Chapter Text
R E G U L U S
As they tramped through the woods, taking the route that Peter had marked out for them on the map to locate the supply depot (which would take a few hours for them to reach), Regulus was forced to realise one simple thing: He found competency hot, and James Potter was incredibly competent.
Frustratingly, James was adamantly avoiding looking at Regulus and they walked in silence. This meant that Regulus couldn’t get an accurate read on what James was thinking. And he wanted to know what James was thinking more than anything. Regulus wanted to crack open his skull and work out what made the older boy tick.
There was one particular question that Regulus was quite keen to get an answer to. He had never been a person to beat around the bush, so, as usual, he went for the direct approach.
“Why did you let me stay in that meeting?” Regulus asked. He had thought for just a moment that James was going to kick him out of the tent, but the older boy had just looked at him, a tangled mess of emotions and said that Regulus could stay. Reglus hadn’t minded; he wanted to stay. Plus, it gave him the chance to watch James in all of his competent glory.
James looked over at him again now, and suddenly stopped walking the moment that their eyes met. A muscle in James’ jaw twitched as they stared at each other.
“I don’t know,” James admitted after what could have been a few seconds or a few hundred years. “It felt right for you to be there.”
Regulus found that he quite liked that answer.
“Why did you agree to me coming with you now?” Regulus asked.
“Why did you offer?” James countered.
“I asked first.”
James clicked his tongue and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth for a second before releasing it again. Regulus was obsessed with this. James’ lips were full and pink, and now the bottom one glistened with saliva. Regulus wanted to run his thumb along it.
“I trust you, I think,” James said.
Regulus snorted. “You think?”
James nodded. “I’m not sure what I think of you.”
Regulus liked that answer, too.
“How can you not be sure what you think of me?” He asked, still gazing intently into James’ eyes, watching for any flicker of any emotion.
James blinked and looked away from Regulus. As if he had regained his senses, James started walking again.
“My head’s a bit of a mess at the moment,” James admitted as Regulus fell back into stride beside him. “Lots going on.”
“Yeah,” Regulus agreed. “Lots going on.”
They fell silent for a while, taking in the forest around them.
Regulus wondered if he had been taking being on the ground for granted. This was what he had dreamed of his whole life, to be surrounded by trees with a cool breeze blowing across his face. It certainly wasn’t what he had imagined. In his daydreams, the ground had been a place of complete peace. A place where his parents couldn’t reach him, and every struggle just did not exist.
That was certainly not the case. In fact, the ground seemed to have amplified everything.
“Do you think there’s such a thing as good people?” James asked, tearing Regulus from his contemplation of the trees.
Regulus was under no delusion that he was a good person. He knew he wasn’t. But it didn’t matter to him what he became so long as those he loved were alive. Sirius, Barty… and… and…
It did matter to him what James thought of him. James was good. James was the best.
“Yes,” Regulus admitted.
James nodded absentmindedly. “I’m not a good person.”
Regulus was suddenly certain that James wasn’t aware of his own… Jamesness.
Regulus wanted to tell him.
“You are,” Regulus stated. “You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”
James ground to a halt again and stared at Regulus. Regulus felt the sudden urge to press, like he was driving his thumb into a wound to see how James would react.
“I thought you didn’t care what I think, Potter?”
James’ eyes narrowed. “I don’t.”
A small, choked laugh escaped Regulus’ throat because James’ eyes and James’ words were saying opposite things. James’ eyes had lit up slightly, as if a spark had been reignited.
“I think you do,” Regulus stated.
James’ jaw ticked again as he clenched it, and his eyes narrowed even more.
“What do you think of me, James?” Regulus asked. Still pressing the wound, waiting to see if James would explode. Regulus was a destructive man and he would gladly let James Potter destroy him.
James didn’t answer for a while. The fire that had reignited in his eyes swirled, and it made Regulus want to shiver.
“What do I think of you?” James asked eventually.
Regulus nodded.
James cocked his head to the side. “I think I hate you actually.”
“Why do you hate me?” Regulus asked. “Go on, I’m all ears.”
It was as if gravity had shifted, and Regulus was being drawn towards James. He took a step closer, bringing them just a few inches apart. Regulus liked that the new closeness allowed him to better see the swirling mess of emotions in James’ eyes.
“Why do I hate you?” James repeated, he was blinking rapidly. Regulus wished that he’d stop because it was making it harder to see the older boy’s eyes. “I think it’s because you hurt people. I hate you because you don’t seem to give a shit about fucking torture or killing 300 people. You’re not even sorry, are you?”
“No,” Regulus stated. “I’ve told you before. The people we are and who we have to be to survive are very different things.”
