was little, so most things happened “around seven”). He just…eats lettuce. He cuts it up and eats it, usually in the middle of the night, but sometimes if he’s hungry without being hungry. He’s putting his spoils on a plate when Regulus walks in and heaves a sigh. 

He’s painted warm and soft in the glow of the small kitchen light, his hair a bit messy from changing, and his pajamas too big. (He’s beautiful, he’s so so beautiful. James wants to kiss him so fucking bad it hurts .) (He’s also holding a book and a zip-up that could have been any of theirs but is definitely not his, which makes James think he knew what he’d find in his kitchen.) He has his eyebrow raised at James (probably at the joint tucked behind his ear). 

“Regulus, everything you’re wearing right now is mine.” James points out, standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding a plate of lettuce. Regulus looks down at what he’s wearing (his ‘Easy Tiger’ Flyte shirt, and a pair of plaid flannel bottoms. Honestly, how many clothes has he left here) as if he hadn’t realized.

“Oh? I suppose I am. You should probably keep better track of your things.”

“Maybe this is all a secret plan of mine, leave my stuff here so I can see you in it the next time I visit.” (It wasn’t but it is now.)

Regulus moves to get a cup and fills it up with ice. “You’re diabolical. What’s next, world domination?”

“Only if it's your world I’m dominating.”

“That. Was so bad.” Regulus bites the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. “Okay, Potter, either my room or the balcony.” James chooses the balcony, he loves it out there and it’s cool out. (Regulus has strings of star lights and a speaker that looks like a radio and a few pots of flowers.) (Plus it’s obviously the one Regulus would pick, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought a jacket.) (Also…he did have intentions.) 

James takes a moment to marvel at the fact that Regulus hadn’t made a comment at one of his semi-weird habits, just grabbed ice to chomp on and followed him into the dim glow. Regulus puts on a playlist that James isn’t sure he can name, but Pale Blue Eyes by The Velvet Underground plays, and it makes him want to laugh a bit. They sit in (otherwise) silence for a while, eating their snack of choice and looking out at the life other people are leading out below. 

James takes the joint from behind his ear and fumbles for the lighter in his pocket. He lights it between his teeth, and there it is, that smokey burn in his diaphragm. The warm blanket he knows will settle over his bones soon. He holds it out to Regulus, there’s a 50/50 if he’ll join him or not, and James never wants to make him feel like he has to, so he keeps a silent invitation. Regulus plucks it from his fingers and James tries (and fails) not to watch him bring it to his mouth. (He has these pretty ashy-pink bowed lips. Regulus claims that, as a Black, he would never pout. However, he’s also a liar. And James can’t blame him, if he looked like that while pouting, he’d do it all the fucking time. He just has the prettiest fucking mouth, and James thinks of saying it out loud all the time, of asking if he can trace the plush of his bottom lip and maybe push in a little – okay. These are unsafe, objectifying thoughts about a friend. So he will be moving away from them now, before he lights himself on fire from the inside.) 

He coughs a bit, he really only smokes with James. and he probably tastes like heady mint now, and James wants to kiss him so badly. He wants to taste the difference in their tongues, the details amongst the overarching campfire of it all. Regulus passes it back, James supposes it's close enough. 

Regulus flicks his gaze over to James, and it’s hard to see in this light, but James knows his eyes so well. (Really, sadly well.) How did he describe that bloke’s eyes in his story… akin to a kaleidoscope…shattered crystal…broken mirrors...they were bottomless…Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds? They’re this slightly murky grey-blue. They’re little storm clouds. They’re dark shutters –but god , when they open? There’s nothing like it. He was right, with whatever he was trying to capture in his story, he’s seeing Regulus as that sad cowboy with shining mirrors for eyes. (Though James suspects the blue of it all was really rather important, and there’s something in the way that Regulus’s aren’t light.) (Regulus would call his eyes the color of wet pavement, he refuses to believe that he might be more special than that. James can agree with the rain, though. With Regulus, it’s always rain.) 

(James loves the rain.) 

Regulus breaks the comfortable quiet they’d settled into (passing the joint back and forth, brushing, brushing fingers), all surety (all faux-surety). “Could I read you something? It’s popular, so you might know it, but I think it's…you might like it. Might be a nice thing to hear, I suppose. And Mary Oliver isn’t someone who should be paraphrased, she should be read in full.” His voice is rough and warm and James wants to taste it against his mouth. 

“You don’t have to ask,” James responds softly, because really, the moment calls for it. (And more than that, he wants to be soft. He likes being soft. And he likes being soft with Regulus .) (He’s floating, just bobbing on the ocean a bit, he’s not gone, but he aches so much less. It’s like he can finally settle. He wants to be able to lay in the garden and sink into the soil and breathe .) Regulus opens his well-loved paperback book and finds what he’s looking for, running his fingers over pages, before clearing his throat. (Him reading is such a show, honestly.) (James adores it.) 

James briefly considers launching himself at Regulus. Then decides, not yet . But, maybe soon. Things have started to feel like soon is a real possibility. (How can this lovely lovely boy read honey-sweet words to him in a husky voice and not expect to be showered in kisses?) He can feel the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, which is stupid really – except it’s not. James doesn’t care if this is the most popular poem ever written and they teach it in schools and everyone everywhere has heard it at least once, he doesn’t care. Because whether it’s that, or some underground barely-known jumble of words, Regulus read it and thought of him . And it’s fucking beautiful and hopeful and this moment feels like a careful caress. Like the way he massaged his fingers just last night. Like fucking devotion. 

“Anyway, just, her writing tends to make me think of you. I thought I’d share an obvious one.” (He says it the air of a love declaration, the air of someone repenting, the air of a confession. James feels like he missed a step on the stairs.) (How many things make him think of James? He says it like it’s not a big deal, like maybe it happens all the time.)

“Thank you.” (He sounds rough to his own ears, but maybe it can be blamed on the embers between his fingers.) Will he ever be able to thank Regulus properly, for all he is? How bright he makes James’s life by just existing? Probably not, but for every I love you there’s a thank you , and he thinks in some way, for them, they’re tied together. 

“It’s just a poem.” (It’s not, and James is sure they both know that.)

“Shut up,” James says, not unkindly, and rests his hand on one of Regulus’s. They can have this, can’t they? Even if he isn’t sure what they are anymore, or when it changed, or why he can’t breathe right whenever he thinks about himself for too long, they can have this. They can have lettuce and ice and pale blue eyes and warm smoke and the soft animals of their bodies. 

 ★

James wakes up to an empty room. An empty kitchen. An empty balcony, and an empty bathroom. Logically, they probably just went out, but there's a line of panic winding through him because he isn’t sure. He doesn’t know. He’s a bit sleepy still, disoriented, and Remus and Sirius aren’t there. He really wouldn’t knock on Regulus’s door unless he was a bit distresssed, because it seems like it's still early and Regulus is Not a Morning Person. 

He knocks. 

And Regulus opens the door looking like he’s already prepared a rant and a murder. (His hair is fluffy from sleeping on it, and his shirt ( James’s shirt ) is hanging down a bit at the front. (Collarbones!) (And dear god his cross. )) 

“Where are Sirius and Remus?”

“Remus woke me up obscenely early to inform me that they felt like parents who were finally on vacation and would be going out enjoying the day together. I told him it was a weird comparison and he said oh no don’t worry you and james aren't related which made it more weird honestly, I don’t know, it was early. I assume they'd done that.” Regulus is rubbing at his eye and his socked feet are different sizes and his hair is messy and James might die. 

“Oh.” Because he wants to say that's actually bloody lovely ‘cause I see them more often than you and really I'm quite possessive and obsessed with you and they’d honestly be getting in the way even though I love them an indescribable amount. But he can’t say that. That’s not cool, probably, not even to think really. It’s ungrateful because Sirius drove him, and for gods sake Regulus is his brother and Remus’s best friend since primary, but James also can’t help but think maybe they know what they're doing. Like this is a chance or a push or something. 

“Don’t speak to me again.” Then he slams the door. (James thinks he means just until he’s actually up.) 

 ★

“I was thinking we could go to the grocery store – to get things for dinner, and the rest of the weekend.” Is how Regulus greets him, hours later.

James aches a bit at that, at how domestic and simply sweet it sounds. It’s not like they’ve never popped into a shop together before, but between the way Regulus phrased it and the increasing pressure in his chest, it feels bigger. Like maybe it’s never meant more than it does in this moment, or maybe this is the start of something. Or maybe he’s just really fucking in love and should stop ignoring it, because now he’s soppy over walking through the produce aisle together. (He supposes, in all fairness to himself, he is an awfully soppy person normally.) 

“Any kind of plan?” 

“I thought we could make our own pizzas. It gives everyone a chance to be involved and personalize their own dish.”

“Yeah, alright. You know Sirius and I are going to make a mess of your kitchen though right?”

With a sigh that tells him he is more than aware and resigned to their specific brand of stupidity, he says, “all too well.” 

James grins, it’s what he’s good at, before he remembers the text he woke up to this morning. “Hey, Peter finished his essay and asked if he could crash the party?”

“Obviously. When can he get here?”

“It’ll be later. I’ll talk to him.” 

 ★

“How about this?” James asks as he holds a handful of chocolate bars. 

