Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Well, that didn’t take long,” Pandora said with a huff. She flipped her tablet around to show him an online article from The Daily Prophet. “Not surprised they leaked it, but I expected more than just speculation and a click-bait headline. Shoddy work for Skeeter.” Regulus leaned closer and skimmed the blurb filed under “Celebrity News.”

      Celebrity News:  Classical Pianist Regulus Black Booted for Indecency

      Sources close to insiders at Orion Entertainment, Inc. revealed to The Daily Prophet that award-winning composer and classically trained pianist, Regulus Black, was summarily terminated after a disturbing breach of the production company’s code of conduct clause. Until more details are available, his fans can only speculate what egregious act caused this stalwart team of professionals to sever ties with the nepotistic heir of head producer, Orion Black. When we contacted the London branch of Orion Entertainment, Inc. for a comment, a representative suggested the breach was due to “creative differences.” However, our sources hinted at a personal scandal.

      “I overheard Mr. Orion Black lecturing his son about a non-compete clause,” an anonymous witness stated. “Likely the old man found his son’s sudden success with songwriting objectionable. Although the real chaos erupted when Regulus’s debut album was scrapped indefinitely last month. Regulus was livid about it, as you can imagine, and carried on something awful in that meeting.”

      Regardless of whether the separation was due to a personal issue or a business decision, we at The Daily Prophet suspect that the 24 year-old prodigy will have little trouble finding new avenues to share his tremendous talent. As referenced by the anonymous witness, Regulus Black’s prominent social media presence is evidence of a well cultivated, loyal following. A spokesperson from Regulus Black’s new agency, Lionheart, has not yet returned our calls to comment. 

Pandora flipped her long, blonde braid over her shoulder as she dropped the tablet into her lap. “They didn’t actually call us for a comment, of course. It was an email that was sent twenty minutes before this was posted.”

“That tracks,” Regulus said, ignoring the hum of his phone vibrating for the third or fourth time. 

Mainstream media didn’t even bother to fact check, follow-up, or verify their sources anymore. Journalistic integrity was lost when online articles allowed them to “update” incorrect information later, after the damage was done. They’re all hacks.

Regulus twirled a pen over his fingers idly, attention focused on the television. He didn’t normally care for historical dramas, but Bridgerton drew him in from the first episode. Even now, several seasons in, it was just as captivating. The Regency era seemed so simple and quaint, with simpler problems than he faced today. Without the distraction of technology, people devoted their time to productive pursuits like art, music, literature, and…sex. That sounded divine to him.

While it was a painfully straight show, there were hints of queerness if he squinted. There were a number of same-sex friendships that held promise, and Regulus was holding out hope for a properly gay couple. Just one would do. Sapphic or Achillean, he didn’t care. 

Despite the heteronormativity, he had to admit that the existing tension and relationship dynamics were fascinating. His favourite episode featured a couple whose chemistry pulled them together against their will. While passing each other in the hall, they avoided eye contact, but their pinkies nearly touched. It was pure magic , and Regulus thrived on those subtle details. The scene made his entire body shiver with delight. When will it be my turn?

“You’re still on this?” Barty asked, plopping gracelessly on the sofa next to him. 

Regulus flipped him off, but didn’t look up as he tucked his feet underneath Barty’s leg. He was sure this was an important scene. Then again, every time two male characters faced each other on screen, he naturally assumed they’d end up snogging. It hadn’t happened yet, but it could theoretically, and he didn’t want to miss it.

Barty huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He would probably pout for the next ten minutes after being dismissed, but Regulus couldn’t spare the energy to care. The level of attitude Barty had subjected him to lately was exhausting, mentally and physically. He refused to shoulder the responsibility for Barty’s emotional burden. 

When the scene ended and nothing more than a heated argument ensued, Regulus sighed. So much for the enemies to lovers trope he had imagined. It was a long-shot, but he refused to give up hope.

Romance held a mythical status in Regulus’s mind. As often as he’d written about falling in or out of love, and as much as he longed for the deep, soul-shaking connection he often read about, he’d only had a taste of romance for himself. Just enough to implant the desire to chase after it. Just enough to tantalize him with hope.

He picked up the small, leather-bound journal in his lap and skimmed the lyrics he’d written so far. It was another sappy love song that perfectly suited the bland, blonde pop artist whose publicist commissioned it. At this rate, he may have to accept it as his specialty. Especially after he’d shredded his contract right in front of his father’s face. It wasn’t likely that he’d receive a request for a song that required actual skill any time soon.

“You hate this one, don’t you?” Barty asked, leaning over to peruse his notes. 

“Hate is a strong word,” Regulus replied, adding a suggestion for background vocalisations during the bridge. “I’m bored, that’s all. They want the same straight love at first sight lyrics with no technical difficulty in the music. There’s nothing interesting about it.”

Pandora hummed in vague agreement, but didn’t comment.

Barty curled his lip in disgust as he read aloud a section that Regulus had just finished. “Oh, did I say too much? I’m so in my head when we’re out of touch … What utter rot! Who are you writing for anyway?”

“None of your business,” Regulus snapped, tucking his journal against his chest. “Besides, I have to capture the performer’s style, not my own. It’s not my fault that she’s a vapid, pop princess wannabe. It’s a shallow song for a shallow personality.” 

Regulus was inherently defensive of his work, which Barty well knew. The prick was simply trying to stir him up, per usual. Ever since they had a tipsy shag over a year ago, Barty prodded his patience with growing frequency. Regulus hated this growing tension between them. It was nothing but impatience and anticipation on Barty’s part, with resentment and regret on his. They both knew it was a mistake to cross that line in their friendship. Although Regulus learned from the error in judgment, Barty seemed determined to repeat it.

“Mm-hmm, sure. It has nothing to do with your obsession with romance ,” Barty teased, whispering the last word as though it were a magical phenomenon. 

Pandora rolled her eyes. “Leave it, Barty.”

Fake. Unrealistic. Boring. That was Barty’s cynical view of love in general, and romantic gestures in specific. It stemmed from his own insecurity with being worthy of love, Regulus was sure. They had plenty in common on that front, to be fair. Both of them had parents who were stingy with affection, and had a severe lack of childhood friends as well. 

That didn’t mean Regulus had given up all hope and was ready to forfeit his chance at finding love. It could still happen.

“There’s nothing wrong with romance,” Regulus said, kicking Barty’s leg and sliding to the other end of the sofa. “Some of us have the emotional capacity for a relationship, while others can’t keep their hands out of their own pants.”

Barty glared, then shoved his entire hand into the waistband of his trousers out of spite. It was truly disturbing how devoted Barty was to handling himself. Surely there were better uses for his time. 

“If it bothers you so much, the least you could do is help me out?” Barty suggested, his hand mimicking a stroke up and down under his trousers. “I’d be happy to let you have at it.”

“No. Now piss off. You’re ruining my show.” Regulus pointedly refocused on the television. 

“Why not? You don’t have a clinger at the moment.” 

Regulus ignored him, watching the beautifully adorned couples dancing around the ballroom instead. He couldn’t help critiquing the actors’ dancing. A few performed the waltz well, but several of the extras fumbled the turns. He hadn’t particularly enjoyed the ballroom lessons he was coerced to take as a child, but at least he wouldn’t make a fool of himself on one of those ludicrous celebrity dance shows. Not that he had any intention of agreeing to a reality show of any kind. That was a sure sign that the celebrity’s career was over.

“Come on, Reg. Why can’t we have a bit of fun?” Barty asked.

“I’m neither pissed nor desperate,” Regulus replied flatly, gaze firmly affixed to the screen. 

“No need to be a cunt about it.”

Pandora waved dismissively from the armchair. “Leave him alone, Barty. He’s allowed to be prickly today. The bastards at Orion Entertainment leaked his contract dispute to the Prophet.”

Barty’s scowl shifted to a dark glower. “What I wouldn’t do for ten minutes alone with Orion fucking Black. I’d show him what it’s like to have a boot on his neck.”

Which was a perfect example of why Regulus tolerated Barty’s crude behavior. Very few people could honestly say that they weren’t afraid of his father. Orion Black was the primary owner of the most powerful production company in London, but Barty had never been afraid of him. In fact, he’d made it a personal mission to defy overbearing parents like his own.

There was another loud, repetitive hum from his mobile, which Regulus had purposely left on the nightstand in his room to minimize distractions. It had helped for a while, until he remembered there was a new episode of Bridgerton to watch.

Evan opened his bedroom door and leaned into the sitting room. “Your mobile’s driving me up the fucking wall, Reg. Just answer it already.” His glance slid to Barty, and he scowled. “Seriously? At least have the decency to do that in your room while my sister’s here.”

“I’m not doing anything!” Barty pulled his hand out of his pants and held it up. “See? Clean. It’s just a comfortable way to sit. Pandora doesn’t even care, you two are prudes!”

“I promise you, I’m not paying any attention to Barty fondling himself,” Pandora said dryly. Barty pointed at her as if she had defended him instead of proving Evan’s point.

Regulus lifted to his feet and stretched his arms up, ignoring Barty’s admiring head tilt. “I wonder if it's Dorcas. She mentioned we may have plans this weekend the last time I talked to her.”

His agent, Dorcas Meadowes, was working overtime to sell his songs and secure new clients since his career had taken a wild left turn. He’d planned to launch a proper solo career by now, but with the death of his debut album and the threats of cancelled performances, everything else was on hold for the foreseeable future, or at least until the heat died down. Regulus was indebted to Pandora and Dorcas for taking a risk on him, and working so hard to keep his career alive. 

Where would I be without them? Busking on a street corner?

“I don’t think so,” Evan replied, rubbing a hand over his head. “It was Queen.”

“Sirius? That’s odd. We talked last week,” Regulus said, collecting his journal and pen.

Pandora didn’t look up from her screen. “He probably saw the article and is calling to commiserate. You could ask him to join us at the pub tonight, if we’re going.”

Before Regulus could respond, Evan laid into Barty again. “Crouch, I spend my entire day around athletes, the pinnacles of masculinity reeking of testosterone. Yet, I’ve never seen any of them fondle themselves as openly or as often as you do. You have serious boundary issues, mate.”

“Boundaries are for the boring and bland,” Barty replied. He gave his crotch a lewd squeeze, then leaned into the sofa and tucked his hands behind his head. “Kinky bastards like me fuck around to find out. Besides, why are you keeping track of my fondling habits, Rosie?”

Evan blinked, then spun around and left the room with a barely noticeable flush heating the dusky skin on the back of his neck. He didn’t mind playful banter, but Evan preferred to keep his sex life private. Regulus appreciated that about him, especially since he’d managed to shame Barty into pulling his hand out of his pants.

Regulus returned to his room just as Queen burst out into song again. His brother insisted on setting ‘Killer Queen’ as his ringtone when they’d secretly reconnected last year. It had been a random, unplanned reunion. After three years of uni, and much needed time away from their parents, Regulus found the courage to track him down. They’d met up occasionally –and secretly– since then, but most often texted. He reached for his mobile, but before he could answer it, the song stopped. 

“Impatient much?” Regulus grumbled, glancing over the absurd volume of calls and texts that overwhelmed his notifications. 

Opening a long series of messages, he scanned for a mention of the article. Instead, Sirius had asked Regulus to check out his band, and pleaded with him to attend a performance. His brother had also sent a video file along with the messages. 

Sirius: Remember when I mentioned being in an alt-rock band? 🎶🎸🎶 

Sirius: Well, I think we’re ready to take it to the next level! You have to come see us play. 

Sirius: We’re really bloody good too! You’ll love it, I swear. 🤞

Sirius: Here, I can prove it: <video file>

Sirius: I know you’re busy, but it would mean a lot to me. Please, Reggie? 🙏

Watching a mid rock n’ roll band would certainly be a nice break from writing for mid pop stars. Regulus paused with his thumb hovering over the link on his screen for a moment. He could practically hear his father’s warnings about getting involved with Sirius.

Don’t associate with rubbish or you’ll be tossed out as well. Sirius never cared about anyone but himself. Cavorting with him publicly will ruin your good name. Think about your future! 

Eventually, he gave into his curiosity and played the video. A loud burst of guitar riffs and thundering drums echoed in his room. Regulus nearly dropped his mobile as he scrambled to lower the volume. Alt-rock was decidedly not his preferred genre, which Sirius well knew, so he was baffled by his brother’s claim that he would love it.

As his thumb moved to close the video, a shirtless, bronzed Adonis approached the microphone and began to sing. He was breathtaking. His tall, muscular figure and broad shoulders were on full display, and the man was entirely shameless. The bloke tousled his dark curls playfully, then looked down at the camera and smirked. 

“Merde, he’s fit,” Regulus whispered, plopping belly first onto his bed and staring at the screen. “I want to eat him.”

The camera panned over the rest of the band a few times throughout the song, capturing a glimpse of Sirius and a heavy-set bloke in the background before drifting back to the lead singer. Sirius was on drums, ever the attention whore, while the blond fellow stood behind his keyboard. He appeared to be decent on the instrument, at least, but it was an odd configuration. A percussion-heavy three man band? Why?

When the camera returned to the Adonis, Regulus bit his lip hard. The man’s voice was husky with a heavy rasp, perfect for the angsty song about a one night stand. Everything about him exuded pure, unadulterated confidence. With a voice like his added to those broad shoulders and a well-defined chest, the man was sinfully satisfying to watch. 

Adonis closed his eyes and basked in the spotlight while he strummed his guitar through an instrumental bridge, fully surrendering to the music and the emotion behind it. When he sang, the lyrics seemed to be clawing out of his soul. That is the kind of artist I want to write for. One who needs music to survive, like me.

Standing on a shabby pub stage, the Adonis blazed bright and bold in the middle of it all. He eclipsed the rest of the band and drew enchanted looks from the crowd. Regulus needed to meet him, as soon as possible. Please be queer. Please, please be queer.

Regulus replayed the video a dozen times, admiring the bloke and noting any tiny details that could offer insight. This one video offered far too little, but he made a valiant effort to study it anyway. The only definitive clue to his identity was a sunburst tattoo around Adonis’s belly button, which he wanted to trace with his tongue. Regulus needed to know more, right now. 

He texted Pandora to avoid Barty’s intrusion in their conversation. The last thing he needed was that twat weighing in on his new hyperfixation. Sirius hadn’t mentioned the name of the band, but if anyone could find them, it was Pandora. As expected, she responded in under a minute.

Regulus: <photo> Sirius is in a band with this bloke. Can you find out more?

Pandora: I did a reverse image search on the lead singer. They must be an indie group because there isn’t much on them. I did find this one picture on the website for The Black Dog pub though.

The picture she sent made Regulus’s mouth fall open. All three members of the band were in the photo, and the lead singer was center stage. He was shirtless here too, but the photographer’s angle was much lower. With his wine red guitar slung low over his hip, the bloke’s body was twisted away from the audience and toward the drum kit. His head was tilted back toward the ceiling and sweat glistened off of his warm brown skin.

“Another tattoo,” Regulus breathed out, gently tracing the antlers that stretched from shoulder to shoulder on Adonis’s back. There was a cluster of lilies where they met in the middle, rather than a stag’s head. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. “Fuck, I want him.”

Pandora sauntered into his room and shut the door, pinning him with a smug grin. “All right, ‘fess up. Who is he, Reg? Where did you find him, and how long have you been lusting after him?”

“You know everything I do. He really is in my brother’s band,” he assured her, projecting a calm that he definitely didn’t feel. “Sirius sent me a video of them playing and asked me to come watch tonight. I wanted to see if you could find more information before I agreed to it. You know how he is, both impulsive and evasive.”

She plopped onto the bed beside him with a sigh of relief. “Oh good, because I couldn’t find much. I need the band’s name to find them on social media, but it wasn’t even listed on the pub’s website. The Black Dog is using that image on their main page for marketing purposes, but never gives the band credit. They’re begging for a lawsuit.”

Regulus cleared his throat and tried for a calm tone, but the words rushed out anyway. “They’re unknown, so I can go tonight.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Pandora, I need inspiration, and I’m not going to find it writing for another vapid pop star. I want to see him in action. He’s inspiring,” Regulus insisted, pointing at his mobile screen.

“Please pull your head out of your pants! We don’t have time to run a background check on this man and Dorcas is already in a tizzy about The Daily Prophet article. If someone snaps a photo of you devouring this man in the back of a shitty pub—”

“Make time,” Regulus suggested as sweetly as possible, amused by her huff of annoyance. “You and I call the shots now, remember? I’ll finish up this song for my client, then we can go together. And I promise to keep my hands to myself. This is simply a favor for Sirius and a tiny bit of aesthetic appreciation for me.”

“You better. No touching until he signs an NDA at the very least.”

“Obviously, I’m not an idiot,” he agreed, pushing himself upright. “I’ll call Sirius and get the details. I have a good feeling about this one.”

“The band or the bloke?” she checked. 

Regulus bobbed his head side to side, then shrugged. “Both.”

“He may not even be queer,” she warned, her voice stern. “You’d better not get attached until I have a chance to research him.”

“All right, fine.”

Pandora retrieved her tablet and laptop to set up a makeshift work area beside him on the bed. She was a no-nonsense sort and had an off-putting presence that kept most people at arm’s length. Propped against his pillows, she released her hair from a tight plait and fanned it out around her shoulders. She looked rather comfortable in her long, boho skirt, oversized knit crop top, and the white tank top she wore underneath.

This was as close to business casual as Pandora could manage, but he didn’t care. She was his best friend and stepped in as an impromptu manager and publicist when his world turned upside down, so he was thrilled to have her on his team. Besides, it was helpful to have someone who deflected a little attention away from him in public, and Pandora’s affinity for strangely coordinated outfits definitely drew stares.

“Professionalism can bite me,” was her typical response when Evan teased her about looking “unprofessional.”

Watching her eyes flick frantically over the screen as she continued searching for pictures of the band was entertaining. The back of her tablet was covered with vinyl stickers that said, “don’t fuck with the fae” and “dolphins are the frat boys of the sea,” which Regulus loved. Her device was a fixed extension of her arm, as much a part of her aesthetic as the bangles on her wrists and her long, dangling strawberry earrings.

“Call Sirius,” she prompted, fluttering her fingers in his general direction. “Get me a time and place for this god-awful performance, at least. Oh! And a band name.”

Regulus pressed Sirius’s name in his contacts. The mobile rang twice before his brother picked up, and his voice sounded slightly panicked. To be fair, Regulus didn’t call him all that often. He preferred texts, but this was time sensitive. 

“Reggie? Is everything all right?” 

“What? Oh, yes. I’m fine,” Regulus said calmly. “I saw your texts and thought I’d call and see what tonight’s plan actually entailed before I give you my answer.”

Sirius breathed a deep sigh of relief, the dramatic git. “Good, good. I was a bit worried when I saw that Prophet article. Wasted no time slandering you, did they?”

“No, but I knew they wouldn’t once it was made public.”

“Mind telling me what ‘disturbing breach of the company’s code of conduct’ finally tipped them off that you were a degenerate?” Sirius teased.

Regulus caught Pandora’s eye roll and huffed a laugh. “No comment.”

“Killjoy.”

“Trust me, it’s stupid and you don’t want to get involved. Now, what time is tonight’s performance? And where?” Regulus asked impatiently.

“The Black Dog at eight.”

“Ask him about their socials,” Pandora whispered. 

“Hmm? Oh, Pandora wants to know if you have social media accounts for the band,” Regulus relayed. “She and Dorcas are coming too.”

“Is she there? Let me talk to her.” 

Regulus handed the phone to Pandora and rested his chin in his hand. He was nervous now that this was actually happening. In a few hours, he may meet the gorgeous man from the video and potentially be seen in public with his rebellious older brother. So much for that stellar reputation that our parents valued more than life itself.

He tamped down on a giddy flutter in his belly at the thought. Pandora was right, he couldn’t get his hopes up yet about this Adonis. With his luck, the bloke was either straight or preferred men who were also built like Greek Gods, rather than nerdy music prodigies. Regulus may have enjoyed a game or two of lacrosse in secondary school, but he didn’t spend his free time in the gym then or now. He preferred a far less regimented routine that included his sofa and sitcoms.

“Hello, Sirius,” Pandora said, tapping at her tablet while she shouldered his mobile. “Look, I found the band’s image on the Black Dog’s website. Please tell me there is more than that. It’s an impressive marketing strategy, but the management is a bit shit. The pub didn’t even list your band name.”

She paused, then her bright blue eyes blew wide. “What do you mean you don’t have a band name?”

Regulus dropped his head onto his arms and muffled his laughter. Leave it to Pandora to describe his lusting after the lead singer of his brother’s band as commentary on a “marketing strategy,” then shame Sirius for his band’s lack of a name. It was too much.

“Mm-hmm, send me those links as soon as possible.” Pandora said in exasperation, nodding slowly. “Right. That sounds great, Sirius. Bye.”

“Marketing strategy?”

Pandora ended the call and slid his mobile across the quilt. She quirked an eyebrow at him and shrugged. “Well? It sounds better than ‘your little brother desperately wants to shag your bandmate,’ right?”

“Yes, thank you,” Regulus replied flatly. “I hate when I’m like this, but I can’t help it. Now that I’m aware he exists, I need to know everything about him. He’s so…”

“Stupidly fit,” she finished, chuckling to herself. “I do have eyes.”

“Exactly,” he breathed out, collapsing back on the bed. “Be honest with me, Panda. He’s going to hurt my feelings, isn’t he?” 

She pursed her lips in thought, then pointed at him. “We never walk in blind, Reg. You know that. If you’re fully prepared, you can play anything off as a joke.”

“Why does everything sound like a battle plan with you?” 

“Because it is,” she replied curtly. “Now, we need their socials so we can figure out who we’re dealing with here.”

“It’s not necessary to dig out every skeleton in his closet, Pandora. I just fancy him, that’s all. It’s unlikely this will go anywhere.” Regulus flushed as his own words sank in. “I don’t even know his name!” 

“Probably should have asked Sirius.”

“No, no. He’ll figure it out too quickly if I ask him outright,” Regulus refuted. He grimaced as he rubbed his temples. “I don’t want him to take it the wrong way.”

“Which way is the wrong way…exactly?” 

He huffed a laugh. “All right, fine. I don’t want him to take it the right way. At least not until I have a chance to speak with the Adonis first.”

“Adonis? That’s a bit much, even for you.”

“I stand by it,” Regulus insisted, flailing his hands at the ceiling. “Did you see his chest? Those shoulders? Fuck me.”

A loud chortle from the doorway made him jerk upright. Evan was leaning on the frame with his arms crossed over his waist. “You always were a fan of big titty blokes. Who is it this time?”

Pandora smirked at her brother and held up her tablet. Evan let out a low whistle and raised his eyebrows. He glanced over his shoulder warily before nodding at Regulus with a bemused grin.

“You’re not wrong. Feeling ambitious, are we?”

Regulus’s meager rally of confidence shattered instantly. Leave it to Evan to bring him right back down to Earth when he’d allowed his hopes to soar. He ducked his head and pulled at a stray thread on the quilt. “He’s friends with my brother, so I figured…worth a shot, right?”

“Evan, don’t be a prick,” Pandora scolded.

“I’m not! That man is a stretch for anyone, even me,” Evan said, holding his hand out. “Let me see him again, Dora.”

She held up the tablet as Evan crossed the room for a better look. Regulus waited anxiously as he studied the image. Evan was around fit athletes every day and had a far better eye for identifying queer men than he did. 

After a long silence, Evan clicked his tongue. “Sorry, mate. I’d say he’s straight and taken. That tattoo is giving ‘I added flowers for my long-time girlfriend’ vibes.”

“Oh. Right.” Regulus twisted his rings and looked away. It was better to hear it from Evan now than be rejected outright from Adonis himself, he supposed.

“I see the appeal though, he’s–” Evan began.

“What appeal?” Barty asked, barging into the bedroom. He crowded behind Evan and narrowed his eyes at the screen. “Who’s that?”

Regulus’s head snapped up as defensive anger bubbled up in his chest. The thought of Barty tainting the beauty of his Adonis was infuriating. “No one! He’s no one. Just a fit bloke.” 

“Bullshit.” Barty’s shrewd gaze flicked to him, then back to the tablet. He tipped his head and worked his jaw from side to side as if deciding how best to dismember the man.  

Pandora snatched her tablet from Evan and waved them away. “Piss off, both of you. I’m allowed to admire fit blokes without your approval.” 

Barty scoffed, “You? Pffft.”

Evan shoved Barty’s shoulder and forced a chuckle. “She can fancy whoever she likes, arsehole. Leave her be.”

“Both of you are shit liars. Who is he?” Barty asked, turning on Regulus.

Regulus met Barty’s jealous scowl with an unimpressed glare. “Fuck if I know.”

It didn’t matter if Barty made a scene over this bloke. Evan sounded pretty bloody sure that his Adonis was straight, so if Regulus had to admire him from afar and swallow his disappointment, then so did Barty. He didn’t have any sort of claim on the man, after all. They’d never even met.

Barty relaxed his stance and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, all right.”

“Anyway,” Pandora interrupted. “Reg and I have plans with Dorcas tonight. Don’t wait up.”

Evan nodded, then patted her head patronizingly. She swatted at him and he twisted away. Despite the teasing, the Rosier twins were fiercely protective of each other. They reminded him of what his relationship with Sirius used to be, actually. 

Like Evan, Sirius’s go-to tactic was to impulsively sacrifice himself. Sirius was often loud and obnoxious to distract attention away from Regulus when he was little. He tended to make himself a human shield of sorts, for those he cared about. 

Regulus and Pandora used different tactics. They were both cautious, skeptical types, but unafraid of confrontation when necessary. While Pandora preferred research and preparation, she wasn’t above petty retaliation. Regulus chose to disable or deflect, most often with a knife.

Whereas Barty was a prick who embraced his chaos without qualms. He was fun when it suited him, but generally he reminded Regulus of a rabid raccoon, foaming at the mouth and half-crazed. When he was angry, he punched walls, shouted, and threw anything that he could get his hands on. He’d even tossed people, if they were in his way. Barty was possessive, crude, and slightly disturbing.

Yet, somehow, Barty was also the linchpin to their friendship group. His deviancy pulled each of them from an abusive home. He lured them out, then refused to let them go back. Barty was essentially the embodiment of an age-old bully’s taunt, “Now, what are you gonna to do?” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The pub was busy, loud, and reeked of unwashed bodies. One look at the intoxicated crowd proved that Regulus was severely overdressed. Most people wavered on the verge of indecent with holes in their jeans and stains all over their t-shirts. He’d attempted casual with the most flattering black jeans he owned and a slim-fitting emerald button-up with the sleeves rolled up, but he’d failed dismally. Among this lot, he stuck out like a black rose in a poorly maintained garden.

Regulus stayed close to Pandora and Dorcas as they weaved their way through the crowd, but far too many eyes bore holes through his back for his comfort. Pandora led them to a small booth near the back of the room. It had a good view of the small stage, but was as far from the amps as possible and fairly private. He offered her a grateful nod as he slid in next to her. 

A waitress brought their drinks out before greeting them, so presumably Pandora had called ahead. Often, she did whatever she could to speed up public appearances. Not that he was in a hurry to leave tonight. Regulus fully intended to enjoy himself, even if it was oppressively warm in the overcrowded pub.

When the band finally appeared on stage, Pandora dug through her giant purse and handed him a small box. He pressed the custom ear plugs in his ears and pocketed the container. Regulus was relieved to see the crowd’s chaos calm a bit once the band stepped up to the mics. 

“Hey, hey, Black Dog!” Adonis greeted the crowd, flashing a bright smile.

Regulus didn’t bother covering a small smile that slipped free. He knew from experience that the audience was essentially a shadow realm from the stage. With those bright lights shining in his eyes, it was unlikely the lead singer could identify anyone in the crowd, unless they were in the front row.