“I hate you because you’re justifying horrible unjustifiable shit,” James continued. His words spitting like venom. Regulus’ heart was beating impossibly fast. His brain wasn’t functioning properly. James was so close. “And you keep doing it. You’re reckless, and you’re getting people killed on some insane crusade to keep Sirius alive when he’ll hate you for it. I hate you because you love my best friend all wrong. Love shouldn’t hurt Regulus.”
James was so close. All it would take for them to be touching was for Regulus to lean forward ever so slightly. Regulus remembered when he had climbed on top of James whilst he was asleep. The older boy was all unforgiving muscle. Regulus was suddenly struck by the urge to run his hands across James’ chest.
Instead, Regulus frowned. “Shouldn’t it?”
“No, it shouldn’t,” James affirmed. “I hate you because you fucking tortured a man-”
“I thought we’d established that you were there just as much as I was!”
It was slightly stupid of them to be out here shouting at each other in the woods. There could be any number of Grounders nearby who could hear them. But Regulus didn’t really care, he had James here now. He didn’t want to let him go. Regulus wanted all of James Potter. He wanted his tears and his happiness, but there was something about an angry James that Regulus just loved.
James huffed. “We have. But at least I’m sorry about it. I won’t do something that messed up again.” James jabbed a finger at Regulus’ chest, and the small bit of contact sent goosebumps down Regulus’ back. “You aren’t even sorry. You’d do it again, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I would. To save Barty,” Regulus said.
“Because you’re a spiteful, vindictive bastard,” James said. “You, Regulus Black, are pure fucking evil.”
“Oh, you flatter me, Potter.” Regulus would have rolled his eyes had he not been so intent on drinking in every second of that look in James’ eyes.
“Shut. Up.” James spat. The words did something funny to Regulus’ stomach, as if a flock of butterflies had suddenly taken flight. “I’m speaking now, and you’re going to listen to every word I-”
James never got to finish because Regulus surged forward and captured the older boy’s lips with his own.
And the world was burning.
Or Regulus was, anyway. Because he was kissing James Potter, whose lips were burning him.
And James Potter was kissing him back. James’ lips were hot and wet, moving against his own like a continuation of the argument.
James’ kiss was like the sun. Scorching Regulus from the inside out, lighting something up within him that he hadn’t known existed before that moment. Regulus’ hands were pressed flat against James’ chest, trapped between their bodies as James pushed closer to him, cupping the back of Regulus’ neck in his own hands and pressing their lips impossibly closer.
Regulus had never kissed anyone before. He had the vague, distant thought that he was ruined now. No one else could or would ever kiss like James Potter.
Regulus felt his feet move as James pushed him back until Regulus collided with a tree. He gasped when his back hit the bark, and James licked the sound from his lips, hungrily drinking it down. Then his tongue was exploring Regulus’ mouth, as if he wanted to feel every inch of it.
The kiss wasn’t soft. It was all teeth and anger, needy desire, yet still somehow the most gentle thing Regulus had ever experienced. Regulus loved it. He would take whatever James gave him and thank him for it.
Regulus’ knees felt weak by the time James finally pulled away from him. They were both breathing heavily, lips swollen from kissing. James’ eyes were slightly hazy as he looked at Regulus. Neither of their hands had moved. Regulus’ were still pressed against James’ chest, and he could feel James’ quickened heart beating beneath his hands. James’ hands remained tight on the back of Regulus’ neck, his thumb rubbing very small, smooth circles into Regulus’ hair.
And age passed before James spoke.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said. His voice sounded low and husky.
“I shouldn’t?” Regulus himself was breathless.
James gave a very small nod.
“Why?” Regulus asked. Still pressing, still determined to discover what made James Potter tick, even more so now that he had felt James’ lips on his own.
“I don’t know,” James admitted. He took a heavy breath and released Regulus’ neck, taking a step back. Regulus had the sudden urge to pull James back in. He wanted to spark an argument again so that James would kiss him senseless. He never wanted to stop kissing James Potter.
This was why Regulus wanted James alive. So that Regulus could be the person to tear him apart.
But James seemed to be regaining his senses quicker than Regulus was. He pulled his glasses off and cleaned them on the bottom of his shirt, replacing them on his face and looking everywhere that wasn’t Regulus’ face.
“We should go get the supplies,” was the last thing James said before turning and continuing on into the forest.
Regulus wasn’t a leader. He didn’t want to be. But James was, and what was Regulus to do apart from follow him?
J A M E S
James knew he was a perpetual fuck-up. But he didn’t think he could possibly have fucked up worse than kissing Regulus Black. It was stupid and sensless. Sirius was going to punch him so hard.