“Does he really deserve that much chocolate after abandoning us?” Regulus looks from the chocolate to James before pushing his glasses up his nose for him. His fingers are cool. James has a lot of feelings about it. 

Yes, god, yes. He deserves a warehouse of chocolate. “I have to drive back with him, better to keep him happy.” James dumps all of it into the trolley. Regulus rolls his eyes. 

“I have a list, Potter, do you know what that is? We use it. To guide us.” Regulus reaches into his coat pocket and brings out a folded lined piece of paper. 

“How…adult.” 

“You should be a year and some change better at it than me, yeah?” Regulus knows damn well that he’s better at almost everything than James is, it’s a condition of being Regulus Black. 

“Where first?”

“Produce, like normal people.” 

“Normal people…that’s just not us Reg.”

With a sigh so heavy James isn't sure Regulus has any more air to work with, Regulus pushes the trolley. “Don’t say ‘us’. I could be normal. I’m boring, and mundane, and mostly settled as a human being. I’m well-adjusted. I could be normal if my friend circle wasn’t you guys. Barty and Evan are also weird so I can’t even find solace in them.” 

“Have you seen the murder walls in your bedroom? You are not well-adjusted or normal.” James thinks back to the walls in Regulus’s room with book pages and notebook pages and sticky notes and random images. (He’s still not completely convinced that Regulus isn’t more than a little insane.) 

“They aren’t murder walls,” Regulus grumbles, probably much too used to this argument, and sounding it. 

“It’s okay, I’d support you in your violent endeavours. Cheer you on in your Ghostface mask. Actually that sounds kind of hot…you might need to be Ghostface at the next plausible opportunity.” (James is fucked, let him live.) 

“Is this a kink of yours?”

It’s just you. It’s always just you. “It’s the Ghostface effect.” 

(Regulus is actually doing the shopping. Or, making James check the produce (he’s magic, can sniff out the absolute best ones) while they talk. Regulus is nothing if not efficient. James is almost entirely distracted with shopping with Regulus to be too much help with the actual shopping . Regulus doesn’t seem to mind.) (And really all James can think about is Regulus’s slanted handwriting in small black notebooks and Regulus letting James put anything he wants in the trolley even though he acts bothered about it, and James getting Regulus’s favorites and Regulus getting James’s favorites, and this daydream he has of them walking home holding hands and putting everything away together in a shared flat. His crisps next to Regulus’s. His orange juice next to Regulus’s apple juice.) 

By the time they’re at the till they have a trolley full enough that Regulus will be eating or throwing out their snacks long after they’ve gone home. James is putting sauce and cheese on the belt when Regulus tugs at something around his neck. He looks down at the chain he has pinched between his fingers, it must have slipped out of his shirt when he was reaching. 

“You…still wear it?” It’s awkward because they’re in line and people are waiting but there’s this meaningful furrow between his eyebrows and a nearly hopeful glint in his eyes. 

“Well, yeah, of course.” Regulus stares at it a moment longer before tucking away the gaudy plastic ring he’d gotten James from one of those little machines years ago. He used to wear it all the time, on his hand, but it doesn’t fit anymore, so he switched it to a chain a while back. He keeps it tucked away, because really, it’s for him. It rests on his chest, and it's for him. 

“Sentimental bastard.” (James grins.) 

 ★

They’re putting away groceries! It’s genuinely exactly as disgustingly domestic as James has dreamed of, with the added bonus of Regulus snapping at him about things in the wrong spot, repeatedly. Like somehow he should know where every single thing goes in a house he does not actually live in. It’s spectacular. 

Until someone knocks. 

James looks to Regulus, who already has a grimace in place. “Expecting someone?” (And suddenly, he remembers, peaches! ) 

“No…but only three people come to my house, apart from you lot, and Sirius has a key.” Regulus shuffles around James, still holding a tomato. James, being a mix of curious, nosey, and peaches, follows him, without putting down the flour in his arms. Regulus opens the door and it’s…Evan and Barty. Oh, trouble. Barty already has a sharp grin in place and Evan looks mildly uncomfortable and more than a little exasperated. 

“No,” Regulus says and then immediately swings the door shut. Barty shoves his shoe in and catches it, pushing his way in, forcing James and Regulus to back up and allow entrance. Evan is smiling now, just a very tiny thing, but an affection for Barty nonetheless. 

“Yes,” Barty argues, dragging Evan in all the way and shutting the door. “Hello my darling boy,” he coos, grabbing Regulus and kissing him all over (though very carefully not near his mouth). 

“I wish you were dead,” Regulus states simply, but he’s smiling. James makes eye contact with Evan and he shrugs, letting his smile grow a bit more. (James is starting to suspect that Evan might be a bit shy, though he very much pretends not to be.) 

“You don’t have to degrade me just because your boyfriend is here, baby, he understands our love. Mine does.” Barty seems kind of sleazy if you don’t know him, and sometimes even when you do. But mostly it’s just harmless flirting that James is pretty sure is 50% just him being him and 50% to get under his skin. Barty takes a very specific delight in getting James worked up. 

“He’s not my boyfriend, you twat, and you like being degraded.”

James grabs the tomato Regulus is clutching and heads back to the kitchen, he doesn’t like Barty hanging all over him and he doesn’t like the sound of not my boyfriend even more. He goes back to putting things away, arranging their juices together and moving  the flour on the counter to another section of counter. He puts the tomato away in its drawer and is pulling out more produce when they wander in from the front room. Regulus leans against the wall, shamelessly watching him do all the work. 

“Oi, these are your groceries, Black.”

“Those crisps certainly aren’t mine.” Regulus raises an eyebrow, as if that’s any actual argument. Barty’s whistle slams into the end of his sentence at James being bent over, putting mushrooms away. He looks up, grins with a wink, and goes back to organizing things so Regulus can yell at him later. 

“I’m going to choke you,” Evan whispers. 

“God, yes, please,” Barty practically moans. 

“Not here, good lord.” 

“Did you come to my flat to get off on your exhibitionist tendencies? Frankly, James and I are not willing company. In fact, leave.” 

“Actually Evan wanted to see James,” Barty counters.

“Awe.” James puts a hand over his heart and moves to pull Evan in with his other. 

“No I didn’t. Erm, no offense, you’re great, but Barty wanted to come bother everyone. Speaking of, where’s, uh, Sirius?” Evan, however, lets James hang onto him. 

Regulus cackles. And god, he’s evil, and James loves him. Also, Evan smells like oranges and freshly mown grass. Not peaches. “He and Remus will probably be back late afternoon.” 

“Peter?”

“Probably about the same time?” James cuts in. 

“What’re the plans?” Barty asks, leaning against Regulus like he owns him or something. Okay, so, yeah, he and Evan are still awkwardly clutching at each other in the middle of the kitchen. But. Well. He doesn’t really have an argument. He just wants Barty to stop touching him. He knows he himself doesn’t actually have any claim on Regulus either, and Barty is entirely dating Evan, but logic doesn’t stop the twist in his gut. 

“Personal pizzas and Rocky Horror, you are not invited, leave.” Regulus replies simply, pushing away from him and towards James, to finish putting stuff away. (He got distracted hugging, leave him be.) (Though he disentangles now.)

“Is it all the sexual frustration making you so grouchy?” 

“He’s asexual?” 

“Demi-sexual,” James and Regulus chorus together. 

“If we’re being specific, but I do prefer the term asexual.” 

“Okay, so, my question stands.” Barty slings himself over Evan, stuffing him into his side. Maybe he’s possessive too. Hm. 

“Get out.” 

“But, Reggie…”

Regulus scrunches up his face at the nickname and James loves him. “Get. Out.” 

“C’mon Barty,” Evan says lightly, tugging at the slinky of a man. “It was nice seeing you James.”

“You too.” 

A minute later, the door swings shut with a whoosh. 

“He is so scared of Sirius. It’s hilarious. Being scared of Sirius .” Regulus clucks his tongue and shuts the fridge. They look at each other for a moment, and it’s so stupid because they’re just standing in a kitchen looking at each other, but the moment is this huge fucking ocean and James has no idea what to do with it. 

“Dough. We have to make the dough.” 

They make the dough. 

(And at one point, when music is playing, Thirteen by Big Star to be specific, and Regulus wants to get past, James blocks his way even more. It went like this: 

“If you let me spin you.”

“No.”

“A shuffle?”

“No.”

“A…shimmy?”

“More no.” 

“You’re not getting past unless you dance with me for a moment. You can’t bake with me, have music going, and expect me not to want to dance. I’m like a pig with a pancake.” 

“James.”

“Regulus.”

“Fine, fine. Two lines, one spin. Then you’re letting me past. You’re a nightmare, honestly.”

“You love me.”

“I tolerate you.”

“Sure, love, tolerate.” 

They danced the whole song.)

 ★

Won’t you let me walk you home from school?

Won’t you let me meet you at the pool?

Maybe Friday I can

Get tickets for the dance

And I’ll take you, ooh-ooh

Won’t you tell your dad, “get off my back” 

Tell him what we said ‘bout ‘Paint It Black’

Rock and Roll is here to stay 

Come inside where it’s okay

And I’ll shake you, ooh-ooh 

Won’t you tell me what you’re thinking of?

Would you be an outlaw for my love? 

