Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This is not working out. We're not working out, James.” She says.

“Can we try to fix this? Why is it not working out?” James grabs the ginger's hands and gives them a gentle squeeze.

“I just don't feel the same. The- that love I-” Lily stares at her feet, but still caressing his hands with her thumbs. “You always have been great for me, but my feelings are not as intense as they were before.”

“We've got a son, Lily, he’s just a few months old. What's going to happen to him if we…” James sights. “I- Lily, please let me try to fix this.”

“James, I tried very hard, but the feelings just got away. And Harry… He's the reason I don't want to fight with you. I'm asking this divorce-”

“Divorce? Is this that serious?”

“I thought you had already assumed that by yourself. But, yes, divorce, James. I'm asking for this divorce but I don't want us to be fighting or hating each other because, besides all, you're my best friend, not just my husband; and I still want to be your best friend, and I want to be a good mother. I could be a good mother, but not without a good father. And you gotta help me raise him, even if we aren't married. You get that?”

Now it's James who's staring at his feet. He loved Lily for as long as he knew her, he loved her since day one, and it was just ending right in front of his eyes. His eyes met hers again. I could be a good mother, but not without a good father. “I get it, Lily. If you think it's for the better and if it makes you feel alright, I get it.” Besides all, you're my best friend, not just my husband.

“Oh, goodness. It's so good you get it.” Her arms take place around his neck, making her stand on the tip of her toes. James' arms were wrapped around her waist. She caressed the back of his neck gently.

The sound of the rain hitting the rooftop was the only sound in that moment, and James wished that he could freeze that moment and hold Lily for the rest of his life.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you.” She answers. Their hug is interrupted by the cry of the baby in the room in front of theirs. Lily let him off the hug and looked him right in the eyes for a few seconds. James is fighting against tears that can come and go straight down his cheeks any moment, and he's sure that she noticed. She turned away and left the room. Minutes later he heard the baby crying stop, and his own crying started.

Chapter Text

James comes inside the cafe from the back doors, and goes straight to the staff loo to change his clothes. He regrets drinking last night when pain grew on his forehead. Immediately, he washed his face with cold water, hoping to wake him up and get rid of the pain.

He places his glasses on his face and gets out of the loo and finds Peter approaching the door, with a raised hand, ready to knock.

“There you are. Your shift it's just starting,” Peter warns him.

“Thanks, Pete. I was just going.”

“Have you been drinking, James?”

“Why? Looks like I've been drinking?”

“As fuck,” Peter answers. James shrugs at him, rubbing his eyes. He went straight to the counter, leaving Peter behind, and Remus was there.

Probably his lunch time, it wasn't early, James just had overslept because of his drowning on alcohol last night.

“How have you been, mate?” Remus asks as he sees James, with his Welsh accent slipping.

“Trying not to go insane on a hangover. How are you?”

“Seems lovely,” Remus says sarcastically. “I’m alright. Preparing myself to work. Teaching is fucking tiring,” James washes his hands once again on the sink under the counter.

“‘Kay, spit it out, what can I get for you?”

“Just a cappuccino. With cinnamon.”

“That's three-fifty.”

“C’mon, I'm your best friend.”

“Four-fifty,” James scoffs.

“Piss of,” Remus giggles. He takes his wallet out of his pocket and hands James three-fifty pounds. He puts the money in the cash machine and starts to get his friend’s order while they chat.

Remus is a nice person to talk to; he's patient and kind. Remus is the kind of teacher that they wish they had in their school years: he listens carefully, he doesn't judge when you do something stupid, and helps the best way he can.

James has never seen Remus teaching at the university, but he knew that his best friend was a good teacher — or James wouldn't have asked him to tutor James in science in their school years.

Regulus wakes up with his phone buzzing by his side on the bed.

He looks at his phone and reads Barty’s name on the screen. Regulus turns airplane mode on and buries his head on the pillow again.

Regulus closes his eyes. His mind drifts away. He falls back to sleep quite fast.

***

He wakes up again. This time because of a loud BANG!

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Someone is trying to break his door. Perfect.

Regulus is sitting on the bed when the hits start again. If the door breaks, whoever is hitting on it will pay for the repair.

He gets up, rubs his palm on his face while he walks to the door. Regulus holds and twists the doorknob.

“Look, I hope that there's a good reason to break my door,” Regulus says, opening the door. When he does that, the other side reveals Barty and Evan, two of his best friends. Now he was rethinking his choices of friends.

“Fuck, thank God you're alive,” Barty breathes. “You were not answering my calls, got me dead worried.”

“I'm going to kill you right now,” Regulus says, looking at Barty, “I was sleeping. I finally managed to sleep without interruptions after weeks. And now you're the interruption,” he crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyeing his two friends.

“I told you we shouldn't have come,” Evan says. Regulus gives them space to come in, and they do.

“Did you eat, Reg?”

“None of your business.”

“That's a no,” Barty points out.

He's too tired to tell him to fuck off. He just gives Barty a sharp gaze, but nothing else. He headed to his bedroom and opened his wardrobe. With clean clothes in hands, he goes straight to the bathroom.

The cold water runs through Regulus' body, he soaps and rubs his arms and legs, then his shoulders and the back of his neck, just like he does every day, the same order, in the same way.

With the clothes on, his body clean and fully awake, Regulus grabs his phone and turns the airplane mode off, revealing more than fifteen calls from Barty and a lot of texts from Evan. He rolls his eyes at the screen and walks to where he left his friends.

Barty was saying something, but immediately stopped when Regulus showed up.

“What?” Regulus asks.

“Nothing,” is Barty's answer, “Evan is making lunch.”

“No he's not. I'm not hungry, and the two of you can eat perfectly in your own flat, get out of mine.”

“C’mon, Reg. What was the last time you ate something? Anything,” Barty questions him.

“Yesterday. Lunch.”

“You just ate lunch? Yesterday?” This is Evan’s voice coming from the kitchen.

“No, I had dinner, too. Green grapes.”

“This boy is trying to starve himself to death.”

“He'll be the death of us,” Evan dramatically says. Regulus rolls his eyes, and then looks back at the boys.

“Get out of my kitchen, Evan.”

“Not happening. I'm going to cook and you're going to eat, even if we have to tie you up.”

“Prepare the rope, then,” Regulus says, going to the couch and sinking himself in a corner, hugging a pillow.

“Oh, yeah, Barty will take care of that.”

***

His friends don't actually tie him up to make him eat. But he eats because, no matter how much he denies, he is hungry.

Regulus is still sitting on the couch, his plate on his lap and he's eating quietly, and he feels his friends’ eyes on him. He didn't say anything, he just kept eating. He finished his meal and put his plate aside. Regulus leans on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

“You won't eat more? You ate so little,” Evan tells him.

“It's fine,” Regulus is half full and could eat more, but he hates feeling full, so he won't eat more, thank you very much, “It's all part of my writing process.”

“Starving yourself?”

“Something like that. My best works come out from shit moments. Being with the two of you makes this moment shit, I should write something about it.”

“That's why I love this boy. He doesn't even try to be nice,” Barty says, getting close to him and throwing an arm around Regulus' shoulders. He doesn't hug back but doesn't flinch either. Regulus gazes at Evan, who is smirking.

“You won't do anything about your boyfriend squeezing me?” He asks.

“Nope,” Evan answers, popping the p.

“That's why I like your sister better,” Evan puts a hand on his chest and pretends to be offended by Regulus' answer.

“I'm telling you, Tom, I didn't forget. I just— just—”

“What? Just what, Sirius?” Tom says through the phone, sounding completely angry. Sirius fucked up.

Tom has been his boyfriend for around three months, and Sirius couldn't keep a commitment. They were supposed to meet up at a bar the prior night. Sirius panicked. He didn't show up.

“I’m sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I was going to show up but— I panicked, completely. And—”

“Panicked? What the actual fuck, Sirius? I can't believe you're telling me this,” Sirius started to answer, but Tom was faster, “You don't try, that's your problem. You don't even fucking try. If you panicked, if you couldn't show up, why didn't you call me? Why didn't you let me help you? Huh?!”

“I— I don't know. I— I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I'm sorry, Tom.”

“Keep your apologies to yourself. You won't need to apologize to me again, because we're fucking done.”

“No, Tom. Wait, just lemme—” the call ended. Perfect.

Sirius pockets his phone and gets out of his flat, and walks to the door of the flat in front of his own. He reaches for the bunch of keys in his pocket and uses one of the keys to open the door of his friend’s flat.

Lynde's flat is tidy, always clean, and you always feel safe there. This flat was Sirius’ just like it was Lynde's, and she's right there to receive him… friendly…

“What the fuck, Sirius?” She snaps, her Welsh accent thicker than velvet. That's the second time in that day that someone said that to him, “Don't come inside of my house like that. What if I was naked?”

“Not my first time seeing it, anyways,” Sirius shrugs. Lynde was his ex-girlfriend, who Tom absolutely despised for the simple fact that she was Sirius' ex. Their relationship had lasted about five or six months, and they couldn't let each other go, even when there wasn't romance and sex between them. She rolled her eyes and got up from the couch she was laying.

“If you want to eat, do it yourself,” she says.

“Tom broke up with me,” her eyebrows flew up, with a small oh. Sirius saw her fighting against a smile. Lynde was not a fan of Tom; Sirius pretended that he didn't know that, but he knew, and he couldn't blame her.

“Poor boy,” she said, getting closer to him, “Tom, I mean. He's the poor boy. He should've kept you,” Lynde cups his hands with her own, “I just had lunch, and there are leftovers in the fridge, eat it. I'm going to work and when I get back, I'm ordering a pizza and buying a ton of alcohol. You're gonna mourn your failed relationship, and I will celebrate that Tom is not between us anymore.”

“That's cruel, Lyn.”

“Welsh people normally are,” (they're not). Lynde walks out the door, murmuring bye-bye. And Sirius eats the leftovers, he lays on the couch and waits.

His break up doesn't hit him in any part of the afternoon. And he asks himself if he, at any moment, cared about the relationship. He admits, he wasn't in love, him and Tom was just something that was nice for the time it lasted, at least for Sirius. He tries to remember the times he was actually and genuinely in love, and he just thinks of Lynde — or David Bowie, but Lynde says he doesn't count.

When they broke up, he was ready to kneel and beg her to keep being his friend, because she was the only one that understood him, she was the only one who took him out of useless tantrums. Thinking carefully, he was still in love with her, but not in the same way as before. Being in love is not just romantic. Being in love can be friendly and platonic; and they were that.

He didn't need to kneel and ask her to still be his friend. It was the first thing she said after they broke up.

“You're still my best friend, right?”

“Of course, my girl,” he gripped her hand, “always.”

Later that day, they actually eat pizza and get drunk. Just because they can, and because Lynde hated his last boyfriend, and because Sirius wasn't actually in love with anyone for so long.

Chapter Text

Regulus is staring into space, alone on his flat, just listening to the sounds of the London afternoon. It's not even past 3 p.m., so the traffic is alright.

He hears his phone buzz three times. When he picks it up, he sees three texts from Barty.

Barty
hey reg
the girls talked about a movie night here
wanna come?

Movie nights are more usual than ever now, they do that basically every weekend. Pandora’s marriage with the guy who had a name that sounded like a sneeze was going down, and she's in a full panic of what to do with the four-months-old little girl that they have. She was happy there, very disgustingly in love. They keep close to her, taking care and giving advice

Selfishly, Regulus is glad to not to be the only person without a relationship in the group if the marriage actually goes down. Barty dated Evan and Dorcas dated Marlene — she is not always around them, she's more like a fun additional that happens sometimes.

When Pandora started to date Phil — that's how she used to call him —, he was the only person in the group without a relationship. Their marriage didn't take too long to happen, it was after seven months of dating. They decided to get married because they found out that Pandora was pregnant — and because they were very, very disgustingly in love. That makes them together for almost twenty months. Twenty months and everything was going down already.

Is it selfish to be glad that your friend is breaking up in the relationship she was happy in? Yes. But human beings are selfish all the time and there's nothing we can do about it.