A raucous cheer from the completely bladdered fans returned his greeting. Several hands went up and the lead singer either clasped them with a grin or swatted at them playfully. He seemed to have established a camaraderie with his fans. Playing at small venues like this made performances feel innately intimate, and tonight, Regulus joined their revelry.

“Let’s start with a fan favorite, shall we?” Adonis suggested. The crowd shouted suggestions until the bloke pointed at someone in approval. “That’s the one I had in mind!”

As he began strumming his guitar, a drumstick flew into the air over the lead singer’s shoulder. His brother attacked the drums with a passion that perfectly embodied Sirius in Regulus’s mind. Every beat vibrated through the walls, the floor, and the air. The steady rhythm reset his heartbeat to match. The keyboard player joined in last, adding in a mix of instruments to the backbeat. The music penetrated his pores and surged through his veins. It was exhilarating! 

This is what I should be writing. Music that lights me up!

The lead singer’s voice was even grittier in person. A growl bounced around the room as he all but chewed on the microphone. His emotions were raw and splayed openly on his face with startling abandon. Suddenly, the music stopped while he and Sirius sang the chorus a cappella. The harmony of their voices was chilling, and sent a shiver up his spine. 

Regulus was mesmerized when the singer began rocking with the beat. His blue jeans were slung low on his hips and his red t-shirt was bunched up behind his guitar, showing a sliver of warm, brown skin.

"Fight so dirty, but you love so sweet.
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth.
Late-night devil, put your hands on me.
And never, never, never ever let go!"

James woke up sprawled across a back seat with his head propped up on the case for Sirius’s high hats. He blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of his surroundings for a full minute before it hit him. The black panel van with deeply tinted windows that Sirius bought with his inheritance, that’s where he was. It took him quite a bit longer to piece together why he was in the second row of the band’s van.

Right. We played at The Black Dog last night. 

The Black Dog was one of the few pubs that happily fed their hired bands booze all night, likely so they’d voluntarily play longer than they were paid to perform. James had no idea how many drinks he’d had the night before, but it was enough to muddle his mind, make his mouth dry, and fill his eyes with grit. A low moan from the front seat and a snore from the cargo area confirmed this was a joint venture into van camping. We are living every musician’s dream!

James didn’t remember collapsing, but he hoped they packed all the gear this time. He wasn’t worried about his guitar. Even black out drunk, James hung onto his Gibson like the lifeline she was. It was the amps and cables that they constantly left behind. A solid half of James’s career as a musician was spent on cable management. 

“Sound off if you’re alive,” James rasped, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. He shoved off the black leather jacket that was thrown over his chest like a blanket. Confirming he had both of his best friends within reach was top priority. “One.”

“Two.” Sirius said, scoffing when his jacket landed on his lap. “Jacket thief.” 

The snoring continued until James reached over the seat to jiggle Peter’s leg. “Oi! Are you alive, mate?”

Peter stirred, then blinked blearily. “Hmm, what’s that?”

“Sound off,” James prompted.

“Three…I think?” Peter said, rubbing his hands over his face. “Am I dead? Is this what death feels like? If so, I’d like a refund.”

Amused, James patted his leg in solidarity. He too felt like death warmed over. Smacking his chapped lips, James looked around the van for his water bottle. It was usually in his vicinity, if not his hand. 

Spotting his knapsack wedged between the front seats, James leaned forward and rifled through it until he found the insulated sports bottle that he’d carried since uni. Thankfully, it was still cold, so he took a long, fortifying swig. His stomach roiled in protest, but he ignored it. The water was soothing to his throat after a night of excess. 

“What do they put in those drinks?” Peter asked as he rolled over and tried to sit up. “And how did I end up in the boot?”

“Dunno,” James said between gulps of water. When he’d finished the bottle, he reached for his bag again and found his glasses in its case. Frowning, he waved a hand in front of his face. “Damn it, I slept with my contacts in again.”

“No more talking,” Sirius grumbled, his head barely visible in the gap between the headrest and the seat. Sirius always had the worst hangovers between the three of them. His tolerance was fairly high, but his body mass was lower than James and Peter’s, so it took more drinks to get him properly wasted. Therefore, he suffered the consequences every time.

James fished out his contact case and quickly removed the plastic lenses that had suctioned onto his eyeballs overnight. That explained the grit in his eyes, at least. He hated wearing contacts, but on stage it wasn’t feasible to wear his glasses. They slipped off his nose constantly and fogged up if the room got too warm, which was often at a packed pub.

“Do we have everything?” James whispered to Peter, peering over the back seat. Although the cargo area had clearly been hastily packed, it looked appropriately full. 

Peter hummed as he surveyed their gear. “Looks like it. Your guitar is here, my keyboard, and one, two, three…”

As Peter took inventory of Sirius’s drum kit and the PA system, James crawled between the front seats to check on Sirius. He was curled up in the fetal position —or his best attempt anyway— and his hair was a mess. The acrid stench radiating from him was a sign that he’d been ill at some point, but James didn’t see any sign of it in the van itself. Hopefully, Sirius managed to get the window open first, or better yet, made it to the loo in the pub.

“Here,” James whispered, holding out his back-up water bottle. Tepid water was better than nothing at all on a morning like this. “Drink up. You’re dehydrated. I’ll find Paracetamol.”

Sirius groaned, but he accepted the water and sipped it slowly. When handed pain tablets, he downed them without complaint. “Thanks.”

James clumsily climbed into the driver’s seat and searched for the keys. He and his mates needed food and proper rest to recover. Crashing in the van was not ideal, but better than driving pissed. 

“Keys…there,” Sirius slurred, peering through one eye as James followed his gesture. Snatching up “The horrors persist, but so do I” key chain, James started the van. 

“Looks like everything is here,” Peter said. He crawled over the back seat, flopping with an oomph as he landed. “Bloody hell, I hurt everywhere.”

James reached over Sirius and buckled the seat belt over his curled up form. “Same, Pete. I need a shower and food to feel human again.”

“Do not ever mention food in front of me again.” Sirius pulled his jacket up over his head and groaned miserably.

Luckily, the ride to their flat was smooth, except for when an arsehole on a lime green motorcycle cut them off twice. James had ridden with Sirius on his bike a fair few times and couldn’t imagine taking the risks this prick did. As exposed as riders were? The bloke must be suicidal!

While Peter helped Sirius hobble up the front steps, James set to organizing the back of the van. They had reserved time at the practice hall —-an empty warehouse with a makeshift stage and questionable power supply— for Tuesday and he didn’t want to waste any time searching for the bloody cables. Of course, when he was buried in the unraveled remains of the night before, his mobile rang.

James lunged over the back seat to retrieve it from his bag, which he immediately regretted when his stomach threatened to revolt. “H-Hello?”

“Hey, are you okay?” Lily asked, her voice tense.

“Lily, hey. Yeah, rough night.”

“After playing at The Black Dog? You’re lucky you didn’t die.” She chuckled lightly, echoing her girlfriend’s amusement in the background. “Anyway, I’m bringing Remus to your next practice.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” James winced, trying to place the name. “Remus? Oh, the bassist I met yesterday? That’s great.”

“Tuesday at six, right?”

“Right.”

When she ended the call, James flung his phone at the back of the driver’s seat and scrubbed his hands over his face. Every time he thought he was over their break-up, the emotions flared anew. It wasn’t regret, or even resentment. He wanted Lily to be happy, and Mary made her happy. Deliriously happy, really. 

James just couldn’t understand why it was so easy for her to walk away. As if the last two years meant nothing, when it was everything for him. He returned to his inventory, wishing he could numb the sharp pangs of regret. 

It wasn’t easy to be with him, and he’d accepted that. After pursuing her intently for over a year, she’d finally agreed to a date. While their relationship was intense and passionate, it was far from stable. He and Lily were both stubborn, competitive, and equally determined to get the last word. A terrible combination, it turns out.

When the band gained momentum, their growing fan base began picking apart their personalities and relationships. Sirius received some heat for his family’s problematic background, their lead singer, Fabian, was exposed as a serial cheater, and James’s relationship was dissected by jealous twats online. It was mad how deeply motivated fans were willing to go to expose vulnerabilities. As if the people who claimed to love them were determined to own them.

They saw James’s complicated relationship as “toxic,” and immediately blamed Lily. As a result, Lily’s photography business suffered under a barrage of fake reviews and she was doxed. Once they had her phone number, a group of jealous twats flooded her text messages with rude comments and caught quite a few in person too. 

He’d blamed himself for the situation, and tried to call off the band’s fans, but nothing worked. Ultimately, James refused to give up on the band. So, when Lily had enough, she gave up on him. At least, that’s how it felt at the time. With a little distance, he recognized it wasn’t that simple. That didn’t make it any easier to lose her though. She deserved better.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The warehouse that they’d hired out for a practice space was eerie and empty, abandoned ages ago by a defunct logistics company. Through an invitation to a rave, Sirius found the shit-hole and suggested renting it out. They just needed an isolated space and electricity, but lucked out when the ravers left a stage crafted from old palettes and a lockable storage cage behind. The only tricky bit was running adequate electrical lines to it.

Overall, the space did the job. It had a wide open area on one side of the stage and they’d attached the storage cage on the other. A short hallway led to the front of the building, but they rarely used that door since the side entrance faced the car park.

Their practice hadn’t even started yet, and Sirius was already scheming ways to “fix” their newest problem. The initial excitement surrounding a new local band had waned after Fabian left, and they needed to continue to “create buzz,” according to Peter. James didn’t like the sound of that, especially after the damage caused by the previous explosion of attention.

“Sirius, you need to get him on board,” Peter insisted. “We can’t keep doing covers and expect to blow up.”

“I know that.” Sirius lowered his voice and leaned closer to Peter. “I can ask, but I don’t think he’ll do it. We’re not as close as we used to be, and we don’t have much to offer him. The fact that he came out to see us last night is a big win.”

James eyed the two of them curiously. “Who are you two whispering about?”

“His brother is a songwriter,” Peter explained, nodding at Sirius. “Bloody good one too. I think we should hire him.”

“Which brother is this? The piano twink or the social media prick?” James checked, frowning as he adjusted his guitar strap. 

“Yes,” Peter answered, cackling with laughter. 

“I only have one brother,” Sirius corrected, pulling out his mobile. He tapped on the screen, then turned it around to show James. “See? He was officially freed from the family’s clutches last week, but we’ve been quietly chatting for a while.”

James leaned closer, squinting through his lenses. “He’s a bit young, yeah?”

In the photo, the chap pictured was practically Sirius’s twin. They had the same angular cheekbones and black hair, though his brother’s was cropped at his chin instead of draping over his shoulders. The boy in the photo couldn’t be more than eighteen, and both brothers looked miserable.

“It’s an old photo,” Sirius replied, pulling the mobile back. “I kept tabs on him after I left, but he had to cut contact when I was disowned. Reggie had nearly finished uni when he finally reached out again, so I started texting with him. We’ve met up a few times since then to talk and watch movies. Nothing deep though, just surface level shit.”

James nodded, but wasn’t really interested. He didn’t like discussing Sirius’s family. The whole lot of them were rich, pretentious twats as far as he was concerned. This prat likely has his nose stuck so far up his arse that he can hardly breathe.

“The important part is that your brother wrote three viral songs!” Peter exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “His social media presence is wild. The videos he posts look like fan edits or movie trailers, but it’s just his everyday life spliced together to music. His music. Regulus Black has millions of followers on all of his platforms. Imagine if we could appeal to a small piece of his audience!”

“I’m not saying that he isn’t wicked talented, Pete. I'm saying he has no reason to join us. We don’t even have a band name anymore, or a proper manager, and he has a three person management team,” Sirius said, tapping at his screen. “Not to mention, we can’t play much more than shitty covers without a bassist or using backing tracks.”

“Nah, I found us a bassist,” James muttered past the pick in his mouth. “He’s an old friend of Lily’s from Wales.” Tweaking the tuning pegs, he strummed the strings of his guitar gently. “That’s better.”

“When was this?” Sirius demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

James leaned down to plug his guitar into the amp. “Last weekend. I told you that Lily was bringing a friend by the flat while you were out with…what’s his name again?”

“Dirk Cresswell,” Sirius supplied, tipping his head to the side. “He was an excellent snog, but a shit conversationalist.”

“Did he really need to talk much anyway?” Peter teased, reaching out to budge Sirius’s shoulder. 

Sirius smirked. “No, but after a nearly silent brunch, it was a pleasant surprise to find he was so… orally gifted when we got back to his flat. Could have been worse for a one-off.”

“Skip the dinner next time,” Peter suggested, “or order in after. Maybe he gets nervous in restaurants.”

“Can we start practice now? No offense, Sirius, I don’t need a play by play of your conquests,” James said. He’d lost all interest in dating after Lily left and avoided Sirius’s favorite dating apps like the plague. The idea of hooking up with someone his best friend may have already dated made him queasy. 

Sirius leaned his stool back on two legs. After a pointed look at James’s outfit, he scoffed, “If you’d bother making an attempt to look good, maybe you could pull your own conquests.”

“I pull just fine,” James replied flatly. He was not getting into this with Sirius again, even if he was lying through his teeth. “Besides, I’m too busy to date.”

Peter frowned. “Busy doing what? This is our whole career now, right? We are all in with the band, so we do the same thing. I don’t even look for hook-ups, but I still pull on occasion.”

“Don’t worry about it,” James said with a sigh. “I’m not going to find the love of my life at The Black Dog, so why bother? I’m good.”

“The ‘love of your life’…mate, pull your head out of your arse,” Sirius snarked, shaking his head incredulously. “You take everything so seriously.”

“No, I just don’t want to waste my time.”

“James–” Sirius’s retort was cut short by the loud, creaking hinges of the front door. It was followed by voices that echoed down the hall. 

James lifted a hand to wave out of habit. When Lily nodded curtly at him, he dropped his hand to ruffle through his hair and clenched his jaw. It was painful to watch her distance herself a little more every time they met. They’d agreed to be friends, but apparently that was not happening. This is not how friends act around each other.

Entirely unbothered, Lily continued her conversation with the new bassist. Remus Lupin was a tall, lanky bloke with sandy-blond hair, and he was fucking brilliant on his bass. When they met last week, Remus had impressed the hell out of James. He was the perfect fourth for their band. 

“Bloody hell,” Sirius breathed, his stool’s legs crashing to the floor. “Who is that?”

James followed his gaze to the bassist, then shook his head. “Down, boy.”

“You remember James,” Lily was saying, leading Remus toward their dodgy practice stage. 

Offering his hand, James smiled a little too congenially. It was the best he could do under extreme duress. “Glad you could make it, mate. Give us a practice or two for us to show you what we’ve got, yeah?”

“Good to see you again.” Remus’s Welsh accent was strong. The lilt in his voice gentled his words in a lyrical way. He shook James’s hand, then turned back to Lily with a cheeky smile. “If you think they’re decent, I’ll give it a go. I trust your judgment.”

Lily huffed derisively through her nose. “They’re decent musicians. Can’t say they’re decent people.”

Sirius flashed a bright grin at her, clearly delighted by the dig. “Always lovely to see you too.”

She winked. “Can’t play favorites, can I?”

“Sure you can, so long as it’s me,” Sirius returned, blowing her a kiss.

“This is Remus. He’s a talented bassist, decent vocalist, and shit person all around.” Grinning, Lily leaned up to pat his cheek fondly. “You should fit right in with these pricks.”

“Quit gushing, annwyl,” Remus huffed, shifting his case from one hand to the other. 

Peter stepped off the stage and offered Remus his hand. “Nice to meet you, Remus. Do you have a preference for rock genre? We play a bit of everything.”

“Ballads mostly, but I’m flexible,” Remus answered, shaking Peter’s hand.

“How flexible exactly?” Sirius asked. The unrepentant slag eyed Remus curiously. “Just for future reference.”

Remus shrugged. “Flexible enough.”

“Stop it,” James ordered, pointing at Sirius. “That was an awful line. You’re better than that.”

Lily rolled her eyes affectionately, then gestured at each of them in turn. “This is Sirius Black. He’s a smart-assed drummer, back-up everything, and as you can see, an obnoxious flirt. Over there is Peter, he’s great on keyboard and can pinch hit on drums if Sirius switches positions, but don’t ask him to sing if you value your hearing. James, who you’ve already met, is the lead singer and mucks about on guitar, but is a hopeless songwriter.”

Peter snorted. “Thanks for that, Lils.”

Sirius tossed his Zippo at James and laughed. “Yeah, what she said. Quit slacking, Potter! Write me a song already.”

“Piss off.” James picked the lighter up and flung it back at his face. Sirius dodged, then spun around and chased after it.

“Don’t pout, Jamie. It was a joke,” Lily called out, then prodded Remus. “He’s really sweet, but he takes things too personally.”

It had been six long months since the break-up and he still had to smother the urge to lash out when she was critical, or to childishly overreact when she was mildly condescending. Everything she said carved into him far too deeply. Even when she went out of her way to be kind, or at least temper her sarcasm, James saw daggers pointed at his heart. She called out everyone, not just me. Let it go.

He should be grateful that Lily hadn’t given him an ultimatum, or blamed him for the fans’ abuse. She could have taken out her resentment on him, which he probably deserved. Instead, she’d ended the relationship cleanly. 

James hated all of it. The break-up, this awkward backslide into a half-assed friendship, and her moving on with a new girlfriend was all shit. Lily was happy, and James was miserable. He shouldn’t care what she thought anymore. She’d forfeited the right to interfere in his life, so her opinion of him was moot. Less than moot. What was less than moot?

Sirius’s mobile blared an obnoxious pop song. He scrambled for his bag and dug through it frantically. “Fuck yes! Pete! It’s Reggie!”

“Reggie?” Lily asked. “I thought he was seeing Dirk?”

“Nah. That’s his brother. We’re going to get him to write for us,” Peter whispered, then turned toward Sirius. “Speaker! Put it on speaker.”

“Reggie…as in Regulus Black?” Lily checked, then whistled long and low. “That’s a long shot. He’s hot right now.”

James paused mid-strum, surprised. “You’ve heard of Sirius’s brother too?”

“He’s hard to miss,” Lily said with a shrug. 

What is she on about? Why does she sound so impressed?

Sirius answered the mobile eagerly. “Reggie? I didn’t think you’d call again so soon. Is everything all right?” 

“Sirius. Yes, I’m fine.” Sirius’s brother sounded annoyed, or possibly distracted. “What, Pandora?”

A woman spoke in hushed tones on the other end of the line, then the bloke scoffed. “No, I’m not–”

“Reggie, you know better than to argue with Pandora. Hand me over to her.” Sirius rolled his eyes and grinned, then promptly switched to the charming version of himself as soon as the woman’s voice came on the line. James envied how easily he could turn his charisma on and off. “How are you, love? What do you need?”

“You promised to send me social media links for the band, Sirius. I want them yesterday,” Pandora said flatly.

“Right, I’m on it,” Sirius promised, waiting five whole seconds before he tried his luck. “While I have you, what does Reggie’s schedule look like? Does he have any openings for commission work?”

Pandora’s voice purred over the line this time. “Oh, I think we could move some things around for you, Sirius. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I was wondering if Reggie would be willing to write a song or two for my band. We’ve been talking about recording an independent album for a while, and now that we have a bass player—”

There was a frantic sound in the background, but James couldn’t make out the bloke’s words. He was either being muzzled by Pandora’s hand or the mobile’s receiver was. Likely, he was turning it down. James couldn’t blame him. Sirius was asking a pretty big favor of an estranged, mildly successful family member.

“Reg says he’ll think about it,” she finally replied, but the emphasis seemed to be for Sirius’s brother’s sake. He probably turned us down flat.

“How can I help that thinking along?” Sirius asked sweetly.

Pandora hummed, then clicked her tongue. “Why don’t we come down to your next practice session and chat with each of you? Give Reg a chance to feel out your band’s vibe? See how well you get on?”

“All right, let’s do it. I’ll text you the address and time. Let me know what he decides. Bye.” Sirius rushed to get off the call, then dutifully tapped out a long message on his phone. “Well, that’s either a really good sign, or a well played kiss off.”

“What is?” Peter asked, clasping his hands together in a prayer pose. “Will he really think about it?”

“Yeah, pretty sure he will.” 

Peter clapped excitedly. “Yes! Let’s practice now. We can send him a video.”

Sirius shrugged. “Already sent him one. I’m thinking he wants to feel us out before he decides.”

“Or…maybe, he misses you?” Lily suggested. 

“Maybe, but somehow I doubt it. You know, Pandora mentioned yesterday that she saw a photo of us on the Black Dog’s website,” Sirius said, pausing his mad one-finger typing. “She said something weird about being impressed with our marketing strategy, but that our management was a bit shit?”

What the fuck does that mean? We don’t have marketing or management.

Remus pulled out his mobile and tapped the screen. His eyes widened marginally as he showed Lily the image. James suddenly realized what image they were looking at and quickly busied himself towing with his Gibson.

Lily glanced at it, then did a double-take. “Christ’s sake! Have you seen this, Jamie?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it,” James said, refusing to meet her eyes. 

Sirius wandered over to Remus and peered over his shoulder. “Oh. Oh! I get it now. Marketing, my arse.”

Peter followed, stepping closer to see for himself. “What’s the big deal? We were all bladdered that night, and most nights at The Black Dog. Sirius always shows off after he’s had a few, and James usually ends up topless by the end of the first set, alcohol or not. It’s practically part of our branding at this point.”

James’s lips twitched in amusement, but he kept his comments to himself. Peter had a point. Playing under the scalding lights overheated him immediately, so it was rare for him to keep his shirt on for the whole performance. Which seemed to be the main draw for most of their female fans. They can’t complain about that!

“When did you finish the tattoo, Jamie?” Lily asked.

James shrugged, but remained intently focused on his guitar. “Last month. I added the antlers when Sirius went in to get the paw prints on his chest and neck and Pete picked a little mouse for his wrist.”

“There was so much blood,” Peter shuddered. “James bled like crazy. It was disgusting. Though I still don’t know how he slept through the whole thing! Sirius was whining for most of his time, and it didn’t take nearly as long.”

“Only because I was bored!” Sirius retorted. He tapped out a few idle beats on his drum kit, then waved at Lily. “Go on, Lils. We’d better get started if we’re going to meld this Welsh boy into our sound in time to impress Reggie.”

“You do that.” She squeezed Remus’s arm and wandered back out into the hall. “Good luck, Remus! Don’t let them scare you off.”

Remus waved over his shoulder as he lowered his case to the floor. He quickly unloaded the stunning sapphire bass that James drooled over the first time he saw it. Remus moved silently around the stage to set up, while Sirius’s gaze followed him.

“Start with a bit of riffing, yeah? Just to get warmed up?” James suggested, strumming idly on his guitar. “Give us a beat, Sirius. We’ll improvise from there.”

Sirius’s drumsticks flew up in the air automatically as his foot hit the bass pedal. He snatched the sticks out of the air and began a flurry of beats for an opening, gradually settling into a steady backbeat. James picked out a simple melody on his guitar, nodding at Peter as he followed suit on the keyboard. 

Remus listened for a while before he joined in. His bass added depth to the sound, but more than that, it harmonized perfectly with James’s impromptu melody. 

“Shit, that’s sweet!” Sirius shouted, building up to a wild, free-form pattern. 

It was obvious that Sirius loved the power of the drums, the control it gave him over the songs they played, and the attention too, of course. He could have been the lead singer too, but turned it down, claiming he wasn’t prepared to lead the band. Especially when they’d decided to take a real shot at fame, no more fucking around just for fun.

James faced Sirius fully and did his best to keep up, his fingers zipping up and down the frets. He was rather impressive with the instrument when the mood struck him, if he did say so himself. Even if Lily didn’t appreciate his skill anymore. Long gone were the days of her cuddling up next to him while he practiced at home. Let it go, for fuck’s sake.

Behind him, Peter’s hands flew across the keyboard. He, too, was a seasoned performer. James and Sirius had sweet-talked him away from another band who treated him like shit in uni.

“Solos!” Sirius shouted, pointing his drum stick at James mid-beat.

James launched into a riff from one of his favorite songs, “Figure You Out” by Voila. He gripped the fretboard and strummed hard and fast over the strings. The amps blasted his guitar’s sound overtop of the softened drums and bass. When he’d had enough, he nodded at Peter to take a turn.

Peter flashed an eager grin. He flipped a switch on his keyboard and took over the same song where James left off. He bopped with the light beat Sirius offered, eyes focused on his hands. Then, Peter cocked his head toward Sirius, who immediately launched into a wild, chaotic pattern.

Sirius let out a loud whoop, throwing his head back and letting pure joy burst from his chest. Given the freedom, Sirius would run with it. He goon-grinned as his drumsticks flew across the kit with abandon. Finally, Sirius slowed to a steady beat and nodded at Remus to take a turn.

The bass player smirked, then began a complicated finger pattern that made Sirius’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. James laughed at him, thoroughly amused by his reaction. Remus’s audition had left him equally speechless. He was that good.

The drum came to a dead stop as Sirius stared, mouth gaping open. James tried his best to keep up with Remus, but fell short, dropping his hands in defeat after a few minutes of testing his lightning fast reflexes. He wasn’t sure when Peter stilled, but he was also gobsmacked when James threw his hands up in surrender. 

Remus continued, unfettered by the silence surrounding his rich, varied sound. Each note echoed through the warehouse, bouncing back like an eerie reflection of the incredible base line. Where did he learn to play like that?

Eventually, Remus glanced up. His gaze flitted from one to another. “All right, lads?”

“Fuck! That was…fuck!” Sirius exclaimed, spinning around on his stool before he jumped to his feet. He bolted forward and held his hands out eagerly for James’s guitar. “Let me try.”

James released the strap and handed it over without hesitation. Whatever protective instinct he had for the instrument would never apply to Sirius.

Quickly switching to drums, Peter pointed at James. “Sing some bullshit, mate. We’ll follow you.”

James turned the microphone stand around so he could watch them play. Peter began a steady, reliable beat, and Sirius followed, his hands elegantly sliding over the strings. He could play as well as James, but insisted that he preferred the drama of the drums. Finally, Remus joined in, watching Sirius’s hands intently to match him.

"Have you no idea that you're in deep?
I dreamt about you nearly every night this week.
How many secrets can you keep?
'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow..."

James crooned the lyrics, hands wrapped around the microphone. The music continued, and he made up nonsensical lyrics as they went. When he hit on a refrain he liked, he repeated it twice. 

"Crawling back to you.
Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?
'Cause I always do.
Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new.
Now I've thought it through."

Remus nodded along with James’s lyrics as a soft grin slid over his face. Sirius moved closer to James, leaning near the secondary mic and offering a callback to his lyrics with a smoother, more melodic voice, perfect for falsetto. James pointed at him in approval. Remus did say he liked ballads.

As Peter shifted to a faster beat, James winked at Sirius and changed the tone of the impromptu song. 

"Remember when you used to be a rascal?
Oh the boy's a slag.
The best you ever had.
The best you ever had is just a memory."

Sirius cackled. “You know it, baby!” 

James repeated the lines to amuse Sirius, then rolled into an echo of, “where did you go” as he paced the stage.

As the song faded out, Peter jumped up and grinned. “Hey, that wasn’t half-bad!”

Remus grinned. “Wasn’t expecting those vocals from you, Potter. Nice growl, mate.”

“Oh yeah, he’s a growly sort. The birds love it,” Peter agreed. “Do you sing, Remus?”

“A little, but nothing special. I can manage a bit of harmony though,” Remus said, nodding at James. “Try something softer and I’ll match you.”

A mischievous grin slid over James’s lips as he winked at Sirius. “Give me something real sweet, yeah?”

“Here you go.” Sirius strummed a soft, lilting melody, which Peter followed with a matching beat.

“Baby, I’m yours…” James crooned, smoothing out his voice as much as he could. It wasn’t enough to give the song the intended softness, but he hoped his attempt was good enough.

Remus rolled his eyes. “Laying it on a bit thick, mate.”