If it’s so, well, let me know

If it’s no, well, I can go

I won’t make you, ooh-ooh 

 ★

Peter is shouting something through the door. Why do none of his friends have manners? And why is it exactly why he adores them all? He’d convinced Regulus to keep dancing with him, here and there, throughout dinner prep. He spins him out of his arms now, hating every moment of it, to retrieve his untrained mate. 

“Yes, Peter, hello,” James greets opening the door to a grinning Peter.

“I found them snogging in the car like teenagers,” he informs him and a hovering Regulus. Remus and Sirius are walking up the stairs, not looking at all embarrassed. 

“Well. A proper welcome then, aye?”

“Quite,” Peter agrees, launching himself into James’s arms. James chuckles and spins them around a bit, trying to keep his balance. 

“We’re barely past being teenagers, anyway,” Sirius grumbles as he enters the flat.

“God, at the rate you all keep showing up I’m going to need to dismantle my studio and put in a bed,” Regulus complains, but he warmly accepts Peter's hug. (James distantly wonders if Regulus will insist he take his bed, or share it, or if he’ll make him sleep on the ground without a care. James is obviously giving Peter the couch, and he supposes the air mattress is an option if he doesn’t value his ribs (Remus’s elbows are violent).)

“You love us.” Peter grins. 

“Debatable.”

 ★

“James Potter.”

“I’m sorry! I warned you!” James apologizes immediately, elbow up in a defensive move against Sirius’s flour attack. Regulus glares at him, it’s so fucking cute. He has flour on his nose. Who knows how. Maybe Remus, who has some in his eyebrow and against his chin. Maybe Peter…he is the closest (and has flour…just…everywhere). Maybe either he or Sirius got him in the powder zone. Maybe he did it by himself. 

Regulus reaches out and scrubs at the flour in James’s hair. It really, really wouldn’t be a problem at all. It wouldn’t be overly romantic or flirty or anything, because Regulus is giving him a lecture and frowning, except right across from them Sirius and Remus are doing much the same. Sirius is twirling Remus’s loose curls around his fingers, scattering flour into the air, and scrubbing at his face with his sleeve. It throws their thing – whatever they are – into sharp relief. (Peter is standing at the end of the table, making the prettiest fucking pizza you will ever see, trying his best not to laugh everytime flour rains down from his hair. It’s kind of gross, but all of them are, and really, health safety?)

James is a weak man. He licks the flour off of Regulus’s nose. He can play it off. Or maybe he won’t. See how it plays out. Regulus startles; looks deeply affronted, eyebrow raised and an open-mouth frown is forming. “Why. Are. You. Like. This?” 

“I was spoilt as a child.”

“I’m not sure that applies here.” Regulus says, seemingly moving past his wet nose and going back to cleaning up flour, both from James’s person and the area around them. James tries to help, but Regulus (affectionately) snaps at him to just make his goddamn pizza. So, he does. 

(Regulus got so into picking up after them and cleaning the flour from every surface possible that he kind of forgot he was meant to be making a pizza, also. James ends up doing it for him, just the way he likes it (light sauce, lots of cheese, spinach, olives on half. He…has issues.)  

 ★

Sirius informed all of them the very first time, and continues to inform all of them every single time, that they are not to watch Rocky Horror the “wrong way”. It is a production, a show, and therefore will be appreciated as such. So every time, without fail, he has Remus and Peter prepare snacks and set everything up (though Regulus hovers if he’s there), and sends everyone else to immediately get dressed. Properly. Honestly, he – 

“Sirius, what are the pronouns today?”

“He/she.” 

 – is a complete disaster. (A complete disaster who really loves heels and tends to make the night absolutely fantastic for everyone involved. And also who possibly enjoys giving her brother an aneurism a bit too much.) 

James walks out of the bathroom. Then promptly walks back in. Code motherfucking RED. Are you actually kidding me right now!? He really, truly, honestly, does not know what he was expecting. Not even a bit. No, not at all, he honestly can say he spent no time thinking about it. Because it would have just caused a panic, as it is now, holy fucking fucking fuck fuck fuck. 

Regulus is Magenta.

Always has been.

Usually he wears the maid outfit, or some form of black/white similar uniform to keep with theme. (Which, look, don’t get James wrong, okay. Regulus in a dress? It does things to him .) 

He has gone a different route tonight. 

James looks into the mirror. Brad Majors having a gay panic stares back. 

Regulus has decided to go for her look a little later in the movie, with some alterations. He’s wearing – dear lord   – he’s wearing studded lingerie under a sheer black slip. James has seen God, he has seen him, he is in his apartment, and he will repent, he swears it. He will get on his knees right here, because Regulus Black is wearing eyeliner and mascara and James can see so much skin. So, so so so much skin. 

James adjusts his blue robe (not identical, not really, but close enough) and sends prayers to every god he doesn’t believe in. 

He leaves the bathroom, because really he has to eventually, and at this rate he never ever will if not right now. Sirius will be the last out, she takes obscenely long, but looks all the more gorgeous for it. Peter is in striped pajamas, wearing a DIY-d Disneyland hat, with aggressive pink blush (because he actually quite likes that bit). Regulus is…Regulus. It’s worse up close. Or better. Depending on James’s death wish, honestly he can’t decide. The slip swirls around his hips, brushes his thighs as he moves and James genuinely cannot think or breathe or feel anymore. He distantly thinks he hears himself gulp. This. Should not be allowed. But he needs to stop staring, it's not cool. He shifts his gaze. Remus is in a mismatched suit that he and Sirius scoured charity shops for, before promptly distressing it. He has gloves on, and most of his chest is on display. How does he make Riff Raff hot? 

Regulus turns to him and raises an eyebrow. “Nice robe.”

“Nice…thighs.”

“Eyes up here, Potter,” Regulus chastises with a very very amused lilt to his smile (It’s sharp, like a dagger. Oh it is trouble. Sirius gets all the credit for being the mischievous one of the two, and Regulus loves to pretend there isn't a single speck of special about him, but that boy could bring Jesus Christ to his knees with a smirk.) James meets his eyes, deciding to just pretend like half of his brain isn’t shut down completely. Regulus turns to help Peter bring popcorn and soda into the living room, cackling exactly like his Rocky Horror counterpart. 

He’s so fucking screwed. 

“Nice thighs? James just kiss him next time, honestly, you just open your mouth and let things leave it.” Remus is all wise and mild-mannered responsibility and soft fade into the background smiles, but he’s also fucking evil. (And also a bit rude, honestly, but he does the other stuff more.) 

“I'm just glad Sirius wasn’t here,” James sighs, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. 

Remus leaves, cackling all the same. Can people stop walking away from him while cackling? He is being distinctly laughed at, and he loves it almost as much as he hates it. 

 ★

Michael Rennie was ill

The Day the Earth Stood Still

But he told us where we stand.

“We should’ve put Pete in red lipstick.”

“Honestly, at the rate you lot objectify me, I could put together a case.”

“Should we stop?”

“No.” 

 ★

(Don’t let him know he James thinks so, but Regulus has the sweetest fucking singing voice. It was made to hum songs late at night. To glide lightly over a piano melody he’s plucking out. An absentminded few lines while he’s writing. It’s nothing showy or loud, it’s just Regulus.)

 ★

“His suit is so fucking ugly. Janet is wearing a baby pink outfit and said sure, yeah, go ahead Brad, wear that plaid bowtie and cummerbund. We won’t look uncoordinated at all! ” 

“...”

“Do you guys think Ralph and Brad are more than just bros?”

“Oh Peter…”

“...They are so much more than just bros.” 

“...”

“I think that’s lilac…”

 ★

Brad: Uh, everyone knows that Betty is a wonderful little cook.

“Sexism isn’t cool guys,” Sirius says, very seriously, gazing at all of them with his heavy-lined eyes. (He’s intimidatingly beautiful.) 

James gives her a sloppy cheek kiss. “For your troubles.” 

(She grins at that, because she’s a demon, really.)

 ★

  I really love the... skillful way... you beat the other girls... to the bride's bouquet.

(And if James and Peter clutch at each other and sing Dammit, Janet with all their worth, well, it’s quite literally what they’re meant to do.) (James gets up, does Brad's little run/dance, and sings there’s a fire in my heart and you fan it , at Regulus. It earns him an eye-roll (and a smile).) 

 ★

On a night out... it was a night out they were going to remember... for a very long time.

“Why’s he kind of…”

“Because you have issues.”

“No no hear me out.”

“I would, except…I simply do not wish to.” 

 ★

Yes, life's pretty cheap to that type.

“Do you guys think his ex-lover is a motorcyclist?” 

“Don’t be insensitive, Regulus, the wound is obviously still fresh.”

 ★

There’s a light (over at the Frankenstein place).

“Best song.”

“Remus, love, you have no taste.”

“I’m dating you, aren’t I?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I wasn’t flattering you. I was furthering your point.”

“Fucking rude.”