Regulus
no romance movies

Barty
evan and i are choosing the movie
relax

Regulus
fine im in
getting snacks for us

He drops his phone back to the couch and puts himself on his feet. Regulus puts shoes on and grabs his keys and wallet, heading out of his flat. He decides to go to the grocery store for snacks now, later the traffic will be hell.

In the store, Regulus grabs the things that he knows that his friends like. Peanut for Dorcas, chips for Barty and Evan, Pandora is having a weird addiction to pineapple these days, so he takes pineapples for her, too. Popcorn for himself, and he knows that the popcorn will be shared between everyone.

Walking to the outside of the store, he has the glimpse of a guy.

His brown skin is shining with the beam of light from the sun starting to set, he has messy hair, seeming that he ran a hand through it a lot of times. He's tall, handsome, and he keeps his eyes locked with Regulus' through his glasses. The guy keeps looking at him; his amber eyes are kind and gentle. Still looking at him, the guy shoots him a smile which is as gentle as his eyes.

“I love when girls smile at me in the street,” Pandora told him once.

“Why's that?” Regulus asked back.

“If someone smiles at you in the street, you smile back. It's a basic girl rule, Reggie.”

“I'm not a girl, I won't be smiling at strangers in the streets.”

“You don't have to be a girl,” she patted his cheek, chuckling, "you just have to be polite, darling.”

Regulus sees that beautiful boy looking— smiling at him and the memory punches him.

He looks back at the pretty amber color staring and smiling brightly at him. He forced himself to light up the most kind smile he has.

Regulus is pleased by himself when the guy’s smile widens.

The moment lasted mere seconds, but it lasted enough to leave a comfortable feeling of warmth on his chest all the way to Barty and Evan’s flat.

***

Everyone was asleep on the couch. Regulus was sinking in a corner, with his phone open on the notes app. Personally, it was way better to write in a journal, but that was not possible at the moment, so his phone will make it.

He was thinking about the guy in the store. The way he looked at Regulus made him feel warm, almost safe. Maybe it was the excess of kindness that he wasn't used to with strangers, but it was a good feeling. He wanted to see that guy again and feel that again.

That feeling made him remind himself of a part of his childhood, where his brother used to sneak out to his room and they would curl together in the bed, falling asleep in the heat of each other's bodies.

Or the talks he had with his childhood best — and only — friend. Regulus was always subject smart; he got the best marks, always had his nose in a subject book. His friend didn't; he couldn't learn like the other kids, couldn't quite pay attention to the teachers, and always got average grades. But his friend had the best philosophical visions that Regulus has ever seen. In their talks, his friend always talked more than Regulus, who was fascinated by all the philosophy that the other boy was introducing him to.

Mnesos was his name. They hadn't talked in three years or so, but Regulus still thought about him.

A time after he turned eighteen, Regulus' parents died, one after another, and he left his house, and went straight to his cousin, Narcissa. She was the first person he called when he left. Mnesos was the second.

He doesn't even know where his childhood best friend is, he doesn't if he's fine, if he misses Regulus. Nothing. He knows nothing about him anymore.

Regulus shook his head to keep his thoughts away and he came back to his phone screen. And his thoughts flew back to the pretty guy with the amber eyes.

I don't even know you.

Regulus writes the next line. He deletes. Thinks. Writes. Delete. How did you feel about him? He thinks.

But it seems like you can
Take me out of the blue.

Regulus wants to describe him. How? That man was the pure essence of the sun. His eyes are the most beautiful amber he's ever seen.

The sun out in a man,
I'll try to hide from the amber.
I'm not sure if I can.

He wants to see him again. He wants so badly to feel that again. That smile shot directly at him, his eyes lighting up, the sun on his face like he's goddamn Apolo—

“You're blushing,” Regulus is scared by a voice. He sees that Barty woke up. Evan still has his head on his lap.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are. Who are you talking to?”

“No one. I'm writing.”

“Mm. About who?”

“About the most depressing and heart-wrenching experience of my life,” Regulus lies.

“C'mon, don't hide it from me. You, Regulus Black, is writing a love poem. I'm impressed.” Regulus rolls his eyes at him.

“I am not.”

“Let me see, then. I'll tell you if it is heart-wrenching like you said.”

“No. I'll sell it, if you want to read it, fucking buy it when I put it on sale, prick.” Barty shakes his head and lays back down. Regulus turns back to his writing.

I might don't make it ‘till December
If I don't see you again.
Then, of you I'll still remember,
And you'll show me how you're plain.

Regulus reads and rereads it. Over and over again. He needs to see that guy again.

“Remus!” James storms into Remus' flat.

“What the fuck, James? Don't come inside my flat like that. What if I was naked?” Remus complains.

“That vision would be fantastic, Professor,” James teases, and is answered by a roll of eyes from Remus, “Okay, hear me,” he sits on the couch next to Remus, “I saw the most beautiful human being on this planet.”

“If you say that you looked in the mirror, I'll hit you with a boot.”

“Oh, come on, I'm not that egocentric,” Remus makes a face at him, “Okay, fine. But that's not the point. I went to the grocery store earlier and when I was going in, I saw the most beautiful — and all the other similar adjectives — person that I've ever seen. And guess what?!”

“You took their number?”

“Unfortunately, no. But he smiled at me.”

Remus looks at him, with an indifferent expression, “Wow,” he says, almost coldly “that's why you're so worked up? A pretty boy smiled at you?”

“It wasn't just a pretty boy, Remus. He was the most pretty boy in the world.”

“Got it. Will you stay for dinner?”

“Oh, yeah, I will,” Remus just scoffs and shakes his head.

Chapter Text

Regulus fucking found him.

Two days ago, Evan told Regulus about a café in the city centre, a café that he had never gone to. Evan said that the place was beautiful, and he could probably write something there, enjoying the look of the place.

Yesterday was Sunday, and the place was closed. Today is Monday, and Regulus is giving a try to the beautiful café.

Evan wasn't lying, the place is very pretty. Plants scattered around, paintings of lakes and bridges and tables with pretty wooden chairs. Wonderful chandeliers and lampshades illuminating the place.

Then he sees him. Regulus sees the guy from the store. He hides his excitement, but he wants to know everything about this man.

Regulus fucking found him.

He looks just like the first time Regulus saw him. His eyes bright with the afternoon sun hitting his face, messy hair, and the most kind face the world has ever seen.

Looking at him makes Regulus want to crawl under his skin, embrace him and don't let go. His essence is warm, he exhales it. Regulus is fascinated.

Regulus walks to the counter where the guy is, acting nonchalant, as if he has never seen him before; as if he doesn't feel quite obsessed by the man.

“Hi, good afternoon!” the guy says, warmly. Regulus asks himself if he recognized him or he just talks like that with every client. His question is almost answered when the guy squints his eyes, with his own question in his eyes, “I'm sorry, do I know you?”

“I have no idea of what your name is,” Regulus answers him, keeping the nonchalance.

“Yeah, me neither,” the guy takes a deep breath, and something lights up on him, “Wait, you were in the grocery store a few days ago. I saw you there.”

The guy recognized him. He saw him there. Regulus could pass out, but he kept his face straight.

“Yes, I was. I saw you there, too.”

“Why didn't you tell me when I asked if I knew you?”

“I said I didn't know your name, not that I've never seen you before,” Regulus starts a smirk.

“Right, yeah. You're right,” he is sure he saw the guy blushing, but he must have been imagining. He releases a breathless laugh, “What's your name?”

Regulus takes a deep breath. “I'd like a black coffee, please. No sugar.”

The pretty guy's smile widens, and Regulus almost has flashbacks, “I'm gonna get for you,” he grabs a cup and a pen, “What's the order’s name?”

“Regulus,” he answered, with a small smile. The guy's pen led on the cup of coffee, writing fastly. “Oh, no. You wrote it incorrectly. It ends with L-U-S, not L-O-S.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” He scribbled the name he had written before and wrote it correctly under the scribble. “I'm sorry, it won't happen again.”

“For that to happen again I'd need to come here again.”

“I'll be happy to serve you, then.”

Regulus responded with a smile without his teeth, but a genuine smile, and the guy turned around to get his order after he paid. Regulus waited by the counter, the shop wasn't full anyway.

When his order is ready, the guy hands him the cup with his name in. He smiles again, and Regulus is sure that he can stare at that smile for ages.

“Can I tell you my name?” The barista asks him.

“Maybe another day, pretty boy.”

Regulus steps away from the counter, still smiling, feeling his ears burning. He chooses a table in a nice part of the shop, near a painting of a flower field, with light-pink and white flowers.

He has a bag on his shoulder, which he places on the chair and grabs his journal and a pen. He opens the journal and goes to the page where the poem about the guy is.

He tries to start a new paragraph, and he takes very long to press the pen on the paper, sipping his coffee every now and then. Regulus tries to sneak his eyes to the counter again, just to find the guy already staring at him, and widening his smile when they eyes lock together. He feels his cheeks heating, and comes back to stare at his paper. He plays with his pen, looking around, but avoiding the counter.

You keep staring.
And I retrieve
While I do my reaping.

Should I in your eyes believe?
What could I do
To let you remove my last sleeve?

The last lines are a bit obscene. Barty would probably agree. Removing the last sleeve is definitely an euphemism for getting naked, Regulus thinks.

Only if you hold me through.
I want to explore your head,
But don't spit me, just chew.

Once, Regulus heard something about chewing it up, but not spitting it out or something like that. It sounded funny to write that.

Chew it up, but don't spit it out is very deep if you look at it for enough time. Chewing is the process of breaking a thing (the most common is food) with the teeth and the jaw; chewing is breaking. And spit out can mean throwing something away. It almost says, break it, but keep it. Sounds a bit toxic, depending on how the light hits it.

Regulus bites the end of his pen, and he sees a client coming inside the shop, and the guy turns his attention to them. When the guy is distracted, Regulus sees an opportunity to look at him without being discovered.

The guy does a similar process of what he did with Regulus with the other client. He says something, they answer, and the guy heads to make the order. When he does that, Regulus gets his head down to his journal again, hoping that he hadn't seen him staring.

Regulus wants to finish the poem in some way. When he doesn't know how to end a poem, he goes to the easiest source of complicated feelings: his parents.

He remembers hearing his father talking about a guy that he made a contract with who was openly homosexual. Orion was talking about how ‘those things are not things that other people want to know, they should not be talked about openly like that’, and how ‘it is wrong’, in his words.

Always hear from my dad,
That feeling that 
Should not be said.

Feeling what? Maybe any feeling at all. His father never showed his emotions, except for anger and deception, which was most directed to Regulus’ brother. Also, it was weird writing dad, he never called Orion that.

The first thing James does when he gets home is open his Instagram.

He types in the search bar regulus, and there are a ton of them. James looks at every single one, looking for his Regulus, but he can't find him. It is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.

Giving up, James lays on his stomach on the couch burying his head in a pillow. He kicks his feet in the air, feeling the weather cooling with the arrival of the night. He feels his phone buzzing in a steady rhythm. He grabs it and sees Lily's name on the screen. James sits back down and answers her call.

“Hey, pretty girl, how are you?” he says.

“Hi, James. I'm good, thanks,” she says happily, “how are you?”

“Feeling good. Why's it for the call?”

“I just wanted to know if you're staying with Harry next week.”

“Oh, right,” James remembers. They take turns staying with Harry. This week is Lily, next is James, “I am, Lils. Just tell me when I can pick him up.”

“Good! I'm working at home, so anytime on Friday is fine. You can call me when you arrive.”

“Sure, don't worry.”

“Great. It was only this that I wanted to say. I'd put Harry on the line, but he's sleeping.”

“That's fine, thanks anyway.”

Lily chuckles through the phone call, “You're welcome. Bye, James!”

“G’bye, Lils,” and the call ends. James needs to let the flat tidy before Friday. His flat wasn't big, and it wasn't too messy, but it still needs to be organized.

James puts himself on his feet, walking to the kitchen. Opening the cabinet, he grabs a glass, and then he opens the fridge, grabbing the bottle of wine. He opens it, and deposits the liquid in the glass.