James repeated the line until Sirius and Remus joined him, harmonizing beautifully. Remus’s deep tone blended well with Sirius’s falsetto notes and James’s mid-range. 

He grinned at Remus at the end of the chorus. “That’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“I’ll say this. I’d shag the lot of you,” Peter teased, hopping up from Sirius’s stool. “Very pretty, lads.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Sirius as he handed the guitar back to James. “And he calls me a slag!”

Because the name fits, James mused. He couldn’t imagine pulling complete strangers as often as Sirius did. The idea of sharing so much of himself with someone who wasn’t invested made him uneasy.

All throughout practice, Sirius couldn’t drag his eyes away from Remus. He was practically drooling on his drum kit when the bloke randomly decided to harmonize with James. Remus hadn’t even spoken to Sirius properly and he was lusting after their new bassist already. 

James aimed a fair few warning glares his way. They’d lost their previous lead vocalist after Sirius’s last flirtation with a band mate. Not that Fabian was worth fussing over, but it meant that James had to step in as lead singer. Which I didn’t even want.

“All right,” James called out. “Let’s take a quick break and then play a few covers for practice. Oh, and we need to post something on socials this week.”

Remus released his strap and set the bass on its stand. He reached into his bag and pulled out a plastic water bottle. Sirius watched him chug it with unwavering interest, like a goon. 

“James, what if we—“ Peter began, leaning over his keyboard.

"A-B-C-D-E, F-U!
And your mom and your sister and your job,
and your broke-ass car, and that shit you call art.
Fuck you and your friends that I'll never see again.
Everybody but your dog, you can all fuck off."

Sirius nearly fell off his stool when his mobile went off. He scrambled for it, then frowned at the screen. James assumed he was befuddled by the sudden flood of calls from his brother. He’d guess that twice in one day was unusual, but three times in a week? Concerning. 

Tapping the screen a little too aggressively, Sirius answered the call on speaker. “Yeah?”

“That’s how you answer the phone? Yeah?” his brother snarked. 

Sirius rolled his eyes hard and flipped his hair over his shoulder. “I knew it was you, Reggie.”

“Anyway, I have a question…about the band,” Regulus said, his voice suddenly hesitant. “Pandora insists that I ask.”

Sirius tilted his head to the side and glanced at James, which was strange. It wasn’t his brother on the phone, why look at him? “All right. Any part of the band in particular?”

“I’m just curious what pronouns your group uses for songs,” Regulus replied, clearly ignoring his comment. “I know you’re queer, but what about the others?”

“Any pronouns work fine,” Sirius answered, purposely vague. “We aren’t picky.”

“Oh. Right,” Regulus replied. “Do you have a particular style, or just the noise you played at the pub?”

Sirius shrugged, then glanced pointedly at James. “Mostly alternative rock. Our lead singer’s voice fits that genre best. Though we could give rock ballads a go.”

“Elaborate.” 

“His voice is gravelly, or what did Remus call it…a growl? You heard it, right? Did you check the links to our socials? There’s more videos of our last few shows. You know, like I promised Pandora already,” Sirius replied testily. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, all right,” Regulus agreed, sounding profoundly disappointed.

Sirius cleared his throat and took the call off the speaker. With a sharp swivel, he walked off stage. “Just spit it out, you twat.”

James ignored the conversation and strummed idly while they waited. He wasn’t the least bit interested in this grand idea. The less contact they had with the members of Sirius’s shit family, the better. 

“So, can you tell if it’s good news or bad?” Peter asked, avidly watching Sirius pace along the back wall of the warehouse.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” James played a little louder, hoping to drown out the thoughts tumbling over themselves in his head. “We don’t need his help.”

Peter scoffed. “Oh yeah? Are you going to write us some angsty songs then, sad boy?”

“Sod off.”

“Exactly! Unless you’re willing to dig out your notebook and share what you’ve been working on the last few months, we have to look elsewhere.” Peter said, clasping his hands together excitedly. “Honestly, James, convincing Regulus to write for us could mean a guaranteed recording contract!”

That got James’s attention. A recording contract was their primary goal. With an album, they could go on tour and play for bigger venues on a production company’s dime. “You think so? Guaranteed?”

“Definitely!”

James chewed his bottom lip as he considered the chances of it actually happening. He turned toward Remus and asked, “What do you think? Guaranteed, or no?”

Remus hesitated. “I’d say he’s our best shot at being picked up by a label quickly, yeah.” 

“We’d better practice then,” James conceded. He set his guitar on the stand and examined their setup closely, following the cables to each piece of equipment. One of the amps was missing.

“Oi! Sirius! Where did I put the spare amp?” James called out. He swiveled around, promptly tripped over a loose cable, and landed on his arse. “Ow! Fuck off!”

Sirius shoved his mobile in his pocket and ran over to him. “What have you done now?”

“These fucking cables!” James griped.

“Jumped up and bit you again?”

James grabbed Remus’s hand and hauled himself to his feet. “Worse, dragged me down with them.”

Famous last words if I’ve ever heard any.

Regulus tapped his fingernails against the side of his cell phone, annoyed with his brother. It was infuriating when Sirius feigned stupidity and withheld information just to mess with him. He was obviously well aware of why Regulus was calling him, and now refused to tell him anything useful. All because Sirius figured out that Regulus fancied his band mate. I’m not afraid to play dirty, he should know better.

“Sirius, you have the subtlety of a pup with a squeaky toy,” Regulus said. “Just tell me what I want to know, and I’ll stop calling.”

Sirius’s exaggerated sigh of exasperation was like nails on a chalkboard in Regulus’s brain. “I don’t know what you mean. Why would I want you to stop calling me, Reggie?”

“Enough. Just tell me, you twat,” Regulus demanded. 

“If you think calling me names is going to help—“

Regulus ignored his brother’s petulant tone, summoning every ounce of calm he could muster. Sirius wanted him to overreact. He would continue to be evasive until Regulus lost his patience and told him off. Instead, Regulus refocused, calmly turning his hand and admiring his rings as they glinted in the low light of his bedroom. Since everything is a game to him, I’ll play.

“Liar. You’re stalling. I will call you every ten minutes for the next three days, if that’s what it takes. You can’t out-petty me, Sirius.” 

Sirius groaned loudly. “You are such a buzzkill. Fine, Reggie! What do you want to know?”

Regulus scoffed, “Don’t patronize me. Tell me about your fit lead singer, Sirius. Don’t be a prick.”

“Look, I can tell you a little bit, but the rest you have to figure out yourself. I’m not playing wingman between my brother and my best mate.” Sirius was definitely pouting now, Regulus could hear it in his voice.

“Piss off, I didn’t ask you to. Just give me something, ” Regulus insisted. “There’s nothing about him online. Not even his bloody full name and age! Does he have any personal accounts? Pandora’s losing her shit. He can’t be a complete ghost.”

“Just his old uni ones, I think. He runs the band’s socials and claims that he doesn’t have time to update both,” Sirius replied. Regulus could tell he was moving again, likely pacing if old habits still clung to his brother like body odor. “I know he’s currently single, but he’s defensive as fuck about his personal life. Trust me, I’ve tried to dig into his dating history. Not happening.” 

Regulus idly straightened the pens on his desk, thoroughly unimpressed. He’d hoped that his brother would offer up an anonymous or private account that he and Pandora could sneakily gain access to. Sirius said they are best friends. How does he know nothing about this man? 

“I mean it, Reggie. James won’t talk about his dates, and if he does, it’s in vague references only. We share a flat with Peter, and I never see him bring anyone home.”

“James…that’s his name?” Regulus breathed out, his idle hands halted abruptly.

“James Potter,” Sirius confirmed, though he sounded reluctant. “He’s on the list that I sent Pandora. There, now you can cyber stalk him to your heart’s content. For what it’s worth anyway.”

Regulus hummed thoughtfully. “What is James like? Or interested in?”

“Usually, he’s good fun. Takes himself far too seriously though. He’s an arrogant fuck, but also worries about everyone else? I know his ex is a fiery, red-headed bird with legs for days,” Sirius offered, smirking to himself. “They were constantly in rows when they dated, but he seemed to enjoy butting heads more than she did.”

“Oh. It’s not exclusively redheads for him, is it?” he checked. When Sirius didn’t answer, Regulus sighed, losing patience by the second. “Or…women?”

“The constant rows comment didn’t even register with you, did it?” Sirius replied reluctantly. “He’s openly bi or pan, or something similar. Look, Reggie. He’s a good mate, but I can’t really tell you what he—“

”Rows come with the territory. Musicians are passionate by nature.” Regulus dismissed the concern at once. Music was his profession too, after all. “If that’s all you know, then I’ll let you go. I know you're busy.”

“You can call me as often as you like. You know that,” Sirius insisted, because of course he did.

Pandora pointed at Regulus, then mouthed, “Ask if Potter has secrets to hide.”

Horrified, Regulus shook his head and tried to end the call. She launched herself across his bed and clawed at the phone in his hand. The struggle was short because her nails were long, they bit into his hand until he released his phone. “Pandora, I’m trying to…no. I’m not asking him that. What difference–”

“Sirius, does this James Potter have any skeletons that I need to know about?” Pandora asked, her tone sharp and no-nonsense. Regulus leaned in and rested his head against her temple so he could still hear his brother’s response.

Sirius released an amused breath. “Fuck, I hope so. No one should live a life that boring. Here’s the thing. I need you to understand that while I adore James, he’s wound a bit too tight at the moment. It’s not a great time for–”

Pandora rolled her eyes. “Yeah, fine. Middle initial?”

“F.”

“Here’s Regulus again,” Pandora said briskly, tossing the phone at him before he had time to straighten up.“I don’t care if you think he’s fit, Reg. Your reputation matters.”

Regulus groaned. “Do not create a dossier on him! That’s weird and invasive, Pandora. I haven’t even met him in person yet.”

“Too late!” she called back, loud enough for Sirius to hear. Then, she disappeared behind her laptop screen.

Sirius laughed. “Oh, the life of a famous songwriter.”

“I’m not famous, just popular,” Regulus defended. Which was true. He was well known because of his familial connections, not just his talent. Regulus intended to change that, but he needed a proper challenge to prove he had range.

“You have a management team . Same thing.”

“Not even close.” Regulus refuted.

“Sure, Reggie. Look, I’m glad you’re coming, even if it’s just because you’re lusting after my best friend.”

“I am not! He’s…interesting.”

Sirius snorted in a rather disgusting way. “Which you could tell from one performance when he was shirtless and drunk?” 

Pandora’s voice drowned out Regulus’s protest, “I found him! The bastard has an old Instagram. He used to play rugby in uni!”

Regulus ended the call and tossed his mobile aside, crawling over his bed to see what she’d found. “Wow,” he whispered, leaning in close to her screen. “I want to chew his thighs through those trousers.”

He hadn’t intended to say that last bit out loud and his cheeks heated with Pandora’s breathy laugh. It was impossible not to drool over him. James, Sirius said. James F. Potter was a stupidly simple name for such a disgustingly fit bloke. A very moanable name though.

The majority of James’s Instagram photos were five year old action shots from uni rugby games, clearly taken by someone else. Probably Sirius, if he had to guess. They were nothing special, really. 

It was the selfies that struck Regulus speechless. A few were taken in a mirror, which was not covered in spit, thankfully, but most were simple arm extended snapshots. James seemed to prefer the simple method of holding his arm out and snapping a quick shot of his bare upper body, always with a smirk.

He knows how good he looks, and confidence suits him.

James was definitely more toned back then, likely due to a rigorous training schedule. Regulus knew little about rugby and the training regiment, but he appreciated James’s sacrifices to the gymnasium gods to acquire that body. Regulus had played a bit of footy himself when he was younger, but not at a competitive level. He definitely wasn’t that dedicated at twelve.

Athletes weren’t usually his type, if he was honest. They tended to be too shallow intellectually to hold his interest. Regulus didn’t require depth, per se, but the ability to converse about anything other than sport was definitely a requirement. 

As a musician himself, James should be able to converse intelligently about music with him. Since Regulus was proficient with more instruments than his brother, hopefully that would inspire a reciprocated interest. Perhaps his own obsessive attention to detail could work to his favor with a bloke for once, rather than drive one away. Fingers crossed.

“Are you done ogling him? Can I get on with this?” Pandora teased, prodding his arm.

“Hmm? Oh, right.” Regulus leaned his chin on her shoulder to watch as she flipped through every photo and noted any captions with hashtags, which were few and far between. When she flipped back to the profile itself, Pandora copied his username and texted it to him without Regulus having to ask. 

She lifted a hand to pat his cheek fondly. “There, now you can ogle @prongsie to your heart’s content.”

“He only has what? Two dozen photos? And a couple of rugby reels?” Regulus grumbled, leaning into her touch. “Not much to ogle.”

“Potter’s a tease about it too. His posts have minimal captions and he rarely uses hashtags, but he has a pretty impressive following considering he hasn’t posted in…years.” Pandora’s eyebrows shot up as she pulled up the latest photo he’d posted. “He was a volunteer for the fire brigade?”

“What? Where?” Regulus dug his chin in her shoulder to scan the photo. 

It wasn’t until she zoomed in that he spotted the calendar on the wall behind James. On March’s spread, James was crouched low to the ground in charcoal trousers with grey suspenders and not much else. His brown skin gleamed in the sunlight and his grin was filled with mischief. Behind him were the worst fake flames Regulus had ever seen photoshopped into a photo. Clearly an amateur attempt, but appropriate nonetheless.

“Oh, there has to be more,” he breathed out, hugging her waist from behind. “Please let there be more.”

“You better believe I’ll find them. Give me a few days and I’ll track down the photographer,” she promised. “If I can get my hands on that calendar, do you want it?”

“Obviously.” He squeezed her again and added, “Yes, please.”

Pandora giggled as she switched to a browser and began searching for the fire brigade’s website. “Do not drool on my shoulder, Reg. I’ll see what I can do.”

While she fell down a rabbit hole on eBay, Regulus flopped back on the bed and reached for his mobile. He followed the link she’d sent him back to James’s Instagram and proceeded to open every photo from the bottom of his profile to the top. It was necessary to view them in the context that they were posted. He took great care to prevent his eager thumbs from double-tapping and leaving an unintended “like.” 

Regulus soon found himself enthralled with the comment section instead of the half-assed photos. Early on in his investigation, he spotted his brother’s username. Sirius posted random, emoji filled messages, but there wasn’t usually a response from James. He didn't appear to interact much with his own account, even when he was actively posting.

@siriuslytho: Looking 🔥🔥🔥 on the field @prongsie 

@siriuslytho: Who let you in the 💃 dorm? Did @notyourlittlewoman finally come around? 🙌

@siriuslytho: I should have known it was @blondie 👩‍🦳

There were various girls commenting as well. Most were thirsting after James —which Regulus did not blame them for— but a few were taking the piss out of him as well. The @blondie username popped up fairly frequently, as did @notyourlittlewoman. Though that last one’s comments clearly shifted from scathing taunts to flirtatious teasing from James’s first post to the last. Luckily, the girls had active profiles that he could stalk a little more thoroughly.

“Blondie” turned out to be Marlene McKinnon. She was a punk-wannabe turned tattoo artist’s apprentice and semi-professional photographer, if her bio was up-to-date. Her photos were fascinating, but rarely beautiful. She seemed to prefer capturing emotionally raw images of humanity rather than portraits. Her grid was filled with women in varying stages of heartbreak.

Although, there were a handful of artsy shots posted of a gorgeous black woman with curls that haloed her face perfectly. She was tagged as @thatfarmgirl, which Regulus sorted out fairly quickly was a reference to her last name instead of her background. Mary McDonald was witty and clever, as well as stunning. Her own captions were sassy and a little snarky at times. He found a post of her and her friends decked out in club attire captioned, “Work that pussy out,” and had tagged the most conservatively dressed of the four. 

@emvance responded with a middle finger emoji. She was an Asian girl with a bob, who was vaguely interesting, but it was the redhead in the photo that captured his attention next. She was the same girl that Sirius had tagged in James’s photos, @notyourlittlewoman. 

Lily Evans, it turned out, was James’s ex-girlfriend. Regulus found quite a few shots of the pair together from the last couple of years on her grid. Then, he disappeared from Lily’s posts six months ago and @thatfarmgirl became the primary focus instead. I wonder what happened.

“Found his ex,” Regulus said, showing his mobile to Pandora. 

She inhaled sharply, then let out a soft whistle. “Bloody hell, she’s gorgeous. Potter fumbled hard.” 

“Mm-hmm, she seems to be dating this woman now.”

“Oh shit! That’s Mary Macdonald.” Pandora grabbed his mobile and skimmed Lily’s profile. “She’s an Instagram model who was picked up by The Row last year. Wow, they look incredible together. What I wouldn’t give to be their third.”

Regulus ignored that, and scrolled down to the photos of her and James. “Sirius said his ex was a redhead and she’s the only one who fits. Lily Jane Evans.”

“Her profile says she’s a free-lance journalist,” Pandora said, furrowing her brows. “It could be helpful to have an independent journalist in our contacts. Wait, I know I’ve seen that name before.”

Pandora handed his mobile back and resumed tapping furiously at her laptop. She flipped between her tablet’s notes app and her browser as she copied down names, dates, and profile links. Her vetting process was beyond messy, it was pure chaos. Regulus didn’t understand how she could turn these half-formed thoughts and random facts into the neat, orderly dossiers she created about everyone he interacted with, or potentially could interact with.

“Here it is. She did an article for The Daily Prophet on women in tech. It looks like she mostly writes for online travelogues though. There’s several here from Southwest Asia and Eastern Europe. Her landscape photography is beautiful.”

Regulus gave the screen a cursory scan before returning to his own investigation. He needed to dissect every detail about this woman. If Lily was James’s type, and they’d dated for a couple of years, then there had to be a clue to what he liked in here somewhere. Hopefully, it wasn’t exclusively redheads with “legs for days.”

To her credit, Lily wasn’t as sparse with her captions as James. However, she did lean into song lyrics and poetry quotes rather heavily. Based on this alone, he could tell that she was a big fan of classical literature, nineteenth century poets, and had predictable music taste. She was a Swiftie, which wasn’t surprising, and a Hozier fan, which amused him. 

Unlike James “Bio, what bio?” Potter, his ex used emojis to fit as many interests and identifying labels as possible after her job description. Beyond the pen and paper, pride flag, and book emojis were a dancing woman, globe, airplane, cocktail glass, and shopping bags. Why does she have to be so interesting? How can I compete with that?

“We have a problem,” Regulus said with a deep, affected sigh.

Pandora’s eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t look up. “Which is?”

“I may be infatuated with his ex. Lily seems really bloody lovely.”

A slow grin spread across Pandora’s face as she met his gaze. “Considering switching teams?”

“Definitely not, but how am I supposed to hate her if she listens to Hozier and is obsessed with Emily Dickinson and Brontë? She’s snarky and…and…fun!” Regulus huffed and tossed his mobile on the bed. “She’s probably even cultured with all of the traveling that she does. Merde, I want to hate her.”

“Probably,” Pandora agreed. “Potter has impeccable taste in women, I’ll give him that.”

“That’s my point. If someone like her can’t keep hold of him, what chance do I have?”

She waved dismissively, sending her bangle bracelets jingling down to her wrist. “Who says he dumped her? I reckon she was bored of him.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Regulus whined. He pressed his face into the quilt and groaned. “I doubt I’d get bored of him even if he was bone-dead stupid, which he’s clearly not.”

“Says the twit that hasn’t met him yet. Potter could turn out to be a complete arsehole. He is friends with your brother, after all.” Pandora’s lips twitched as if she was fighting back a smile.

Just then, Regulus’s bedroom door flew open and slammed into the wall. He didn’t need to look up to know that Barty was standing in the doorway. It was fairly typical for him, really. If a door was unlocked, chances were he’d walk right in, and Barty loved making a dramatic entrance.

“What are you lot up to today?” Barty asked, taking three steps before leaping onto the unoccupied section of the bed at Pandora’s feet. The bed bounced violently for a moment, but Regulus managed to hold on.

“Background on a potential client,” Pandora answered flatly. It was her “don’t fuck with me” tone and Barty immediately refocused on Regulus instead. Smart man.

“And Reg? Are you free?”

Technically, he was free. Regulus finished the song that he was working on yesterday and was a full week ahead of Pandora’s schedule. Granted, he’d much rather sit here and drool over James’s old selfies than engage in whatever nonsense Barty was about to suggest. “Maybe, maybe not. Why?”

“He is,” Pandora corrected, shooting a pleading look over her tablet. “I could use a coffee if you’re going out.”

It wasn’t a question, or even a suggestion. Pandora was plainly advising him to keep Barty entertained for a while so she could work. Unfortunately, Pandora’s flat was located by a busy transit line and finding quiet spaces to work was tricky in a busy city like London. He’d offered use of his place when she agreed to become his full-time publicist/manager/sanity holder, so it was only fair to leave her to it.

“You heard the woman, Reg,” Barty goaded, slipping a hand around Regulus’s waist. “Come play with me!”

Regulus smiled involuntarily. “Playing” with Barty generally meant wandering the neighborhood looking for trouble or being a menace in the park. Any activity that burned off the twat’s excessive energy and prevented him from setting fires was considered successful. Barty was a professional slacker, he refused to work and gambled online instead. Regulus didn’t understand how he won so often, but he suspected hacking was involved.

“Fine, but we are not sneaking into that auto parts lot again. I don’t want another Tetanus shot,” Regulus warned, narrowing his eyes.

“Of course not! You only get a Tetanus shot every ten years. You’re good for a decade of risky behavior in the auto parts lot.” Barty wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Five if you get scraped up on a piece of rusty metal again,” Pandora said, shaking her head. “Just take a jaunt through the park and let him chase the ducks, Reg. Then, bring me coffee.”

Barty snorted a laugh and rolled off the bed, planting his feet on the floor at the last second with a loud thud. “Yeah, Reg. Walk me like a dog.”

“You’d enjoy that too much,” Regulus retorted, eyeing the leather collar and dog tags around Barty’s neck. 

“You might too,” Barty teased back, “if you loosened up a little.”

Eventually, Pandora coerced Regulus to go with the promise that she would find that fucking fire brigade calendar, or make him one, if necessary. Barty looked profoundly confused, but shrugged it off when Regulus agreed. He knew better than to argue when he was getting his way.

Regulus pulled on a thick jumper, then layered a wool jacket and scarf on top. As he tugged his leather gloves on, Barty bounced impatiently next to him with a hand on the door knob. He’d tossed on a hoodie and a beanie, which was a solid concession to the weather. Barty didn’t seem to care if he was on the verge of hypothermia in the dead of winter, as long as his movement wasn’t restricted by a bulky jacket. 

Then again, Barty didn’t care about a lot of things. Such as, how damaging the large gauge plugs in his ears were, or how absurd it looked to have random tiny tattoos all over his skin rather than a well-planned design. 

Regulus only had two tattoos that he’d kept safely hidden from his parents. Sirius designed them when he went through an artsy phase in secondary. Frank, Barty’s favorite tattoo artist, was impressed with the line work on the coiled snake Regulus requested around his upper arm, and rolled his eyes at the elaborate Leo constellation on his hip. In fact, it was a paparazzi photo of the snake peeking out from his sleeve that sent his father over the edge about his “disreputable behavior.”

Now that he was free from Orion Entertainment’s abusive Code of Conduct, he was considering new ink. A tattoo that would definitely be visible in press photos, was a metaphorical two finger salute, and be very clear who it was aimed at. He just hadn’t decided what image he wanted yet.

“Hey, is Frank’s shop open today?” Regulus asked casually, straightening his gloves. The sharp crack of Barty’s neck made him wince in sympathy. 

“Really? You want to go to Human Canvas? Yes!” Barty grabbed Regulus’s hand and dragged him out the door. “I’ll drive. Come on.”

“You are not driving. It’s twelve degrees!”

Barty scoffed, “So? You’re plenty bundled up.”

“I am not getting on that neon green death cycle of yours in January, Barty. It’s bad enough that your driving makes you a danger to yourself and others. I also don’t want to catch pneumonia,” Regulus retorted.

“Reg! We cannot roll up to Frank’s in Pandora’s Fiat! He will laugh us out of the shop.”

Regulus pulled out his mobile and shook it in Barty’s face. “Obviously. I’ll request a driver.”

When the black sedan rolled up, Barty waved off the driver when he began to climb out and opened the back door himself. Regulus waited for him to slide in, then followed. Of course, Barty opted to sit in the middle like a twat, rather than give Regulus a little space. That was entirely too much to ask of him.

Barty propped a hand on Regulus’s knee while he blathered on and on about tattoo ideas. Twice, Regulus pushed him away. Eventually, Barty settled for smashing their legs together instead. Regulus used to fuss about the familiarity Barty assumed with his body, but he’d given up trying to reset their friendship to one of snarky antagonism when his mate had made him orgasm. Not that Barty would allow it anyway.

After uni, he was Regulus’s only escape from his parents’ constant demands. No one else dared to defy Orion Black, but Barty didn’t care. He climbed over the back wall of their garden like a curious possum and sneaked Regulus out to a seedy pub or a party at least once a week. If it wasn’t for Barty, he’d have remained the naive fool that he was raised to be. Regulus wouldn’t have known how much he missed out on while locked in his lonely, grey brick tower.

“I think you should get a frog,” Barty said suddenly.

“A frog? Why?”

“Because they’re so tiny and adorable, just like you!” The delighted grin on Barty’s face when Regulus huffed nearly earned him a kick in the shin. It was a close call.

Regulus shoved him instead. “I am not small. Just because I’m not a bean pole like you—”

“Bean pole? Come on, you can do better than that,” Barty insisted.

Regulus hesitated, searching his mind for something sufficiently crass. Even now, he still hadn’t gained a firm grasp of the audacity necessary to run his mouth freely. While he was fully capable of viciously dispatching an insolent fool at the pub, his posh accent tended to ruin the effect of particularly nasty insults. Regulus struggled to find that perfect blend of devastating and amusing that Evan wielded naturally. He either turned too cruel or too polite.

“Fine. You’re all tip and no iceberg,” Regulus said.

Barty’s mouth dropped open and a startled laugh burst free. It became a strangled sound as he fought to rein himself in. Regulus turned toward the window and watched the blur of buildings pass by. He couldn’t actually tell how that retort landed, whether Barty was laughing at him or with him.

“All right, Jimmy Carr. Get out,” Barty finally said, leaning over his lap and shoving the door open before the car came to a complete stop at the curb.

Regulus swatted his hands away and paid the driver a generous tip for putting up with them. The man nodded with a sly smirk. Regulus ignored it as he slid out of the seat. Thank fuck for a driver with a sense of humor.

As they stepped into Human Canvas, Frank glanced up from his current client and grinned. “One of us will be right with you, lads.”

“It’s fine. I want to look through your books first,” Regulus replied with a wave. 

“You’ll like what’s in the bottom one, Reg.” Barty picked up the heavy binders on top so that Regulus could tug the last one free. “It’s full of dark shit and symbols.”

Regulus set the binder aside and peeled off his gloves and outer coat. Then, he meticulously tucked the gloves into the pockets and hung it on the coat rack near the door. His scarf followed, but he kept the jumper on for now. The cold seemed eager to seep into his bones this time of year.

As he settled into an armchair in the waiting area, Regulus hauled the binder into his lap and began flipping through it. Frank’s line work was beautiful, but it was his shading that impressed him the most. Somehow, Frank managed to give every piece a slightly haunted look with precisely placed shadows. Even simple florals looked a little eerie.

“What are you thinking?” Barty asked, leaning in to look over his shoulder.

Regulus shied away from the hot breath on his neck and met Barty’s intense green eyes. “Something that says ‘fuck you’ and is very visible.”

A violent joy encompassed Barty’s features and his eyes flashed with something distinctly dangerous. He reached over Regulus’s shoulder and flipped the pages toward the back. Regulus did his best to stay out of his way.

“What about this?”