 ★

Through half-hearted arguments, lots of shuffling, Peter and James wrestling for a laughable amount of time, and finally Regulus faux-snapping at them all for acting like untrained dogs, or worse, children. One of you just sleep in my room, for Christ’s sake! The sleeping arrangements were settled. (Which, in all honesty, is really quite funny – James has seen Regulus with kids. He’s fantastic with them. Baby Nymphadora absolutely adored Regulus, Andromeda used to have him and Regulus babysit her all the time before they went off to uni. (Don’t tell her James referred to her as “baby Nymphadora”, as she is a very opinionated and strong-willed 8-year-old. She will have James’s kneecaps for such disrespect.) Anyway, all this to say, Regulus isn’t as bothered by children as he pretends to be.) 

This is how James ends up shuffling to Regulus’s room in his pajamas, while Peter cackles evilly behind him. That man was a villain in some past life, he’s sure, he is much too good at that laugh. 

He hesitates.

“Are you going to come in or just breathe outside my room all evening?” 

He opens the door. 

Regulus has changed already, obviously, though he’ll be up hours longer. He haunts his own flat like a fucking ghost. It’s a wonder they’ve seen him at all, really. If he’s in the middle of any project really, school-related or not, and they come to visit, they risk the chance of not seeing him at all. (He’s wearing a jumper, which is miraculously not James’s. It is, however, Remus’s.) 

James laughs, because Regulus is such a wonderfully odd creature. “Do you own any clothes that are actually yours?” He closes the door behin him and leans against it.

“Yes, obviously.” And it’s clear to James that Regulus could say more, but he’s mentally weighing the safety of letting anything slip about this. So James waits, if his knock gains him entry then he will gladly go in, but if Regulus turns him away…he’ll stay anyway. He doesn’t mind sitting on doorsteps, as long as they’re Regulus’s. “I like having parts of you guys – this proves to be the most effective method.” 

James is melting. Can Regulus see him becoming pools on his rug? What a thing to say! What an absolutely (correction) beautiful wonderfully odd (correction) sentimental creature. He’s soft in the middle, and isn’t it just phenomenal? He likes to be wrapped up in friends, his armor against the world handed to him by loved ones. James wants to fold him up and cut a place for him in his sternum, store him there for fucking ever. 

“We’re all yours,” James breathes. Maybe he isn’t talking about anyone else, though, not really. 

Regulus gives him this smile, it’s not bright or brilliant, it’s small and warm like a far-away star, and it’s an answer. It’s every answer to every fucking question, it’s a solution to every single problem he could ever encounter. It’s a salve for every fucking bruise. 

“I really want to kiss you right now.” And James didn’t mean to say it out loud, god no, there’s supposed to be a plan, a conversation, it’s supposed to be careful but he sounds more sure about this than he has about anything in his life. He’s so fucking tired of living life on the sidelines. 

Regulus cocks his head, that funny little smile still in place. There’s a look in his eyes like he doesn’t know if he should jump out his window and run for the hills or if he should grab James by the shirt and devour him. James spends the moments before he speaks suspended in pure panic. “Give yourself over to absolute pleasure, James.”

“Did – Did you just – quote Rocky Horror at me as a form of consent? What is wrong with you?” But he’s moving, by God he is moving. He didn’t fucking mean to speak his deepest urges out loud but Regulus met him there and he wont waste any more time. 

“It’s on theme.” 

“You’re fucking torture,” James informs him breathlessly, cupping his face like he’s wanted to since he knew what it meant to want. He’s acting cool, sure, but he’s trembling. James can feel it, and he wants to soothe him. He wants to let him know that it's okay, he doesn’t have to be scared or unsure about this. He doesn’t have to hold back or worry, he has James. He has him, in every goddamn world. (And any world where he doesn’t, well, it’s not a world worth living in.) He scrubbed his makeup off earlier, but some of it still clings around his eyes, to his eyelashes. James strokes his cheek with his thumb, taking a minute to just be this fucking close to him, to hold him like this. Because holy fucking shit, these are the moments before he kisses Regulus Black for the first time. (It doesn’t feel real) It’s a beginning, it’s seconds and seconds of tension and potential energy, and it’s so fucking hopeful. Regulus’s face has shifted, he’s not smiling anymore – his lips are parted slightly, and his eyes are huge. His face is open in James’s palms, for James, and he doesn’t want to be careful anymore, he wants to rip apart the chance of ruining everything they’ve built, with his teeth and nails. 

He, more than anything, in this moment, wants to let the momentum carry him forward. He wants to be rough and desperate and he wants it to feel like the fight and dance they’re always in. He wants it to be the deadliest waltz, he wants it to be attempted murder. But Regulus has the stars in his eyes, and James knows that’s not what this moment is. He kisses Regulus with a slowness that he finds in his molars, like he plans on staying there – forever, he’s not going anywhere ever again – he’s laying down his roots right here. They’re two huge redwoods, they’re ancient, they’ve been growing towards each other and getting tangled for hundreds of years. He feels the inevitability of them, the way they’ve maybe always been heading here, in the marrow of his shoulder blades. James thinks maybe the slip of their lips together is what all the poets have been trying to say. They’ll never put it into words. He likes that they try anyway. 

Regulus has his shirt fisted in catching hands, holding him there, two desperate pleas at his lower back. (Doesn’t Regulus know he isn’t going anywhere? Doesn’t he know they’re the largest trees in the world? Doesn’t he know they’ve wrapped around each other? Doesn’t he know it's always been this? Doesn’t he know it always, always will be?) Regulus is pushing back, losing his composure, making the kiss frantic and fucking burning. If James’s control is a stream, water and life, then Regulus’s is a forest fire, it’s hungry and catching catching catching . 

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” James tries to reassure, because Regulus seems terrified . Regulus makes a choked noise in his throat (his eyes are watering), and pulls James back in by his curls. And – really, if this is the reassurance he needs, James isn’t going to – pull away. Not from this, not from Regulus. (He’s still shaking, James doesn’t know if it’s the tension from being pulled taut and wanting, or the anxiety of finally having what you crave in the palm of your hand.) Regulus is kissing with abandon, like he hasn’t gone on rants and rants about how he tried, but most the time, he just didn’t get it . Like James is going to be ripped from him and hidden away. Like he’s been starving, weak-kneed, and gum-achingly hungry for those hundreds of years before now. Like James could nourish his very humanity.

A disappointment of the human body, it seems, is its need for oxygen. They seem to hit their limits at the same time, pulling away in tandem. James, however, is an opportunist and starts sucking on Regulus’s jaw, his neck, kissing under his ear, scraping his teeth against his pulse point. Regulus keeps releasing these shaky breaths and whimpers, like James is undoing him with the press of his lips alone, and the whole – situation really, is causing flags to rise rather quickly. 

Nevertheless, Regulus yanks them backwards towards the bed – laying on his back and pulling James on top of him. His hair is fanned out, and his lips have been abused to a deeper color. He has this flush washed over him, and his eyes are lust-addled already. He’s fucking gorgeous. James takes his hands (he wants to hold them) and pins them against the pillows. “Our friends are out there.”

James settles his knee between Regulus’s legs, applying the lightest pressure. (It’ll be enough.) “Sirius is out there, Regulus.”

Regulus sucks in a breath, rolling his hips seemingly against his will. “I don’t care . You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to fuck, James, and I finally have you in my bed. So shut up and touch me .” 

James, it turns out, is a bit of a stupid man. “Would it be suspicious if I put music on?”

“What are we, teenagers sneaking around? Are your parents home, James?”

“Do you want them to hear?”

“No, obviously this is not ideal, but I’m beneath you James, I really don’t fucking care about anything else right now.”

“It’s the hormones. Virgin hormones.”

“My god James, does it matter what it is? Does it really matter if it's me having been in love with you for years or the fact that my body has never known release at the hand of another?” Regulus looks wild, like an animal. Like a desperate man. 

“Well, a little actually.”

Regulus’s eyes turn to glinting metal, sharp sharp sharp. It’s so fucking hot, James is nervous, he can’t shut up. 

“James, I’ve practically been gagging for it my whole life, it's deeply depressing, and entirely sad, but it’s always been you. James, there was never a moment when it was anyone else.” 

“Oh, Regulus.” And then he’s diving back in, moving back into Regulus’s body like crashing fucking waves, and Regulus is gasping into his mouth, trying to muffle his little noises. (Unsuccessfully, and James is fucking living for it. Regulus is always so composed, quiet and put together, but he is falling apart at the seams and James is to blame.) They’re fully clothed and dry-humping like teenagers, if James isn’t careful he’s going to make this monumentally more embarrassing by coming in his pants. He pulls away, Regulus chases his mouth and James hates himself, but he has to ask. “Are you sure? Like really really sure? I know – this is so complicated for you and I’ll be here again you don’t – we don’t have to rush into anything just because – because you’re scared it’s your only chance. It's not.”

Regulus looks up at him for a long moment, still lightly rocking his hips – it’s fucking obscene and James is aching with how hard he is at this point. “We won’t – we can’t actually fuck, right now, for multiple reasons. Mainly, I’m just not – not that yet. And, condoms. Those are essential. And not in my home currently. But we – I want to do something. Anything, I don’t care, but I do, want to I mean. I want to so badly James, please, just anything. Give me anything, anything is enough.” 