There’s something comforting about the way the bottle uncorks, the way it shakes in the glass, the first sip. It’s like a ritual. Familiar. Safe.

Remus made a comment the other day. ‘Another drink?’ he said, half-joking. James laughed it off. He worries too much. It’s not like James needs it. He just enjoys it. Besides, it helps him sleep better. Most nights, anyway. Sure, he has been drinking a bit more lately, but only because it’s been a stressful season, the shop gets crowded in the summer. He’ll cut back once things settle down.

He has it all under control.

Chapter Text

At the same time as the prior day, Regulus goes to the cafe again.

Regulus walks to the counter, and the guy's eyes are on him all the time. Normally, Regulus would complain about being watched, but he didn't care if it was him. Standing face to face with the barista, he opened a smile.

“Hi, good afternoon!,” he says, “The same from yesterday?”

Regulus' eyebrows fly up, and he opens a smile, relaxing his muscles, “Yeah, that'd be great.”

“Do you want something to eat?”

“No, thanks.”

“Right. Sorry I didn't ask that yesterday. If I had, would your answer be different from today's?”

Regulus chuckles, shaking his head, that man is adorable, “No, I guess. I'd refuse anyways,” he answers, and the guy seems pleased.

Like a rehearsed dance, Regulus pays, the barista makes his coffee, and then hands it to Regulus. He looks at the cup, and there's no scribble on it.

“You wrote it right this time. On the first try.”

“My teachers always said that I learned fast,” the guy is blushing, he is cute. Regulus wants to try to fix that uncontrollable hair that he has, even if he fails; he just wants to be closer to him, “Can I tell you my name now?”

There is a part of the counter with some high chairs. Regulus approaches them and sits down with his elbows on the counter, the guy follows him, but on the opposite side. Regulus leans a bit closer, just a bit, “What's your name?”

“James,” the guy says immediately, like that was the question of his life, “James Potter.”

“James Potter,” Regulus repeats, “Don't you think it is dangerous to tell me your surname, too? What if I'm planning on killing you?”

“I don't think so. You look so gentle and soft.”

Regulus arches an eyebrow, “I have a diploma in Forensic Science and a postgraduate in forensic medicine. I also worked for a year and a few months in a morgue, doing autopsies and that kind of stuff. I'm not that soft, and gentle is not something people usually call me,” Regulus says casually.

“That's fascinating,” James breathes, and Regulus feels his face heating, “Do you still work in the morgue?”

“No, I don't. I quitted nine months ago.”

“Oh. Why's that?”

“My cousin's got pregnant, and I'm helping her, I'll be the boy's godfather. And money is not something that I needed, so it was easy to drop it off.”

James seems pretty shocked with his answer, but then happily asks: “How long has she been pregnant?”

“Nine months,” Regulus chuckles, “I can receive a call any moment from my cousin saying that she is giving birth. It's freaking me out.”

“This part is tough. You're anxious all the time, and there's not much we can do about it,” James' smile never leaves, looks like it is glued to his face. Regulus sips his coffee.

“Do you have children?”

“Oh, yeah. I have one little boy. He'll be one year old at the end of next month.”

Something flinches inside of Regulus. Is James still with his son's mother? Do they still talk? Do they live together? James must be good in reading people, because after around five seconds of Regulus' silence, he adds:

“I'm not married to his mother anymore, though. But we're great friends,” okay, that's alright. Like, Regulus is friends with his ex, Barty, they're best friends until now, and there's nothing wrong with that. The things and experiences they shared while they dated were stained in them, and they couldn't leave each other. Regulus knows everything about Barty, and Barty knows everything about Regulus. That's a connection they don't want to let go.

“That's really nice, James,” he sips once again, trying to keep his smile, “Honestly, my cousin is quite calm about raising her son, she used to babysit me when we were younger.”

“And now you'll babysit her baby,” James says, and Regulus chuckles, “Look, know basically nothing about you, but I think you'll do great, Regulus. It's fine if you think you won't, but keep your hopes up, don't let the fear stand out. The only thing that is stronger than hope is fear.”

“Thanks, James. That means a lot.”

“Anytime. If you want to find me, you know where I am.”

It's Tuesday night and Sirius and Lynde are sitting on the couch, the movie they were watching just ended, and they decided they aren't going to watch another. Sirius hears Lynde taking a deep breath.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever felt like you want to be different? But not all the time, just some days."

"Ehm.. well, when I was younger and ran away from my abusive household, I wanted to be different from those people who raised me. But I don't think that is what you're talking about."

"No, it's not" she chuckles, "It's something with what people call me. My gender. Sometimes I don't think I'm a girl. Not fully."

"You think you're transexual?"

"No, not that. It's just— I don't know. Some days I want to be a girl, other days I think I want to be a boy. And in some others I don't know what I want to be. And I don't know what I actually am. I might be a fraud."

"No, you're not. You're not a fraud, Lyn,” he wraps an arm around her shoulders, “You're discovering things and you're scared. You're scared because you don't know what that feeling is. Well, I don't know either, but I promise I'll help you the way I can, okay?"

"Okay,” she nods, smiling.

***

“Wednesday is tough,” Lynde sighs, “It's the middle of the week and the kids are tired and all complaining.”

She works in a primary school, teaching kids around six and seven years old. Lynde loves the kids whole-hearted, but she’s free to complain.

“The kids are precious little things, y’know,” Lynde adds, “they're discovering the world; what they like and what they don't, and I love to help them in the journey. But it can be so exhausting.”

“I'm surprised that you didn't go crazy yet,” he says, and Lynde chuckles.

They're finishing their lunch at Sirius', and after that Lynde has to go to work after that. Sirius just works at the weekends, in a bar that his friend runs. He goes up on stage with his guitar and plays a few songs. Nothing original, though, he can write nothing. But he's happy with the job he does, anyways.

Lynde finishes eating, and she heads to the sink, turning the faucet on and starting to do the dishes.

“Don't worry, with that, Lyn,” Sirius stops her, “You can go to work, I'll do these dishes.”

“Oh, thank you very much, darling,” she turns the water off, and starts to leave the kitchen and head to the door. She grabs a bag and her keys, “Don't put your house on fire. Have a good day!”

“Don't worry about my house, and I'll be fine!”

Sirius' evenings are mostly free. When he doesn't have anywhere to go out, he stays in his flat; sometimes he cleans, or he rehearses or he finds something else to do.

After doing the dishes as he said he would, he picks his guitar up and sits on the couch. Sirius is happy that he decided to work on something that he’s got to use his guitar; he can work and do something he likes at the same time.

He plays a few songs, then lays on the couch, holding the body of his guitar, and he gets up again and plays some more songs, it's a repetitive process. It takes a while for him to put the guitar down.

Throughout the beginning of the afternoon, Sirius organizes some things, moves the bedside table and his bed from place once again this week, and looks down the streets on the flat balcony. Looking at the people walking around, he decides to leave the flat for a while.

Sirius gets on his motorbike and rides to some streets down his building, looking at trees and pretty houses. He drives all the way down to the centre of London. The sun is going to go down in an hour, and Lynde must be leaving work already.

Getting there, he sees people closing shops, people walking with dogs, and more and more people. A place catches his attention, it looks like a cafe; the outside is pretty, the walls are a mix of russet brown and off-white, the windows have carved details and are very clean. From the outside, he could see paintings on the inside, and there were very few people inside.

He heads to the cafe’s door, where another man also approaches. He is a few steps ahead of Sirius, and he is tall, like, very tall. Sirius is not short, that man is just tall as a pole.

The man gets on the door first, opening and looking back to close it. That's when he sees Sirius. And for the surprise of zero people, Sirius sees him, too.

The man has curly brown hair that falls beautifully on his forehead, showing off his brown eyes and full eyebrows. He has a hooked nose that makes him look more serious, but he is smiling at Sirius. He can barely believe that that guy is smiling at him, so he just smiled back, feeling his cheeks burn. Sirius almost forgot that the guy was still holding the door open, waiting for Sirius to come inside, and he did.

Sirius looks to the counter, finding a brown-skinned guy, wearing glasses. He looks to the other man behind him, and he seems to recognize him.

“Remus, hey!” The guy on the counter says. Remus. That's his name. Beautiful. “You're here sooner than ever.”

“Oh, yeah,” Remus says, with a deep and raspy voice, “I had to dismiss the class sooner because of a water problem in the building.”

“I see. It's good to see you less with a dead look,” the barista turns his attention to Sirius, “what can I get for you?”

“Oh, uhm, a black coffee, please,” Sirius says, trying not to gaze at Remus.

“Something to eat?”

“No, thank you.”

Sirius pays for his coffee and waits for it to be done. While the barista prepares his order, he keeps talking with Remus.

“I'm having the best conversations with him,” the barista says.

“With who?” Remus asks.

“The pretty boy that smiled at me last Friday. He came into the cafe on Monday, and we have been talking here. He's fascinating.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A lot of things. I talk about Harry quite a bit, and he seems to enjoy it. I think he likes kids, by the way, he told me his cousin is pregnant and he's the kid's godfather,” Sirius has no idea of who the barista is talking about, but he looks very enamoured by the person.

His coffee is handed to him, and he takes it with a smile. Remus and the barista — who he could catch the name, it was James — kept talking. James complains about forgetting to ask for the boy's number, but says that it is worth it, because they talk a lot and those are the best moments of his day.

Sirius can't catch the boy's name, though, James doesn't mention it, and Remus doesn't ask.

“I want to be closer to him but I don't know how,” James says, “When I say something to get closer, he changes the subject. I won't push him to say anything, but I still wanted to know a bit more.”

“You should give him a present,” Sirius advises in a mumble, sipping his coffee right after.

“What?” James asks, looking at him.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, but I ended up hearing a bit. And I think you should give him something, or just say something he'd like hearing,” James listens to Sirius carefully, “For example, my best friend is my best friend now because I gave her a pretty button from a shirt that I didn't use anymore. I thought she would hate me and think I'm weird. Turns out that she loved it and started to be my friend — best friend, even.”

Remus chuckles, then looks to James, “I think James here wants to be more than a friend,” James rolls his eyes at him, but he's blushing.

“If that makes James feel any better, that best friend and I started dating after a while. It didn't last more than a year, but we're still inseparable.”

“I'm definitely feeling better now,” James says, grinning, “what should I give him? Or what should I say?”

“What I could catch is that you barely know him and you've been talking for only a few days, so giving something is too much now. Just say something nice, something he'd like to hear.”

James hums, smiling, “I can do that, I have a lot to say and I can say a bunch of nice things,” he says, and Remus nods, “Maybe it can work, thanks. What's your name?” He asks Sirius.

“Sirius. Nice to meet. I think I already know your names, though. James and Remus, right?” Sirius points to each one of them as he says their names.

“That's it,” Remus grins, and then turns to Sirius, “I believe you don't come here often, I've never seen you around.”

Sirius has to smile, because it's so cliche, “That's the first time I come here. I usually stay around my home, it's better for meeting some friends and working.”

“Got it,” Remus says, “And what do you do?”

Sirius smiles, because he loves talking about his job. The bar's little stage feeling his weight, the people listening carefully to his voice and the sound of his guitar, he loves when someone compliments his performance, and sometimes a person or two pay him a drink.

He loves all that.

“I play guitar and sing at a bar that my friend runs. I have been doing this for months now.”

“You sing your own music?"

“Nah. I can't write any lyrics, but I can do the music, just not the words. I play covers. It's nice, even so. You can show up there at any time, I play on weekends.”

Remus gazes at James. He's almost beaming, Sirius would say, but maybe he is just a smug bastard, “You free to go?”

“No way,” James answers, “I'm staying with Harry next week, I pick him up on Friday. I can next weekend, though. Feel free to go without me, I'm sure you'll have a good time, you're needing it.”

“And you, Remus, what do you do?” Sirius turns to Remus and asks.

“I teach Astronomy at the University. It's nice, but tiring.”

“I hope to see you at the bar, then. As James said, you're needing a good time.”