Regulus glanced down at the glossy page and pursed his lips in thought. “You have the right idea, but I don’t want a knob tattooed on me, Barty. I would prefer some subtlety.”

“I think it would be hot.”

“Then you get it,” Regulus said, flipping the page.

“Maybe I will.”

Regulus snorted derisively. “Do it, and I’ll pay.”

“You’re buying? Done!” Barty released the book and dusted his hands theatrically. 

“I have a suggestion.” The woman’s husky voice startled him. Regulus immediately relaxed when he recognized Marlene McKinnon. Then, he tensed again when he realized why he’d recognized her.

Regulus eyed her curiously, noting the number of tattoos on her arms and collar bone. She certainly had experience choosing art for her own human canvas. “Go on?”

The blonde plopped onto the seat next to him and flipped through a different binder. The one she was looking at was significantly more colorful. Both of Regulus’s current tattoos and the ones he was considering were all black.

“This one,” she said definitively.

He eyed her smug grin warily, then lifted her binder on top of the first one. She was still pointing to a small piece in the middle of the page. Regulus chewed his bottom lip pensively as he studied the image. It wasn’t subtle at all, but it was kind of perfect.

“I think you’re right,” Regulus admitted, shaking his head.

“Of course I am. Now, where are you getting it?” Marlene asked.

Barty’s knuckles brushed the side of Regulus’s neck. “Here?”

“I mean, that’s rather predictable,” Marlene said, scrunching up her nose. “Try again.”

Marlene had a point, the neck was too cliche. It had to go somewhere unexpected, but also visible. A placement that ruined his image in his father’s eyes, not the public’s. His fingers tapped restlessly on the page as his mind whirled. Then it hit him. Oh that’s perfect.

Tattooing his fingers would be the perfect revenge, really. Not only because his father’s company had insured his fingers for thousands of dollars, but also because they could never steal his signature image in the future. As a performer, his hands were always the star of the show. They often filmed his hands on the piano or holding a violin when he played. All of their promotional photos of him would be instantly outdated and worthless.

Was it drastic? Oh, definitely. Was it effective? Also yes.

Regulus’s image was specifically curated to appeal to a general audience. His branding was focused on popular and classical music, both writing it and playing it, rather than his personality or looks. Which was part of the problem, actually. No one commissioned a clean-cut, elegantly dressed bloke for the gritty, emotion-grinding work that he wanted. Seasoned song-writers didn’t wear knit jumpers and tailored trousers. They styled themselves for the genre of work they wanted to attract.

This would be the perfect first step. No more pop princess wannabes would chase after his wholesome image with “Bite Me” tattooed across his knuckles.

Regulus spent the entirety of the tattoo session imagining his father’s face when he saw the first photo of him with thin, lowercase letters marring his pale skin as he stroked the strings of a guitar. He’d chosen his own loopy script instead of the Old English design that Marlene initially pointed out to make the message all the more personal.

When it was finished, Marlene asked for a photo with him and the new ink for the shop’s Instagram. He agreed on the condition that she send him the picture as well. She was delighted when he gave her his publicist’s phone number. Regulus knew better than to give a stranger his personal number. As it was, he’d had to sneak it to Sirius and then apologize later.

It wasn’t until he and Barty were in the sedan again, two hours later, that he realized he probably should have run the idea past Pandora first. That realization was coincidentally tied to the sudden video call from her. Pandora only video called him when he was in trouble and she wanted to chastise him face to face.

“Regulus Arcturus Black! What did you do?” she demanded, eyes blown wide and a heavy crease between her brows. “Have you finally gone ‘round the bend?”

“No, it’s a statement,” Regulus said calmly. “In my own handwriting.”

Pandora closed her eyes for a long moment and sighed. “Yes, I received that statement loud and clear.”

He frowned, flexed his fingers, and stared at them as her words sank in. When they did, he choked in his haste to explain. “No, no! Pandora, it’s not a message for you. I just wanted a copy of the photo. I had her send it to you because I knew you wouldn’t want me to give out my number.”

“Oh, thank the goddess.” She flopped back on his bed and threw her arm over her eyes.

Barty chortled, then leaned into the frame. “It’s a message to his shit parents.”

“Was this your idea?” she asked accusingly.

“Nope! All his. I’m the enabler this time.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Reg. This could hurt your image and affect your chances of being hired,” she warned.

Regulus nodded, then aimed a grin at the screen. “I know. That’s what I’m counting on.”

“A little warning would be nice next time. I wasn’t prepared to rework your entire brand today.”

“Sorry, Panda.”

The nickname that only he was allowed to use softened her immediately. Pandora rolled her eyes, then pointed at him sternly. “You’re lucky I love you. Now, take your puppy for a walk and bring me coffee. Then, maybe I’ll forgive you.”

“Understood.”

Pandora moved to end the call, then hesitated. “And…you have to tell Dorcas.”

“I will.”

Regulus ended the call and quickly sent a text to Dorcas explaining what he’d done and why, then attached the picture for context. Her response was a voice note of her laughing hysterically for a full thirty seconds. He should have known she’d appreciate the sentiment, if not the art itself. Dorcas was every bit as petty as he was.

The follow-up texts were laced with humor, which he was grateful for. Already, he was a little anxious about his impulsive decision. Even though he still liked the tattoo, he did wonder just how Orion Entertainment, Inc. would react. Would they slander him in the press again?

Dorcas: You’re such a twit. Cursive? Very intimidating.

Regulus: Could I pull off intimidating without a blade?

Dorcas: Fair point. 

Regulus: I’m going for vaguely threatening here, at best.

Dorcas: In that case, mission accomplished. Did Pandora chew you out?

Regulus: A little. I may have sent the picture without explanation.

Dorcas: <voice note>

Her second voice note was longer, louder laughter. Barty cackled along with her, his head thrown back and hands flailing excitedly in front of his face. He was clearly beyond tickled to be in on this shenanigan, and eager to get home to show off his new ink as well. 

The reddened skin around the detailed, erect cock and wrinkly bollocks Barty had tattooed on the base of his neck was all the more crude with the words “suck it” added inside the veiny prick. Barty insisted Regulus write out his message in loopy cursive as well and the effect was obscene. It made Regulus’s tattoo look tame in comparison, which was probably the point.

He is the devil on my shoulder and the childhood friend I once needed, all in one. If only he’d stay in his assigned “friend” box, where he belongs.

The next practice was even better. On Thursday, James was relieved to see Remus beginning to blend in with the band. Although Sirius’s continued drooling over their new bassist, and the tension between them, was quickly growing awkward. This was the third time he’d had to intervene this week.

“Sirius! Wake up, mate!” James called out, waving a hand in front of him. 

“Huh? Oh, right,” Sirius huffed, shaking his head clear. He started drumming randomly, then stopped. “Wait, what are we playing?”

Peter snorted. “Killer Queen, you suggested it!” 

“Yes, all right.” Running a hand through his hair, Sirius wound it into a bun, and stabbed a spare drumstick in to keep it together. He tipped his head to the side and studied James’s bemused grin. “Wait, are you going to attempt Mercury? Your falsetto is shit, mate.”

James shrugged, picking up the secondary mic and positioning it closer to Sirius’s drum kit. “Feel free to take the lead and have a queer old time with it.”

“I always do,” Sirius assured him, winking cheekily. 

Peter’s clever hands danced over the keyboard, head bobbing as the drums kicked in. Queen gave Peter the opportunity to show off a bit, and James was thrilled when he ran with it. Everyone deserved a piece of the spotlight and he tried to share it as equally as possible. James’s ego, admittedly oversized, would never overpower his sense of fair play.

“Caviar and cigarettes. 
Well versed in etiquette. 
Extraordinarily nice, 
she’s a Killer Queen...” 

Sirius sang, accenting his vibrato heavily. He swayed with his own beat, swept up in James’s guitar slides and Peter’s fanciful finger work. James knew how much he loved it when they improvised. 

“Gunpowder, guillotine. 
Dynamite with a laser beam.
guaranteed to blow your mind…”

When the song came to an end, Sirius aimed that blinding man-eater grin at him. “Was that queer enough for you, Jim-Jam?”

“Perfection,” James replied, clasping a hand to his chest. “Be still my heart.”

“All right, all right. If you’re going to snog each other, take it outside,” Peter teased. Turning to Remus, he tilted his head. “Well? What do you think? Had enough of us yet?”

Remus shrugged. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll stay.”

“Brilliant!” James shouted, leaping over the primary amp. He clapped a hand on Remus’s shoulder jovially and spun around on the spot. “We’d love to have you, right lads?”

“Yes!” Peter agreed. 

James caught Sirius’s excited shimmy out of the corner of his eye, but when that shimmy was ignored by the intended audience, Sirius’s grin soured into a pout. He couldn’t help but laugh. It was absurd the lengths Sirius went to for attention, but that was just who he was. Once Sirius had a fit bloke in his sights, he chased his prey tirelessly. 

Leave it, James thought, but that was an unreasonable expectation. Besides, he couldn’t blame Sirius for being annoyed. When Remus wasn’t entirely focused on the music, he was chuckling wryly at Peter and James’s antics. It was almost shocking how rarely he acknowledged Sirius’s existence. No one ignored Sirius, for fuck’s sake! There were always jealous twats in the world, but as Sirius often said, Sirius fucking Black did not inspire ambivalence. 

“Sirius? Are you up for a pub crawl?” Peter asked, leaning over the cymbals. “I need a drink.”

“Yeah, all right,” he agreed. 

Peter nodded in approval, then spun on his heel. “Oi! You two up for pints?”

Remus immediately looked at James and waited for his response. It was almost comical how devastated Sirius looked after such a subtle movement. Almost. James did feel a little guilty for monopolizing their new band mate, even if it was in the band’s best interest. We don’t need a repeat of the Fabian fiasco.

“Yeah, why not?” James agreed, then he nudged Remus. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“No, I’m free,” Remus answered readily. 

James grinned. “Excellent. Let’s get pissed!”

Peter whooped in celebration, then hurriedly packed up his keyboard. Amidst the flurry of activity, James noticed Sirius sneaking several looks at Remus as if he hoped to catch the bloke watching him. Wishful thinking, mate.

It only grew more obvious as the evening went on. All the way to the pub, Sirius tried to strike up a conversation with Remus. Each time, the bloke either ignored him outright or redirected the conversation to James instead. By the time they reached the first pub, Sirius was seething.

There was a method to their pub crawl madness. They always started at The Black Dog because the drinks were cheap and the bartender was generous, then moved on to the smaller pubs. James was convinced that showing up on non-performance nights built up goodwill with the owner and patrons. It was also the largest pub in the neighborhood, so there was always a familiar face in the crowd. 

Stepping into The Black Dog was a bit of a mind-fuck. It had the ambience of one of those ancient, historical pubs with exposed beams, old memorabilia and framed black-and-white photos on the wall, and up-ended barrels supporting the tables near the long, well-worn bar. Then, off to the side was a short stage with lighting that had to be from the 1970s. When they performed here, the crowd was mere inches away from James and only two feet below him. Worse still were the tacky 1950s-style booths around the perimeter of the pub. They made a horrible crackling noise when anyone sat on the faux leather seats and had very little cushion.

“What are you drinking, Remus? I’ll get the first round,” James offered.

“If they’ve got a dark beer on tap, I’d prefer that,” Remus said.

James pointed at him. “Understood.” 

Turning to Sirius, he hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the bar. “Your usual?”

Sirius opened his mouth and formed the beginning of “yes,” then paused and reconsidered. After a long look at Remus’s back, he shook his head. “A gin and tonic is fine.”

“What? You always get a martini!” Peter protested, propping his hands on his hips. “Who are you trying to impress, you pretty git?”

Sirius waved him away dismissively. “I just want something simple. I’ve ordered a gin and tonic before.”

Peter scowled. “When? Every time we go out you pick the brightest colored martini to see what lolly it tastes like.”

“I’ll get you both,” James decided. He didn’t need another row breaking out so soon, especially over drinks. The band needed to bond, not fracture.

“I'll help you carry them,” Remus offered, following James..

“What’s going on? Why are you acting so weird?” Peter hissed a little too loudly, grabbing Sirius’s wrist and dragging him to a booth. James didn’t hear his response, but Sirius sank into a seat like he’d lost the will to live. 

He focused on Remus as he introduced their favorite bartender. “This is Emmeline. She’s a uni friend of ours. Emmeline, this is our new bass player, Remus.”

“Nice! The boss will be thrilled to hear that.” she said. Emmeline jerked her head toward the free-standing shelves of liquor behind the bar. “What can I get ya?”

“A dark lager, a pale ale for me, a G&T, a rosy gin martini, and a vodka sour,” James listed off, pulling out his wallet. 

Emmeline started filling drinks immediately. “For your lager fan, I have Guinness. Will that do?”

“Yes, please,” Remus said agreeably. 

Once they had a tray of drinks in hand, James led the way back to the table. “She’s sweet, but don’t bother trying to chat her up at work. Emmeline is all business when she’s behind the bar.”

Remus sipped his Guinness and smiled. “Not really my type anyway.”

“For the best. I know for a fact she’s caught the eye of a brawny fellow who hasn’t gotten up the nerve to ask her out, but he’ll get there.”

“How do you know all that? Did you ask him?” Remus asked, glancing around the bar as if he expected to be jumped by the bloke.

“Nah, but I know that look. I rather like it when it’s aimed at me, yeah?” James teased. He winked at Remus as they approached the table. “It’s fun to watch those gears turning as they work up the confidence to make the first move.”

Remus laughed. “Yeah, all right. I should have guessed you were a tease.”

“Me? No. Never!”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

As they slid into the booth, Peter looked up and smiled. “Hey, Remus, I meant to ask you earlier, but I forgot. Isn’t there some sort of bassist tradition to name your bass? Yours is beautiful, by the way.”

Remus sipped his beer, then shrugged. “Yep. Mine is called Arianrhod.”

“Whose rod?” Sirius spluttered. He blinked a few times as if his brain was resetting. “Wait, that’s Welsh, right?”

Remus gave him a slight nod, but didn’t make eye contact.

“You’re into mythology, yeah? Isn’t that a goddess or something? I swear I’ve heard Lily say that word before,” James asked. Tugging his mobile out of his pocket, he tapped at his screen, then grinned when the page popped up. “The moon goddess, I like that. We have a star and a moon now. Maybe we should make astrology our band theme.”

“That’s right! Sirius has a star name!” Peter enthused, reaching across the table to prod Sirius’s hand. “Plus, James has that sun tattoo! Must be fate that you joined us, Remus.”

Remus took a long drink, then launched into an animated description of the Welsh moon goddess. His face lit up with excitement when he explained the symbols of Arianrhod. It was nice to see him talk so animatedly, since he’d remained rather reserved since he joined up.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When James showed up to the warehouse the following Tuesday, he frowned at the strangers milling around inside their practice space. It wasn’t unusual for the punks who partied there on the weekends to hang around, but this group wore suits, not ripped jeans and eyeliner. He spotted Sirius lounging by the stage and waved him down. “What’s all this about?”

“Reggie’s management team. He’s over there.” Sirius pointed to a figure leaning casually against the back wall. 

“All of them? That seems excessive,” James noted, squinting at the figure.

Sirius shrugged. “I only saw four, and that’s nothing really. They protect him, keep track of everything, and vet anyone who comes near him. He was not pleased that they had to vet you too, by the way.”

“Me? Why? I’m hardly a threat to him.”

“You never know. People act crazy around internet personalities, you know?” Sirius said, apparently unbothered by the suit invasion.

James pulled out his mobile and skimmed through his text messages, trying —and very likely failing— to mask his annoyance. “Waste of their time, really. I don’t have anything to hide.” 

Nothing that affects a spoiled prat from the Black family, anyway.

A short blonde woman in a long, swaying skirt bustled over to them. This had to be Pandora, she was all business from the get and a little intimidating with her imperious demeanor. She held a tablet to her chest as if protecting it. “Sirius, we need a quick meeting with each of your band mates separately, and then we’ll have you play a few songs. Reg wants to get a feel for your personalities, styles, vocal tone, etc. It’s part of his process.”

“Fine by me. Are Remus or Peter here?” Sirius checked.

“Not yet. Why don’t we start with you?” she suggested, touching James’s arm. Me? Why me?

Sirius hurried to introduce them. “James, this is Pandora Rosier. She is Reggie’s…well, everything?”

“Pretty much,” she agreed, her smile sharp. “Publicist, manager, and best friend.”

James could already tell that they were not going to mesh well. Pandora was clearly used to getting her way in every situation, and so was he. “Right. Sure. Whatever.”

Pandora tucked her hand in his arm and led him over to where Sirius’s brother stood alone. The younger Black brother attempted to straighten up subtly as his gaze flitted over James, but his expression remained neutral. He appeared thoroughly uncomfortable and bored. Pretentious prat confirmed.

“What was your name again?” Pandora asked.

“James Potter,” he answered, noting a flicker of apprehension on the bloke’s face. Is he nervous? No. That is probably a trick of the light.

“Right. James, this is Regulus Black. Regulus, James Potter,” she introduced them formally, then released James’s arm and gently pushed him forward.

James stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you. You’re Sirius’s brother, right?”

Regulus stared at him blankly. “You don’t know who I am?”

“No, should I?” James dropped his hand to his side, bristling at the blatant arrogance. Ego had its place, but at a first meeting? Fuck all the way off.

Regulus opened and closed his mouth, clearly startled into silence. After a long, critical study of James’s face, he looked at Pandora. “Can we have a minute?”

“Of course,” she agreed, swiveling on her heel and walking away.

“Is this going to take long? I was hoping to get everything set up before…what’s wrong?” James frowned, caught off-guard by Regulus’s perplexed expression.

“It’s strange that you didn’t look me up at all. Weren’t you curious about who you’re working with?”

“Sirius vouched for you. That’s good enough for me.”

“I see,” Regulus replied. He eyed James’s flannel, band tee, and ripped jeans critically. “I take it your style is…in transition?”

“What do you mean?” James asked, glancing down. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

Regulus tilted his head and furrowed his brows. “You chose this outfit intentionally knowing that you would be meeting a potential collaborator?”

“Yes, it’s classic grunge,” James defended, ruffling his curls distractedly. “Comfortable and low maintenance.”

“You’re proud of that, aren’t you? Appearing low maintenance? You really don’t care how you’re perceived?” Regulus asked, disbelief plain on his face. Then, his gaze dropped to James’s shoes. “Converse? Really? They don’t even match your shirt or–”

“Nothing wrong with my appearance, and I like Converse,” James snapped. He fought back the urge to give Regulus the same critique about his look.

“All right then.” Regulus held his hands up in surrender, which was unexpected. He wasn’t masking like Sirius did, but James couldn’t get a read on him. “Can you tell me a bit about yourself then? I’d like to make sure my songs fit your personality and preferences.“

“Preferences?”

“Dating preferences, mostly. It helps to know if you are attracted to blondes or brunettes, brown eyes or blue. That sort of thing. I prefer to write songs that are genuine and suited to the singer, when I can.” Regulus’s lips twitched with amusement at James’s hesitation. “You know, so the lyrics ring true when you sing them.”

“I’m not that picky.”

“Really? No preferences at all?” Regulus asked, clearly thrown by James’s non-answer. “No specifics I can use?”

James scoffed, “Nah, I don’t judge people by their looks alone. What are yours then?”

“Mine?” Regulus blinked rapidly, then mimicked his shrug. “Male.”

“That’s not very specific,” he mocked.

“More refined than yours.” Regulus studied him for a moment before answering anyway. “Based on past precedent? My type is violent arseholes and emotionally unavailable posh boys.”

James hesitated, caught off-guard again. “That sounds…toxic.” 

“Oh, it is,” Regulus agreed, brushing his fringe back from his eyes. “I’m self-aware of my toxic traits, and red flag blindness is definitely one of them. So, you prefer…”

“Fiery red-heads and moody brunettes, if we’re going by ‘past precedent.’” James exaggerated the finger quotes, then pointed at Regulus. “To be clear, I don’t want to sing sappy love songs. I’ve had enough of that ‘falling in love’ bullshit your lot love to write about.”

“My lot?” Regulus stared at him incredulously. “You think songwriters are sappy? Clearly you don’t know very many. We tend to enjoy torturing ourselves, generally speaking.”

When James didn’t respond, Regulus added, “Are you sure? That’s a pretty broad category to refuse.”

“So, you are going to write for us?” James deflected, rocking slightly on his heels.

“Perhaps, If I find your band inspiring,” Regulus replied, lifting his chin. 

James was delighted to see him turning defensive. Oh, I am going to enjoy taking this bloke down a few pegs. “That’s a bit pretentious, don’t you think?” 

Regulus frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Only creating when you’re inspired? It must be nice to have that luxury. Then again, such is the life of an influencer. Right? You can make your own schedule.”

“I’m a classically trained musician and composer,” Regulus shot back. His expression wasn’t hard to read now, but there was definitely disappointment mixed in with all of that self-righteous indignation. “I am not an influencer.” 

“Am I supposed to be impressed by that?” James gestured vaguely at the people milling about. “All of this set dressing is a waste of time and money. If you want to write, then write. If someone likes your music, they’ll buy it. In the end, money buys a lot of things, but not integrity.”

“I have integrity!” Regulus protested, a faint blush tinged his cheeks.

“Never said you didn’t,” James replied. He turned away slightly and began edging away from the pretty prat. “Anyway, I think once you hear us play, you’ll get a better feel for our sound. So, I’ll just—”

As James turned away, Regulus grabbed his arm. “Wait! One more question.”

Glancing down at the ring-covered fingers gripping his shirt, James paused. Regulus immediately released him and tucked both hands behind his back. It was almost adorable when his expression shifted to that of a scolded child. Almost.

“Go on then.”

“Do you have any writing experience of your own? I noticed that your band modified a few of their covers on socials, and Sirius said that was your doing,” Regulus said, searching James’s face intently. 

“I dabble, but just to fix problematic verses or rewrite sections if needed.”

“Can I see your ideas?” Regulus asked, leaning forward. “We could collaborate on a song or two if you’re open to that–“

“I don’t share my songs.” James cut him off at once. It was a lie, but he had no intention of baring his soul to someone who profited from oversharing online. He’s practically a journalist, if you think about it.

Regulus deflated. “Oh. I see.”

“Well, if you’re finished with me, I need to get set up,” James said. 

“For now,” Regulus replied vaguely. 

James jogged over to the stage to set-up. He moved quickly, turning on amps and running the cables that he knew they’d need. A few minutes later, Sirius hurried after him to help.

“That was fast. What did he want?” Sirius asked, sidling up beside him.

“To ask about our songs and criticize my clothes,” James said, glaring at him. “Is that genetic or did you encourage it?”

Sirius leaned against James’s shoulder. “My brother and I have good taste, that’s all. Your style is rubbish.”

“Says the bloke lusting after a man in knit jumpers.”

“He’s the exception to the rule. Fit as fuck, that one,” Sirius huffed, eyeing the door hopefully. “Speaking of, is he here yet?”

“Not that I’ve seen. The blonde captured me the moment I walked in the door.”

“Pandora. Careful around her, she’s extremely protective of my brother and has a sharp tongue,” Sirius warned. “I wouldn’t try anything stupid around her.”

James ignored the flutter of anxiety in his belly. He hated submitting to authority figures. “Not planning on getting in her way.”

“That’s probably for the best. What did you think of Reggie? I noticed that you offended him at least twice. He only flushes like that when he’s been called out.”

“He seems like every other entitled ‘influencer’ that I’ve ever met,” James replied, standing back up. “Your brother does rile easily though, so that was entertaining.”

Sirius grinned. “Did I hear you call him pretentious?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I reckon he loved that,” Sirius teased, swatting his arm.

James paused his cable gathering and chuckled. “You know, he didn’t appreciate it? I can’t imagine why.”

“Here I was convinced that you’d cave to his charms on sight.”

“What?” James glanced over both shoulders to make sure Sirius wasn’t talking to someone else. “Me? Why would I?”

“He has a way with people,” Sirius replied, nodding toward the corner where his brother and Peter were now chatting casually. “He can be a bit awkward at first, but he is really difficult to dislike when you get to know him. Annoying git, from time to time, but charming too.”

“If that was his version of ‘charming,’ it needs work,” James muttered, straightening the microphone stand. “When are these pricks going to learn to leave this shit set up correctly? I’m getting tired of fixing it every week.”

Sirius sighed as he grabbed the mics from the box at his feet. “One of the many reasons I drag my kit home. It’s a lot of extra work, but the kids that come in here on the weekends fuck everything up.”

“We’ll have more gigs soon,” James insisted, reaching for Peter’s bag to pull out the keyboard and stand. “I better set up for Pete, since he’s busy socializing.”

“Well, Reggie’s charm isn’t dead,” Sirius said suddenly. “When’s the last time you saw Peter cackle like that?”

James spared a glance at the duo in the corner. Regulus’s enthusiastic gesturing had Peter bent over with laughter. He was curious what they were talking about, especially if it was that funny, but wasn’t the least bit interested in joining them. “Been a minute, I suppose.” 

A tall figure breezed in from the left, grabbing his attention. Remus had arrived a little late, and he was decked out in a brown wool suit jacket layered over a button-up and tie…with jeans. It was a particularly odd outfit.

Sirius’s hand flew out, gripping James’s wrist tight. “Fuck me.”

“If you insist,” James shot back with a grin, but Sirius was not amused. “What’s wrong?” 

“He’s in a bloody suit, James! For fuck’s sake…I can’t breathe.”

James waved a hand in front of Sirius’s face, wondering if he’d gone temporarily blind. Remus’s suit coat and jeans were obviously old and a size too small, leaving his bare ankles exposed. Sirius couldn’t honestly find Remus’s ill-fitting suit attractive. Then again, nothing about this particular crush made sense to James. Remus was an excellent musician and plenty friendly, but fit? Not especially. 

“You all right there, Sirius?”

Gesturing vaguely at Remus, Sirius turned to face him. “Are you not seeing this? Let me clean your glasses. Clearly your view is obstructed.” He pulled the glasses from James’s face and cleaned them on the hem of his shirt. “There. Now try again.”

“My glasses are fine,” James grumbled, shoving them back on his face. “He is all right, I guess. Not sure why his clothes do it for you though. Strange thing to obsess over, if you ask me.”

“You do think he’s fit then?” Sirius checked. “Yet, you gave me a world of shit about fancying him?”

“Because he’s our band mate. You have to separate work and fun, Sirius. Otherwise you fuck it up for everyone.” The unspoken “again” echoed hollowly in his head, but there was no point in poking at a bruise.

“I don’t even know if he’s queer yet,” Sirius defended, shoving James’s shoulder. “He certainly doesn’t admire me as much as he should.”

With a startled huff, James reached over and ruffled Sirius’s hair. “What is the adequate amount of admiration to qualify as queer? Should I up my ogling time too?”

“Oi! Stop that!” Sirius objected, swatting at his hand. “I am objectively hot, James. Let’s not argue that point. I’ve made more than my share of straight blokes question themselves, after all. Ignoring me entirely? Not possible. Yet, he barely even acknowledges my existence!”

James turned to study Remus for a moment, watching him approach Regulus and Peter. He was visibly calm, but had a twitch of anxiety too. Once Remus was within Peter’s reach, the shorter bloke grabbed his arm and pulled him into the conversation. Remus managed to look both relieved and panicked at the same time. Impressive really.

“Maybe you’re not his type.” James suggested.

“Pffft! I’m everybody’s type.”

James arched a brow skeptically. “Not mine.”

“Do you even have a type?” Sirius snarked, rolling his eyes. “You don’t date anyone!”

“I pull when I want to, I just don’t brag about it,” James said, shoving his hands in his back pockets. “Unless it’s headed somewhere, there’s no point in going on about the person.”

“I’ve only seen you pull twice in six months!”

“It’s not a priority, Sirius. If I wanted to, I would.”

“Are you just being picky then? Looking for a specific aesthetic?” Sirius asked, a curious grin on his face. “Redheads that tell you off, in particular?”