But James’ mind had been lost the second Regulus had surged forward to capture his lips. Nothing was going on in his mind other than a chant of this, this, this… And suddenly, James understood why he trusted Regulus Black so implicitly despite the fact that he was certain he hated the boy. Somewhere within the kiss, James came to the horrible realisation that he thought Regulus Black was beautiful. Worse still, James fancied him.
And it was a bad idea. A fucking horrible one. Regulus had weasled his way under James’ skin, and James hadn’t even noticed until it was too late for him to do anything about it. It was a terrible idea because James undeniably hated Regulus. He hated how far Regulus was able to push him, how easily the younger boy brought his simmering anger to the surface and made James feel like he lost all semblance of control over himself.
James walked quickly through the forest, not giving Regulus a proper chance to catch up but giving himself plenty of time to stew in his own thoughts. This allowed time for James to reframe every single interaction he had ever had with Regulus and realise just how obsessed with the younger boy he was.
James was furious at himself for allowing it to happen. He wasn’t allowed to fall for Regulus. Sirius and Regulus’ relationship was already complicated enough without James sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.
But the truth was undeniable. James was falling for him.
Some horrible masochistic part of himself loved how mean Regulus was, whilst he simultaneously hated it. He loved arguing with Regulus, it made his heart quicken and his blood pump. But he still hated it, hated how Regulus could so easily pull horrible words out of him. James didn’t think he had truly hated someone until he met Regulus Black.
It was a mess.
A horrible mess.
And James didn’t have time for this. He needed to be focused on keeping everyone alive until the Elder got down to the ground. He didn’t have time to be drooling over Regulus Black.
There was also the fact that Regulus was beautiful. Fucking gorgeous actually. Like a piece of artwork. His curls were wild, framing his face just right (even after being on the ground with no access to shampoo for weeks), his face was sharp and lovely, just the right amount of softness lingering. And his eyes… James could get lost in Regulus’ eyes for hours.
James knew that there was a fine line between love and hate.
He also knew he was fucked.
He had gone so far beyond hope of return and he hadn’t even realised it until Regulus had kissed him. And the worst part? He was angry about it. James hated being angry; he always had. That only made him angrier.
“James, I think we’re here,” Regulus said, snapping James out of his thoughts.
Tearing himself out of his thoughts and taking in his surroundings, James realised that Regulus was right. The younger boy had stopped beside a square outline of something in the foliage on the ground. Regulus had crouched down and was clearing the dried leaves away, slowly revealing what looked like a metal trap door.
Regulus grabbed the handle of the door once it was cleared and pulled. It didn’t budge.
“It’s stuck,” Regulus stated.
James slung his backpack off of his back and pulled out a crowbar. It was the same crowbar that Regulus had used to try and take his wristband off. James tried very hard to banish the memory of having the younger boy pinned beneath him.
Very careful to avoid touching Regulus, James moved over and positioned the crowbar on the rim of the trap door, pushing down. The horrible squeaking of rusty metal was enough for James to know it was working before the trap door finally released.
The smell of mildew was the first thing that reached James’ nose.
Doing his very best to avoid thinking about Regulus’ lips, he rummaged in his bag again, drawing out two torches and handing one to Regulus before turning his own torch on, placing it between his teeth and climbing down the ladder.
The smell only got worse once he was inside the bunker.
James cast his torch around and froze when he spotted a human skeleton slumped against the nearby wall. There were remnants of tattered clothes still hanging over the exposed bones.
“Horrible place to die,” Regulus remarked, dropping off of the last rungs of the ladder to stand beside James’ side. “Reckon that’s from the bombs? The radiation probably did them in.”
This body had lay down here in the dark and quiet for 200 years, completely undisturbed.
James swallowed thickly, casting the torch’s beam away from the skeleton and across the rest of the space.
It was damp, water coated the floor, soaking into James’ shoes. The shelter was large. A square room full of shelves, lit up only by James’ torch. There were rows upon rows of shelves. All of them were empty.
“So much for supplies,” James sighed. “They must’ve been distributed before the bombs. And we can’t really live down here.”
“There are some crates and barrels over there.” Regulus had turned on his own torch now and began making his way towards the far wall, where there were indeed some crates and barrels that looked untouched. James followed, their footsteps making horrible sloshing noises in the water beneath their feet.
They pulled open one of the crates and began sorting through the contents. Some blankets, a box of tinned beans…
“I’m sorry,” Regulus said. James looked up from the crate to find the younger Black staring at him.
The words almost made James flinch. He didn’t need Regulus to elaborate on what he was sorry for. James knew that Regulus wasn’t sorry for the things he should be sorry for. But by the strained silence that had fallen between them, he suspected that Regulus was sorry about the kiss.
“It’s fine,” James replied, tearing his eyes away from Regulus’ before he could get lost in them. He busied himself by opening a second crate and beginning to sort through the contents. Still not very useful, but the blankets and limited tinned food were something at least.