Chapter Text

When Regulus got home on Wednesday, he got a call from Pandora, where she said that he should show up at her flat immediately, and then hung up without telling him what happened. Pandora wouldn't tell him to go to hers for no reason, something had to have happened.

He had barely gotten home from the cafe when he got the call, and he still had his shoes and clothes on, so he just grabbed the car keys and went all the way down to his car. Regulus drove as fast as he could, even with the traffic.

Tragically, he got there almost forty minutes after he got his friend’s call. Regulus rushed to her building and ran to her flat. He knocked desperately, and almost jumped inside the flat when the door flew open.

“Reg! It's so good that you're here!” Pandora says joyfully.

“What happened? Why did you call me?”

“Calm down, baby, it's fine,” she grabs his hands and drags him to the living room, “Look!” There is a box on the floor and four little lives in there.

Four small and beautiful puppies are in the box.

Barty, Evan, Dorcas and Marlene are already there; Barty is trying to catch one specific puppy that keeps running from him, Evan looks stupidly in love looking at his boyfriend — but unable to play with any puppy, because he has his goddaughter, Luna, on his arms —, and Dorcas is feeding one puppy, while Marlene feeds another by her side

“Oh goodness,” Regulus breathes, amused. There's one specific puppy that is looking straight at him. This one is quiet and squeezed in the corner, making it look smaller, it has its head slightly tilted at him, little nose moving with the animal’s sniffing.

“They're all girls,” Pandora says, “They were abandoned in the outside of a store. I asked the owner of the place if the puppies were his or anyone from the store, he said that a guy left them there, and told him that anyone could take the puppies because he wasn't staying with them. So I took them.”

“They need vaccines, don't they?” Regulus asks.

“They do, but I already called Phil. He's coming tomorrow morning and it's taking them to take the first vaccines.”

He walks near the box and sticks his hand out to the puppy that is looking at him, and it takes a few seconds for her to walk and reach out for his hand. She sniffs his fingers, and then licks them with her little wet tongue.

“She did the impossible. She enamoured Regulus,” Barty points out, looking at him.

“Shut it,” Regulus said, petting her, and rubbing behind her ear, “This one's mine.”

“None of us can stay with them,” Dorcas says, which is true. Barty and Evan are not the most responsible people to take care of a life, Pandora has her daughter to take care of, and a puppy would be too much for her, and Dorcas and Marlene lived in a small flat that doesn't allow pets, “We wanted to put posters around, saying that they need a home. This one already has one, doesn't she?”

Regulus chuckled, taking the puppy in his arms. She allows him, and licks his chin when she's lifted up.

***

“Phil asked me if you, for any reason, had new writing for The Quibbler,” Pandora asks him. They were printing some posters with pictures of the three puppies that needed a home — that one specific did, in fact, enamoured him, and he's staying with her. They were going to place it around tomorrow.

The Quibbler is Xenophilius’ — that's Phil's name — magazine, it publishes independent stories (or writing in general), mostly. It's where Regulus sells his poetry. He doesn't get a lot of money from there, but he doesn't need money anyways, he has his inheritance.

“I might have… something,” he says, thinking about the poem he wrote about James.

Regulus was uncertain of if he should publish it. His name was never in the magazine, he wanted to keep it anonymous, but his friends knew that was him, obviously, and they would read, and then they would ask questions, which he is not willing to answer.

He could already hear Barty's voice asking about the amber eyed man that Regulus wrote about.

He had mentioned James for none of his friends, not even to Narcissa, who he called daily and urgently needed to see. That made him feel like James was his and only his, and he only existed in Regulus' mind.

The posters were ready. The three puppies in the picture seemed like three little angels, pure and divine creatures, or maybe Regulus just liked dogs more than other animals.

“You seem upset,” Pandora's soft voice cut his thoughts, “What happened?”

Maybe one person could know about James.

“It's kind of a love poem about this guy I met. I just don't want you and the rest asking questions about him.”

“Why don't you want us asking about him?”

“Dunno… I don't wanna jinx anything, I guess. He's very nice,” he said, smiling at Pandora, remembering James' smile being shot at him, “Just don't tell anyone, keep it between you and me.”

“I'll take it to my grave, don't worry, Reggie,” she smiles, taking the posters and dividing them in four piles, “You will take this pile, I'll get this one, Marls and Cas will have that one over there, and Barty and Ev is that one,” Pandora pointed to every pile as she spoke, “The boy's questions are the only things that are impeding you from publishing the poem?”

“Yeah,” he confesses, frowning.

“Then publish it, if you like the poem. You can just shut them up, and I'll pretend I know nothing.”

“But then I'll keep shutting them up until they're angry at me?”

“Regulus, hear me. They're your best friends, and they should — and will — respect you when you say that you don't want to answer questions,” she takes his hand, “Think about what you're doing today. Tomorrow you will deal with tomorrow.”

***

Thursday afternoon, a bit sooner than Regulus usually goes, he heads through the cafe entrance door, and finds a very pretty James Potter with his attention turning from the customer in front of him to Regulus for mere seconds.

Regulus is afraid that the sweat on his hands doesn’t damage the pile of posters on his hands while he waits. He doesn't need to wait too much until James ends his service with the client. When that happens, he goes straight to the counter to face James, who's already smiling at him.

“Hi, Regulus,” James grins at him, and Regulus swears that he could pass out.

“Hey, James. Uhm… I— My friend rescued these puppies yesterday, and they really need a home. I just need to know if I can put a poster on that mural,” Regulus gazes at the wooden mural that has posters of missing people, missing animals, job offering, etcetera.

“Oh, that's not on me. I just have to talk to my superior really quickly. Can you wait a bit?”

“Yeah, sure. Take your time.”

Regulus doesn't have to wait for too long. James appears again, and in front of him there's a blonde man. He has a smile on his face, and he sticks his hand for Regulus to shake.

“Hello, good afternoon. I'm Mr. Pettigrew. Do you need anything?” the man says while Regulus shook his hand.

“Good afternoon, sir, I'm Regulus. Uhm… I just want to hang this poster on the mural. My friend rescued three puppies and they need a home.”

“Oh, right. Of course you can! That's a great thing to do,” Mr. Pettigrew gets closer to him, “Can I hang that for you?”

“Yeah, sure. Thank you very much, sir,” Regulus says, handing the poster to him.

The man walks to the mural and hangs his poster there. The three puppies are in the picture, above Pandora's number and the writing: need a home. Mr. Pettigrew politely nods at him, and then returns from where he came from.

Regulus turns back to James, who is grinning at him, and he can see a light pink on his cheeks.

“Thanks, James.”

“That— that was nothing,” James laughs, clearly shying, and Regulus chuckles, “Well… do— do you want something to drink or eat?”

“Oh, sorry, I'll pass today. I have to see my cousin. She's making me crazy with that end of pregnancy. She says the baby is coming soon but she doesn't say how soon, so I'm freaking out,” Regulus says, gesticulating. 

“Don't worry, you'll be fine,” the barista assures, “Uhmm, Regulus… it— it is very nice to talk with you here. I, uhmm, I really enjoy it,” okay, now James was really shy, like a little girl talking to her school crush.

“I'm glad you enjoy my company, James. It's great talking with you, too.”

Regulus feels like he's choosing his words too carefully, scared to hurt James. How could he answer something like that without sounding rude?

It hit Regulus. He never actually cared about being rude, not at all. Maybe except for Pandora. But the rest of the world? He never gave a shit if he was being rude or not. Clearly, he really liked James Potter.

“Sorry, I really need to go,” Regulus says, and then leaves. A stupid, rich boy, that's what Regulus is. James Potter is making him lose his rude motherfucker personality.

Perfect, he guesses.

The truth is, he really needs to see Cissy, so he jumps in his car, taking the way to her house. And James Potter’s smile was stained in his mind.

Chapter Text

The ride to Lily's building is silent, but James' mind isn't.

Regulus had come to the cafe for that whole week except Friday, today. James asks himself if he had any trouble around or if James did something bad and now he wanted to be away from him.

Maybe it was because of yesterday. James was completely amused by Regulus with that poster with the puppies that needed a home, and he was so focused on saying something nice to him like Sirius told him so. All he could do was sweat and stutter at him, like an idiot.“I'm glad you enjoy my company, James. It's great talking with you, too.” It was such a polite answer, and what James said was way too much for someone he had just met. A stupid, lovesick boy, that's what James is.

He parks his car in front of Lily's building, and thankfully she's already waiting for him, with Harry in his arms. She also has a little bag with her, the bag that keeps Harry's things. James rolls the car window down, and they see him.

Lily looks at Harry and points at the car, and Harry must have spotted him as well, because he beams and claps. James steps out of the car, walking towards them with a smile.

"Look who it is, Harry! It's Daddy," Lily says joyfully, "Say hi, Harry."

"Hello, hello!" James approaches, taking Harry in his arms, "How are you, big boy? Miss me?"

"I'm sure he doesn't," Lily jokes, and James gasps, faking to be offended.

"Can you see how evil your Mama is, Harry?" James looks at his son in the eyes, just to find Lily's eyes. Harry laughs and touches James' face, babbling something impossible to discern. He turns back to Lily, "How was he this week?"

"Brilliant. He's just having a bit of trouble when he's alone. I can't leave him for a second that he starts crying."

"That's fine, I can handle that."

"Your parents can, you mean," Lily states. When is James' week to stay with Harry, his son stays with his parents' house while he's at work. Effie couldn't be more happy. She's retired and loves Harry unconditionally, and it's no trouble to her to stay with Harry. Monty thinks Harry is too much like James, and it's like they travelled in time.

"It's the same thing," he half-roll his eyes.

***

The flat is not the tidiest place, but it's alright, James did his best.

"Here we are, big boy," he drops the bag on the couch, "you hungry?"

There's a baby high chair in the kitchen, which James places near the sink, but not close enough to Harry reach for something there that can end up breaking while he's sitting in it. James does some dishes and prepares dinner, all while talking to Harry, who laughs and claps and babbles.

His mind shifts away from Regulus for a while. His baby is with him, and he loves him more than anything in this world. He might think the scientist-who-can-probably-take-a-person's-brain-out that goes to the cafe he works is cute, but that will not bother his time with his little Harry.

Harry eats without trouble and the night sky makes the both of them sleepy. James puts Harry to sleep, and then sleeps next to him, and he falls in a dreamless, deep sleep.

His show starts in forty minutes, and he's just wondering if Remus will show up. And the Saturday show was always scarier than the Sunday's.

Sirius was never too worried about who was going to show; he didn't care if he knew the person or not. But Remus? That guy made something magical with him, and now his hands are sweaty and his stomach is a rollercoaster.

Even with the anxiety, Sirius was rehearsing. He had to be good tonight, really good. He already heard plenty compliments from the crowd, men and women, and he knew that he was good enough to not make people leave, but would Remus enjoy it? Would he leave? He's a professor in a damn university, Sirius didn't even apply to an university. Nothing actually caught his attention, and he was fine by that.

His uncle Alphard left enough for him not needing to work that much. His friend who runs the bar, Gideon, gives him a fee for the music and the shows, and he gets a discount in drinks. That might be the best part about it, fuck the fee.

He checks the time, and his show starts in twenty minutes. Why does the time goes on so quickly when he's drowning in anxiety? Sirius fixes the guitar tuning that don't actually need to be fixed, he just need to move his hands; he picks the strings, playing a picking pattern he makes up in his head.

Sirius leans the guitar in the guitar stand and picks his phone, looking for Lynde's contact in it. She barely attended to his shows, because she usually takes the weekends to rest from the weekdays being a teacher for little children. He presses the button to call her, and she picks up in the third ring.

"Everything alright, Black?" She asks.

"Actually, I'm freaking out."

"Explain it all to me."

"So, I met this guy a few days ago and— and I invited him to come to the show," he bursts out, gesticulating, "And I'm freaking out because I don't know if he'll show up— or if he'll like it if, and just if, he shows up."