“Mind your own,” James grumbled. “I’m not interested in Remus, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried. You’re hardly my competition,” Sirius scoffed, gesturing at himself grandly. “Just wondering, that’s all.” 

“Well, don’t. I told you already. It’s not a priority right now,” James grabbed the neck of his guitar, sliding the strap around his body, and adjusted it just so. He hated it when Sirius compared the two of them, he always lost. “Come on, let’s warm up. Peter and Remus can join us when they’re ready.”

“Fine by me.” Sirius hopped up on the stage and bounded over to his drum kit. After a few test taps to his cymbals and snare, he gave James a thumbs up. 

Pulling one of many picks from his pocket, James began strumming idly and waited for a melody to take his fancy. No one was paying any attention to the two of them anyway, so they might as well get started. Sirius offered an experimental beat that sparked a memory, and a shit-eating grin slipped free.

James leaned into the microphone and made eye contact with Peter from across the room. 

“Now it’s three in the mornin’ 
and I’m tryin’ to change your mind. 
Left you multiple missed calls 
and to my message you reply. 
Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

“His middle of night weed rants, yeah?” Sirius called out, laughing. 

James liked that last line, so he repeated it. Sirius joined in with a falsetto echo. “Why’d you only ever phone me when you’re high?”

Remus appeared next to the stage a moment later, shrugging out of his suit coat. He grinned at James as he loosened his tie. “Couldn’t let me impress the posh bloke, eh? So impatient!”

Grinning at him, James zipped his fingers up the frets as he leaned back and rocked his hips with the beat. He did his best to match Sirius’s energy when he smashed the high-hat. The chaotic music echoed through the room, aggravating every one of Regulus’s “team” as they turned to stare. Serves them right for interrupting band practice.

Remus tossed his tie over his shoulder casually and Sirius nearly fell off of his stool, missing a few beats as he righted himself. James rolled his eyes, slowing the pace so Remus could join in. They jammed for a full five minutes before Peter appeared. 

“All right, all right!” Peter chastised, rolling his eyes. He climbed on the stage and unplugged James’s amp with a petulant smirk. “Arsehole.”

“Look who decided to join us, lads?” James teased, leaning back to plonk on the keyboard discordantly.

Peter swatted his hand away. “Oi! Hands off!”

“Is that any way to talk to the bloke who so beautifully serenaded you?” Sirius huffed, threatening to lob a drumstick at Peter. 

James smirked. “Nah, mate. Pete knows I love a bit of degradation, don’t you?” 

“Goes straight to his prick,” Peter confirmed. “Whatever gets your rocks off, I guess.”

“Gross. Keep your kinks to yourself, Potter!” Sirius reprimanded, pointing at him now. “Or I will revoke your hot tub privileges!”

“Now that’s just cruel!” James reached down to retrieve his cable and plug it back into the amp. 

Remus doubled over with laughter and threw his hands out helplessly. When he finally caught his breath, his face was flushed. “You lot have been together…entirely too long.”

“You have no idea,” Peter lamented.

“Hey! Behave yourselves. We’re here to listen to you play, not flirt with each other,” Pandora scolded. She crossed the room with long strides for such a short person. 

James shrugged. “Can’t have one without the other. Sorry, love.”

When she opened her mouth to protest, James played a loud chord on his guitar that drowned her out. Sirius took that as a cue and pounded out a matching beat. Pandora glared at him, and Sirius ducked behind his drum kit to hide. Sirius was right, she could be bloody terrifying when she wanted to be. 

As the residual noise echoed through the room, Pandora crossed her arms over her chest with her eyebrows raised high on her forehead. “Are you done?”

“It’s all right, Pandora. Just let them play,” Regulus interjected, shaking his head. He’d hurried after her like a needy kitten. “We’re here to observe today anyway. I need to see how they play.”

She threw her hand up in frustration and turned away, muttering about “second rate musicians.” The comment struck a nerve in James, and he snapped his guitar strap with more force than necessary in retaliation. 

“What do you think, Remus?” Peter asked. “Dolls? Slide?”

Remus pointed at him approvingly and picked out the bass line of the Goo Goo Dolls song. James bobbed along, waiting for him to cycle back to the beginning before joining with his guitar. Sirius followed, goon-grinning like mad. He and Peter particularly enjoyed making James sing ballads. 

With his lips on the mic, James leaned into the natural rasp in his voice heavily just to spite these snobbish executives. Regulus was the only person left in front of the stage, so he deliberately made eye contact as he crooned.

“Could you whisper in my ear the things you wanna feel?
I’d give you anything to feel it comin’.”  

Sirius barely kept it together behind him, giggling like a fool when his brother froze. James smirked over his shoulder, then continued singing, emphasizing the sweeter parts of the song to amuse himself. Riling Regulus up was too easy, and admittedly, James was enjoying it a little too much.

“Put your arms around me. 
What you feel is what you are 
and what you are is beautiful. 

Yeah, slide between the sheets 
of all them beds you never knew. 
Why don’t you slide into my room? 
Just slide into my room…”  

Regulus chewed his bottom lip as James trailed off suggestively. The annoyed glance he cast between James and Sirius was equal parts confused and irate. Within three stanzas, he scowled and walked out of the building. 

Sirius fell off his stool laughing when the door slammed shut, crashing into his drum kit in the process. James grinned back at him, pleased with himself for flustering both Black brothers at once.  This is going to be so much fun.

“All right, Reggie?”

When his brother’s shadow fell over the ground at his side, Regulus crossed his arms over his bent knees and looked away. “I’m fine, it’s just… He’s not what I expected.”

Sirius took a long haul off of his cigarette, then tapped off the ash carelessly. A moment later, he gracelessly plopped into the curb next to Regulus, smoke curling lazily out of his mouth. “Elaborate.” 

“He’s an arsehole,” Regulus said flatly. “I suppose I created a fantasy of him in my mind. I thought he’d be excited to meet me too, like Peter and Remus were, and we’d hit it off talking about music. Even if he wasn’t interested, I figured we had enough common ground to get on well. Besides, I’m not just some goon off the street, Sirius. I don’t understand why he’s being such a dick.”

“I tried to warn you. James isn’t one of your posh blokes with refined style and manners. Sometimes he’s a dick, like any normal person. Just like you, on occasion.”

If by “normal person,” his brother meant combative and defensive, that explained some of it. The way he was singing was a taunt though, as if to ridicule Regulus for wanting what he’d never have.

“That’s not what I mean. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him,” Regulus replied, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

“He really does,” Sirius sighed, tapping his thumb against the cigarette filter idly. “Takes criticism really fucking personally. Especially from his ex.”

“She’s still around?”

“Mm-hmm, supposedly they’re friends. Not sure I buy it though,” Sirius replied, eyeing him curiously. When Regulus tensed, his brother smirked. “Relax, Reggie. She’s moved on with a stunner of a woman. What’s with you, anyway? I never would have guessed you’d go for James. He isn’t exactly your usual type.”

“He definitely is,” Regulus snarked. “Didn’t I tell you? I have a thing for egotistical, emotionally unavailable arseholes. I thought he was different.” 

Sirius sighed. “Sounds familiar.”

Regulus wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin on his own shoulder. “Is it me? Am I that off-putting? He was reluctant to walk over in the first place, then in a hurry to run off.”

“He doesn’t impress easily, no. Music is his focus. He’s made that abundantly clear,” Sirius said, though his tone implied disbelief.

Regulus nodded slowly. He felt like a fool after that train-wreck of an introduction. The plan to meet each of the band members individually was meant to be less overwhelming for him, and make it easier for the band to open up a little. Which worked with Peter and Remus, both were eager to chat and happy to share their personal interests. 

“Look, forget James for a minute. What do you think about the band?” Sirius asked, budging Regulus’s shoulder. “Good enough for you to write for?” 

“Your bassist is wicked talented, and sort of fit too, in a deadbeat dad way, but Peter has the best personality of the lot.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Sirius huffed, pointing the cigarette at him. “I already called dibs on Remus.”

“Figured that out all by myself, thanks. You never were subtle about your infatuations.”

“Subtlety doesn’t get you laid.”

Regulus tapped his boots against the pavement idly. “It works fine for me, most of the time.”

“Only because you’re famous,” Sirius teased, tilting his head back to release his haul. “Black family heir and social media star. You don’t even need to be attractive.”

“Wow, still an arsehole. Surprise, surprise.”

Sirius snorted a laugh. “Why change when I’ve reached peak perfection?”

Regulus raked a hand through his hair and gripped it, trying to dredge up an ounce of his brother’s confidence. “How do you do that? Just pretend as though you have your shit together? I can fake it with the business types, but when a bloke like him calls me out, I want to wring his neck.“

“Completely valid reaction to James, honestly,” Sirius replied, grinning at Regulus’s huff. “I’d like to strangle him on a weekly basis.”

“Are you sure he wouldn’t enjoy it? I’d be happy to oblige.”

Sirius shook with silent laughter, letting his forehead fall against Regulus’s shoulder. “Fuck me, he probably would too.”

“Why are the fit ones such arseholes?” 

Sirius scoffed, “Speak for yourself.”

“I was speaking for myself,” Regulus drawled.

“Oh Reggie, don’t let the intrusive thoughts win,” Sirius teased, elbowing his side.

Regulus let the silence fall between them, testing it for tension and awkwardness. They were making progress in reconnecting, but this casual camaraderie still didn’t feel natural to him. Perhaps it was for Sirius. He hoped so. “Does it stop eventually? The constant fear of failure?”

Sirius bobbed his head side to side. “I’m not afraid of it anymore, but it still digs in a bit more than I’d like that I was so close to having what you do now. Knowing how much I gave up for my freedom is as humbling as it is infuriating. I had a lot to lose, but it was worth it.”

“Did you know that when she was on her death bed, Mother was still cursing you for walking away,” Regulus groused, dropping his chin to his chest. “I was right there, holding her hand and sitting resolutely by her side, and she never acknowledged me. I couldn’t measure up to the bar that you set in her mind.”

“Neither did I,” Sirius said, “At the end of the day, I was still queer.”

“It’s kind of funny, if you think about it. They were dead-set against queers, but both of us ended up gay.”

“Karma, I’d say.” Sirius inhaled deeply of his cigarette, the paper sizzling as it burnt down to the filter, and then he set the smoke free.

Regulus closed his eyes and reveled in the strangeness of this moment. Before he left for good, Sirius was his closest mate and only confidant. More than anything, he wanted to rebuild that friendship now that their parents weren’t pitting them against each other. Even when his brother’s favorite cologne was overpowered by the smell of cigarette smoke, Sirius’s presence felt the same. A small comfort in an uncomfortable world.

“Is that a thing for you now? Karma?” Regulus checked. He poked Sirius’s cheek to get his attention. “You never were one for blind faith.”

“Not really, no. It is funny how the universe seems to kick me in the arse when I need it though.” Sirius flicked the cherry off of his cigarette and rolled the filter between his fingers. He narrowed his eyes at the ground, deep in thought for several silent minutes. “If I give you a hint about handling James, will you quit moaning about him? I can’t promise anything, mind. He’s far from predictable in his current state.” 

“Go on then,” Regulus prompted, perking up with interest. He wasn’t entirely sure he still wanted James’s attention anymore, but it didn’t hurt to gather the intel just in case. Fit men make me a fickle fool.

“Here’s the thing, Reggie. James likes riling people up. He actually wants them to tell him off when he’s being a prick. That’s what drew him to Lily in the first place, she didn’t tolerate his bullshit. When you get all flustered, he finds it amusing, but not terribly interesting. If you want his attention, you have to project a ‘fuck off’ attitude,” Sirius explained. He pointed at the new tattoo on Regulus’s hands. “Use that to your advantage. I don’t know why, but he enjoys being antagonized and degraded, so long as it’s playful. There’s a line between the two, and straddling it is his favorite pastime.”

Regulus blinked violently as he processed the information. “So, that bit with Peter really was flirting then? He enjoyed that?”

“Playful flirting, sure. Peter prefers girls from what I’ve seen,” Sirius agreed with a shrug. “I think James likes a challenge more than anything. Not only the chase, but also having to work for every word of praise. If it’s too easy, he doesn’t feel like he’s earned it and loses interest quickly. Remember when I mentioned the constant rows with his ex? He loves that shit because he thinks can redeem himself by earning forgiveness.”

“So, you’re saying to be myself then,” Regulus said quietly. “Snark and sarcasm is practically our third language.”

Sirius sat back and laughed, tilting his head against the wall. “You’re not wrong, petit frère.”

“Piss off. I’m taller than you!” Regulus scoffed. He hated when Sirius called him that, which his brother knew.

“Not by a lot, and you’ll always be younger,” Sirius said flippantly. “It still fits too. I swear, you haven’t changed in years. You still look like a baby-faced lad.”

Regulus stared at him, deadpan. “Skin care, you should try it. Not to mention, smoking gives you premature wrinkles.”

Shoving Regulus’s head away roughly, Sirius rolled his eyes. “Oh piss off, I’m far better looking than you.”

“We’re practically twins, you prat. Our parents often couldn’t tell us apart unless they looked close.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Sirius taunted, prodding Regulus’s shoulder. “Maybe someone else will believe it too.”

“You underestimate how many people at uni never bothered to learn my first name. After a full semester of calling me Sirius on accident, everyone just reverted to ‘Black.’ As if all I had to offer to the world was the name I was born with. Fuck me for having a personality and goals, I guess.”

“Not anymore,” Sirius insisted. “Everyone knows your name now.”

“James doesn’t, which is absurd by the way. I figured he’d look me up at least, and see that I’m worth talking to,” Regulus replied wistfully. 

“Well, he’s an exception in a number of ways. James has never cared much for social media types. He thinks anyone who makes their living on a screen is a self-centered twat. It doesn’t help that we’ve run into a few influencer-types in the past, and he wasn’t impressed,” Sirius said, leaning back on his hands.

“He’s not entirely wrong. I’ve met quite a few at events too, and most are spoiled posh kids with too much time on their hands.”

Sirius released an amused breath. “Just like you.”

“I am not! I have a job, Sirius!” Regulus defended, kicking his brother’s shin. “The social media shit is all Pandora. I write music, then make nice with the suits that she sets up meetings with. I tried to tell him that too and James questioned my integrity.”

“Where are you living?” Sirius asked, clearly determined to prove his point.

“I have a flat downtown.”

“I’ll bet it’s in a real swish neighborhood too.”

“Well, yes, but I have two roommates,” Regulus said pointedly. “I couldn’t afford it otherwise. Social media alone doesn’t pay much and I have to maintain staff to keep up with all of the legal shit. My songs sell because of the time, energy, and promotion they put into it.”

Sirius frowned. “You don’t have a trust fund?”

Regulus’s laugh was harsher than he’d intended, but the notion was truly hilarious. “With what money? Orion Entertainment, Inc. owns everything, Sirius. Our parents lived well above their means on business loans. They always have. There was nothing to inherit except a few antique jewelry pieces that Mother hid away.”

“You’re taking the piss, there was nothing set aside for you?” Sirius demanded, pushing himself upright. “I thought that’s why you stayed?!”

“Oh, no. Father said that I was too young to manage my own money, so when they kicked me out, I had less than a hundred pounds to my name. I wish there was a trust fund. I had to sell my Stradivarius to pay off my tuition. Luckily, social media brings in plenty of commissions.” Giving up his precious violin was still a little painful to think about, but he thought Sirius deserved to know the truth. Sure, Regulus had a few luxuries, but he’d earned them.

“Reggie! Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped. I still have a bit from Uncle Alphard.”

“That’s yours, as it should be,” Regulus refuted. “My songs bring in enough to pay the bills.”

Sirius tilted his head. “Who are your roommates? Anyone I know?”

“Crouch and Rosier,” Regulus replied, amused by Sirius’s huff of annoyance. His brother hated Barty with a passion that Regulus never quite understood. “They aren’t that bad, just a bit full of themselves.”

“Are they still a couple or…”

“What? No!” 

Sirius’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Interesting reaction. They were always together in uni, so I assumed it was a situationship, at least.”

Regulus diverted his gaze across the street, steadfastly ignoring the heat climbing the back of his neck. “Not that I know of, anyway.”

“Which one did you date?” Sirius asked. He never let Regulus get away with anything, the bastard.

“Neither, not properly anyway. Barty and I had a one-off a while back, but that’s it. Evan’s a good sort, but I don’t think he’s into anyone right now. He doesn’t date much.”

“Mmm, Rosier’s like James then? Focused on his work instead?” 

Regulus nodded. “That sounds right. Evan’s leading an amateur local rugby league right now. Hoping to move up into coaching the professional leagues eventually.”

Sirius hummed thoughtfully. “Is he any good?”

“As a player?” Regulus shrugged noncommittally. “Not terrible, but not professional level. He seems to excel at coaching though.”

“You should introduce him to James. That may buy you some goodwill. He loves gushing about his rugby days and how much he misses it.”

“The last thing I need is more competition for his attention,” Regulus groused.

“Speaking of…” Sirius trailed off, head snapping toward the door as it flew open and smacked hard against the brick. The door handle had barely missed his head. “Oi! Take it easy, arsehole!”

James leaned out and arched an eyebrow, looking Sirius up and down. “Are you protective of doors now too? Here I thought that was reserved for your drums.”

“Do not touch my kit!” Sirius snapped, rising to his feet. He tossed the cigarette butt at the bin and charged inside. 

“Calm your tits. I didn’t touch your precious bongos,” James teased, holding the door open for him. Apparently, he was intent on riling up everyone today.

Good to know I wasn’t singled out, Regulus mused. He stood up and brushed off his trousers, preparing to accompany the antagonistic pair back inside. There was still a band practice to monitor, and hiding outside was unprofessional. 

Sirius ducked under James’s arm and swatted at his chest. “Best not or I’ll hide all of your cables.”

“Oh sod off! I swear, you do that already!” James said, following him inside. “They are never where I left them.”

Regulus stopped abruptly as the door slammed closed behind them, right in his face. For a long moment, he stared at it and wondered if pulling James was worth any of this. I don’t even think he’s interested.

With a huff, he briskly pulled the door open and slipped inside. Regulus could take snark to an impressive level when motivated, and now he was motivated. Sirius clearly wanted a good view of the incoming altercation without catching any of the heat himself, as he’d slowed behind James’s longer strides and peered back at him curiously. It was as if he was silently cheering Regulus on.  Please let him be on my side for once.

“All right, let’s hear something performance worthy,” Pandora instructed, consulting her tablet. “Enough playing around and taking smoke breaks. Our time is valuable.”

James slipped his guitar strap over his head and fiddled with the frets, obviously less than thrilled with being ordered around. Perhaps, that was why the band hadn’t hired a manager, or chosen a name. If this attitude of his was going to be a problem, Regulus didn’t want the responsibility falling on Pandora to rein them in. She had enough on her plate, and wasn’t paid enough to manage this many egos at once.

Peter cleared his throat and suggested, “‘Talk Too Much’ by COIN? Did you have time to learn that one, Remus?”

Remus adjusted his hold on his stunning sapphire bass, which Regulus coveted terribly. “Go on, James. I’ll sort it out along the way.”

James started strumming without a count in, looking properly annoyed now. Sirius and Remus joined him, followed by Peter when his part picked up. The song was fairly straight-forward to play, but James dropped the melody into a lower octave. Interestingly, the guitar riffs appeared to cheer him up a bit. Regulus made a mental note of both observations. 

Leaning into the mic, James sang low and slow on the first verse. When the tempo picked up for the chorus, Sirius sang an octave higher in the background.

"I'll take my time. I'm not the forward thinker. 
You read my mind. Better to leave it unsaid.
Why can't I leave it unsaid?
You know I talk too much. 

Honey, come put your lips on mine and shut me up. 
We could blame it all on human nature.
Stay cool, it's just a kiss.”

Regulus held his fist against his mouth in an attempt to hide his reaction. The lyrics weren’t even provocative, but he swallowed hard When James threw his head back and rocked his hips to the beat. If the lead singer’s eyes were open, Regulus was certain he would have laughed at him. It was simply impossible to ignore every delicious movement when James was performing for him alone. Well, for him and Pandora, technically.

When they hit the bridge, James swiveled around and faced Sirius. His brother joined in at the chorus and added background vocalizations to the next verse. Shifting to the side, James made room for Remus at his mic to harmonize with him. It was improvised on the fly, but it worked. Remus’s voice was much lower and smoother, surprisingly.

As the song came to a close, James opened his eyes and grinned at Remus proudly. Standing so close together, it looked almost…intimate. 

Regulus dropped his gaze just in time to see Sirius’s smile fade as he pounded out the final beats to the song. His brother appeared to be equally disturbed by the brief interaction between his band mates. Distracted, Sirius gripped the drumsticks a little too firmly, and with the last crash of the cymbals, one of the drumsticks broke in half and flew across the stage. 

“Look out!” Sirius cried, lunging forward. 

The shattered end of the drumstick missed James’s face by inches and sent him reeling back. His head snapped up and he held his hands out in immediate surrender. The shock on James’s face was mirrored in Remus’s, but hardly compared to the apologetic cringe on his brother’s. Regulus bit back a grin, more than a little impressed at his aim. Three inches to the right would have chased that smug grin off of his face.

“Sirius!” James chastised. He released the strap on his guitar so fast that it snapped in the air, punctuating his sharp tone. “What was that for?”

“Accident, it happens,” Sirius replied. Regulus could practically see the fury that was bubbling under the surface, despite Sirius’s attempt to mask it. “Maybe you shouldn’t put your face in front of my sticks.”

Peter dissolved into a giggling fit and dropped down behind his keyboard. Rolling his eyes, Sirius spun on the stool and dug into his bag for another drumstick. Regulus knew the sticks could break on their own with heavy use, but that incident was entirely on Sirius. Given the unusual way he’d gripped them, Regulus wouldn’t have been surprised if his brother was considering hurling the whole drumstick at James when it happened.  That, I would pay to see. 

He glanced at Pandora, then turned around with her to discuss the band. She wasn’t convinced the band was worth their time, but Regulus saw the appeal to their fans. They were magnetic when they connected musically, despite the chaos off-stage.

“This is going to be a logistical nightmare,” Pandora warned in a low whisper. “Setting up a sitting area here is one thing, but they don’t have control of the space. It will have to be something we can set-up and take down before the weekend, each week.”

Regulus nodded. “I know. What if we brought in two-seater sofas? They are lighter, yes? We could keep a trailer nearby.”

“That could work,” she agreed reluctantly. “Preferably hand–me-down sofas, so if they get ruined in this…place, it’s no great loss.”

“So, what do you think?” James asked impatiently, propping his fist on his hip. 

Regulus glanced up, meeting his gaze defiantly with a bored half-shrug. “It wasn’t terrible, but I’d like to hear a song requiring technical skill. The harmonies were decent, but all of you played it safe. I need to know your limits: how high you can sing, how well each of you play your instruments, etcetera."

“Oh. All right then.” James glanced back at Peter and asked, “What do you think? Queen?”

“Bohemian Rhapsody, but not the whole thing,” Peter recommended. He turned to Sirius and waved him over. “Swap with me, this one’s out of my range and you can hear James better.”

Sirius jumped up from his stool and carried his mic over to the keyboard to set it up directly behind James. Then he crossed the stage to set up a third mic for Remus, who watched him warily. That isn’t even the tip of Sirius’s temper, it’s a warning shot, Regulus mused.

“There,” Sirius said, glancing at Remus. “You know this one, right?”

Remus nodded slowly, his eyes flitting over Sirius’s face. He played a little of the beginning baseline of “Bohemian Rhapsody” and lifted his eyebrows in question. 

“That’ll do.” 

As Sirius walked back to his new position behind the keyboard, Remus’s eyes followed him. He was justifiably spooked by the near miss with the drumstick. Way to go, Sirius. You’ve scared him off.

“1, 2, 3…” Peter led in.

This song was definitely a little high in places for James, but Sirius had the challenge of a heavy use of falsetto and the intricate piano parts.   

“Mama, Just killed a man. 
Put a gun against his head, 
pulled my trigger, now he's dead.

But now I've gone and thrown it all away.
Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry.
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow.
Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters."

James sang the verses, but struggled to smooth his voice enough to imitate Freddie Mercury. Anything in Queen’s style would be a stretch for him. He simply didn’t have the range to do it justice, and he knew it. The intense concentration on his face gave him away.

The rest of the band muddled along until Sirius improvised an abrupt ending after the “Galileo, Galileo” bit that Regulus hated. Remus and Peter bopped along as best they could during the longest song in their repertoire. It wasn’t great, but it was decent considering the advanced skill level required for that particular song.

Eventually, Peter tossed the drumsticks in the air and wolf-whistled. “Well, fuck. That was pretty bloody good!”

James grinned. “Agreed.”

“Better,” Pandora said flatly, tapping her nails on her tablet. “One more. Let’s hear a ballad, and we need to hear from the bassist.”

“All yours, Remus,” James said, reaching down to unplug from the amp. 

Remus inhaled sharply. “You want me to sing the lead part? I don’t think–”

“Just as an example,” Pandora insisted. “We already know what Sirius can do. Potter illustrated his chops and now we want yours.”

Regulus nodded encouragingly. “Your tone is quite good, Lupin. Feel free to face the lads, if you prefer. I just need to hear your vocal range.”

“Right,” Remus said, tentatively reaching down to unplug from his amp. 

James switched sides with him so that Remus could use the better mic. Behind them, Peter and Sirius swapped back to their usual instruments as well. Just as well, I need to see where Peter’s skill level is too.

James glanced back at Peter. “Suggestions?”

Peter studied Remus for a long moment, then turned to Sirius. “Can you take the high parts of ‘Out of My Head?’” 

“Mm-hmm. Remus, do you know that one?” Sirius asked.

“I can give it a go?” Remus offered sheepishly. 

James dug into his pocket and offered him a pick. “For good luck?”

“Thanks.” 

Regulus watched the pick exchange hands with rapt fascination. Giving a band mate a new pick for “good luck” appeared to be a superstition for James, or perhaps a right of passage within the band. If nothing else, it was a blatant show of acceptance. Would he give one to me, if I asked?

All James had done was hand Remus a new pick, yet Remus stared at it as if he had given him a precious stone. It’s just a pick. Why is he being weird about it?

With a shaky inhale, Remus shook out his arms and settled into position. “Right, the Fastball version?”

“Obviously,” Sirius said. He counted in and they began the slow, steady intro in sync.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m drunk behind the wheel. 
The wheel of possibility, however it may roll.” 

Remus sang with his eyes focused on a spot on the wall well above their audience’s head. 

“Give it a spin, see if you can somehow factor in. 
You know there’s always more than one way
to say exactly what you mean to say.”

As the song continued, James’s attention flitted between Regulus and Sirius. Both brothers were staring at Remus with equal measures of fascination, while Sirius wore the biggest goon-grin he’d ever seen and Regulus remained completely entranced. A strange prickle on the back of James’s neck unsettled him. Sure, Remus had a smooth, deep voice. The sort of depth that gave the song a resonance it lacked otherwise, but did Regulus have to look at Remus like that?

Remus wrapped up the song with the final two lines, letting his voice fall off at the end, as if relieved to finally be done with it. 

“So quiet, but I finally woke up. 
If you’re sad, then it’s time you spoke up too.”

“Wow, that was incredible!” Pandora gushed, eyes wide in surprise.

Regulus hummed in agreement. “Well done. You’re a much better choice to take the lead on ballads, Lupin. Your voice suits them.”

Stepping back from the mic, Remus dropped his chin to his chest and clutched his bass. His face flushed as he shrugged noncommittally. “I’d rather stick to harmonies, if it’s all the same to you. The lead singer has too much pressure.”

James shifted uncomfortably, frustrated with the praise lavished on Remus. He repressed the urge to defend himself, even though he really wanted to. Where was this energy when I was singing? He gets “incredible” and “well done,” but all I get is “better?”