And it’s not right, Regulus begging, but god it's hot. It’s really really hot. He’s so fucking desperate, and James wants to give it all to him. “Yeah, yeah, okay of course, yeah – what? Erm – I.” And during James’s attempt to decide what to do, Regulus grows impatient. He smiles at James, and it’s demonic. He’s got a grin made of trouble and bad intentions, and James rocks back into Regulus, chasing any little bit of friction. Regulus, rather suddenly, James feels, flips them over. He flails and it’s rather clumsy, but they eventually end up mirrored. James blinks and Regulus is tugging his shirt off and urging James to do the same. (James just stares at him for a moment, at his scars and his concave chest. At his dark moles scattered over his stomach, his sides, splattered around his back. He’s beautiful. God, do they ever stop? Are they everywhere? Will James get to kiss every single one?) James gets stuck in his shirt, somehow tangled which is sad because it’s a t-shirt, but Regulus is laughing and helping him out of it and throwing the shirt somewhere that James doesn’t see. 

Regulus is grinning, and James is grinning, and they’re kissing and grinning into each other’s mouths and laughing against teeth, and it’s all just a mess of hands and mussed hair and giddy friction. Regulus smoothly, considering the track record of tonight, slips out of his pajama bottoms and throws them, again, somewhere James doesn’t see. (Regulus is sitting on him, you simply cannot ask him to have a high-functioning brain.) “I’m going to take off your pants, James.” And really, before James can even think of what that must mean, he’s starkers in his lifetime-crush’s bed. 

“I’m naked.” (He – he’s hard and wanting against Regulus, where he’s a warm, wet pulse.)

“How astute, pretty boy.” And James should not preen, but he does. Regulus, who James is now sure is some kind of demon sent here to seduce him, starts pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down his body. It really takes much much too long for him to realize what that means. Regulus looks up at him, his face right there , and waits. Waits for James to either encourage him or tell him no, you know what, not tonight . For him to do anything, maybe, because he’s kind of just laying here like a dead fish. James moves his right hand to tuck hair behind Regulus’s ear, before gathering a handful at the base of his neck. 

Regulus smiles, and without breaking eye contact, licks him from base to tip. James has to muffle his groan against the back of his hand. Dear fucking god. Regulus looks at him, for just a moment, and it’s hungry. He wraps his left hand around his base, and gradually takes the rest of James into his mouth. (James isn’t really anything to write home about, he’s, y’know, average maybe? A little more? Regardless, he thanks every god that Regulus Black doesn’t have the gag reflex that James himself has been cursed with.) 

James knows that Regulus has never done this before, not because he’s bad, but because (beyond them having had discussions about it to some degree) he’s tentative and curious. James can feel him learning around him, taking cues from James’s body, the way he’s breathing, the sounds he’s making against his hand. He has his left leg over Regulus’s shoulder and the other lazily around his waist. Absent-mindedly, Regulus is using his right hand to stroke James’s abdomen, his thigh, his hip. 

(And James is just singing his praises, he has no idea what he’s saying but he thinks it’s been somewhere along the lines of: love, love, good, so good, reg-baby, ah, yes, please, fuck –fuck!) 

He pops off for a moment, looks at James, then says, “you can fuck into my mouth, you know.” And no, James did not know. He hadn’t even realized he’d been making sure he did exactly not that , but he had been. And Regulus says it all fucking casually, like he didn’t just invite James to fuck into his mouth . James’s jaw drops, but Regulus just goes right back to it, using his hand to make James tighten his hold on his hair. 

James doesn’t want to hurt him, but Regulus knows his limits better than James. He wouldn’t have asked him to do it, or told him he could, if he didn’t want it himself. So, exploratorily, he thrusts up into his mouth a bit. Regulus meets him with enthusiasm. He does it again, just a little harder, and Regulus moans around his mouth. Which, holy fuck is that a discovery. 

And, really, it's only been a short time. He knows it's been a depressingly short amount of time, and he doesn’t want it to be over, but it's building in his gut. He’s clutching, and desperate, thrusting and close . He tugs at Regulus’s hair, which earns him an appreciative hum, and god does that feel amazing, but he has manners. 

“Regulus, baby, I think it’s in your best interest to stop.” Regulus meets his eyes – his  having watered over a bit and left tear tracks on his cheeks – hallows his cheeks, and sucks . James is shaking with it, and maybe this is the devotion he’s been banging on about. Regulus swirls his tongue, going over the head and then back down again, and James can’t hold on anymore. His eyes roll back in his head and he tightens his legs around Regulus. He distantly feels terrible about coming down his throat , but Regulus is licking him through it, humming and stroking his side. (He chokes a bit, but James thinks he’s into it?) 

Regulus pulls off, and kisses at the skin there, at his inner thigh, his pelvis, his hip, his lower stomach. James weakly grabs at him, wanting to kiss his mouth thank you very much, and Regulus gets the message. He sprinkles him in kisses, eyes sparkling. “You’re amazing.”

“Me? I – what – me?” James splutters, looking at this phenomenal man in front of him. He just went from desperately kissing him to sucking him off and telling him to fuck into his mouth like it was a regular Saturday night for him, which it most certainly is not. 

“Yeah,” Regulus breathes, grinning. His voice is properly fucked raw, and James cannot believe he did that. He cannot believe he’s responsible for the way Regulus looks and sounds. Christ alive. 

“Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” 

“I read a lot,” Regulus shrugs, as if he didn’t just ask James to fuck into his mouth. (He’s not over it. It’s the hottest thing to ever happen to him.) Then, he remembers. 

“Oh, shit, let me take care of you. I have magic hands baby.” (He’s still nervous.)

Regulus looks down at the bed and folds his hands, clearing his throat roughly, “I’m afraid, if I am being completely transparent with you right now.” He sounds nervous, and James understands – they’re in different positions. James has never felt that same disconnect or, really, disgust toward his body. Regulus has had panic attacks on James’s bathroom floor about the urge to claw his skin off because really, really, it isn’t right. (And he’s made so much fucking progress. He sees himself in a new way, he’s grown to be more comfortable with who he was born as, and James is so fucking proud of him. Every day.)

“I never have to touch you Regulus. Nothing you’re not comfortable with.”

  “I think…I want you to touch me. I…I think having time to think about it…I’ve kind of psyched myself out. But I’m also incredibly turned on right now.” Regulus stuffs his face into his hands.

“Regulus. I'm serious, I love you. And if you’re not ready for that, fuck, I will never fault you for that. It’s taken so much fucking vulnerability and bravery for you to do what we’ve already done and I don’t expect anything, ever. I’d love to touch you, but I will never, ever force you into it, or make you feel bad for not wanting to. Or wanting to but being apprehensive.” James smooths his hand down Regulus’s back. “I can leave and you can take care of yourself?”

Regulus takes his face out of his hands and looks at him with something so profound and awe-struck that it wedges into and flips out his ribcage. He takes a fortifying breath and uses a discarded item of clothing to clean James’s stomach before straddling him again. “I want this.”

“What do you need, baby?” Regulus squirms a bit and James grins. “Oh you like that, don’t you?” Regulus meets his eyes defiantly, but he flushes deeper at the words. James tucks this all away for a very very hopeful future. 

“I heard something about magic hands?” Regulus flashes him a filthy, teasing grin while he strips himself of his own boxers. (He’s all creamy thighs and dusty pink stretch marks and dark rough hair and James is salivating.) 

“God, yeah, magic tongue too if it means I get to have you in my mouth.” That was disgusting, did he just say that out loud? That…good lord. Regulus is a good sport, even if he laughs at him a bit. 

Regulus re-settles over him, James steading him with one hand on his hip. “Next time, maybe, if you’re good.” James thinks his eyes must glaze over with the idea of Regulus on his tongue, his own spit-slick mouth and busy fingers, and Regulus keening above him. Fucking Christ. 

“How’re we doing this, love?” James has always had the urge to make sure Regulus has everything he needs. To take care of him and love him and show him that he’s worth every bit of effort. This is an extension of that urge, this ocean-depths need to give him exactly what his body craves. 

Regulus pretends to think about it, but it’s clear by the determined set of his chin that he knows exactly what he wants, and is simply trying to spare his dignity by not seeming too eager. “I’ll ride your fingers,” he says decisively. And James is convinced that he stopped breathing the second he and Regulus kissed and never started again. He doesn't think he’ll ever breathe again, and he’s more than alright with that. He looks at Regulus, his face flushed and mouth used, hair a mild disaster from being pulled, and has an idea. Last night comes trickling back into his brain. 

He takes his thumb and traces Regulus’s bottom lip softly, before pressing down and in lightly, a silent command that Regulus picks up and obeys almost immediately. He’s just testing the waters, and is in awe of this boy, so he doesn’t push or prod, just leaves it sitting on Regulus’s tongue, a weight, and a reminder. Regulus quickly grows impatient and licks at the pad of his finger, sucking a little before biting down softly, like a kiss. There it is. James smiles and takes his hand back, using the other to keep Regulus’s mouth open. He takes the middle and ring finger of his right hand and gently pushes back into Regulus’s mouth. Regulus, seemingly without realizing it, settles onto James seeking pressure while he slicks up his fingers. 

“Okay, baby,” James concedes, removing his fingers and urging Regulus’s hips up. Regulus sets himself back up on his knees, hands on James’s shoulders for balance. He digs his fingers in as James moves down and traces him softly, wider and then moving in, finding that small pebble of nerves that makes Regulus’s eyes flutter shut and breath come ragged. He moves lower slowly in pressured circular motions, traces his hole a few times, wet and warm and wanting. 