"Sirius, you're great on stage and you know that, you don't actually need other people defining if you're good or not," she assures calmly, "Clearly, you want to impress him, and pretending to be someone else will make you impress him with someone you are not. Who are you performing to, anyways? For yourself or for some guy you met a few days ago?"

"For myself. I've always performed for myself, not anyone else."

"That's it. And I'm sure you won't be bad enough to make him never look at you again. Go on that stage, put your shiny hair down and look pretty."

"You just made me had another eye about the shows. My job is to go on a stage, look pretty and sing."

"Okay, now you're turning annoying, I'm hanging up."

"Bye, Lyn," he says, "Wish me luck."

"Luck. But you don't need it. Have fun!" And then the call is over. All Lynde said was true. Who was Sirius playing for? Himself and himself only. He didn't need to make it extraordinary; if the ordinary was good for him, it was enough.

That was what he did. He went up on the stage, and he saw known people; people who were there frequently. They clapped when he placed himself in front of the microphone, with his guitar on his shoulders.

"Good evening, everybody!" He says into the microphone, "Did you miss me?" And the bar is loud. He scans the crowd, looking for Remus, but he doesn't find him. Maybe he just didn't come, and that was fine, but Sirius still was a bit disappointed.

He starts with Bad moon rising, and people sing along or shake their heads in the rhythm. Sirius' fingers move on the frets, changing chords smoothly and singing joyfully. He goes from a song to the other, moving his hips along the beat and secretly looking for Remus.

He's in the last song of the night, Lady Stardust, and that's when he spots him.

"… And he was awful nice," Sirius sings and, looking at a corner of the bar, he sees Remus, and their eyes meet. Sirius looses his breath for a few seconds, forgetting to sing the next line.

Remus smiles and shakes his head, and Sirius needs to look away from him, or he wouldn't keep singing.

"… all the night long," he basically stutters, out of breath, "Ooh, how I signed when they asked if I knew his name…," he belts with a huge grin, chuckling softly through the words.

He avoided looking at Remus direction, not because he didn't want to look at him, he wanted to look at him, but he knew that if their eyes locked again, Sirius wouldn't keep his amusement for the guy.

***

Sirius taps his fingers in a steady beat on his half-drunk pint. He looked for Remus again, but he gave up when he realized that he looked stupid.

"Sirius?" A voice behind him says, making him turn around. And the gods might have heard his prayers, because that's Remus, in flesh and blood, "Found you. You're not easy to find here."

"I wasn't hiding," Sirius grins, "I was right here the whole time."

Remus steps closer to the counter, by Sirius' side, "I could've turned this place upside-down just looking for you."

"Would you really?"

"Maybe," Remus smirks, looking around, "I had never come here before. It's very nice."

"Yeah, it is," Sirius might look weird now, because he doesn't take his eyes out of Remus, not even for a second, "Can I, uhm, pay you something? Y'know, I have a discount for drinks here because of all the performance stuff."

"Do you really?"

"Mhm," Sirius hums, smiling.

"Good, then. A pint will do."

"Your wish is my command," he says, turning to Fabian, Gideon's twin, who was in charge of the bar, and ordering what Remus asked for, "I perform tomorrow, too. Can you be here then?"

"I've got a bunch of essays to correct, I can't," he tells, and Fabian places his drink in front of him, who takes it with a nod, "I don't work on Thursdays afternoons, though. Are you… free?"

"Of course I am," Sirius answers, maybe a bit too excited than the he should've answered, "I— I mean… yeah, sure. Can I, uhm, have your number?"

"Of course you can," Remus smirks, and Sirius' heart skips a beat, because that man is gorgeous.

So, yes, Sirius writes his phone number down for Remus, who immediately sends a text that says good show. Sirius' phone buzzes in his pocket, but he doesn't need to look at it to know that it is Remus' text.

They spend more time than they wanted there, alternating from silence and small talks, and it's almost midnight when they break apart, but Sirius can only think of Thursday afternoon, when he can probably meet Remus again.

His mind races, he thinks about restaurants, parks, and all the places that could be a date, a good one, but without exaggerating. So why not have the date where they first met? They know the place, it's a pretty place and Remus will be comfortable there, because he has been going there for a while, his friend, James, works there.

And perhaps they can find out if James had any luck with his little crush on that guy that he talked about on Wednesday.

Chapter Text

Regulus doesn't show up at the cafe. Again. James is starting to get worried.

It was Tuesday, James was suffocating, and Regulus hasn't showed up. And he didn't show up on Monday, either. James' hours in work sound a bit blue without his cute scientist in front of him, where he stands with those long lashes and grey eyes, that might hide more secrets than knowing how to embalm a body.

James thinks about their last talk, something that he has been doing very often. He might have said something really wrong, he definitely fucked up. It must be it, because James cannot think of a reason for Regulus to not show up. James really thought that he was doing alright here, just talking to him and… daydreaming about it afterwards.

He really needs a drink now, and it'll be a bit harder to do it now that Harry's at home. James can't just get drunk with his son on his flat, he knows better than that.

A phone buzzes somewhere, and James notices that it comes from his bag. He looks around, and there's no client who seems like it's going to order something, and the streets are not too crowded, so a little look at his phone won't kill.

When he takes it out of his bag, he stares at texts from Remus. The first one is a bunch exclamation points, after it there's rushed typos

Remus

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Remebner that guy tvat went to the cafe kast week?

i wnet to hhs show and he askned for my number

he just askejrd me out

thurday three pm

at the cafe

James

WHAT

THATS SO COOL

OMG IM FREKAN OUYT

CINGRATS

he seems so nice it's so good ghat you got along

youve been talking?

Remus

yeah

for three days

i know its not too long

but he likes jazz and he's fine so it's all good

James

please kiss him for me

Remus

i hope i do!!!!!

keep working

i have to continue lecuhfw

*lecture

Remus ends sending three heart-broken emojis, which James answers with two thumbs up and one kissing face, and then James puts his phone back in his bag, standing on the counter.

He genuinely feels great about Remus. It's been so long since he got interested in someone, and that can be good for him. He's always stressed about work, maybe he can find someone who can chill him out.

However, he envies Remus a little bit. He's happy for his best friend, of course, but he misses that feeling; the feeling of getting closer, of mutual desire. He hasn't been on a date since Lily happened, no one seemed to make that tiny spark shine brighter, to make him want and feel wanted.

Regulus was… something. James is amused by him, he wants to get closer, but maybe it's not something that is supposed to make the spark shine brighter. He hasn't known him for enough time to know if he wants wants Regulus.

Maybe he just wants a bit more of company. He has great friends and great parents and a great son. But he misses the romance, of course he does. James loved romance and he loved being romantic. Making someone feel good and wanted and loved was everything to him, it made him feel lighter, better. He also loved when someone else was romantic with him, it made him feel enough; or loveable.

Regulus and James talked, but they weren't romantic to each other, they were barely friends. He doesn't know what Regulus usually does for lunch or dinner, he doesn't know his favorite chocolate brand or if he even likes chocolate.

James knows that he likes black bitter coffee — sometimes with a little bit of sugar — and he never eats. He knows that he has friends who he called "annoying" but even Regulus assumed that they just want him to be alright. James so far knows that Regulus doesn't work, he quit a job in a morgue to help his pregnant cousin, and hasn't been in a steady job for a while.

In the end, James knows he knows quite a bit about Regulus, but he can't know if he wants wants him.

If he just showed up. Maybe he could make a bit more sure of that.

***

By Wednesday, he feels like mourning Regulus.

He arrived earlier at the cafe, and he's sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for Peter to end his shift, so they can switch. Bends his head behind, lightly hitting his skull on the wall, and the corner of his eye catch the poster that Regulus placed last week.

It was still there, maybe Regulus' fingerprints can still be there. James gets up and touched the poster, wondering if it would feel like when James hands Regulus his coffee and their skin brush for mere seconds. Well, it doesn't feel like it. He's touching paper, not Regulus.

There's a number on the poster, and a name under it, it's not Regulus', though. The name is Pandora Rosier-Lovegood. James' eyes gaze at the name, and then the number. That might be Regulus friend.

In an useless hurry, James unpockets his phone, and types Pandora's phone number, making sure he typed everything correctly, and then presses the little button on the screen, putting the phone on his ear right after.

She picks up after a few rings.

"Hello?" A sweet voice says.

"Hi, uhm… I saw a poster with your name and number in it where I work. Am I talking to Pandora Lovegood?"

"Oh, right, that's me! Are you interested in one of the puppies? There are two left."

"I'm sorry, I'm not. I wanted to know if you know a guy called Regulus," James almost hangs up in embarrassment after a few seconds of her silence.

"Oh," she breathes, "Depends on who's asking."

"We're… friends. He has been coming to the cafe where I work for the last week, but he hasn't come here for three days. I was just wondering if something happened. My name is James, by the way."

"James… he hasn't mentioned you, not by the name, at least. But I can assure you he's fine," a wave of relief runs through James' body. Regulus was fine, "I don't know if you know, but his cousin was pregnant. She gave birth last Friday, and he has barely left her side since that day."

Makes sense. Regulus once said she could give birth at any moment, and apparently the moment had come.

"It's so good to know that. Thank you," James tells her, feeling a weight go down his chest. James probably did nothing wrong, Regulus was just helping his cousin, "If you find an opportunity, can you tell him I called?"

"I'm happy to help, James. I'll make sure that he knows you called, don't worry about it."

"That's great, thanks again."

"Have a nice day!"

"Likewise," James says before hanging up. You did nothing wrong, James assures himself, sitting back down. He has fifteen minutes left before his shift.

James remembers how nervous Regulus was about the baby's birth and handling it all. He also remembers how he was when Harry was born. Desperate is a great word to describe it. Harry wasn't a crier, but he still cried enough for a new-born, which made James crazy. James wanted to give Lily the least work to do; she did nine months of work, he shouldn't let her carry more work after that.

So he tried, he put effort in his son, and he cried when he felt like he couldn't. James called his Mum many times, asking her what to do, because he didn't expect Lily to know too much about it, and because he wanted her to rest more than anything in the world.

He made the food more often than Lily, he changed Harry's nappies more often than Lily, he stayed up at night because of their baby more often than Lily, all of it until she gripped his arm and said that he was exhausting himself senselessly, and that she could do stuff.

Lily was tough. She could handle her shit. But just because she could didn't mean that she had to.

He fought a bit against that, but he was, in fact, exhausted, so they switched sides — as far as they could, because James still didn't want to let Lily with most of the work. It was unhealthy, he knows that now; he thought it was care for Lily, but he realized that it wasn't. He realized that he mixed care with his own desire of feelings useful.

He fears that Regulus can fall in the same pit as James did. Regulus seems smart, so he can probably run away from that shitty way to try to take care of someone he cares about.

James fears for Regulus, because he knows how it is to not know how to take care of a new-born. James doesn't know if Regulus has a Mother who he can call in the middle of a meltdown, asking about how he can make the baby accept a goddamn piece of apple.

He has never regretted so much of not getting his number like now. He wanted to call him and ask how things are going, or if he needs any help. James had tried to give him some useful advice when Regulus said that he was freaking out about the end of the pregnancy and the thought of taking care of a baby.

Maybe he could try to help. Asking his friend for his number seemed wrong, and James wouldn't do it. So he has to wait until Regulus decides to show up again; maybe when Pandora tells Regulus that James called, he decides to show up again, and James won't hesitate asking for his number.

He can't fuck one more thing up.

Sirius was going to fuck it all up. Even though he didn't want to fuck up at all.

It's Thursday, half past two, and Sirius needs to leave and head to the cafe. But he feels like he's going to freak out and give up, just like he did with almost every other guy he met.

He's currently dressed up in the middle of his flat, and he desperately needs his best friend. Lynde is at work and he wouldn't pick up if Sirius called, so he doesn't have too much of a way out.

Sirius walks in circles, sliding his fingers in his scalp and tugging, bending his head back in a groan.

He wants to see Remus, and he wants to make him like him, but what if he tries too hard and everything just explodes like a enormous fucking bomb and Remus starts to despite Sirius and all that he has been fantasizing about him falls apart? This is an option.