“James?” Peter called out, breaking his reverie. “Duets would work, yeah? You and Remus sound great together.”

“Oh, sure. Whatever is fine,” James answered vaguely. “I wasn’t the lead to start with anyway. Just picked it up ‘cause I had to.” 

Sirius cleared his throat and shot a pointed look at him, as if James had called him out. “Right, well. I think the point is that Remus doesn’t want it, but we can be flexible with the lead, if necessary.” 

“That’s where it stands for now,” James agreed readily. “Are you interested in writing for us, or not?” 

Regulus studied James with a long, calculating look. “Are you open to voice lessons, Potter? I could–”

James’s jaw tightened and he crossed his arms over his chest. “No.”

“Your loss,” Regulus said, his cheeks pink as he turned to Pandora. “I think I can work with them, but they need discipline if they’re going to make it worth the investment of my time and energy. I won’t make any royalties off of the songs if they never get recorded.”

“Agreed,” Pandora replied, eyeing James narrowly. “Here’s the bottom line. If you intend to take this seriously, your band has potential. The first step is hiring a manager, preferably one that can keep all of you focused.”

Sirius snorted derisively. “We do just fine without one.”

“Well, we do have Lily,” Peter suggested, pulling out his mobile and tapping furiously at his screen. “She’s the one who schedules most of our gigs anyway, since she has connections.” 

James barely repressed an eye roll. Oh great, bring my ex into the mix. That will make this so much easier. 

“We do not need Lily ordering us around,” James grumbled. He set his guitar on its stand and stepped off the stage. “I don’t take orders from anyone.”

“Actually, James. It’s not a bad idea. Lily already knows all of us and is rather good at organization.” Remus held out a hand in supplication and offered an apologetic smile. “Besides, she brought me around, so she’s obviously invested in the band.”

“That’s true,” Sirius agreed quietly, avoiding James’s glare. “What? They all have good points. Weren’t you the one who insisted we make a proper go at a record deal?”

“Listen, Lily is around the corner anyway. Let’s bring her in and ask,” Peter said. “She could say ‘no’ and the whole conversation could be moot anyway.” 

Sirius nodded, clearly relieved that James wasn’t only annoyed with him. “Very likely. Why would she want to put up with us?”

James was sure Lily would refuse. Although she thrived on managing chaos and thoroughly enjoyed taking charge, she already had a career. There was a time when he admired that drive and determination, but not today.

Within minutes, Lily arrived with Mary in tow. The pair strolled hand in hand down the hallway from the front door, bantering playfully. James had a visceral urge to shout at them, Stop acting like everything is fine! Nothing about this is fine!

“Lily! We have a request,” Peter said, scurrying away from the stage to meet her. “Pandora is Regulus’s publicist, and she says we need a manager. Since you’re practically doing the job already, I…that is, we thought you could step in full time. What do you think?”

“The pay is shit,” James added, stepping off the stage. He hated asking anyone for help, especially Lily.

She grinned at Mary, then at Peter. “I take it by his tone that Jamie’s not a fan of this idea? What a shocking development.”

James was surprised to see Regulus’s head snap up at the nickname. The bloke turned toward the newcomers, then sighed as he rubbed two fingers at each temple. Glancing at Sirius, Regulus’s eyes flitted to Lily meaningfully. Sirius gave a curt nod as he walked closer to his brother and Pandora. 

What was that about? Why would he be bothered about Lily?

“James is fussed that Remus has a better voice,” Sirius said dismissively. “His pretty peacock feathers have been ruffled.”

“Oh, piss off,” James snapped. His patience was stretched thin as it was after dealing with Regulus and Pandora’s criticism. He didn’t need Sirius bagging on him as well.

“Remus sang for you? That’s interesting.” Lily turned to face the bassist with a sly grin. “What happened to keeping it ‘low key?’”

“I was coerced,” Remus huffed, setting his bass aside. “I already refused to sing lead. They know I don’t want it.”

Lily surveyed the band with interest, and James was startled to realize she was actually considering it. Under no circumstances was he going to surrender his band to his ex’s control. No fucking way!

“Oh do it, Lils. This will be entertaining. It’s been so long since I’ve seen a James and Lily showdown.” Mary giggled with delight as she wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders. She wriggled her eyebrows teasingly at James, before nodding toward Regulus and Pandora. “He looks familiar.”

“Pretty sure that’s Sirius’s brother,” Lily said.

Sirius stepped forward to do introductions. “Regulus, this is Mary McDonald and Lily Evans. Two of our friends who happen to be dating.” Then, he turned to Lily and Mary. “This is my brother, Regulus Black. He’s a songwriter, royal pain in the arse, and–”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Mary interrupted, squeezing Lily tighter. “Regulus Black? I’ve heard of you!”

“Mm-hmm,” Lily agreed. “Are you planning to work with them?” 

Regulus offered a tight smile and nodded politely. “Very likely, but they need a manager to keep up with them. I have limited time for this.”

“All right then, I’m in between projects anyway.” Lily smiled genuinely at Regulus, and it made James’s stomach roil in protest. “Plus, I’d love to see you in action. Your work is impressive.”

“Oh, thank you,” Regulus replied, openly surprised. He straightened his back and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet the two of you.”

“Honey, the pleasure is all ours,” Mary assured him, taking his hand.

Lily reached for his hand when Mary released it. “Let me have a quick chat with the lads, then I’ll have a look at your proposal.”

Regulus nodded. “Perfect. I always appreciate a direct to the point kind of person.”

After a brief conversation, Lily turned to face James with a patient smile. It was the look she adopted when he was being profoundly unreasonable. It’s not nearly as effective as it used to be.

“Jamie,” Lily began, “I’m sure we can sort things out. This doesn’t have to be combative. Your band is still yours.” 

“No orders and no creative control,” he replied curtly. James forcefully repressed the uglier side of his nature as he stared her down. “We decide what we sing. That is non-negotiable.”

Lily held her hands up in mock surrender. “Fair enough. A majority vote from the band on any disagreements should be an equitable way to handle things.” 

Which was when it hit him. A majority vote is useless if they were all indebted to her. Agreeing to take on this role all but assured that Lily would have the final say. Remus and Peter weren’t likely to vote against her, and Sirius tended to give in to her. If James tried to argue with her on anything, he would be immediately outvoted, and she knew that. He could tell from the way she immediately switched into “manager mode” that he had no chance. Well, fuck. She played me.

“Don’t pout, James,” Sirius teased, swatting his shoulder. “It’s not that bad. Lily loves the band.”

“Oh really, you wouldn’t mind Fabian managing us then?” James shot back. Frustration leeched through every pore of his skin.

Sirius propped his hands on his hips. “That’s not the same thing, and you know it. You two are friends now, right? Just rein in your ego and let her do what she does best.”

“Ego isn’t the issue,” James retorted. He scowled at the animated conversation between Lily and their remaining band mates. Remus had one arm over each of the women’s shoulders and Peter was excitedly gesturing in front of them. I have no chance.

“Isn’t it?” Sirius checked. “You have to give her a chance. Let’s wait and see, all right?”

James sighed. “Fine. Whatever you want. No one cares what I think anyway.”

“Don’t act like that,” Sirius chastised. “It’s for the good of the band, which is your priority. Running the socials and handling logistics was the whole reason you don’t have time to date, correct? Now, you do.”

“What does that have to do with this?” 

“It means you can calm the fuck down and quit stressing about everything,” Sirius replied calmly. “In fact, Lily could probably manage the social media side too. Maybe she should, actually.”

Lily leaned into their conversation and held out her hand. “Of course I will. So, let’s get started.” 

James fumed, but he didn’t have much choice. The rest of the band were fully on board with Lily in charge. Reluctantly, he unlocked his mobile and handed it to her. She can’t do much worse than I did. 

Lily swiped through the social media apps, then scrunched up her nose. “So, your Instagram needs a lot of work, but Tik Tok and Spotify look decent. Are you posting anywhere else?”

“No, I can’t keep up with more than three platforms. I set-up accounts where the fan base existed already,” James said.

“Let’s sort out what image you want to project and I’ll compile a list of suggestions,” Lily said, handing back his mobile. “It won’t take long.”

“Today?” Sirius checked. “I don’t want to lose momentum with Reggie. His involvement is bound to draw attention, and we should take advantage of that.”

Lily nodded. “Agreed. This collaboration could launch the band to popularity pretty quickly. We need to be prepared to offer new fans content to entertain them while we get performances set up, and hopefully, new music recorded.”

“Like what?” James asked, eyeing them curiously. He’d found that sharing clips and videos from their performances was marginally successful, but had no idea how else to stir up attention online. “We don’t have to do those stupid trends, do we?”

“I will!” Peter volunteered eagerly. “Me and Sirius could try to do the dancing ones.”

Lily shook her head. “We can look at that, but the main thing you want on your TikTok is your music and human interest posts. We also need to put out content that grabs attention. Not just your music though. Your normal chaos can be quite entertaining.”

“You want to record our bullshit sessions?” Sirius asked, grinning wide. “That’s brilliant.”

“We need to build a connection with the audience. Let them learn a bit more about you,” Lily suggested.

James sighed in resignation. “Fine, but I refuse to become a meme. The whole point of this is to perform professionally and have the band mean something. Not just jump from pub to pub singing at amateur hours.”

Peter nodded avidly. “Agreed.”

“Excellent, that’s Remus’s goal as well,” Lily said, clasping her hands together. “It will be fun, you’ll see, Jamie.”

“If you say so,” James muttered. He sat on the edge of the stage and toyed with the cables just to keep his hands busy.

Sirius bounded across the room to Regulus’s side, like a complete twit. “You’re going to do it, right? Lily’s on board and she’s convinced James to behave.”

For now. I made no promises to play nice.

“Yes, so long as we get an agreement signed,” Regulus answered. “I won’t charge you a fee, just royalties on any songs you record.”

“Are you sure, Regulus? This is going to be a lot of work,” Pandora pointed out, tapping on her tablet. “If we could convince Lupin to take lead for the ballads, it would be easier. He seems to have more formal training than Potter.” She glanced at Sirius. “Even you would be easier to work with.”

Sod off with your “formal training.”

“It’s fine,” Regulus said, meeting her gaze defiantly. “It will be an adjustment, but if Taylor Swift can switch genres, I’m sure I can manage it too.”

“You are not Taylor Swift. She has decades of experience and die-hard fans,” Pandora replied, shaking her head. “Your work is new, Reg. You need to stick to your strengths right now, not start experimenting.”

Sirius glanced between them curiously. “So…yes?”

“Yes,” Regulus answered definitively. Without hesitation, Sirius pulled him into a tight hug. 

Regulus scoffed, then swatted his brother’s arms away. “That’s enough of that. This is your main practice area, right?”

“Yes,” Sirius replied. “We normally book the space for Tuesdays and Thursdays, but we can up it to all weekdays, if needed. The space is rented out to a couple of local punk bands for impromptu performances on the weekends though. If we’re lucky, we schedule gigs on the weekends at the pubs, which keeps us busy.”

“Would you mind if I joined your practices regularly? It would help me fit the lyrics to your personalities,” Regulus explained. “Spending time with the performers I write for is part of my process.”

More interrupted practices? Grand. Just grand, James fumed. 

“Fine by me. Not a lot of comfortable seating here,” Sirius pointed out, “but you’re welcome to–”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Pandora dismissed, shaking her head. “We’ll set up our own.”

Regulus glanced past Sirius’s shoulder with a rueful expression. “Lily seems nice.”

“She is, most of the time,” Sirius agreed. “Actually, I think you’d like her. She’s intense, like you.”

James nearly laughed at the absurdity of that comment. Fuck off. They’re nothing alike. Lily is fierce and volatile, this bloke gets overwhelmed by eye contact.

Lily chose that moment to walk up and kick James’s shoe. “Hey, cut the moody shit. It’s not my fault that your friends like me better than you.”

“Hilarious.”

“You’re still doing that ‘wallowing in self-pity’ thing, huh? Thought you’d be past that by now.”

James glared, barely repressing his frustration. Everyone was determined to kick him in the bollocks for a laugh today, and he’d had enough. The last thing he needed was Lily getting one more hit in. “No, I’m not ‘past’ anything. I actually loved you, so it’s a little harder for me. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Don’t start that,” Lily said, sighing heavily. “This has nothing to do with us and everything to do with your control issues.”

“Control? You want to talk about control?” James mocked, standing up. “I didn’t get a say in any of it, remember? You made all the bloody decisions then, just like you’re doing now. Is there still a piece of me that you haven’t trampled on yet? Should I pull my heart out and spread it on the floor for you? Fuck knows you prefer taking the easy way out.”

Lily stared up at him, but didn’t take the bait. It would have been so easy for her to throw his mistakes right back in his face. There were plenty to choose from. He wanted her to shout at him, to make him eat his words. Instead, she shrugged it off like it didn’t bother her. Like I don’t matter.

“Pandora’s right, your attitude and ego are holding everyone else back. Remus and Sirius are better singers, but you have to be the center of attention. If you’d pull your head out of your arse, then this band could actually improve,” Lily said calmly. She was entirely unfazed by the pent up fury radiating off of him in waves.

I’m the problem. Of course. It’s never her fault.

James clenched his hands into fists and closed his eyes, trying to find the solitary shred of the patience he’d clung to all day long. It was long gone. His lungs burned with each aborted breath as his pulse pounded in his chest. If he didn’t walk away, he was going to melt down in front of everyone. 

With anxiety threatening to take over, James opened his eyes and walked. Each step faster than the last as he ran away from their judgmental stares. He threw open the door and sucked in clean air, ignoring Sirius’s calls after him. 

I’m the problem. I’m useless. I’m holding everyone back. Lily’s words echoed in his mind. She never held back, and she never lied. James once joked that she kept him humble. It wasn’t a joke anymore.

James sprinted across the car park and into the empty lot behind it. He scaled the fence with spite and pure adrenaline running through his veins, ripping his jeans when loose threads caught on the wire. It didn’t matter. What was one more hole when the people he cared about hated him?

The spiral was approaching faster now, sucking him in. His eyes unfocused and his head throbbed. That’s why the band is slow to take off. The others have to carry me and my ego.

“James! Wait!”

An unsteady gait followed him, and a surge of guilt slowed his pace. Remus’s limp was more pronounced than before. Remembering the fence he’d just jumped, James winced, then stopped abruptly and turned around. If he hurt himself because of my mad dash, I’ll never forgive myself.

Remus slowed too, chest heaving with the effort. He reached the fence before James and leaned against it. Gasping for air, Remus waved helplessly. “Need…a…min…ute.”

“You didn’t have to come after me,” James said, gripping Remus’s shoulder. Worried, he shoved his own problems down, deep inside and refused to cave to the emotions tumbling after. “I had to walk away, or I would have exploded.”

Leaning into James’s hand, Remus tried to catch his breath. “Yeah, I know….but I wanted to. You can…talk to me. If…you want.”

“No need. It’s nothing imp—”

“Don’t do that,” Remus insisted, tipping his head back and inhaling deeply. He closed his eyes as a muscle in his shoulder spasmed. “Don’t…brush me off.”

Guilt and empathy surged through James. He shouldn’t have assumed that Remus wanted comfort, Lily often didn’t. “It’s not that, or even because it’s you. I just… My nerves feel exposed and raw, like my skin isn’t even there. The smallest irritation makes me want to scream, and if I don’t react, then I may well combust. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. I know exactly what…you mean,” Remus said, clearing his throat roughly. “When I feel like shit…I can’t stand people staring. I have to get away. Kind of…get nasty about it too.”

“Yeah. That’s it,” James said, relieved.

He grabbed the top rail of the fence and hopped over with a little more effort, his adrenaline and momentum wasted. Just like before, his pants snagged on the sharp wire. Unlike before, the wires didn’t let go and his leg was harshly snapped back against the fence. 

“Oh! James, you-your—” Remus spluttered.

“Shit, shit. Fuck!” James flailed for what felt like a full minute before he was unceremoniously dumped on the ground with a loud rip as his hip pocket tore open. He landed with a grunt and rolled onto his back. Lifting the ruined flap of fabric which now exposed his bright red boxer-briefs, James groaned. “Fuck’s sake, I liked these jeans too.”

Remus bit down hard on his bottom lip, clearly fighting back a laugh. Exasperated, James swatted at his legs, which only made that laugh break free. 

“I can’t…believe that just…happened,” Remus wheezed, dropping his hands to his knees as laughter overwhelmed him. “Oh my god, I can’t…breathe!”

“Shut it, Lupin,” James said, but couldn’t help chuckling at himself. Remus’s absurd snort-laugh-wheeze combination was hilarious and possibly even more embarrassing than his fall.

As soon as Remus seemed to have himself under control, loud hiccups interrupted his attempts to breathe deeply, and restarted the cycle of laughter all over again. Eventually, Remus stood upright, clutching his belly and wincing hard. “Haven’t laughed that hard in years, it hurts.”

“Spend more time around us and we’ll build your tolerance,” James teased. “Especially Sirius, he is remarkably clumsy around you. Funny coincidence, isn’t it?”

Remus sobered rather quickly. “Pass.”

James had straightened himself out during the giggle fit, but was still brushing off the dirt on his arms. He paused, wary of the sudden mood shift. “Why? Do you have a problem with him?”

Please don’t be homophobic. Lily vouched for you. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, because I know he’s your friend. Sirius is a bit obnoxious, that’s all.”

“Okay, but so am I, and you like me just fine. Right?” James pointed out. 

Remus shrugged. “Well, yeah. You don’t stare at me like I’m a zoo exhibit.”

Shit. That’s not on. James cringed. “I don’t want to speak for him, but—”

“Then don’t,” Remus said, cutting him off. “Focus on yourself, it sounds like you have things to sort out.”

He was right, so James allowed the diversion for now. However, he would have to talk to Sirius about the staring. If it was making Remus uncomfortable, it needed to stop. 

“Right, well, I’m not sure I can talk about Lily with you. No offense, Remus.”

“That’s fair, but you should talk to someone,” Remus said, bumping his shoulder lightly. “Are you writing about it? Peter mentioned that you dabble in songwriting yourself.”

“I do, but it’s private.”

James was unsure how much Peter knew about his notebook of songs. Most of them would either never be finished or be appropriate for public consumption because they were too personal, unbearably sad, or generally shit. He didn’t want to share any of it with the rest of the world, let alone his band mates. Everyone will know it’s about Lily if I released one of those songs now, and I won’t subject her to that scrutiny again.

All it would take was one critical song that is clearly about her to light a fire beneath the arses of the band’s local fans. They were oddly protective of him, for some reason. It was as if they innately sensed his vulnerability and were determined to ward off potential enemies, which was more than a little unnerving when their ire was aimed at his girlfriend.

Remus fell into a tense silence on the way back to the practice hall, and James hoped he hadn’t ruined their budding friendship. Then Remus looked up, grimaced, and looked away. It took James a minute to realize why, and when he did, he sighed. Sirius, Regulus, and Peter were gathered around the open door waiting for them. 

“Stand down, Sirius. I’m fine,” James said. 

“I was worried, that’s all,” Sirius defended, striding forward. “You can’t just take off like that, James. It freaks me out. We’re on your side, remember?”

“I know, I know. I needed to get some air. It’s too bloody crowded with opinions in there.”

“True, but you know how this goes. If we’re going to make a real go at this, we have to deal with the suits too. Lily’s just a prettier version of the suits,” Sirius said, side-eyeing Remus as he led the way inside.

Leave it to Sirius to make sense of my shit before I say a word about it.

“Jamie,” Lily started, in that sweet tone she used with petulant children. He’d prefer it if she told him off. “I didn’t mean that your voice was terrible. Remus has the voice for ballads, yours is better suited to the angsty shit, and Sirius’s is best for pop and harmonies. You all have your talents, and there’s no shame in sharing the spotlight.”

“Yeah, fine,” James sighed, unwilling to argue the point further. “Let’s get this over with.”

She reached up and patted his cheek as he passed. “Don’t take it personally. I think it could be a really positive spin to have all three of you alternate like Peter and Sirius do on instruments. It adds a bit of flavor to the band and makes you more flexible in your genre.”

Mary nodded solemnly, all traces of teasing gone. “Give it a chance, James. You may surprise yourselves.”

“Especially with Regulus writing for you,” Lily added. “He’s incredibly talented. There are a lot of performers clamoring for his attention, and he chose to work with you lot. That means he sees potential, and I do too.”

James’s head snapped up. “You do?”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t waste my time helping you if I didn’t. Now stop centering all of your self-worth behind the words and opinions of everyone else, and tuck your ego back in your pants. We have work to do.” Lily waved him away dismissively.

Just then, Remus ducked his head and made his way around the group. He headed for the stage, avoiding a pointed look from Lily. Sirius glanced from one to the other, then followed him. 

“Hey, Remus,” Sirius said, stepping up onto the stage. “I was wondering–”

“Don’t bother,” Remus replied flatly. He busied himself straightening out the cords to the amps, crouching down to untangle a few. “I’m not interested in whatever you’re offering.”

Sirius looked affronted. “If this is about the drumstick, I swear that was an accident. I–”

“It’s not about the drumstick,” Remus replied.

James tried to ignore the spat and focused on packing up, assuming it was best to let them get it all out now. Sirius would realize that Remus wasn’t interested and hopefully stop staring like a creep. Not that I have much room to talk. 

He sneaked another look at Regulus, who was standing off to the side chatting with Lily and Mary. James hadn’t seen that alliance coming and wasn’t thrilled about it. Dealing with Pandora and Lily was bad enough, but the combined energy of those four was a recipe for disaster: a pair of control freaks and their enablers.

“Fine. If you want to pretend I’m an arsehole, go on then,” Sirius snapped, startling James from his thoughts. “Of the two of us, you’re the only one making snap judgements.”

“Oh piss off, Black,” Remus retorted. “Don’t think I couldn’t see right through you from minute one. You’re exactly the type to fuck around. Even James called you a slag.”

Oh shit! James hurriedly untangled himself from the cables he was wrapping up.

Eyes wide, Sirius swiveled around lightning fast. He crossed the space between them and shoved Remus’s chest. “I have never cheated! Not once. So shove your self-righteous bullshit straight up your own arse and choke on it.” 

James jumped up on the stage and grabbed Sirius’s shoulders, pulling him back. “Whoa! What’s going on here?”

“Your prick of a bassist thinks I’m a gutter slut,” Sirius shot back, wrenching his arms from James’s hold. He pushed James out of his way and began loudly packing up his drum kit. “Great job vetting him, James. I’m out of here.”

“Hold on, where is this coming from?” James asked, scowling at Remus. “Explain yourself.”

Remus shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, I made my point.”

“Are you basing that point on my song earlier?”

“Yes.”

“I was taking the piss, mate,” James refuted, shaking his head. “Sirius is the most loyal person I know. Fuck knows how many blokes have cheated on him though, especially the last one.”

James vividly remembered the day Marlene broke the news. She’d seen Fabian at a club going wild with some bloke that wasn’t Sirius. When she called to tell him, the bartender interrupted and said that Fabian was a well known slag around the club, always shagging in the loo or even out in the open. Later that day, James found Fabian at the practice hall and lost his shit. He had never been so angry before, and that fury hadn’t fully cooled since. I opened a box I couldn’t close.

“It doesn’t matter to Lupin. He’s already decided that I’m a sleazy ponce after one week of playing together. Clearly, he knows me better than you do,” Sirius snarked, collecting his bag from the floor and sifting through it. 

“Now hold on,” James replied, hands out in supplication. “Sirius has more integrity in his pinkie finger than his ex had in his whole body. Even if he didn’t, we stand together. That’s my line in the sand, Remus, so you’ll have to decide if you want to cross it.”

Remus huffed. “You’re saying that I’m wrong?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying,” James said sternly. “I vouch for him, and that should be good enough for you. Just like Lily’s word for you was good enough for me.” 

Lily waved her arms in the air. “Oi! What’s with the row? I thought we were practicing.”

Realizing he finally had an ally, James pointed at Lily. “Tell Remus what you think of Fabian, Sirius’s ex.”

“He’s shit. If that prick comes anywhere near one of my lads, his arse is asphalt,” she retorted, practically spitting with fury. Lily folded her arms over her middle. “That pissant hurt my Sirius, and he’s the sweetest of the lot.”

The knot of tension drained from James’s body. She may be intense and critical, but he admired Lily’s loyalty to her friends. Lily took Sirius’s word from minute one. When others questioned if Fabian was the one cheating, Lily had defended him without hesitation.

Remus glanced between the three of them and shrugged. “If Lily says so, then I can’t argue with that.”

“Great. James, pints?” Peter asked, hands twisting anxiously. He hated confrontations. “I think we’ve done enough for today.”

“Yeah, all right,” he agreed, sliding his guitar in its case. They did normally go out on Friday nights anyway, but with multiple rows at practice, he’d expected to skip it.

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all agreed, but before James could suggest the pub down the street, Sirius piped up. “Oi! Reggie! Want to join us for a drink tonight?”

His brother glanced over his shoulder and nodded. “Yes. That’s fine.”

So much for a relaxing night. 

“Excellent!” Sirius enthused, dragging his drum kit closer to the door. He was in a far better mood, but avoided eye contact with Remus. 

James wondered if he’d added Regulus as a buffer. It’s fine. I can tolerate him, for Sirius’s sake. 

“Have fun, enjoy your freedom,” Lily advised, waving at them as her girlfriend pulled her toward the front door. “If this collab blows up like I think it will, you’ll wish you did!”

James slung his guitar over his shoulder, grabbed the largest of Sirius’s cases, and headed for the back door. Once everything was loaded in the van, he climbed into the driver’s seat and waited for the rest to pile in. Perhaps a pub night was what he needed.

Sirius opened the passenger door and hauled himself inside. Then, he hung out the window and waved at his brother. “Meet us at The Black Dog, and try to blend in, Reggie.”

“Understood,” Regulus agreed, following Pandora to her Fiat. 

“Was it really necessary to invite him?” James asked, glancing back to assure the other two had seat belts on. “He’ll probably spend the whole night on his mobile recording his adventure into the world of regular people.”

A deep frown settled on Sirius’s face. “You do realize that he doesn’t plan or record his own content, right? There’s a team of people responsible for that. He just writes songs, lives his life, and they edit it into content. Reggie is an introvert.”

“Cameras follow him around all day? That sounds awful,” James replied, shoving the key into the ignition and listening to the engine roar to life.

“May as well get used to the idea,” Sirius pointed out. “If we blow up like Lily expects, the media and the public will want just as much of our attention as his.”

“Absolutely not. They can have me on stage, but off-stage, I am off-limits.” 

“That’s not really how fame works, James,” Peter piped up. “Don’t worry though, Sirius and I will deflect attention as much as possible.”

Sirius nodded. “Right. We don’t mind being the faces of the band online.”

“Perhaps,” Remus agreed reluctantly, “but we can’t leave everything to you. You heard Lily, fans have to connect with us. That said, there’s no way I could live my life fully in the public eye. It would drain me of the will to live.”

“Well, good thing there’s four of us then,” Peter said. “We can share the workload a bit, rotate if you will. Not all of us have to be at every press event, right?”

Sirius shrugged. “I don’t see why we would, and if James wants to play the camera-shy arsehole guitarist, I’m all right with that.”

“Yes, let’s pretend that’s a role and not half of his personality,” Peter snarked, giggling wildly at James’s gasp of offense.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“First round is on me,” James called out, heading down to the bar from their usual booth. No one bothered to argue with him, which he appreciated. Let me have this.

The pub was packed tonight and he was already on edge, which was not a great combination. He ordered their drinks, then waited for Emmeline to sort them out. As he glanced around the pub, he saw Regulus sliding into the seat he’d just vacated. 

The bloke had changed into a more casual outfit between the warehouse and the pub. James wouldn’t have guessed Regulus owned jeans, or denim in any form. In a pair of tight black trousers, a fitted band tee, and a light jacket, he blended in with every other queer person in the building, including his brother. 