“Get on with it James,” Regulus grits out, trying to push down onto James’s fingers. James wants to laugh but it doesn’t feel funny, like wearing a suit too big and shoes too shiny and hiding snickers behind hands in a pew. Regulus has a splotchy flush all up his chest, and he’s gorgeous. 

He’s hell-raising, an anarchist’s revolutionary wet dream, a devout holy statue stripped, a prophet and a pomegranate and wine lips. 

James, in an act of prayer, pushes a finger into the God panting above him. “More.”

“Yeah, yeah –right.” And he’s doing more . Another joins and he’s losing his mind about just having his fingers in the suckling kiss of Regulus, he can’t imagine how he’ll handle having any more of himself there. James moves his wrist so he can go in deeper and crooks his fingers toward himself and Regulus throws his head back, leaving crescent moons on his shoulders and a drop of sweat on his own neck. James stumbles into a rhythm and Regulus starts moving then, pushing until he’s properly fucking James’s fingers. 

“I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t even tipsy,” Regulus says suddenly. James stares at him, utterly confused. They hadn’t had anything to drink the whole weekend. They’d discussed it and decided against it, no one wanting to drive home or spend any time together while nursing hangovers. More importantly, it was such an odd thing to say with two fingers inside him and a panting boy below him. And then it hits him in a very foggy way, a snapshot of a conversation they’d had ages ago. Regulus confiding in him. Regulus telling him he’d been drinking. Distancing himself from his actions by pleading the drunk. James stinging the rest of the week over it. He loves Regulus, and even if it wasn’t true, it always made him feel like he wasn’t enough. Regulus’s inability to talk to him about serious things unless he was in some altered state or seconds away from crashing in on himself like a dying star. It wasn’t fair for James to make it about himself like that, because he did understand, but it didn’t stop him from feeling ill over it. 

“What? Why would you lie about that?” Why did you wait to tell me until I was knuckle deep in you? 

“I…I freaked out. Panicked. Ran. I’m sorry.” He looks down at him, brow furrowed and apologetic and James isn’t mad. If anything, he feels better knowing Regulus has the capacity to be that open with him while fully sober, even if he gets scared after. He doesn't love that he lied but he’d be a hypocrite if he said he didn’t play it safe sometimes, too. 

“Your timing is terrible Regulus,” James laughs giddily at this stupid beautiful man and kisses his chest and his stomach and shakes his head. He slides his focus back to the matter at hand without giving Regulus room to speak again, room to feel guilty and unkind towards himself for a fear that had been cut into him. He crooks his fingers, Regulus’s sigh turns into a whimper. 

He looks at him, moving on top of him, head lolling lazily, eyes half-lidded, and smiles something sinful and made of pleasure. He cups James’s face and neck for a moment before leaning forward and planting his hands on the wall. He rocks his hips harder, rougher, and James is breathless as he uses his thumb to find that sweet bundle of nerves, fingers moving all the while. Regulus gasps sharply and squeezes his thighs, “fucking – harder James, oh my god. ” If he hadn’t forgiven him before he knew there was something to forgive him for, it would have been granted between one sharp inhale and the next. 

James does as he’s told, faintly worried about hurting Regulus in the process, until the boy in question grinds down helplessly and bites off a noise of sheer ecstasy. Following another urge, James tangles his left hand in Regulus’s hair and tugs and then he’s slack-jawed and snapping his hips furiously. James changes the positioning of his wrist and then Regulus is making these small little huffs and or sobs and he’s leaning down to bite James’s shoulders as he fucks him through his orgasm. 

James slows but Regulus grabs his wrist and shakes his head. “Don’t – don’t stop,” he whispers into his neck. He doesn’t, and…holy fuck. He had no fucking idea that bodies were even capable of hitting the edge and going over it so many times but Regulus teaches him many, many things as he keeps going and keeps going and keeps going. After who the fuck knows how long, James sure as hell doesn’t, he’s not even in this dimension anymore. After a period of time filled with wet plush skin and gasps and a very tired wrist, Regulus’s pace fades but doesn’t stop. He’s spent and wrecked but he keeps with this gentle rhythm of minuscule thrusts and cracks an eye to look at James. 

“I don’t ever want to stop.”

“I’m convinced you’d never have to.”

Regulus grins. “No, I’m going to feel this terribly tomorrow. And I’m sensitive, but it’s still nice. Being full. It's – you’re –” Regulus had moved slightly and picks up again for a moment, getting breathy and far away. 

“God, you’re amazing. It just doesn’t stop.”

 ★ 

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Regulus, who was starting to get up, freezes and looks at James suspiciously. (Like maybe the passionate kissing and bumbling praise, and mouthfucking and finger-riding was some joke.) “I’m not asking you to join a heist with me, Reg, don’t look at me like that.”

“I’d join a heist with you.” Regulus seems offended at the assumption that he might not want to be a criminal.

“Okay, that’s great, but will you be my boyfriend?”

“James, you’ve had me since I was five.”

“God, I wish someone had told me that. It would’ve made my teenage years a lot less confusing.”

“Quite.” 

 ★

Regulus is typing on his computer with James’s head on his hip. He’s absentmindedly playing with his curls whenever he stops typing. Like it's soothing. It's real fucking domestic, and James adores it so much his chest aches. James is drifting, between his chronic pain, the exhaustion of a long day, and the added addition of Regulus sucking out his soul, he’s sure it’ll be another five minutes at most. Still, he asks, “what are you working on?”

His eyes sparkle when he tells James, “space cowboy.” 

“Tell me about him?” 

“Like…read to you? Or just…talk about him?”

“Either. I’m almost out, I just want to hear your voice.” 

“Oh.” (It’s a very small oh.) “Okay.” He cleares his throat and scrolles up on the document. “ “See, af’er a while, I didn’t give a damn if I got ter swallow an actual star or not, because I had this boy right? An’ back then, and still a lot now I know, that wasn’ alright. You got your lights punched outta ya for that kind of thing, ‘specially round my parts. The pastors didn’t marry ya, the kids didn’t play with ya, your mamma didn’t know. No one knew, if you wanted to stay alive, ya see. You kept one hand on your bible and the other on your sin.” He grinned this devilish thing, and for just a moment he flickered back to that seventeen-year-old boy. Wild-eyed and reckless in his love. 

“My boy didn’ care about that stuff, he didn’t much believe in any god that didn’t believe in us. Said we weren’t wrong for wantin’ to love the same as everyone else, said it wasn’t fair – he was right of course, but I wasn’t much a risk taker. I had him, and that was well enough for me. Did I ever tell you his name? No, probably not – I always…” ” 

James falls into sleep, but it’s not dreamless. It’s not so much a dream as a memory reviewed, made foggy by a dream’s lens. He’s watching it like a movie, from the sidelines. It’s Regulus and him, younger, fourteen and fifteen, maybe a little younger or older. They’re laying on their backs on his bedroom floor. Feet to head, for some reason. They were just starting to get careful around each other, things were getting confusing, he didn’t understand why yet. He thinks Regulus, painfully, did. They were both sad that day, for seemingly no reason apart from it just being a bad day. James was still chasing Lily, at that point, and they’d gotten into a row. James, at the time, hadn’t been exactly sure what was wrong with Regulus, only that it had to do with church and his parents. 

“Do you believe in God?” Regulus had asked, with a small broken voice that James hated. He was unbearably familiar with it, and had always wished he’d never heard it. 

James had shrugged, “not particularly. I don’t know, my parents do, but it just never…clicked for me…” 

“I wish it had never clicked for me.”

“Why?”

He had been quiet for a long time. James would become very familiar with silence, with waiting. He supposes Regulus would too. 

“It would be better than this…feeling like I’ll never be clean again. Like, maybe, he makes everyone carefully and specifically, but he couldn’t be bothered to make me good enough to be loved by him.” Regulus sounded wretched and James hadn’t wanted him to be alone. Not in this, or anything really. He’d figured it was just what best friends felt, but they hadn’t been best friends, just cursed to orbit each other. 

“I know a bit about not feeling like enough.” Because James was just starting to understand that ache in his chest. Because they could be miserable together. 

“What’s your wisdom?” 

“In general? I…haven’t figured it out yet. I assume it’s some tosh about finding self-worth within myself and not at the validation of others, or that’s what my mom says. But about your thing? I think any god that doesn’t love you has about as much power and credibility as the Tooth Fairy and Father Christmas. Anyone you’re not “good enough” for is so deeply unfortunate. You’re a star, a lionheart, Reg. You’re as good as it gets.” Missing out on you is like watching all the stars go out. How do you keep going when all that ineffable wonder is gone? 

Regulus had stayed quiet for so long that James had assumed he wouldn’t answer him at all. Maybe James had said too much and made him uncomfortable. And then Regulus propped himself up on his elbows and squinted at James a bit, cocking his head and giving him this funny little smile. James mirrored him. 

“It’s funny, I think, because considering everything – it can be rather hard to keep my faith. But, for obvious reasons, it’s not easy to forget it. It’s like why am I being treated like this? What did I do to deserve this? What God would be okay with this? And the answer is what I’m supposed to be believing in. I deserve it because I didn’t do enough, or be enough, or prove it enough. And in all that complicated jumbled mess, you guys make sense. On days when there is no god, I do not feel completely faithless, not with – with…you.”