He had already slipped a good reaction from Remus when he said that one of his favorite musical genres was jazz. Someone very important to Sirius in the past used to play cello and love jazz, and those songs just remind Sirius of them. It's good that Sirius and Remus share this opinion, one more thing to talk about, less one chance of fucking up.

The clock marks two forty-five, and he decides to put himself together, rubbing his palms on his face and pushing himself on his feet, grabbing the motorbike keys and standing in front of the door. Sirius hesitates for a few seconds before twisting the doorknob and rushing to the building exit.

Maybe he doesn't fuck it all up.

***

Remus is waiting for him on the counter, talking to James. He looks at his phone; five to three. Not late, he's fine, everything's fine.

Sirius approaches them, and James is who looks at him first, nudging Remus right after. Remus looks back, and Sirius is sure that he might die at any moment.

"Hi," Sirius greets in a mere whisper.

"Hi," Remus' cheeks are a bit redder than usual, "Wanna order something?"

"That's my line," James interrupts.

"No, I'm fine," Sirius chuckles, standing next to Remus, trying to act like a normal person.

"Shh," Remus shushes James, and then turns back to Sirius, "He's grumpy because his little crush doesn't show up here for exactly a week."

"I'm not grumpy," James argues, "And he hasn't been showing up because his cousin's got a baby."

"Okay, but you're still grumpy."

"Don't you have a date to be in, lupus?"

"That's not my name. That's a disease."

"Whatever," James rolls his eyes, but he's grinning while he jokes, "Get out of here, the two of you. Go to your date."

***

Sirius can throw up at any moment.

After some minutes of them talking and Sirius trying to get know him, Remus said that he really fancied a drink now. Sirius refused the drink, scared that he might not be able to drink because of the knot in the stomach.

He might have said something wrong, and the drink was an excuse to run away from Sirius. His heart drums his chest, and he unpockets his phone, desperate. Sirius opens Lynde's contact, and starts typing.

Sirius

im on a date with that guy i told you about

im scared to fuck up

i think i already did

answer me as fast as you can when you see this

wish me luck !!!!!!

Sirius pockets his phone once again, and Remus shows up with a cup of a liquid that he can't quite see because of the white little lid.

"Sorry, I forgot to ask your age," Remus says, "I'm assuming you're… twenty-four or something like that."

"I'm twenty-seven, actually," he states, grinning, and Remus seems to lose a bit of breath, wide-eyeing.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you seem younger."

"A lot of people say that. And you are…"

"Twenty-eight," Remus tells, and Sirius nods, "You have siblings?" Sirius hesitates at the question, and he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket, but he doesn't touch it.

Wrong question, pretty guy. That question had two different answers, but it's obvious that Remus wanted only one.

"Nah. Do you?"

"Does James count? Not from blood, but we have been together since we were children."

Sirius chuckles, staring at Remus' freckles, struggling to not to start counting them. When Remus turns his head a bit to the side, Sirius has a vision of his hooked nose, and his full and expressive eyebrows are breathtaking.

"It counts, I guess," Sirius shrugs, "I wish I had a sibling, too."

***

"Tell me all!" Lynde says excitedly.

She– he, Sirius mentally corrects himself — Sirius was taking Lynde's concern with his gender seriously, and they were "testing" genders for him — was waiting for him in his flat. He had got Sirius' text from the middle of the date, and he, as the great best friend he is, was there to support Sirius with his post-date-overthinking.

"Okay," Sirius sits by his side, making himself comfortable on the couch, "He was there, looking all pretty with those freckles and his nose and eyes and—"

"Black, shut up about his looks and talk about the date."

"Fine. Sometimes I think I talked too much, and sometimes I think I talked too less," he explains, "But he smiled a lot, and he blushed and laughed. Perhaps it was nice, Lyn. Maybe I was nice."

Remus did, in fact, smiled, blushed and laughed. He likes chocolate and dogs, even though he doesn't own one. Remus teaches Astronomy, and it's ironic that Sirius, named after a star, was very enamoured by an Astronomy teacher.

Sirius is overthinking, he knows he is, and he's got to relax, because maybe he was nice enough. So he lays on Lynde's lap, and he caresses his hair, twisting the strands around his finger.

"I'm sure you were nice, Sirius."

Chapter Text

Taking Harry back to Lily is always heart-breaking, so James wants to be with his son as much as he can. And the traffic on the way to his parents' house was impeding it.

It is not that he doesn't stay with Harry, he does, just not in the evenings, unfortunately. But after work, James drives straight to his parents' house to see his son. And when they're home, James and Harry have a lot of fun.

Harry is always smiling, and he babbles at everything James says, trying to answer. His son can understand simple commands, like yes or no, probably because Lily and Effie are the best at teaching things.

Because of Harry, James is sober for a whole week, and his head aches. Of course, he had drunk alcohol, but not enough to actually get drunk. And his whole body ached.

A pain in the back of his eyes keeps him awake at night, there are nights where he mostly stands by the kitchen, staring at the fridge, remembering about the bottles of wine and gin in there. But he also remembers Harry, so he keeps his hands to himself as his mouth gets more and more dry.

He tried drinking more water, to make that desire for the alcohol disappear, but it didn't work. James always ended up laying with his back on the bed, waiting for the pain to leave his body, but that never comes, so he just lies more comfortably — as far as he can with the pain — and manages to sleep.

As he gets closer to the house, he shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and desires. He parks the car and steps out, heading to the door.

Coming inside of the house, he finds a known place; he grew up in that house, with caring parents and family. James is trying his best to give his son what he had, so he puts a smile on his face and walks to meet with his parents and Harry.

At the sight of him, his mother smiles widely, and that's enough to make his chest warm. Harry looks at him, too, clapping and laughing. James approaches them, hugging his mother and then taking Harry in his arms.

"Did you miss me, Haz?" James asks, kissing Harry's face, and his son laughs harder. He turns to his mother. "Mum, where's Dad?"

"He went to the groceries," she tells, "We're making a good Friday dinner, you should stay."

"It's hard to say no, Mum," he jokes in a chuckle, "Of course I'm staying."

She walks towards him, kissing his cheek. "Harry was great, but your father and I can't leave him for a second, or he starts crying."

"Yeah, Lily said that, too. I've never seen it, I don't leave him alone at home."

"It sounds like we're hurting the poor boy," James chuckles, holding Harry closer.

***

The dinner was great, his Mum never disappointed him in the kitchen. She loves cooking for people, especially to the ones she loves, like James or Monty.

Now, Harry is sitting on a child car seat in the back of the car, shaking a toy and laughing. James is driving them to Lily's building, with Harry's bag on the front passenger seat. They have no problems in the way, except from James' mind, that shifts from thoughts about alcohol to thoughts about Regulus.

Even with James' call to Pandora, Regulus hasn't shown up, which almost confirms that Regulus simply didn't want to see James. James will get over it, he barely knew Regulus, anyways.

The thing is: Regulus was fascinating; and even though James barely knew him, James wanted to know more about him. All the things he has done, what he wants to do, everything.

Tomorrow, James will go to Sirius' show with Remus, and he hopes that that can be a good place to relax a little bit. And drink, of course. James is giving a ride for Remus, but James very probably won't be able to drive home, because he doesn't even try to drive after drinking.

They arrive at Lily's building, and she's already waiting for them. James steps out of the car with Harry and the bag, walking towards her.

"Hi, Lils," he greets, "I came to drop this big boy."

Lily chuckles, taking Harry in her arms, and then the bag. "I'm seeing it. How was he this week?"

"Good, as always. And I think he'll be a menace when he starts to talk."

"If he's like you, he will surely be."

Sirius is not too anxious for this show, and James is coming tonight, so it's not like he'll be alone with Remus.

James is not staying with his son this week, so he can attend the show, and Sirius might have another company other than Remus. It is not that Sirius doesn't want to be with Remus, but he always gets sweaty and nervous near him, so another person might make him less nervous.

So Sirius does what he is supposed to do. He gets there and spots Remus in the first minutes after he steps on stage, and James is by his side. He sees Sirius looking at them. He elbows Remus and laughs, and Remus just shakes his head softly, without taking his eyes out of Sirius. Sirius' cheeks hurt from smiling even when he looks away, and he says something for the crowd, and they applaud, cheering for him.

He starts his show, playing Time of the Season, which the crowd sings along, clapping along the rhythm every now and then. Occasionally between songs, Sirius gazes at Remus, who doesn't unlock their eyes, and Sirius can feel his cheeks heating and his heart drumming his chest. He moves his hips while he sings and plays, and he crowd cheers and wolf whistles when he holds a note for a bit longer.

To finish, he ends with In My Life, and that small song is what he needed. He loves The Beatles, and the band has the best songs for ending or starting his shows.

"I know I'll never lose affection," he sings, "For the people and things that went before…" Sirius looks around, and he spots James at the bar, talking with Fabian and taking a glass with a drink in his hand. After looking to the same spot from before, he finds Remus.

"I know I'll often stop and think about them," Sirius is the one singing, but he just can look at Remus' lips moving along the words, and Sirius barely can speak the next line. "In my life, I love you more."

That verse repeats once again, and Sirius ends the song with a fancy finger picking and a cool chord in the end, making the crowd go loud, but Sirius just can look at Remus clapping; clapping for Sirius, which is better than any money he can get for the shows.

He steps out from the stage, placing his guitar inside the case, and basically running to the bar, almost sure that Remus will be there. Sirius finds James first, and Fabian is already refilling his glass with a drink, probably gin.

"How are things, James?" Sirius asks, looking around for Remus.

"Things are fine," James answers, and the words almost get lost on his tongue, because he drinks and finishes the glass with a large gulp. Maybe — but just maybe — things are not very fine, but Sirius will not take any conclusions.

Sirius doesn't care if he looks crazy while he looks for Remus. That man is super tall, how can he be so hard to find in a crowd? He jumps scared when someone touches his shoulder, and he's more than happy about seeing Remus looking back at him, with his hand resting on Sirius' shoulder. Sirius smiles, mirroring the smile on the other man's face.

"Hi."

"Hi," Sirius mumbles, already breathless. Remus sits on a high chair in front of the counter, and Sirius follows him. "Did— did you like the show?"

"It was great, starboy," Remus says, with actual stars in his eyes. "You're great."

James chuckles softly, smiling. "Cheeky flirt, you are, Remus," Remus shushes James at the moment the words come out of his mouth, and James just looks away and says something to Fabian.

Sirius starts a conversation about the week, and Remus shares a bit about his classes and his students. Remus teaches Astronomy, as Sirius already knows, and he says more and more about it and his years at University, when he was in his students' place, studying the sky and the galaxies. Of course, Sirius already knows about the stars and galaxies, he has read a bunch of books about it, all because his Mother asked— no, commanded him to.

They were talking and sharing stories, Remus' are about classes, and Sirius' are about shows. And they almost forget about James by their side, and they just remember him when he starts to get messy.

His voice tone is a bit higher than usual, and he is smiling more, but not in a funny way, more like in a drunk way. James is definitely getting drunk, and Sirius looks at Remus, who doesn't seem surprised by it, so he just looks back at Sirius' eyes and shrugs, gazing back at James, looking at him up and down. That look is more worried than rude; that look has an immense care.

Remus looks like he doesn't know exactly what to do, so he sighs, locking his eyes with Sirius again, going back to their last conversation topic. Sometimes, Remus' eyes flicker to James, who is sitting behind Sirius, and he doesn't blame Remus for that, James just gets louder and louder. Every now and then, even Sirius looks back at James, just to make sure that he's still there and he's not doing anything too reckless.

Sirius can't know for sure if that is frequent, but because of Remus' reaction, he can assume that that's not the newest thing. James stood up quickly, making Sirius look back at him. He walks towards Remus, and sits down on the chair behind him, and now Sirius can look at him, but Remus has to turn around to do so. Over and over again, James asks for Fabian to fill his glass, and the bartender seems a bit concerned, maybe without knowing if he should do his job or stop James from getting too drunk. But the glass keeps being filled, and James keeps swallowing it.