Before the order was finished, James texted Sirius. He may as well pick up a drink for Regulus too, to be polite.

James: What does he drink?

Sirius: Depends, but a g&t with lemon is a safe bet.

Another surprise, it was a fairly simple drink for the posh prince. James added it to his order, downed a shot of rum, then hauled the tray back to the table.

“You’re in my seat,” James said curtly, dropping the gin in front of him. 

Regulus stared up at him in disbelief for a full ten seconds before attempting to slide out of the booth. His jaw was tense, accenting the sharp angle of his cheek bones perfectly. Pretty bastard.

“No, stay,” Sirius argued, grabbing his brother’s wrist and sliding further into the booth. “You and I don’t take up much space, Reggie. Just leave James some room.”

Glancing between the two of them, Regulus shrugged and followed his brother down the bench. James sat on the end and pretended not to notice that his thigh pressed tight to Regulus’s. 

It’s fine, I’m fine. We never stay at one pub for long anyway.

Three rounds in, a pretty brunette sauntered over to the table and propped her hip against the edge. Her tight red dress wrapped around her body, flattering to her breasts and hips equally. “Come dance with me?” 

James leaned forward and flashed a toothy grin. “What makes you think I can dance?”

“Mmm, can’t say I care either way,” she replied, slipping her hand over his. “I just wanted an excuse to pull you away from your friends.”

“I’ll go too!” Sirius volunteered, jumping to his feet. “I need a dance break anyway.”

The girl pulled on James’s hand, and he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Yeah, all right. Go on then.”

She led him out to the center of the dance floor and sidled up close to him, moving to the beat while she stroked her hands over his chest and shoulders. With a cheeky grin, she guided his hands to her hips, rolling them sensually beneath his fingers. “You looked miserable, and I’m happy to distract you for a while.” 

James chuckled, pulling her closer and enjoying the soft press of her breasts against his chest. She eagerly rolled her hips into his, which amused him further. This one was trying way too hard. 

He let his hands drift down to her arse and squeezed, then slipped a thigh between hers. The girl released a lovely little moan as they moved, her bare thigh rubbing deliciously against his clothed cock. Even through his jeans, the pressure was brilliant.

“Come home with me, darling,” she said suddenly, kissing along his jaw. 

James twirled her away from him and then back into his arms. Pretty, curvy, and ready to go was exactly what he looked for in a one-off. A convenient pull tended to overrule his logical side rather quickly, but something about her felt…off.

“Get it, James!” Sirius yelled from somewhere behind him. When he glanced back, he spotted his best friend in the center of a dance circle, with three blokes vying for his attention. 

James laughed. “Having fun?”

“I will be,” Sirius taunted back. He grabbed the tallest of the three men by the hand and pulled him in close.

The girl huffed in annoyance, then leaned up on her tiptoes and ghosted her lips over his jaw. “I promise to make it worth your while. Come home with me.”

The sharp smell of alcohol and bile on her breath turned his stomach. He leaned back to really look at her face. She’d been ill at least once tonight and her eyes were glazed too. She was far more pissed than he thought. 

James shook his head. “You’re bladdered, love. Let me find you a taxi, yeah?”

“No! I want you to take me home,” she pouted, hands tugging on his shirt.

Sirius let out a panicked noise behind him, and James immediately turned back. The tall bloke he was grinding on had gripped his long hair tight in one hand and wrenched his head back. The shock and fear on Sirius’s face were enough to compel James forward.

“Let go!” Sirius protested, swatting at the bloke’s hand. 

“Oi! Hands off!” James abandoned the girl and strode through the dance circle. Sirius would always be his priority over a one-off.

The bloke ignored James, then grinned at Sirius as he leaned in to kiss him. Sirius tried to push away, but with his hair caught, he couldn’t move far. It took James two more strides to reach him. 

James didn’t hesitate. He clamped a hand on the bloke’s wrist and squeezed hard. Immediately, the prick let go and cursed loudly.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” James demanded, wrapping his arm around Sirius’s shoulders protectively. “That was out of line!”

Before the man could respond, Sirius inhaled shakily and stepped forward. He whipped his arm back and slapped the tall bloke across the face with enough force to create an echo in the pub. Without a word, Sirius swiveled away and stalked toward the bar. 

“What a fucking tease!” the bloke shouted, rubbing his cheek. “Should have known a cunt like that would waste my time!”

James’s jaw tensed and he rolled back his shoulders, fully ready to “tease” this bastard with a five fingered tap to the head. His hands clenched at his side as he stepped forward. If it was up to him to teach this bloke manners, so be it.

“No, no, no! Don’t hit him!” 

Regulus appeared in front of him and pressed his hands firmly against James’s chest, slowing his progress. Intense gray eyes searched James’s face, a remnant of the scowl he’d worn earlier still in place. “Sirius handled it, don’t make it an assault charge.”

“Out of my way,” James growled, continuing to push forward. 

“Don’t make me restrain you, Potter. The band needs good press, not a public row!” Regulus chastised, pushing hard against him. The determination on his face gave James pause.

Lily’s accusation washed over him like a cold bucket of water. Me and my ego are holding the others back.

James deflated and allowed Regulus to shove him away from the dance floor. The fact that it wasn’t just his own reputation on the line was the sobering effect he needed. Regulus was protecting his own arse as well as the band’s, but he was right.

“Fuck you’re fast!” Peter huffed, dropping his hands to his thighs and inhaling deeply. He lifted his flushed face and studied James. “You’re lucky Regulus was paying attention. No rows! We can’t risk the press hearing about it.”

“Exactly,” Regulus agreed haughtily. He gripped James's chin between two fingers and turned his face roughly toward him. “Calm. Down. Now.”

Calm was not an emotion that James was familiar with anymore. Frustrated, sure. Annoyed, definitely. Fury, more than he cared to admit. His emotions had been surface level for months and the slightest provocation set him off. Since the row with Fabian, and Lily hinting about an engagement with Mary, actually. James pushed those thoughts aside quickly.

“I am calm,” he huffed. 

Regulus studied him through narrowed eyes for a long, silent moment, then nodded and released his hold. He clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face Peter. “I need to check on my brother, can you handle him?”

“I don’t need to be handled,” James groused, leaning back against the wall.

“Then control yourself,” Regulus snapped, his glare discouraging further argument.

Peter waved Regulus away. “Yeah, mate. Go on.”

James watched Regulus walk away, feeling strangely relieved by the growing space between them. There was something about him that put James on edge and at ease at the same time. It was disconcerting.

“What happened?” Peter asked, wrapping a hand around James’s arm. “One minute both of you were dancing, the next you’re shouting and Sirius is slapping that bloke into next week.”

“That bastard grabbed Sirius’s hair and tried to force him into a snog,” James ground out, his fury slowly returning. “He told the prick to let him go and he didn’t, so I intervened.”

Peter’s grip tightened momentarily. “Yeah, that’s fair. Don’t let it rile you up again though, okay? Sirius settled the score, so let’s not push it further.” 

When James didn’t answer, Peter looked around curiously. “Too bad your brunette wandered off. She was cute.”

“Hopefully, her friends are taking her home. She was completely bladdered, so nothing was happening there anyway,” James said, pointing out the group of girls crowded by the door.

“Bad luck,” Peter said, releasing his arm. “Let’s get another drink, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Regulus had never run that fast in his entire life. The moment he saw James spin around and tense up, he’d bolted out of the booth and sprinted toward the dance floor. He hadn’t even considered who was watching him or what photos would be taken. His mind was solely focused on stopping James from starting a row. 

With so much at stake, the band could not take that risk, especially in public. There were far too many people around and everyone had a camera in their pocket. It wouldn’t take long for a video of James knocking about a random patron at the pub to circulate social media. He will regret it when he’s sober. I can’t let him ruin everything now.

When Regulus reached James, and realized why the man was so angry, he’d almost regretted intervening. Almost. The desire to kiss James senseless for defending his brother made him reluctant to release his hold on James’s chin. Until Regulus saw the furious resentment aimed at him. He needed to stop pretending that his crush went both ways.

Embarrassed, Regulus crossed the room hastily. “Sirius? Are you all right?” 

Sirius downed his martini much too quickly and ignored his pointed look. As far as Regulus was concerned, Sirius could shove his attitude right up his own arse. Not that he planned to offer that suggestion. It wasn’t helpful to alienate his brother when he was legitimately concerned. 

“Are you all right?” Regulus repeated. “That looked painful.”

“It was,” Sirius agreed, shoving the empty glass across the bar. “Still is, actually.”

“We always manage to find the arseholes, don’t we, Sirius?” Regulus propped an elbow on the bar, resting his chin on his hand. 

He knew Sirius appreciated a hands-off approach. His brother was overwhelmed, and Regulus understood his need for space. When someone hurt one of them physically, they both needed to regain autonomy, first and foremost.

“I’m convinced there’s a deity out there, laughing their arse off at me,” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms over his middle. “I practically invite these pricks to take advantage.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Regulus retorted, shaking his head. “You didn’t ask for any of it.” 

Sirius downed a shot and slammed his glass on the bar, then waved down the bartender to order another.

Regulus glanced past Sirius’s shoulder, following James’s path back to the table. “Even though he lost his temper, I’m glad James intervened when he did. I didn’t see what was happening until he overreacted.”

Leaning back against the bar, Sirius propped his elbows on the edge. “Oh? What were you so distracted by that you missed the violent altercation in the middle of the dance floor?” 

Regulus toyed with a beer mat left sitting on the bar and shrugged. “Just observing the crowd.”

“You weren’t glaring daggers at that bird grinding on James then? It was quite a performance, especially considering how intoxicated they both are.” Sirius was deflecting, but Regulus let him. He understood that this was easier than discussing the altercation itself. “She was moaning and carrying on like riding his thigh was pure ecstasy.” 

“Now you’re just being mean,” Regulus scoffed.

“I’m really not. She was definitely enjoying herself.”

“Good for her.”

“Jealous much, Reggie?” Sirius teased, leaning his head back to see Regulus better. “That scowl was visible from across the room. I’m surprised James didn’t notice.”

“He wasn’t looking at me, so of course he didn’t. Lupin did, but I couldn’t gauge his reaction to it.” Regulus frowned. “Does he fancy James too?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sirius said, shoving a hand through his hair. “All I can tell you about his preferences is that I am not one of them. He made that abundantly clear.” 

Annoyed, Sirius dug out a hair tie from his pocket and shoved his long hair into a bun. He was obviously still fussed about the row he’d had with Remus earlier. Regulus could hardly blame him. If he’d been accused of being a slag based on a joke, he’d have thrown a fit too. Or not, more likely I would just ignore it.

The woman who asked James to dance had caught Regulus entirely off-guard. It hadn’t even occurred to him that James wanted to dance, let alone that grinding on the dance floor was an option. An option for her, at least.

“All that woman did was walk up and ask him to dance. He agreed, just like that,” Regulus said, twisting the beer mat viciously. “Do you think he’d have said ‘yes’ if I asked?”

Sirius shrugged. “Don’t expect me to guess what James will or won’t do. I can rarely predict his next move. His brain is always running about ten steps ahead, but I swear it’s not on the same path as the rest of the world’s. Half of the time it’s pointed in the opposite direction.”

Eyeing the dance floor as if he was evaluating the remaining blokes, Sirius grinned. “Do you want to dance with me?”

“Not like that,” Regulus shot back. 

“Don’t be a cunt, come on,” Sirius taunted, prodding Regulus’s shoulder. “No reason to let the evening be a total loss, right?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but lifted up from the bar stool. “Fine, we can dance. I need to get out of my own head anyway.”

“That’s what I was thinking too,” Sirius agreed, following him onto the dance floor. 

Unwilling to stand in the center where everyone would stare, Regulus chose a corner with just a few people mindlessly bopping to the music. Thankfully, Sirius didn’t protest, but as the next song came on, he reached for Regulus’s hand. 

“We need to reacquaint ourselves with ‘the routine,’” Sirius suggested, wriggling his eyebrows. 

“Oh, come on,” Regulus whined, shaking his head. “You can’t actually expect me to remember that! It was years ago, and we were young and stupid.”

“You loved it and you know it. Let’s go, this song’s beat is perfect for it.” 

He tugged Regulus into the starting position facing him. Within five beats they were moving in a perfectly coordinated and unnecessarily overcomplicated dance that Sirius had choreographed in secondary. It took him weeks to teach it to Regulus and months for them to memorize it. Beyond being a tad out of date trend-wise, it was a lot of fun. Between the larger steps, there were a number of twists and shimmies just to keep them moving.

Regulus fell into sync rather quickly, despite his protest. It was ingrained into his muscle memory after Sirius insisted they practice it as often as possible. Mid-way through the song, he noticed the rest of the dance floor vacating slowly and the few who remained were watching the two of them. Refusing to acknowledge it, Regulus focused on the steps instead of the attention. 

Then, his gaze was drawn to a familiar blonde with a camera in front of her. Pandora smirked at him, then gave a little wave. He rolled his eyes and threw himself fully into the dance. I’m always performing when in public.

The song came to an end, and Sirius pulled him into a hug. Nostalgia hit him hard. This was the brother he’d missed. The one who spent ages coming up with a stupid dance just to spend time with him. The brother who would take the blame when Regulus broke a priceless vase. His Sirius was the one who kept him safe when their parents’ abuse spiraled. Until he left.

“I can’t believe you remembered it all!” Sirius cheered, squeezing him tight.

Regulus huffed. “Of course I do, it was important to you.”

Sirius’s eyes filled with tears and he blinked them away furiously.

“You’re not going to cry, are you?” Regulus said, pushing him away. “Not now. Stop it.”

“Piss off. I’m just glad you’re here, that’s all.”

Regulus sighed. “I’m glad too. It’s been a long time.”

“Let’s go back to the table and get another round,” Sirius suggested. 

Regulus nodded, then swiveled around. A crowd of people stood just off the dance floor and when he turned, several surged forward. They clamored for his attention, but Regulus abruptly stepped back and hid behind Sirius. No matter how popular he was, he still hated crowds. An unexpected mob of fans? Absolutely not.

“Oi! Go on, let him have one night without being swarmed, yeah?” Sirius chastised, waving them away. “Enjoy your drinks.”

The crowd fell back, but didn’t disperse. Sirius grabbed Regulus’s hand and dragged him straight through the crowd without hesitation, like a psychopath. When they reached the booth, Sirius quickly shoved Regulus in the middle and slid in after him. 

“There, now they have to leave you be,” Sirius said.

“Thanks.“

Pressed against James’s side again, Regulus focused on the recently refilled g&t in front of him. He toyed with the lemon idly, imagining the think-pieces that would be posted online the next day about his running away from his fans. Until the lemon squirted with far more velocity than he expected, and splattered James’s glasses. 

Regulus stared in horror from one to the other. How did that just happen? 

“Well, fuck me, I guess,” James said. He whipped off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. “First, you steal my seat. Then, you order me around. Now, you’re blinding me with citric acid.”

“I didn’t…that’s not.” Mortified, Regulus shut his mouth and looked away. 

He was unable to form the defense he needed when James was so close. His skin was actively leeching the warmth of James’s body and reveling in their closeness, while his nerves tingled at every press of James’s thigh against his own. It was beyond distracting. 

“Couldn’t wait to show off for your fans, huh?” James muttered under his breath. “What a prick.”

Regulus didn’t look up, trying to ignore the heat climbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t showing off.”

James shrugged, lifting his drink in a mock salute. “Whatever you say, Black.”

Hurt fluttered in his heart at the careless dismissal. After years of being reduced to “Black” at uni, the use of his last name stung a bit more than it would have otherwise. Regulus studied his drink, turning it around in his hands as he bit back a nasty retort that James definitely deserved. He wasn’t in the habit of exposing his weaknesses to those intent on using them against him.

“The dance was my idea,” Sirius corrected. He lifted his fifth or sixth martini —no one seemed to be keeping track— and smirked. “I choreographed it when we were kids and forced him to learn it. Just a bit of nostalgia, James. No need to be a cunt.”

Remus cleared his throat. “Well, I’m sure it will make for an entertaining video. .”

Peter aimed a surprised look at Remus, then huffed. “Which is a good thing! We need good publicity.”

“Exactly,” Sirius agreed, pointing at Peter. “You said you didn’t want the attention, James. So, don’t whine when the rest of us draw attention to ourselves. It’s necessary to be in the public eye if you want them to support the band.”

With a grunt, James downed the rest of his drink. Regulus couldn’t tell if he was still fussed about the bloke grabbing at Sirius, or if this attitude was actually because of the attention they’d drawn. Either way, the tone shift at the table made it abundantly clear that his presence wasn’t welcome after all.

All of his careful planning and close observations were a complete waste of time. No matter how much effort he put into crafting a likable public persona, the veneer washed away far too quickly. As soon as the men he fancied caught a glimpse of who he really was, an overeager, touch-starved fool clinging to cynicism for security, they pushed him away. I always try too hard to make them like me, and they never do.

“I think I’m done,” Regulus said, pushing his glass away. “It’s pretty clear that I’m interrupting your evening, and that was not my intent. I’ll find you tomorrow, Sirius.”

“I’m sorry, Reggie. I saw Pandora waiting near the front door.” Sirius slid out and pulled Regulus into a hug, patting his back. He whispered, “Give it time. He’s in a mood.”

“I don’t think that’s the problem, Sirius,” Regulus replied, shaking his head. He stepped away from his brother and strode quickly toward Pandora’s table. I won’t stay where I’m not wanted, and he definitely doesn’t want me.

Regulus made his way across the room, dodging cameras and small groups of people milling about. He was far too irritated to play nice with the fans. Was it really too much to ask to be left alone for one night? Existing in public didn’t give anyone the right to hound him.

He refused to think about the man who went out of his way to make his evening shit. James didn’t deserve to take up space in his brain. There was no excuse for him to channel his frustration from the row at Regulus when all he had done all evening was try to fit in with their group. Self-consciously, he tugged on the jacket Pandora had dug out of her car for him. She swore it looked good on him, but it was a little big and not very comfortable. 

Why did I even try? I’m not one of them, and they don’t want me around.

When this project was over, Regulus would be back in his flat and forgotten by all but Sirius. He hadn’t realized that tonight’s invitation was from his brother, and not the band as a whole. If anything, James seemed to resent his presence, as if Regulus was a simpering fan who crawled into his lap and begged for a selfie. James didn’t even treat him as an equal, or as a fellow performer. 

I am a professional and have an established fan base across a spectrum of genres and age ranges! Regulus winced, annoyed by his own thoughts. Perhaps he was being a prat, but only because Sirius said that James liked it. Normally, he buried the priggish side of himself around blokes he fancied. Neither worked on James.

Either Sirius lied to me, or I’m wasting my time. 

Regulus narrowly dodged a drunk woman reaching for him when Pandora and Evan appeared at his side. Immediately, relief blanketed his anxiety. Pandora hooked her arm through his and marched toward the door while Evan deflected onlookers as gently as possible. 

“What happened?” Pandora said, leaning close so only he could hear her. “I thought you were doing so well.”

“I don’t know. I guess I ruined their fun with all of the fans.” Regulus ducked his head as a pack of people crowded in front of the door.

Evan glanced back and shrugged. “Can you handle a few photos and handshakes, Reg? I reckon I can dig us out if they’re distracted.”

“Yes, fine,” he agreed tiredly. 

Pandora quickly produced a sharpie and a pen, then set about organizing the people in the immediate area into lines to allow the pub’s patrons to walk through unimpeded. It was one of her rules. Don’t ruin the fun for everyone else, which I failed miserably.

Regulus obliged his fans, as was drilled into him from a very young age. Prodigies were given media training as soon as they could introduce themselves and it never stopped. Ever.

“Regulus! Look here!” one woman called out, waving her phone in the air. Others shouted his name or their demands, pleading for his attention.

“One more photo!”

“Can you sign the back of my phone?”

“How about my shirt?” 

“I write songs too! Can you look at them?”

“Just a quick photo for my Mum.”

“Where did you and Sirius learn that dance?”

“Sign my left tit?” 

Pandora scoffed at that last request and redirected the woman so quickly that Regulus didn’t see where she went. He moved through the line of autograph requests that led straight out the door and smiled for one last selfie before Evan swept him away. 

“Dorcas sent a car,” Pandora said, nodding at the black town car waiting at the curb. “She said this counted as a business outing, so she could expense it. I’ll pick up the Fiat later.”

Evan pulled open the door and shooed Regulus and Pandora inside. “Go on, you need to decompress. I’ll sit up front with the driver. How are things, Mick?”

The driver grunted something unintelligible, but smiled when Evan slid in next to him. They were lost in talk of rugby scrums minutes later. It was a welcome change from the band’s bickering and the sheer lunacy of trying to carve out a small spot for himself among them. I never could fit in.

“So, was it Sirius or James this time?” Pandora asked, helping him pull off the jacket and handing him a comfy jumper.

“James made it very clear that he didn’t want me there. The others were less bothered, but Remus agreed with him,” Regulus said, shaking his head. “Peter seems all right.”

Pandora nodded. “He’s the only one with any sense. Peter’s a clever bloke and he’s quite funny too.”

“Why can’t I be attracted to him? Why is it always arseholes who think too highly of themselves?”

“Therapy would probably have answers to those questions,” Pandora replied.

Regulus waved her off. “Been there, done that, didn’t work.”

Evan leaned over the seat and grinned wickedly. “Did you see who took your place at the table, Reg?”

A fit redhead for James to snog probably.

“No. Who?”

“Bertram Aubrey. Remember Bertie? From secondary?” Evan asked, biting his lip as if holding back a punchline.

Regulus tried to place a face with the name, but came up blank. “Context?”

“Eh…tall, wore big glasses, non-binary anime nerd, chased after Barty in seventh…”

“Got it. Yes, we had Maths together a few times, I think. Where were we going with this?” Regulus checked.

Evan motioned circling back with his hands. “They go by Charlie now, and apparently, they hook up with your brother fairly regularly. In fact, they were rather cozy when we left.”

Pandora handed over her phone. “I found them in a deep dive on your brother. Tonight, I took a photo for the file. Isn’t that sweet? A full circle moment, nerd to sex pot.” 

The photo was exactly as Evan and Pandora described it, cozy and sweet. He still didn’t know why they thought he needed to know about Bertie/Charlie and his brother. If it was a casual hook-up, that was Sirius’s business, not his. If it was more than that, Sirius would tell him eventually.

Evan then handed over his mobile with a wry grin. “I have a photo as well. Don’t swipe or you may traumatize yourself.”

Unnerved by the warning, Regulus carefully lifted the screen. It was a screenshot of Charlie’s profile on a dating app…that linked to a sex work website. A twisted part of his mind recoiled at the idea, the part that held rigid memories of his parents’ conservative rhetoric lit up. All of the nasty judgements that his parents threw around casually ran through his mind in quick succession.

His father in particular loved to gush about sex workers. “ Whoring themselves out.” “Dirty.” “Trash.” “No respect for their bodies.”

Regulus viscerally pushed the thoughts away and handed Evan his mobile. “Good for them.”

“So, that’s not a problem for your image?” Evan asked, eyeing him curiously. 

“No.”

Evan and Pandora shared a loaded look, likely using the twin telepathy powers —that Regulus was convinced they possessed— to talk without speaking. It was annoying to be left out of a conversation that was clearly about him. 

“You know I left that shit behind,” Regulus said flatly. “Who am I to judge someone else’s morality? I’ve been sucked off by my fair share of strangers in pub bathrooms.”

Pandora smirked, while Evan choked on his laughter. He knew they thought he was a prude, but he didn’t have the energy to defend himself. It was exhausting to be rejected over and over again.

James groaned, thoroughly annoyed with himself. Since when did he mouth off to a perfectly polite bloke like that? Especially one that did absolutely nothing to deserve it, except be pretty and snarky in James’s vicinity. Lashing out was entirely inappropriate and out of character for him. Sirius was definitely going to call him on it. 

Why am I like this? What is it about Regulus? Is it about Regulus?

“Why is everyone so bitchy tonight?” Sirius asked. “Regulus was trying to get to know—”

“Yeah, well, maybe we need to remain professional,” James offered lamely, ruffling his hair. “I for one don’t need any more ‘friends.’”

“What the fuck? James, you’re being a prick. Regulus didn’t do anything wrong.” Peter folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “He’s actually really nice, and funny. What’s your problem?”

“James has a point though,” Remus interjected, lifting his chin. “Pub nights are for the band to let loose. It’s kind of hard to do that when you’re toting a celebrity around.”

James nodded, pathetically grateful for the support. “Exactly. We need boundaries. When we want to invite the public in and when we don’t. On a pub night after a shit day is not the time.”

Sirius reeled back. “He’s not just a public figure or a professional contact though, he’s my brother. If I want to spend time with him, I expect my friends to be respectful and polite. To make him feel welcome.”

“Which is fair,” Peter agreed, narrowing his eyes at Remus and James. “We’ve done the same for each other’s girlfriends or boyfriends in the past. No one was treated like shit unless they earned it.” 

Sirius gestured at Regulus’s retreating back. “Nothing he said or did warrants the way both of you are glaring at him.”

Remus turned away from Regulus’s progress out of the pub. He didn’t say anything further, but James could tell that Peter struck a nerve. Because they’re dead on. We are being pricks.

Sirius pulled out his mobile and tapped at the screen, while James peeked over his shoulder. He had a couple of texts from Marlene and three notifications from a dating app. An alert popped up, stating there were fifteen people in his vicinity on the app. Sitting in a queer pub, that wasn’t unusual. 

When Sirius tapped on it, Remus’s picture appeared on his screen. James stared at it, equally surprised that Remus was on the app as he was that the bloke was queer. He was particularly close-lipped about his personal life. Luckily, Sirius didn’t click on it, which was probably for the best. 

“Hey baby!” a voice called out. In seconds, a tall, dark-haired figure slid in next to Sirius. 

Sirius deflated with a sigh. “Hi, Charlie. I didn’t know you were out tonight.”

“As if I’m not out every Friday. Do you have plans? Other than this rather depressing group date?” Charlie slid into the bench next to Sirius, glanced around the booth, then arched an eyebrow. “James, what’s with the face, mate? You’re looking uncharacteristically annoyed.”

“Nothing,” James mumbled, tossing back another drink. Is it really that plain on my face? Fuck.

“He’s fussed about the fans,” Peter offered. He nodded toward the commotion at the door where Regulus was still trying to leave with Pandora at his side. A number of people were begging for photos and autographs. He appeared to be reluctantly accommodating them. 

“Ah yes, the elusive Regulus Black,” Charlie said, winking at Sirius. “I enjoyed that little dance the two of you performed. You looked damn good out there, Sirius. Really good.”

“Thank you. I actually don’t have plans tonight. Are you free?” Sirius asked, gaze flicking over Charlie’s chest. Their half-buttoned shirt offered an excellent view of their chest. 

“I am, as it turns out,” Charlie replied, slipping an arm around Sirius’s waist. “Though you know I’d make time for you even if I wasn’t.”

“Smooth as fuck, every time.” Peter snorted a laugh. “Go on then. You deserve a good time after that arsehole from earlier, Sirius.”

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “What arsehole? Is someone messing with you, baby?”

“Just an entitled prick,” Sirius dismissed, leaning his head on Charlie’s shoulder. “You know the type. The ones that think they can take whatever they want.”

“Ugh, yes. I am familiar,” Charlie grimaced. Their hand tightened around Sirius’s waist and they kissed the top of his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you tonight, baby. I’ve missed you.” 

James looked away, envious of Sirius for the abundance of “friends” who sought him out regularly. That wasn’t what he wanted, but the comfort Charlie offered would be nice once in a while. Would that be weird? Hiring someone to cuddle me for a while?

Remus cleared his throat and glanced pointedly at James. It took him a minute to sort out the unspoken request. Right, introductions.  

James gestured vaguely between Charlie and Remus. “Remus, this is Charlie Aubrey. Charlie, Remus Lupin. He’s our new bassist, and Charlie is a friend.”