“Well that’s what it is, isn’t it? Faith is just that warm little feeling of hope in your chest, it doesn’t have to be for a God, or for the God they’re telling you to believe in. It can be the things in your life that help you go on.” 

“Maybe you’re smarter than Evans gives you credit for, Potter.”

James flopped back down and covered his face with his hands, groaning. “Ugh, don’t remind me! She hates me, she really really does. And she’s so beautiful while doing it, there’s just no fairness in it.” Regulus had hummed, James had taken it as an agreement. And, he supposes, it had been, but not in the way he had thought it was. 

He comes out of his dream slowly, Regulus shifts slightly and jostles his head against his hip. He’s still reading. James, in his sleep-addled state mumbles, “I think you’re my faith.” He registers that Regulus stops reading, but he’s asleep again before he hears a response. 

He wakes again sometime later to Regulus typing, somehow the lights are all off, and everything is washed in the bluish glow of the Moon and Regulus’s computer. Regulus moves one hand to bury it in his curls, and hums what is possibly a Belle and Sebastian song. James is pulled back under again.

The next time he wakes, the computer is gone and he’s been pulled to Regulus’s chest. He nuzzles into his warmth there, and more securely wraps his arms around his waist. He presses a sleep-warm kiss into his collarbone, and drifts. 

 ★

When James wakes fully the sunlight streaming in is soft and dappled, and he’s wrapped in Regulus (Regulus is wrapped in him). It isn’t the first time James has woken up in Regulus’s arms. They’ve been friends, more or less, for most of his life. They’ve had sleepovers before, they’ve shared beds and pallets on the floor and sleeping bags before. He can remember countless mornings waking up to Sirius’s hair in his mouth and Regulus’s cold nose shoved against his neck, between his shoulder blades, against his bicep. (They were so attached to each other before they met the others, and really he supposes it didn't change all that much, but it most certainly hadn’t stayed the same. Regulus and Sirius had been drowning, and James and his parents had been their only liferaft for so long. And he could feel it then, he didn’t fully understand it at the time, but they clutched him so desperately in their sleep. It gave him the most devastating feeling in his chest, but he wouldn’t have been able to scratch out an explanation.) 

Okay – well – saying he’s ‘in Regulus’s arms’ is a bit of an exaggeration. He’s pulled Regulus on top of him, sometime during the night, like a blanket. His face is buried in his neck, and some of his hair is in his nose. Regulus would kill him if he sneezed into his hair. He supposes a more accurate statement is that Regulus is in his arms, but it doesn’t really matter, he’s fucking content either way. The loveliest watercolor boy he's ever known loves him, (!?!?!??!?!??!!!!!!!!!!) , and everything else is background noise.

Except – maybe – the tinge in his knee. And the sound of Remus very obviously trying to be quiet in the kitchen and failing. (How are they up before him?) But mostly his world is narrowed down to Regulus’s soft snores/huffs/puffs of breath. The way they feel against his shoulder. The way their chests are moving together. James loves him, so he wraps his arms a little tighter and kisses his shoulder. 

Examining it all a little closer, he is kind of freaking out. Actually. ( Oh, the blissful ignorance of being barely conscious! How fleeting you are!) Not out of regret or a shameful panic, but an oh hey I just accidentally told the love of my life that I wanted to kiss him and he told me to and I did and then he told me he loved me and then he sucked my dick like a fucking pro and I yanked his hair a bit which I actually kind of feel bad for but he moaned so maybe I shouldn't but anyway that's not the point the point is we’ve been being careful since we were teenagers and then on impulse or more maybe a crescendo, maybe a slow build that finally broke, we slashed everything platonic between us to bits and oh my god we’re boyfriends. I asked him to be my boyfriend. Oh. OH. 

You know, that kind of thing. 

Regulus makes this little whimper in his sleep, and burrows further into James, seeking him out. James gives him a squeeze and, after a tense moment, it seems to soothe him a little. Another nightmare, love? He has the most horrid dreams. James has gathered, apart from what Regulus has told him straight on, from the stories that he writes. Some of it is just…it's visceral and real in ways that James knows means it comes from his life and his dreams. He tends to plague his protagonists with nightmares and stress dreams, which is almost entirely projecting on his part. All his broken-boned, emotionally cut-up anti-heroes have pieces of Regulus, some are obvious, but others are intricate. You have to work for it, to understand what he was really trying to say with that line, or that trait, or that nightmare. James likes when he figures it out. (Regulus hates when people read his stuff and just say “it was good” he wants people to tear it apart with their teeth, dig their nails into the rotting flesh of it and grab greedy handfuls. James tries his best to give Regulus good feedback, engage and analyze and form as many comments as possible, even the stupid little thoughts he has. Regulus prefers that, stupid little comments, compared to bland indifferent praise.) 

James doesn’t know what time it is – later than he usually sleeps in – and Regulus will probably still be out for hours yet. He has to pee terribly, but Regulus is so sweet and clutching like this, James doesn’t have the heart to risk waking him up yet. Maybe if he rolls over, or when James is properly about to piss himself, then he’ll go. (They have to leave soon, they have to get back, James has a Monday class and assignments due. He has plants, and a life. He has work. He can’t drop everything for a boy who gets a flush worth dying for when he’s sleep-soft.) (Except he wants to, and he’s trying to convince himself but it’s going terribly.) 

They’ll still have this, right? Regulus won’t wake up and decide it was all a mistake? That he regrets sleeping with his brother's best friend? That he was sleep-deprived and lust-driven when he accepted the mad offer to be partners? (James really doesn’t think any of that will happen, but he is damn worried about him running off. Convincing himself that this is a bad idea, that James is a bad idea, and that he doesn't have the courage to brave it. Regulus is a runner, it’s almost an heirloom really, but he’s been running since he was born. For his life, to survive, it's self-preservation. It’s a baseline instinct to him, get up, get out, don’t breathe. He wasn’t born into a life where happiness and love were a given, they are things he has had to fight tooth and nail for, and James is almost sure he isn’t aware that he’s actually allowed to have it. Regulus Black runs, he always has. But James Potter is a chaser, he was raised to have a will like no other and catching hands. 

James Potter is a world-class worrier, a desperate-to-be-needed overachiever, the sturdiest friend you could ever dream of, and he’s bloody fantastic at keeping up with slippery Blacks. 

James thinks maybe – hopefully, it’s not much more of the moon-and-the-sun game they’ve had going for so long. So far ahead, behind, always moving, always running and chasing, and never at peace.

Never whole. 

 ★

James shifts a long time later, his left leg is bent at a weird angle and it aches, and jostles Regulus’s head a bit too much. He wakes up before he opens his eyes, James can tell by the change of his breath, the little noise he lets out, and the flutter of eyelashes against his neck when he does open his eyes. He picks his head up after a moment, and they’re nearly nose to nose. He just kind of…blinks at James sleepily for a bit, and this close his eyes are enormous, they never end –it’s only now and them forever. 

James grins, because Regulus is adorable. And he’s endeared. And he’s so very hopeful. 

“Don’t make fun of me.” (His voice is raspy!) 

“I’m not, love, you’ve just got these droopy puppy dog eyes.” James is laughing a bit, which isn’t helping his case, but he’s overwhelmingly endeared right now. Regulus huffs and goes back into hiding. They’re quiet for a time then, their breathing and breathing and breathing. “You’re not going to run, are you?”

Regulus presses his face harder into James’s neck. “I want to. Generally. And I’m…beyond terrified James. But you’re someone worth betting on, and truthfully, I’m not sure how far I’d get.” A whispered confession, a rib, a tooth, honesty and vulnerability, and Regulus being brave despite fancying himself a coward. A hymn against his skin. 

 ★

  Peter stares at James with wide eyes as he makes tea. (Seems they know, then.) (Fuck fuck fuck.) Sirius walks in, dramatically says, “I cannot even believe I have to sit in a car with you today,” and walks out. Remus sits at the table, smirking and shaking his head. (Enabler.) 

Regulus walks out sometime later, completely mussed like it's a prize, and steals James’s lukewarm tea even though it's not how he takes it. (Honestly, the Black siblings would be the death of him.) It went like this:

Sirius: You’re going to hell. 

Regulus: God, I hope so. 

Sirius: Could you not wait until you were alone?

Regulus: It’s my apartment, you could have left.

Sirius: And go where?

Regulus: It’s a city. 

Sirius: I can’t believe you defiled James.

Regulus: It’s sad to see such a small suspension of disbelief in one so young.

Chapter Text

crumbs in a couch cushion 

hey boyfriend 😳❤️

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I sincerely hope you die. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

that’s no way to talk to your boyfriend now is it? 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I actually was just thinking about you, but the funny thing about you is the second you speak I’m repelled. It’s fucking magic. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

AWE 

you think i’m magic?!?!?!

that’s so fucking cute

💖😭😚❤️😝✨🥰

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I’ve been influenced. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

did you do drugs 

did you get smashed 

did you makeout with your brothers best friend 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

1. Bought a mint plant. You heathen. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

who made you do that?

was it remus?

remus WOULD

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

The Raven Cycle. I, unfortunately, have the most overwhelming soft spot for Gansey. Some might say I even have a type. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

it’s so embarrassing how in love w/ me u r 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Stop texting me if your fingers hurt. 