Remus and Sirius' interaction moves from talking to looking back at James, who is trying to talk to a random guy on the counter, but his words sound a bit tangled and his eyes are glassy. Sirius is starting to talk about the guys and girls that try to get in his pants after (or before) the shows. Thinking better, that's not the best thing to talk about with a guy he's very interested in, so it's kind of good when James leans to whisper something in Remus' ear.

Sirius can't discern James' words in Remus' ear, but he can see that Remus cannot understand a thing that he's saying either. James looks back again, excitedly telling something to the random guy by his side, but in a high tone that makes Sirius flinch a bit. Remus breathes deeply, looking at James, making him stop his half-shouting.

"James, slow down in the drink," Remus tells calmly, touching James' inner arm.

"But— but why?" James grumbles, knitting his eyebrows together.

"It's enough for today," Remus seems to be holding himself from snapping. "We can… uhm… we can…"

"Remus," Sirius calls, half-whispering, "just take him home, it's fine. He needs it. He'll just keep drinking and it'll get worse."

"You— you sure?"

"A hundred percent," Sirius nods, signaling to Fabian to give them the bill, and of course James is the one who drank the most, Sirius and Remus with only one glass each, and it was filled once or twice. "I can pay for all this."

"It's too much, Sirius," Remus shakes his head, getting up. "I can't let you pay for these many drinks."

"I don't mind, really. Just take him home and sober him up."

Remus seems reluctant, but he's already gripping on James' wrist, ready to take him away. "I— uhm…," Remus' words get lost somewhere, and Sirius gets up in front of him.

Sirius embraces Remus, and he accepts it easily. It's quick, but it lingers between them. Remus eyes shine when Sirius pulls away, and then Sirius leans closer one more time. A little peck on Remus' face, that was really meant to be on his cheek, but Sirius is not sure of why his lips lay on the corner of Remus' mouth, kissing almost half of his lips. Sirius' mind races, immediately regretting, because he wasn't thinking about trying to kiss Remus — not now at least. But Remus looks surprised, and a shiny smile forms on his lips.

"Th— thank you," Remus says, blinking, "For the— for the drinks, I mean. And the show, too. It was— it was great."

"It's my pleasure," Sirius mirrors Remus' smile, just like he did earlier. Remus nods and holds James' arm, taking him away. That grip wasn't tight and the taking away wasn't a dragging away, it was gentle and careful, and Remus doesn't seem to be complaining at all.

Now, Sirius is almost sure that that behavior of James was frequent; or at least frequent enough for Remus not to be completely lost. Even so, Remus seemed lost for a while, maybe it was just worry, or maybe it was because of embarrassment. James was being loud and messy, which is not uncommon for drunkenness, and Sirius has seen a lot of it along his life.

So, when Remus and James are out of sight, Sirius turns to Fabian and pays for the drinks, like he said he would. Fabian makes a joke about how Sirius acts near Remus, saying that he seems scared of him or something like that.

"I'm interested in him, not scared," Sirius waves him off, and Fabian chuckles, and Sirius finishes paying the bill. "Piss off," he jokes, looking around.

He doesn't know why he's still looking for Remus, Sirius knows he's already gone, but he can hope a little bit, waiting for him to come back.

It doesn't happen, no matter how much Sirius wishes, so he calls Lynde, telling her that he's going home.

Chapter Text

When Regulus finally has time to sit down for a second, Pandora calls him.

His arms burn and his wrists don't seem to be able to move at all. He moves his shoulders, and they crack as he does it. The puppy that has been following him since he adopted her is sniffing his feet and trying to bite his sock, but he stops her from doing it, taking her in his arms, placing her on his lap.

Narcissa chuckles, still gently rocking the baby, who sleeps peacefully on her shoulder. Regulus could make Draco calm down for a while and now he's passed out in his cousin's arms.

Regulus rubs his face when his phone buzzes, and he grunts even before he locks at the screen. He looks at it, and he sees Dora written in it. All his friends know that Cissy had her baby, and they just have been calling him from time to time to check on him, so a call like that isn't completely unexpected. He grabs his phone, picking up the call.

"Hey."

"Hi, Reg," Pandora greets him, "How're things?"

"Fine, as far as possible," he shrugs. "Draco just fell asleep."

"That's great," she says, and she extends her silence for a few seconds, and Regulus doesn't say anything before she starts talking. "So… that guy you told me about, the one that you met in a cafe… James, right?"

"What's it with him?" The name punches him, because they haven't talked in days. Also, Regulus never even told Pandora James' name, how could she possibly know it?

"He called me through the number on the puppy poster," Pandora explains, "And he asked about you."

"About… me?" Regulus knits his eyebrows together. James asked about him. James asked about Regulus.

"He said you weren't going to the cafe lately, and said he was worried about you. Then I told him about Cissy and Draco."

His grip on the phone tightens, and Regulus sucks a deep breath, blinking fast. He must be hearing it wrong, because that's not fucking possible. He and James had talked for a week, and only in the cafe, because Regulus kept forgetting to ask for his number. It's not his fault, they keep talking and everything around Regulus seems to stop. Even when James has to shift his attention from Regulus to a customer, it still feels like the world has stopped moving.

Their talks turned into a certain kind of friendship, but with this complicated week that it has been being, Regulus could not find time to go out. Even so, Regulus keeps remembering James and all the stuff he shared.

"Oh," it's the only thing he breathes, even though he could say a lot more. Narcissa — who probably can't hear what Pandora is saying, and even if she could, she wouldn't know who James is — is looking at him, with worry printed in her eyes.

Regulus wants to run back to James, apologize and ask him if what Pandora is saying is true. He swallows, staring at his lap. His nose burns, and he rubs the back of the puppy's ear. No matter how much he wants, he can't go to James, not now. He has Cissy and Draco now, and he can't leave them. Taking care of a new-born is difficult, and Regulus will not let his cousin do it alone, not when he can help.

He was the person she called when her ex-husband, Lucius, showed indifference in her pregnancy, and Regulus was the biggest supporter of their divorce. Lucius did not deserve Cissy, she's way more than him, so they're sure that the divorce wasn't a mistake.

"Thanks for telling me, Dora," he says, feeling his stomach turn around and around. Regulus shoots a smile at Narcissa, only to tell her everything's fine, even though he's not very convinced that she'll believe him.

"Anytime, Reggie. Call me if you need anything," and then the call is over.

He places his phone back where it was, and before he can say anything, the puppy stands on his lap, with two of her paws on his chest, and he starts to smell and lick his face. He laughs, patting her back.

"Fine, I'll give you attention," he tells in a chuckle, holding her closer.

"What's her name again?" Cissy asks.

"Adhara. Like the star."

She hums, "The second brightest star in the Canis Major constellation? Reminds me of something."

"Funny, it doesn't remind me of anything," he looks at her, and she has a smug smile on her face, because Regulus does know what it reminds her, and it reminds him, too.

"Oh, yeah. Of course it doesn't," she starts to walk towards Draco's room. "You don't want to call him at all?"

"He hasn't, why would I?"

His question has no answer, because Cissy is too far to answer him, and because his question doesn't seem to have an answer at all. The question is basically rhetoric, because there is no reason to call anyone who doesn't seem to want to answer it.

The wooden chair cracks when James tiredly sits on it. He looks around to the familiar flat, but a flat that isn't his own. It's Remus' flat, but James feels comfortable in it as if it was his.

From the table, James can see Remus in the kitchen. The smell of coffee finds his nose, and all he wants is to taste the liquid, hoping that it'll make his eyes lose their heaviness. Remus turns around with two mugs with coffee, and he places one of them in front of James before sitting on a chair.

Smoke comes out of the mug, and the smells reminds him too much of his work, and it reminds him of Regulus, too. It's the smell of his coffee, the one he always asks for. He doesn't eat while he drinks, once he said that it ends with the experience of drinking coffee, but James honestly thinks that it actually complements the experience.

He told Regulus that, and he shrugged with a hum, sipping his coffee after it. The shrug wasn't rude, nor the hum, because James could see the smile on his lips, almost completely covered by the cup of coffee in Regulus' hand. James is pretty sure that he was trying to hide the smile, and it was lovely, and it just made James' stomach flip over and over again.

James grunts when he catches himself smiling at the memory. He picks up the mug, bringing it to his mouth. He doesn't know what annoys him most, the taste of the coffee, bitter and bad — which is not the way he likes it — or the smoke that makes his glasses blurry, and he has to take them off to clean it.

"C'mon, Lupin. You trying to poison me?" James starts to clean the glasses with his shirt's hem, and the bitter taste of coffee remains on his tongue.

"That's how I take it in the morning, mate. Besides, I didn't know how you liked it."

James puts his glasses on, and now he's able to look at Remus and actually see his face. "We've known each other for years, how could you not know?" Remus only shrugs, drinking in his own mug, stone-faced. James raises his eyebrows at him, not knowing how he could do that.

Remus orders a cappuccino with cinnamon when he goes to the cafe, usually at lunch, and James didn't know he was able to drink coffee with no sugar. James' is sweet, so bitter is not the way he prefers it. Even so, James forces himself to drink it, without wanting to bother Remus with anything else. He's already let James sleep there after Sirius' show and— oh. James does not remember how he got into Remus' flat.

He remembers watching the show, and halfway through it, he saw Remus staring into Sirius' soul while he sang, and he decided to go get a drink and leave Remus to admire Sirius. He remembers the nice bartender who he doesn't quite remember the face of, but James asked for some gin, and he filled his glass. Also, James doesn't remember paying, so it hurts in his chest to think about Remus paying for the amount of alcohol James might've drank.

Before James can keep his thoughts racing on his mind, Remus cleans his throat, catching James' attention. He looks at him, and Remus' eyes slowly meet James'. "You… probably don't remember too much from last night," he starts, and James starts to bounce his leg. "It's okay. I just want you to know what it was like."

Remus gives a small smile, and James doesn't feel like it is an attack, maybe it wasn't that bad. "You were a bit… loud. It was that type of loud that I didn't know if I laughed or rushed to shut you up." James groans under his breath, looking down to his lap and placing the palm of his hand on his forehead.

"God. I— I'm so sorry," his hand goes through his hair, probably making it more messy than it already is.

"That's fine," Remus' voice is almost a whisper, "I just… I don't want you to keep doing that to yourself. You don't see how messy you get, but I do," James places his hand on the table, in case Remus wants to reach for it, but he doesn't do it. "I've known for basically my whole life, James, and that was not you. What I saw yesterday night? Not you at all, and I care too much about you to pretend that everything's fine."

It hangs between them, and all James wants to do is cry. His chest tightens, and he bites his lower lip in shame, nodding at Remus' words, because talking feels painful. James doesn't know what's wrong with him; he's disappointing his best friend, the one who has seen him at every occasion. Remus was always with him, at the good and bad moments, and now he was disappointed at him.

James turns back to his coffee and drinks it, and the bitter taste of it and the blur on his glasses don't even bother him anymore.

Chapter Text

Sunday is fine, Sunday is cool. But the sharp noise of a baby crying is killing him.

The sun of midday lights the living room through the windows, and a small rainbow crosses the wooden floor. Adhara sleeps somewhere in the house, because they can't hear her barks or her nails clicking the floor as she walks.

Poor Barty and Evan, who decided to come to Cissy's house yesterday to check on Regulus and help with Draco, now they have to hear that should that can make their ears bleed. They are quite used to babysitting, because they used to babysit Luna a lot, and they still do it when Pandora asks. But Luna is very quiet, lost in her own head, just like her parents; Draco's cries are loud and they take ages to know what he needs.

Narcissa insisted that the boys slept in her house, because the house had a big enough couch for the both of them. Now Regulus is sitting on the couch where Evan and Barty fell asleep last night, with one leg pressed on his chest, and the chin on his knee, Evan is by his side. Regulus has tried to calm Draco down, but he wasn't successful in it, so Narcissa is trying to do what Regulus couldn't. She's rocking him on her arms, shushing him, but the cry doesn't seem to be near from stopping.