“I shouldn’t have done that without asking,” Regulus continued. “Especially if you didn’t want it.”
James didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know how he felt about this kiss. He wanted to do it again, wanted to pull Regulus close and never let go. But at the same time, he wanted Regulus as far away from him as possible.
James decided that his best route was not to reply. He wasn’t certain what would come out of his mouth if he opened it.
He could feel Regulus’ eyes not wavering from him as he continued to sort through the crates in silence. He wanted Regulus to look away. He didn’t want to be seen. He was thankful that it was so dark in the shelter because he was certain that his cheeks had flushed from the intensity of the boy’s gaze. James had a job to do, he couldn’t get distracted by Regulus Black.
“Stop looking at me,” James eventually snapped. “Help me sort through these supplies.”
“You know you don’t have to do that,” Regulus said.
Taken completely by surprise by the comment, James looked over at Regulus before he realised what he was doing, finding himself immediately drawn into those green eyes.
“Do what?” James managed.
“Push whatever it is you’re feeling down to help other people,” said Regulus.
James narrowed his eyes. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” Regulus asked innocently.
Stop seeing me , James wanted to say. Stop thinking you know me. I hate it.
But did he hate it? James didn’t know. His head was a mess, a complete, complicated mess.
“What part of I hate you didn’t you understand?” James demanded.
“You said you think you hate me,” Regulus replied. “You said your head was a mess.”
“And which part of that didn’t you understand?” James repeated.
“You didn’t kiss like you hated me,” Regulus continued.
“You kissed me!” James retorted.
“Takes two to tango, Potter,” said Regulus.
And James knew he had kissed Regulus back. He hadn’t been able to stop himself. Want and desire had overtaken him the moment that their lips collided, his head filling with static. Blissfully empty of thoughts for the first time since he had landed on the ground. All he had been able to comprehend was the feeling of Regulus’ neck under his hands and the scorch of lips pressed together and how much he wanted it.
He wanted that feeling again. No, he wanted that feeling always.
He also wanted to punch something.
Two things could be true at the same time, right?
James needed Regulus to stop messing with him immediately. Surely this was some kind of strange plan the younger Black had concocted. Any second, he’d probably stab James and say something about how it was all to protect Sirius.
“You’re infuriating, you know that?” James said.
“I’ve been told,” Regulus nodded. “I find you infuriating too, Potter.”
“Stop calling me that,” James said. The way Regulus said his surname made his skin crawl. He hated the sound of it on Regulus’ tongue more than he hated anything else about the boy.
“What do you suggest I call you then?”
“How about my name?”
“Potter is your name.”
“You know what I mean, Regulus,” James said.
Regulus nodded. The expression on his face looked as if he thought he had won something. James didn’t like it. He had never been a loser. He knew he had a horrible competitive streak, it was something his mother had always chastised him about.
Once, when he was young, his team had lost a game of football in the rec room and he had toppled over a cabinet in rage at what he thought was a set up. He had insisted (and still did) that the referee was biased. James didn’t lose. He was a winner.
He felt like toppling a cabinet again now. He wanted to wipe the victory off of Regulus’ face. James wanted to win whatever game they were playing, even though he didn’t know the rules.
“You know, if I’m a terrible enough kisser that you’re angry about it, I’d prefer if you just told me,” Regulus said, a glint of something in his eyes.
“Stop it,” James spat.
“Stop what?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing you little shit,” James replied.
“What is that?”
“Messing with me!”
Regulus’ lips quirked up into the smallest grin possible. A triumphant one. James wanted nothing more than to wipe that grin off of Regulus’ face.
“Make me,” Regulus said, eyes not wavering from James’.
It was as if someone else took over for a moment as James took a back seat to his own actions. His body moved before he could stop it, hands closing around Regulus’ neck and crashing their lips together.
James knew he had won when Regulus relaxed into the kiss, suddenly all of his hard edges smoothing away as he became soft and pliant in James’ arms. This kiss was softer than the last, somehow impossibly so, based on the fact that they had been arguing just seconds earlier, but it still left James breathless.
By the time he came to his senses, he was too lost in the kiss to care about the fact that he absolutely should not have done it. He backed Regulus up again, just like he had before, a soft sound emitting from the younger boy’s lips, somewhere between a moan and a whine.
The kiss could have gone on forever if not for the fact that James chose to back Regulus up into a barrel, which toppled over the moment that Regulus barged into it.
The barrel fell onto its side, the lid popping off and spilling out its liquid contents to the ground, quickly followed by the sounds of something heavier.
The loud bang shocked them both enough that they pulled away and looked down at what had fallen out of the barrel.
Guns.