[Outgoing Call] 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

what are you reading right now?

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

A Dowry of Blood. 

Why? 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

because i’m in love with you and want to hear every single thought you’ve ever thunk???????? 

is it any good?

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You absolutely do not. 

Also, yes. It’s rather phenomenal. Possibly a clean five stars. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

regulus baby let me crawl into your cushy brain

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

God no. 

That would be awful, Potter. 

You’d turn tail and I’d be out a boyfriend in a blink. 

crumbs in a couch cushion

nah 

you’re insane 

but like

in a sexy way

like a young victor frankenstein being all queer and obsessed 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You are extremely weird. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i just want to live inside your funky little brain you demented vampire 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You know I’m not actually Basilton Pitch, right?

crumbs in a couch cushion

shhhhhh

let me live in my delusions baby

just sit there and judge me while looking hot as fuck 

you’re so good at it

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

This is by far the weirdest foreplay I’ve ever been a part of. 

Should I worry about this? Are you going to bring me a floral shirt and expensive jeans the next time you visit? 

crumbs in a couch cushion

you are a GENIUS OH MY FUCK

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

James, no. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

James YES

it’s literally too late

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

James Potter.

crumbs in a couch cushion 

listen, i’ll fuck your face properly and tug you around by your hair a bit

dig my nails in real hard

bite you and leave marks 

everyones happy

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You are not allowed to sext me while I’m in class, James. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i had to play dirty 

and for that, i am sorry

but have i won you over?

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You’re so fucking weird.

I’ll consider it, you fucking nightmare. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

already in character for me

good boy 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I’m putting you on Do Not Disturb. 

I’m going to break all of your fingers one by one. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

marry me

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i just remembered that you listen to car seat headrest and i just don’t feel like i can support that kind of behavior 

it’s either pretty boy toledo or me 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Give up half of your midwest emo and any artist from the 70s-90s. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

fair play. 

i’ll just go back to forgetting until i’m reminded 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Love, that is literally how you live your regular life.

blur cover band

Distressed Jeans 

AHHAHAHAHH

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

MAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAha

crumbs in a couch cushion 

“love” 

that was so human of you

like soft mushy inside human 

i knew you had it in you

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Don’t slander my good name. 

blur cover band 

peter pan (hide the tights) 

What’s wrong? 

rheumatoid arthritis 

any amount of money on it being regulus’s fault 

siriusly fucking stupid (NEITHER? IT’S A WEIRD DAY.) 

GET YOURSELF TOGETHER MAN 

Distressed Jeans 

im cool. im cool. im totally super cool and fine. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i don’t think it’s slander if it’s true…? 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Coming from the man who regularly calls me a vampire. 

I’m whatever the circumstance calls for, apparently. 

blur cover band 

rheumatoid arthritis 

you’re just not going to give us context?

Distressed Jeans 

you know enough 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

there is no concise narrative 

with me, you’re living all of your alternate timelines and parallel universes at once 

you’re both a trans gay man going to uni for english lit and queer studies, AND an almost-evil wizard from the 70s

what a rich life! 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Are we together in all these universes? 

crumbs in a couch cushion

like duh

we do our best at least 

the world, however, is unpredictable 

but i’m pretty sure we’re soulmates and that stretches beyond just our current lives

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I love you. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i love you too? 

what was that for? 

are you dying?

am i dying???

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

No. 

What? 

No.  

I just wanted to say it and you hear it. 

No one's life hangs in the balance. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

well that was nice

thank you

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You truly do not have to thank me for being in love with you. 

It's an illness. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i was thanking you for saying it

it's a nice reminder you dickweed 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Even though I think it’s weird for you to thank me, you’re welcome. 

I genuinely couldn’t see it being any other way. 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

[This Is What We Look Like - Personal Best]

For the versions of us (like the 70s wizards) who can’t be who they want to be when the door is open. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

will you judge me if i sit here and sob over these theoretical possibilities? 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Yes. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

good, you wouldn’t be you if you said no

anyway, for the versions of us who are suffering for love 

[I Still Believe In You - Flyte]

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

I have a secret to tell you. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

this is the single most ominous thing you could’ve sent me

yet, im giddy 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Sad space cowboy is a poet. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

a poet!

oh sad gay space poem for his beloved

when do we get that? 

i need it or i’ll die

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You’ll see it you fiend. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i’d better

or yknow 

death 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i finished a dowry of blood

 Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

…You were reading it?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

yes, surprise, yadda yadda 

IT’S SO GOOD WHAT THE FUCK 

i want to put dracula under a microscope and dissect him he is so fucked up 

i’m calling you and we’re talking about it, i have notes

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Who are you?

crumbs in a couch cushion 

you’ve influenced me

what can i say

pretty men with brooding eyes 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Great, now I'm in a poorly written straight erotica. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i can’t hear you over your phone ringing

[Outgoing Call] 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

what are you thinking about right this moment?

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

A poem. 

What are you thinking about…? 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

you, always

tell me about the poem 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

https://boykeats.tumblr.com/post/131924212262/fallen-angel-by-keaton-st-james

He does a lot of stuff about being trans and queer and religion. 

Also rural stuff that I would be remiss not to credit as inspiration for my current WIP. 

The last line, “the mythologies will not write of you, except to say that you are missing.”

You don’t have to read it though. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

shut up i’m reading it

YO

holy shit 

that was really good 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I’m not sure why I go back to it as much as I do, honestly. 

But it is rather good. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

do you perhaps see yourself as the angel? 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Oh. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

not sure what kind of oh that is

but if this is a revelation you have preferred unreveled i’m sorry

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Not a bad or good oh, simply…an oh. Italicized if you will. 

I think I sort of…revered the subject of the poem a little, for everything, so it’s off-putting to think I was silently admiring myself. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

trauma is tricky, but sometimes it’s as simple as realizing you’ve been doing your best 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Alright, alright, it’s not a big deal. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

it’s not a bad thing

to see yourself in something good 

you are good, so

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

James Potter, always earnest 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

your tendency to deflect would be cute if it wasn’t so frustrating

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I love you, shut up. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

yeah, alright

and i love you

even if i want to force feed you praise until you start swallowing it greedily instead of choking on it 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Have you ever considered writing? 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i have very little interest outside of academic essays 

thank you though

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)

Thank you for your patience.

crumbs in a couch cushion 

it’s not hard

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)  

[Surrender Your Clothing - Pansy Division] 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

wow for an asexual you’re really horny 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

That’s actually really fucking offensive, James. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i’m sorry 

i however think you’re being ingenuine 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

I entirely am. 

But, I mean, yeah. You really don’t know the half of it. 

You’re sort of an extremely isolated case, but that’ll go right to your head. 

And I wasn’t sending you that as a pass, I was just listening to it. 

But sure, come over.

crumbs in a couch cushion 

omw! 

running at full speed 

towards you 

also me being your sexual awakening

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

That was Remus.
That’s on me. 

You’re almost a completely isolated case. 

But I don’t entirely count Remus considering it happened when I didn’t understand it very well.

And then events occurred and I understood it too well. 

Dread, my old companion. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

dramatic fuck

but also fair enough

idk how everyone isn’t a little in love with him

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

If we don’t work out he’s leaving Sirius and we’re running away to the Scottish Highlands

crumbs in a couch cushion 

literally what the actual fuck

goddamn 

i guess i have to try harder fuck me man 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

You’re perfectly adequate. 

It’s not like I’ve been in love with you since I started losing baby teeth or anything. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

fair enough good fellow

crumbs in a couch cushion 

i just had the weirdest fucking dream 

it was you and me in a cottage but ??? 

we were animal crossing cartoons??? 

and we were IN animal crossing

and other characters stopped by to talk to us…

and then we were literally running for our lives in the zombie apocalypse

like the last of us

but we were still cartoons 

and it didn’t follow tlou’s strylone 

It followed the storyline of a zombie story you’ve written 

i’m pretty sure it ended with us in a castle with floating candles but i just can not be sure

there was a lot going on 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy)  

It amazes me how in love with you I am when you say shit like that on a regular basis. 

crumbs in a couch cushion 

you’re fucking obsessed with me shut up

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Your delusions know no bounds. 

Sunshine's Antithesis (emo boy) 

Oh, I’ve been working on the story some more. Here’s the poem by the way.

[(Moving) Neon Pictures: scribbled on an old college-ruled notebook] 

 ★

(Moving) Neon Pictures 

I keep my room messy, my mind, like maybe it’ll scatter the thoughts of you into cluttered corners and tea-stained mugs.

I sleep in the middle of the bed, to the left –on your side, in defiance. 

A refusal, a denial. 

Every poem and book spine I crack makes me think of you. 

I project neon pictures of us onto every blank wall.

I go about my day, straight-faced, unflinching, like I'm not a wide-open ache, 

a bloody and worn half. 

I always get confused, I forget that being quiet about it won’t make me love you less. Ignoring my own choking doesn’t open up an airway. I keep loving you – suffocating – missing you. 

My hands don’t know how to stop being restless when you’re not here, they move, and they’re tired. Deep bone tired. 

 –I will wait for you to come home, and I will rest. 

fin