Regulus can hear plates and cutlery clanging in the kitchen, where Barty is, very probably doing the dishes. Draco grabs Narcissa's shirt, right on her chest, and his little legs kick the air. His cousin shushes him, whispering something about hungry and tired. She starts to walk away with him, murmuring and humming. Regulus grabs his phone, scrolling the screen, and he doesn't even know what he's waiting for.

The cries don't stop, they're just not as loud and constant as before, maybe Narcissa found out a way to make Draco calm down, at least a little bit. It's not over yet, he can still hear screams and bubblings, but apparently Draco is slowly calming down. They are used to it already, maybe a full week and two days, and they have been handling it well. The baby is being fed, he's being treated well and, most important, he's being cared for. Cissy's goal was to not to be like their family was; she wanted to break that cycle, and raise her son as best as she could. Regulus is sure she's doing great. Cissy is a good mother and—

"What happened to your face?" Evan's voice makes Regulus snap his head up, looking at his friend. His next reaction is to cover his face with a hand over his cheek. They're alone in the living room, and the sound of cutlery is decreasing in the kitchen, making him hear Evan almost clearly.

"What's wrong with my face?" Regulus studies Evan's face, and his eyes are alarmed, worried. His eyebrows are raised, and he seems to be biting the inside of his cheek.

"It's— Are your cheekbones. You lost more weight," Evan scoots over, getting closer to Regulus, "You good?" He asks, raising his hand to touch Regulus' face.

Evan's fingertips brush on his cheek, but before they can touch his skin farther, Regulus grabs his friend's wrist. His eyes widen, but the worry remains in his eyes. Regulus sees his fingers around Evan's wrist, and his skin folds with ease when he does it. He wonders if that would happen to Regulus', but he doubts. At the thought, he tucks his free hand under his shirt, hiding his bony hand.

Regulus can feel the tension on his eyebrows, and he is aware of his heart almost coming out from his mouth. If he pays more attention, he can slightly feel Evan's pulse on his palm, and it's fast and constant, just like Regulus' must be.

"You've been eating?" Evan tries to move his hand forward, fighting with Regulus' grip to try to touch his face again. Regulus doesn't let him, keeping his hand away and tightening his grip.

Now, his nails dig into Evan's skin, and the other man's pulse can be noticed easily under his palm. He doesn't fight back, but he moves again, backwards this time, and Regulus lets it go as he looks away from his friend. He wishes he could look at Evan for longer, to know what he is seeing differently in Regulus' face. Surely, he's tired— exhausted, even. Draco is not an easy baby, so eating is not his first priority.

His first priorities have been Cissy's well-being and Draco's adapting. And he's pretty sure he's being a good helper and Cissy's being a great mother. Draco is sleeping more, and now he is being fed more easily, he doesn't fight too much against it.

The cries are finally over, but it doesn't mean that Draco is sleeping, so they will keep their eyes open, waiting for anything he needs. Regulus would give an arm and a leg to know if James would know what to do in this situation. He might know, because James himself has a son, and he has been where Regulus is, but Regulus will not go out today. Besides, it's Sunday, the cafe is probably closed (or James is not working).

So he keeps sitting, his phone forgotten, only the tension between the two men hanging in the air, and it's not over when Barty comes in, finishing drying his hand on his trousers. He looks away from him, too, because looking at him means looking at Evan. He hears his friends sharing a kiss, and the couch sinks a bit more with Barty's weight on it.

Regulus gazes at the ceiling, with one hand still underneath his shirt. He hears Barty whispering something in Evan's ear, he can't exactly catch the words, but he knows it might be something about him.

Cissy walks in, with Draco resting his head on her shoulder. He's not sleeping, his eyes are open, and his face is calm and peaceful, Cissy did a miracle to get him to quiet down. She's smiling when she comes in, but it slightly leaves her face when she looks at them, clearly noticing that something is off.

"What you want for lunch?" Evan asks everyone in the room, his voice uncertain and quite breathless. "I can cook." Regulus knows he cooks well, and he cooks when he's stressed. But more probably, he's going to cook because he knows that Regulus hasn't eaten enough.

Regulus doesn't answer, and he lets the rest of the house decide what they want for lunch. Their voices are muffled to his ears, so he will have to wait until the food is ready to know what it is.

***

The smell of pasta finds his nose, and it is really good.

Regulis watches Barty holding Draco, whispering something funny to him from time to time, and he laughs every time.

The rest of them are sitting at the dining table, and Cissy and Evan are putting the food on their plates, and Regulus only watches. Evan keeps glancing at Regulus and his empty plate, but he keeps quiet, finishing to fill his own plate. His cousin doesn't seem to be realizing what is happening, she doesn't notice Evan glances, and Regulus keeps looking at the food with an empty stomach.

Regulus doesn't want to be told to eat, even though he is hungry. The food plus Evan's glances are basically an order for Regulus to eat, and he does not want to be told to do it. He knows he should, but he doesn't want to be controlled, even though it means to keep hungry and starve. He is stone-faced, biting the inside of his cheek, avoiding Evan's eyes. Eventually, Narcissa looks at him, too, but he keeps his expression, and she looks away, taking another bite.

He runs one of his fingers on the plate's hem, and he sees how white his hands are, and he notices the slight redness on his knuckles.

"Regulus," he hears Evan saying, and his eyes meet with his friend's.

He lifts his chin, but not to be above Evan, he just wants to gain courage to talk back with whatever he will say. Regulus hums, slightly raising an eyebrow.

"You gotta eat," Evan says, just like Regulus thought he would do. "I know you haven't."

Regulus scowls at the assumption, even though it's true. "That's none of your business."

"It is, 'cause you're my friend," Evan's tone is gentle, but something twitches inside of Regulus. Evan's tone is gentle, but he's still commanding him to do what he wants Regulus to do.

"You'll not control what I do or don't," Regulus crosses his arms in front of his chest. "I've been controlled enough."

"It's not control, Reg, it's only care," Evan says, and Regulus' appetite is suddenly gone. He pushes the plate forward in mere centimeters and abruptly gets up.

The first second is fine, but the next one is full blindness. Regulus knows he's conscious, he just cannot see. Black dots in his vision turn into a full blackness, and he blindly searches for something to hold onto. He might've grabbed the corner of the table, because the noise it makes sounds like cutlery.

Right before he can see again, there's a hand on his back. It's warm and tender, and it's helping him not to fall on his knees. His head spins as he gains vision again, and he presses his free hand on his forehead, feeling it heat on his palm. Regulus opens his eyes — and he didn't even know that he had closed them before —, and he also gets his other senses back.

He hears Barty shushing, and he realises that he's shushing Draco, who looks scared and confused at the same time. Evan's voice is still inaudible, but Regulus knows what the hand holding him is his. He slowly raises his head, locking eyes with Evan. The other man's gaze softens, but Regulus' chest is not less tight.

"I've got you," Evan whispers, resting a hand on his shoulder, while the other keeps soothing his back. "Sit down and eat. You need it."

Regulus' eyes widen, and his nose is burning, so are the back of his eyes. He tries to look away from Evan, but his eyes keep going back to him. His lips tremble, and Regulus has to bite them to stop it.

He tenses his shoulder, uncomfortable with the heat of Evan's hand on his skin. Regulus presses his lips on a thin line, and he knits his eyebrows together, keeping his feelings to himself. He steps back, and then he sits, letting his legs rest, along with the noise of the chair cracking.

"I'm not doing this because you commanded me to," he leans to tell it to Evan, his knuckles white from holding the edge of the table. "I'm doing this because I feel sorry for you."

"What's important is that you're eating," Regulus half-rolls his eyes, looking back to the empty plate. "Can I fill your plate?" Evan asks, and Regulus shrugs, not wanting to think about it.

Evan does as he said he would. But he doesn't actually fill Regulus' plate, he places a bit of pasta on it. Not a mountain of it, just a little, and Regulus does not ask for more, because he himself knows that he won't eat more than what is on the plate now.

Regulus takes a fork and starts rolling the pasta in it. Evan sits back down, and he can feel his eyes on him, but he just ignores it.

He takes the first bite, and it feels like heaven.

Regulus knows that Evan's food is good, he has eaten it before, but this is different from anything he has ever eaten in his life. Not even the fancy foods he used to eat at family functions when he was younger can be better than this. He has to hold himself back from moaning as he chews, and he also has to keep his face relaxed, to prove Evan that he's not that hungry.

The sun of the end of the afternoon hits Sirius' face, and the soft wind makes his hair fly over his shoulder.

Lynde is by his side, walking in the sidewalk, holding their hair from going into their mouth. They're in a park, because Lynde said that it would be nice for them to go for a walk after the show yesterday, when James got worriedly drunk and Sirius half-kissed Remus — that decision was kind of driven by the alcohol in his body. At least Lynde was happy for him and cheered, and it made him feel a bit better.

The walk is silent, and Sirius' mind always runs back to the prior day. He had texted Remus this morning, and apparently James is fine, he said it was a long week for him, so Sirius didn't say anything else. Remus didn't mention the kiss, and he hopes that he doesn't even remember that, but he doubts, deep inside of him.

Far away, Sirius can see a lady with a little girl by her side, and they seem to be walking towards them, and the child is smiling brightly. She seems to be six or seven years old, and her clothes are colourful, with the planets of the solar system. Lynde must have seen them, because they gasp excited. When the lady and girl get closer, they stop by them, and Lynde opens a big smile.

"Hi, Emma!" Lynde says, crouching a bit to get near her size. "Mrs. Vanity," they turn to the lady, smiling, "it's great to see the two of you here." Sirius is confused for a second, but then it clicks, and he realises that Emma is one of Lynde's students.

"Hi, Ms. Lupin!" Emma says joyfully, with a giant smile and sparkles in her eyes. She looks at Sirius and slightly squints her eyes. "Is this your boyfriend?" She innocently asks Lynde, and Sirius snorts, looking away, and he can see that they are holding their laugh.

"No, he's not," they tell in a chuckle, gazing at Sirius. "He's just my friend." It's not uncommon that people think they're a couple, so they mostly deny it and ignore it.

"Why? Does he smell bad?" And that's when Lynde cannot hold their laugh anymore.

They shake their head, laughing softly. "No! No, he does not," they stand up straight again, "He's just my friend."

Mrs. Vanity chuckles, holding Emma's hand. "Emma speaks very nicely of you. It's great to know that our children are in good hands."

"It's so good to hear this," Lynde places a hand on their chest, smiling. "I'm honoured to have her in my classroom, she's a really great girl."

The lady smiles gently, "That's great!" She exclaims, then she turns to Emma, "We're heading back home. Say goodbye to Ms. Lupin."

Emma waves at Lynde, with a grin from ear to ear. "Bye! See you tomorrow, teacher!"

Lynde waves back, and Emma and her mother leave, walking peacefully. Sirius and Lynde walk some steps ahead before Sirius speaks.

"You're not bothered by being called Miss? It's very…ladylike," he asks them, wondering if that is the right thing to ask.

Lynde thinks for a second, but then they take a deep breath. "I think I don't mind when the children call me that," they look at him, with full sincerity in their feature. "Maybe because they're too young to understand, or maybe because… it's like it belongs to the children. When they call me Miss or when they see me as a girl, it's— it's like it belongs to those children I care for so much."

Sirius locks his eyes with theirs, nodding. He smiles, tucking his hair behind his ear. Lynde seems happy, more than before, he can notice it clearly. He hadn't noticed when it left their eyes, but he can see it now that it is coming back. They had told them that using they was cool, because it wasn't one nor the other, it was in the very middle. Some days they feel differently, and Sirius has no problem in knowing when that happens.

"And your little boyfriend, uh?" They tease, grinning, and Sirius shakes his head, unable to keep his smile.

"He's not my boyfriend," Sirius tells them, then he adds, "yet."

Lynde laughs, throwing their head back. "What's his name? Oh! Oh! You're going to throw a fit only to tell me how incredible he is and how his name is profane. Am I right?"

"Very funny, Lyn. I don't throw fits. And I won't tell his name, I don't wanna jinx it," Lynde snorts and shakes their head, walking forward.