“That’s an understatement,” Peter replied, rolling his eyes. “Charlie is more than a friend, and they are very important to all of us.”

“Nice to meet you,” Charlie said, offering their unoccupied hand to Remus. 

Remus shook it and nodded. “Same. I think I’ve seen you around.”

“I’m sure you have. That’s purposeful, I assure you.”

“Perks of the job,” Sirius teased, patting Charlie’s cheek.

“Mm-hmm,” Charlie agreed, leaning in to kiss Sirius’s forehead. “Also helpful that I make my own hours. I can take an evening off when my favorite is free.” 

Sirius smirked. “Flirt.”

James watched Remus process the interaction, curious how he would react to Charlie. Not everyone in the queer community accepted sex workers, or non-binary people for that matter. Charlie was a staple at this pub and a long-time member of Sirius’s circle of friends. He’d grown rather fond of Charlie himself over the years. Anyone who treated his best friend with such care was all right with him.

“Are you ready?” Charlie asked, smoothing back a loose lock of hair from Sirius’s bun. “Or would you like to dance?”

“Let’s go.” Sirius waved at the table vaguely as he followed Charlie out of the booth. “I’ll be in for the night, James.”

James nodded, then pointed at Charlie. “Stay the night, if you can. Don’t rush off at 2am again. It’s not safe.”

“See? That’s what I said!” Sirius exclaimed, linking his hand with Charlie’s. The smug look on his face made Charlie roll their eyes, but the grin they returned was relieved. 

Peter finished his drink and sighed. “I need to find myself a Charlie.”

Surprised, James turned to face him. “Since when are you into masc-presenting people?” 

“No, well…maybe. I mean a friends with benefits thing, like they have,” Peter corrected, gaze following the pair toward the door. “It seems nice.”

“I’m sure Charlie has friends,” James suggested.

“Yeah, I know,” Peter interrupted, shaking his head. “I respect what they do, but who has time for that?”

Remus leaned forward. “I don’t mean this to be rude, but is Charlie…”

“A sex worker? Yes,” James answered bluntly. “And a bloody good one too, according to Sirius. They make more in a weekend than most professional office types do in a fortnight. That’s not a problem, is it?”

“No, of course not. I just didn’t want to assume anything,” Remus assured him, shaking his head. 

Peter tapped his fingers on the table anxiously. “That’s not the relationship that Sirius has with them though. They actually are friends who sleep together occasionally.”

“I think Charlie would like more than that.” James took a long drink of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a bit too long. It was room temperature.

“Probably, but you know how Sirius is,” Peter agreed, shrugging lightly. “He takes relationships really bloody seriously. Given how his last one ended, I doubt he’d be up for sharing his partner. Even if it’s for work.”

“Fair point.” James pulled his mobile out of his pocket to check the time. It wasn’t all that late yet, but it was best if he avoided the flat for a while to give Sirius privacy. 

Peter hummed to himself as he looked out over the crowd. He seemed a bit distracted tonight, beyond the scuffle earlier. Following his line of sight, James spotted Violet. A curvy brunette with wide blue eyes and a sharp wit. The pair had a brief fling a few months back, but Peter wasn’t looking for a relationship at the time and she was.

“Have you talked to her recently?” James asked, smirking when Peter’s head jerked. 

Peter shrugged, clearly trying to pretend it didn’t matter. He refocused on his glass, which was now empty. “No.”

“Go talk to her, you twit,” James goaded, nudging his elbow. “She may be up for it, and you don’t know if you don’t ask.”

Remus glanced between them curiously, but didn’t say anything. He seemed content to observe for the most part, rather than join in on the conversation. It hadn’t escaped James’s notice that Remus was the only one who didn’t rush in to defend Sirius from that arsehole earlier. Although, when he’d returned to the table, Remus’s gaze was sharp and intense. 

Hard to read that Lupin. 

“Yeah, you’re right. If nothing else, it will be good to catch up,” Peter said finally, pushing out from the table. He wandered down to the bar and waved at her. Violet met him with a bright grin and waved back. 

“So, which one is yours?” Remus asked, lips twitching with amusement. 

“Meaning?”

“I presume you are someone’s ‘favorite’ as well?” Remus asked, gesturing at the crowd.

James shook his head. “No. I like one-offs on occasion, but there’s no one I’d like another go with.”

“Me either.” Remus dragged his finger around the rim of his glass as he watched Peter and Violet flirt at the bar. “I used to enjoy casual pulls, and preferred it even. Now I just can’t be bothered.”

“I prefer relationships, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for that right now. You know, after Lily,” James replied. “It’s probably not feasible with the band’s schedule anyway, especially if we actually go on a tour.”

“If it’s important to you, you’ll make the effort,” offered Remus. He huffed a laugh at the delighted look on Peter’s face when Violet kissed his cheek. “Good for him. That went well.”

James studied Remus for a moment. He was objectively mediocre, and not at all what Sirius normally went for, but there was a haggard beauty to him too. Remus had been through some shit, and so had Sirius. In theory, they should work.

“Have you tried those dating apps? Sirius uses them once in a while. He actually does all right with it,” James suggested, curious if Remus would admit to being on one.

“Some, but not recently,” Remus replied, pulling out his mobile. “I rarely open it in pubs anymore. It’s a bit intimidating to see all the faces and know that they could physically confront you for swiping left.” 

Remus tapped his screen, then showed James. “Over a dozen in the vicinity? Too much.”

James searched the screen and a slow grin slipped over his face as a very familiar photo caught his eye. “See? Sirius is there too.”

Remus pulled the mobile back and frowned at the screen. He chewed his bottom lip pensively, then locked the mobile and shoved it back in his pocket. “Waste of time.”

“What is? The apps?” James asked.

“Well, yes. Among other things.”

James frowned, either the alcohol was making his brain a bit fuzzy or Remus was acting strangely. He couldn’t analyze for shit right now though, so he just asked. “What’s that face for? Still fussed at Sirius about that row earlier?”

“What? No. No,” Remus insisted, his cheeks warming. He quickly rubbed a hand over his face and looked down. “It’s just…ridiculous. I’m brand new to the band and not willing to take that risk. After the last one, I mean…”

Now, wait just a bloody minute! He fancies Sirius! To his tipsy mind, everything made perfect sense.

“Ah, I see,” James replied smugly. He’d missed it entirely, though Remus seemed to hide it better when he was sober.

Remus startled. “You see what? There’s nothing to see.”

“He’s an attractive bloke, so I understand. It’s not like I never noticed,” James pointed out. “I considered it when we first met, but once we were friends, I was too invested. That’s the real reason that I don’t do situationships, I get attached too easily.”

“No, I don’t…I’m not…um…it’s…” Remus stuttered over his words, flushing a darker color. 

James goon-grinned at him. “Oh, it’s that bad is it?”

Swatting at James’s shoulder, Remus huffed in frustration. “Sod off. I’d rather shag you than him.”

“Now that would be a waste of your time,” James said, leaning back in the booth. 

“Why is that?” 

“According to Lily, I’m an ‘emotional troll’ and in my ‘arsehole phase.’ We’d butt heads constantly,” James answered honestly, “and I doubt you’d enjoy it as much as I would.”

Remus arched an eyebrow skeptically. “It’s just a phase?”

“A long one, apparently.” James reached across the table and swiped Sirius’s martini, which was still half-full. “I learned my lesson a while ago about being sweet and gentle. It’s a recipe for pain, and no one takes you seriously. They just walk all over you.” 

“Does that have anything to do with Lily?” 

James choked hard, spluttering as he pounded on his chest. He cleared his throat a half dozen times, trying not to lose the contents of his stomach in the process. When he’d managed to open his airway again, he glared at Remus. “Absolutely not. Nothing about my relationship with Lily was sweet and gentle.

Remus rolled his eyes. “Right. I’m meant to ignore the way you stare at her like she stole something from you. Or how tetchy you are when she’s mentioned.”

“That has nothing to do with Lily specifically,” James countered, jabbing his finger at Remus. “It’s because she wants to marry…Mary.” 

The words flew out of his mouth before he’d had time to process them. James blinked as the truth washed over him. He didn’t really want Lily back, but he was envious of her happy relationship and that she had a future to look forward to. James wanted what she had. 

Well, fuck. Now what?

“Oh? You like Mary then?” Remus checked.

“She’s stunning, but no,” James refuted, shaking his head. “Besides, she’s not up for blokes.”

He pushed his glasses onto his forehead and rested his face in his hands. As the realization sunk deeper still, his chest clenched hard. A relationship was always his preference, for sure. Marriage was a long-term goal, of course. Maybe kids, maybe not. Whoa. Where did that come from?

“Explain.”

James scoffed, “You’ll take the piss out of me for it.”

“Probably, but it might make you feel better to talk about it,” Remus replied. He budged James’s elbow encouragingly. “Go on.”

“I’ll admit, I am annoyed that she’s moved on so quickly, but it’s nothing to do with her or Mary in particular. It’s just, I thought it would be with me,” James admitted hesitantly. “That was always the plan. I figured I’d find a girl at uni, then marry her after and have a happily ever after figured out.”

“Hmm, you were an optimist at some point then,” Remus said, chuckling derisively. “I always assumed I’d die miserable and alone.”

James dropped his hands and turned sharply toward him. “What the fuck, Remus? Why?”

“Health-related shit. Epilepsy is tricky. I was in and out of hospitals.”

“Is it under control now?” Somewhere in the back of his mind, James realized he shouldn’t ask. That was personal, too personal. Unfortunately, his brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders at the moment and his mouth wouldn’t stop flapping.

“Depends on the day. My meds keep the seizures in check for the most part,” Remus said. He tilted his head to the side and pointed to a ragged scar on the back of his neck. “This was from a fall in primary school. I have several from a car accident when I tried to practice for the driving test too. Stress is a trigger.”

James jerked his head down, letting his glasses fall back on his nose. He leaned closer and studied Remus. “You have scars on your nose and jaw too, from the accident?”

“Mm-hmm,” Remus confirmed, rubbing at them self-consciously. “My mum says they give me ‘character,’ but I hate them.”

“I didn’t even notice,” James said with a shrug. “Pretty faded, really.”

Remus smiled and ducked his head. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s really not. I didn’t see them, Remus. Can’t say I’ve stared at your face long enough to spot them,” he admitted, sitting back against the booth. “Sirius probably has though.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Remus dismissed, shaking his head. 

James studied him for a long moment, before shrugging. “If you say so. I’m certainly not going to encourage my band mates to shag each other.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not an option.” 

His confidence surprised James. Remus practically tripped over his words at the idea of fancying Sirius, but at the suggestion that he and Sirius would shag, he rejected it out of hand far too quickly. Especially considering how flirty Sirius was from minute one. Strange conclusion.

“Out of sheer curiosity, why?” James asked, prepared to defend one of his best friends, if necessary. “Again, I’m not encouraging it, but I don’t want infighting either.”

Remus sighed, then pulled out his mobile again. He tapped the screen, then turned it to face James. “I doubt that someone like Sirius could handle my baggage, James. There’s…a lot.”

James took the phone from him and studied the picture. Remus was a bit younger in it, with a toddler on his hip. The boy was clutching a book to his chest and staring up at Remus with complete adoration. His head snapped up in surprise. “You have a kid?”

“Yeah, his name’s Teddy,” Remus answered with a sheepish grin. “I don’t see him much. The courts don't trust me with him alone because of the seizures. I had a bad one when he was around once. I hit my head and knocked myself out. It scared him, and me.” 

Remus accepted the mobile back and stared at the screen. “I miss him a lot. I video chat with him almost everyday. In the summer, he stays with my mum and I spend as much time with them as possible.”

“Just because of your seizures, you can’t see him?” James asked, shaking his head. “That’s awful, mate.”

“His mum agrees. She is really good about letting me talk to him. I get it though, the seizures can come out of nowhere and I’d never forgive myself if he was hurt because of me. If I had a partner, maybe it would be different.”

Remus’s wistful expression twisted James’s gut. Of all the things Remus could have revealed to him, epilepsy included, James hadn’t expected a kid. He’d never mentioned the boy in all of the conversations they’d had. Seizures kept him from his son. Fucking seizures.

“That’s part of why I don’t want to sing lead. It’s too much pressure,” Remus added.

James reached out and gripped his shoulder. “If you ever need a break or feel overwhelmed, I want you to tell me. It doesn’t have to go any further than that. I’ll make whatever excuse I need to.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that! No need to inconvenience anyone on my behalf,” Remus insisted, eyes wide.

“Hey, it’s not a problem,” James assured him. “We are thrilled to have you in the band, full stop. If any of us needed a break, we’d take it. Don’t push yourself too far, mate. I mean it.”

Remus’s shoulders sagged. “Right. Thanks.”

“I’m not going to hassle you about it. So long as you tell me when it’s a problem. I don’t want you falling out on stage and hurting yourself.”

“That’s never happened,” Remus replied, shaking his head. “I know the signs now. I can tell when it’s coming on and can usually find somewhere to lay down.”

“Good.”

“Can you tell the others? I really hate having to tell everyone, but I don’t want them to freak out if it happens,” Remus asked, suddenly focused on the table top. “Lily already knows, of course.”

“Are you sure? It’s your business, Remus.”

Remus shrugged. “I’d rather not have to explain it later.”

“All right, but I’m qualifying it with a disclaimer. I won’t let anyone treat you differently,” James said, patting Remus’s back. “You can tell them about Teddy when you’re ready.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Remus agreed. 

James shifted closer and mirrored his position on the table. “They won’t care about that, Remus. Peter and Sirius can be trusted, I swear it. I’ve known both of them for years. If anything, they will probably want to help.” 

“Help? How?” Remus asked, glancing back at him. 

“For one, Peter is a great listener. He’ll definitely want to know everything and may have decent advice too. Secondly, Sirius is really bloody good with kids. He has a cousin with a little boy that has to be kind of close in age to Teddy. I’ve never met him, but he takes the train out to see them every once in a while. Always comes home gushing about him,” James said. 

He tipped his head to the side and frowned. “Actually, I think his name is Teddy too. That’s a weird coincidence.”

Remus blinked very slowly. “What’s his cousin’s name?”

“Andy,” James answered promptly. “She’s quite a bit older than us though.”

Remus visibly relaxed. “Ah, that’s not them then. Teddy’s mum is younger than me, though they stay with her mum and dad.”

“My point is that they would be fine with it. We could even see if your ex will let him come stay overnight sometime. If all of us are helping, surely we can manage it.”

“Do you mean that? Really?” Remus asked, his voice hopeful.

“Of course I do! You would have to tell the others though,” James reminded him. “The seizure thing is for your safety, but Teddy is…special.”

Remus smiled. “Okay. Thanks, James.”

On Friday evening, like most evenings, Regulus sat curled up in the corner of the sofa that he’d long ago claimed as his spot in the sitting room with a mug of tea, watching a drama unfold. The difference tonight was that the television was turned off, and yet he was enthralled. He’d never seen this level of sexual tension on a program, and it had two queer leads. Premium entertainment.

“What’s your fucking problem?!” Barty snapped. He leapt up from a dining room chair and jabbed his finger at Evan. “All I said was that I was going out, so what’s with the attitude? You’ve had a stick up your arse all day. What do you care if I go out?”

Evan batted his hand away. “Fine! Go. I’m not stopping you.”

“But, you…then, why—”

“Would it kill you to invite me? What if I wanted to go?” Evan asked, exasperated. “You never even ask me anymore!”

Barty’s mouth dropped open and stayed there, until spit dribbled out. He recovered at once and wiped his chin with a look of warranted self-disgust. “You wanted a bloody invitation? Are you joking?”

Regulus muffled his laugh with the back of his hand. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed the crackling chemistry between his roommates, but his brother had it right. Evan and Barty were definitely dancing around something. Whether it was the sudden, unbearable tension stretched between them or more than that, Regulus hadn’t worked out yet. Oh, this is a fascinating twist.

“If you wanted to go, you should have said so!” Barty shouted, kicking a dining chair. “I’m not a mindreader, Rosie. If you want something from me, you have to tell me!”

That’s fair, actually. I didn’t even know Evan was interested in Barty. 

“Pfff! More like you’re too busy fondling yourself or sniffing after Regulus to notice!” 

Also true. They’re equally at fault then. 

Evan threw his shoulders back and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. It was a rather effective move, accenting his biceps as well as his chest. Regulus tilted his head to study Evan intently. He’d admired his friend’s physique many times, but had never fully appreciated the definition of his arms until now. 

“Oh sod off, Rosie. If you want to go with me, just say so. We’ll go right fucking now,” Barty snapped, flailing his hand toward the front door. “I’ll drive you there myself.”

“On your deathtrap of a bike?” Evan snarked.

Barty’s neck flushed, but he didn’t argue for once. He appeared gobsmacked in the face of Evan’s rare show of anger. “Yeah, well, it does the job. Hasn’t killed anyone yet.”

Regulus hugged his knees to his chest and pulled the knit blanket off the back of the sofa. Despite the entertaining telenovela that his life turned out to be, it wasn’t enough to distract him from the cold. He never stayed warm in the winter, here or back at home. Especially in a stately, turn of the century building like this, Mid-January’s creeping cold was impossible to keep out.

“I’d rather not be that shitcycle’s first victim,” Evan spit out, still furious. “Even if you were a competent driver, we’d freeze to death on that thing.”

My sentiments exactly, Regulus mused. 

“You’d rather take the tube?” Barty asked. Desperation clung to him like dew on grass, he was visibly struggling to keep it together now.

“Obviously not.” Evan rolled his eyes hard, which seemed to break Barty’s tenuous grasp on his emotional control.  

“You’re too good for public transport? How’d you expect to get there then, princess?” Barty demanded, throwing out his arm and pointing at Regulus. “Are you gonna call a chauffeured car like this twat?”

“Why not? That makes more sense than freezing my bollocks off,” Evan retorted, stepping forward. His folded arms bumped against Barty’s chest in challenge. “And leave Reg out of this. He’s our friend, not a toy for you to play with when you’re bored.”

Barty’s eyes blew wide and he shoved Evan away. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re an entitled, selfish prick, that’s what it means! How many times does he have to tell you to fuck off before you get the message? Do you think I enjoy watching you slobber all over him because he’s too polite to gut you?” Evan’s accusations hit Barty like daggers. He stumbled back until he hit the wall, mouth dropped open in horror and awe.

Oh shit. Evan went straight for the jugular already?

As the two continued to bicker with each other, Regulus pulled out his mobile and texted his brother. He hated admitting when he was wrong, but Sirius swore he saw this coming years ago. It seemed only fair to let him know they’d finally cracked. Sirius responded with two lines of laughing emojis, a dueling swordsman, and an aubergine. Which was either utter nonsense, or a sexual innuendo that Regulus didn’t understand.

The argument hadn’t actually started when Barty said he was going out, of course. It was gradual, growing over the course of the afternoon and evening. A slow burn filled with delicious tension. Barty hadn’t even noticed that Evan was becoming aggravated with him. Poor sod is entirely clueless. 

No, it was Barty’s creepy leering when Evan walked in from practice that really set him off. Evan had pulled off his coat and hat, exposing a rugby jersey that was soaked in sweat and plastered to his body after a long, and clearly arduous, practice. He’d clocked Barty’s leering with a startled pause, then mumbled about the showers at the field being shit and headed into his room.

Regulus had spared him a quick glance, then returned to his novel. Barty, on the other hand, had tossed out a casually thirsty quip offering to “give him a hand” in the loo. Evan’s face had contorted with shock before he called Barty a “malicious slag,” and slammed the door in his face. When Evan stepped out twenty minutes later, Barty was draped over Regulus’s shoulders and begging for a snog. Immediately, Evan started baiting Barty with jabs that were obviously intended to start a row.

Got what he wanted, I reckon.

“Reg, tell him!” Barty insisted, stomping toward the sofa with a thunderous expression. “You and I did shag last year, and it’s a bloody compliment for me to drool over you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Regulus huddled deeper into the sofa cushions, annoyed at being put on the spot. This sudden shift was ruining his immersion in the drama. “It was one pissed quickie that I’d rather forget happened.”

Evan’s obnoxious “Ha!” was so loud and triumphant that it silenced Barty for once. “I told you! You’re creeping him out with the constant staring, and making a fool of yourself hoping for more. He doesn’t fancy you, Barty. He fancies the fit motherfucker from his brother’s band, and I don’t blame him!”

“You do know that bloke then!” Barty accused, pointing at Regulus. 

Oh merde, don’t bring James into this. Regulus ducked under the blanket and covered his ears. The last person he wanted to be reminded of right now was James. His attempts to play nice and impress the arsehole had blown up in his face rather spectacularly, and Sirius’s advice hadn’t helped.

What started as physical attraction became a crush rather quickly, but now it had snowballed into a full blown infatuation.The way James had charged in at the pub to rescue his brother played on repeat in his head every night. Regulus wanted to be rescued, or at least, worth rescuing in James’s eyes. He wanted to be the main character in his own story, but more than anything he was curious what made Sirius worth the effort, and not him. Every conversation they’d had, brief and antagonistic as they may be, ran on a constant loop in his mind as he tried to figure out exactly where he went wrong.

Unfortunately, Regulus was hopelessly intrigued by the man, and more determined than ever to figure him out. Why did James run off when his ex confronted him? What do I have to do to earn James’s trust? How do I win him over?

After that horrible pub night and a week of awkward practice sessions, Regulus became more and more convinced that James wasn’t interested. A devastating revelation that he’d spent the rest of that week trying to accept, but couldn’t. James was already under his skin, and the prickling awareness of him was impossible to ignore. Worse still, Regulus was now contractually obligated to spend the next few weeks around James. I’m a glutton for punishment.

Barty wrenched off the blanket with a scowl. “Don’t hide from me. You lied! Why does that bloke matter, and I don’t?”

“I didn’t lie, I didn’t know him then!” Regulus snapped defensively. “I met him last week. My brother sent me a video of his band, and that’s when I saw him. Okay?”

“Is that why you went to that pub? To stare at him?” Barty’s glare had more than a little hurt behind it, but Regulus refused to let it soften him. This wasn’t about him and James, Barty was deflecting.

“You and Evan can either fight or fuck it out, I truly don’t care which, but don’t use me as a shield because you can’t manage your own emotions.” Regulus snatched up his mobile and stomped across the flat to his room, flinging the door closed behind him. He locked it with a satisfying click.  

Barty grumbled on the other side, jiggling the handle before slapping the door in frustration. He marched away and picked up the argument where he’d left off. Eventually, Evan conceded, and the flat went quiet. 

Relieved, Regulus reached for his leather bound journal and flipped to an empty page. He needed to work on songs for Sirius’s band, but the idea of writing for them was far less appealing now than it had been at the start of the week. Although the urge to stuff his words into James’s mouth was still very present, fortunately. There was catharsis in knowing he could guide these songs 

Flopping onto his belly, he unhooked his pen from the loop and tapped it against his chin. Regulus had a number of prompts that he used when writer’s block hit hard, so he mentally flicked through them. 

I know you don’t believe me, but…

This is the truth, and I can prove it…

Here’s where it went wrong, and another thing…

Nothing came to him. Frustrated, he switched tactics and reached for his guitar. Occasionally, he started with a melody and sorted out the lyrics later. He strummed each of the most common major chords on his guitar, considering each one in turn. G major? No, not that one. C major? Yes. D major? Maybe. 

Internally, he chastised himself for trying to fight his muse. The fact was, James had invaded his mind and didn’t appear to be leaving anytime soon. He may as well embrace it for now.

“What would I want James to say to me?” Regulus said to himself, chewing the inside of his cheek. “‘Come to me?’ Possibly. ‘I’m yours.’ Definitely. ‘I crave you…’” He shivered at the image that last phrase created, and quickly leaned over to scribble it down in the journal. From there, new phrases tumbled over each other in quick succession. 

I crave you. I want to tame you. Make you mine. I have what you want. It was a start, at least. 

“What would I do to get my hands on him if I had magical powers,” he said, tipping his head to the side. This reframing often helped him push past the obsessive realistic block, and his imagination rarely failed him. 

Regulus let his mind wander to fantasy after fantasy, noting down ideas. “I could hypnotize him into fancying me, or use a love potion? If I was a wizard, I’d summon him into my bed and…oh, wait. I like that.”

For the next hour, he toyed around with metaphors, but the core phrases he needed to link it all together remained elusive. Rock, especially alt-rock, used a lot of repeated phrases to link together the chorus and the verses. When his brain started offering absurd nonsense, he called it a night and tossed the notebook on his nightstand. 

Perhaps it will come to me in the morning.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

The strum of a guitar lulled him into a trance, each eerie chord vibrating into his skin. Rough, calloused fingertips caught on the strings and the hesitation sent shivers up his spine. Regulus knew those hands by sight, but to know them by touch alone would be pure bliss.

As if reading his mind, the same hand stroked over his bare thigh up from his knee toward his hip. Regulus leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed as pleasure sparked and sizzled with every gentle squeeze of exposed flesh. Even splayed out on his bed with James perched on the edge, guitar propped in his lap, Regulus felt strangely at ease.

“Call my name and it’s yours. I’m yours, Regulus. All night long,” James said, his voice low and rumbling. His hand slid higher, fingertips skimming under the hem of Regulus’s underwear. 

Regulus clasped both hands around James’s bicep and arched into the touch teasing him without mercy. His mind whirled and his vision blurred. He desperately wanted to kiss the man, but he couldn’t see his face. “I want…you. Please, James?”

“You’ll get yours, don’t worry.” James leaned closer and nibbled at his ear lobe, his breath hot against Regulus’s neck. “Then, I’ll get mine.”

A discordant twang filled the room as James abandoned his guitar to crawl over Regulus. Heat burned deep into his core, blossoming out from the solid weight straddling his hips. The first roll of strong hips pressed James’s bulging trousers against Regulus’s groin, and a pitiful whine burst free against his will.

“Don’t bury your voice, my love. I know what you want,” James crooned against his throat. “You make me feel powerful, you know? As if I could do anything, and you’d let me. Would you stop me if I choked you?” 

Regulus shook his head, unable to form words, let alone speak. He tipped his head back and offered himself readily. Whatever James wanted, he could have. 

James’s knuckles brushed Regulus’s chin before his large hand settled around his neck. He squeezed the sides, and Regulus gasped. Between the delicious friction of their frantically rutting hips and the light-headed feeling of near suffocation, Regulus was on the verge of cumming in his pants. 

“See what you do to me? I can’t help it, I crave you.” A deep growl vibrated against his chest as James shifted lower, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing down his chest. “Gonna make you mine and keep you forever.”

Regulus trembled beneath his fingers, silently pleading for more, but James took his sweet time exploring his body. Frustrated, Regulus grabbed both sides of his own shirt and ripped it open the last few inches, sending buttons sailing into the air. James released his neck to reach back with one hand and grabbed hold of his t-shirt and wrench it over his head.

He chuckled, then nipped at Regulus’s chest playfully. “Impatient much?” 

Golden brown skin spread out in every direction, filling his vision. Regulus lifted both hands to touch the broad shoulders and well defined chest from the photos. Everything he dreamt of was mere inches away. Glorious, beautiful James…

Regulus sat bolt upright in his bed overheated, panting, and hard. He stuck his hand out automatically and swatted at the nightstand, searching for his mobile. When he finally laid a hand on it, the screen lit up. “Three? It’s the middle of the night?!”

Then, the noise that must have interrupted his brilliant dream sounded again. It was a sharp whine and low moan combination that immediately made him nauseous. Chances were good it was only going to get worse. Especially since Barty had pulled a noisy lay tonight. Grand. 

Regulus grabbed his noise-canceling headphones and promptly turned them on, blessed silence replacing the dull thuds of a headboard hitting the wall. The predominant downside to his bedroom being in the middle of Evan and Barty’s was that he could hear their activities with far too much clarity. He was assigned this room when they moved in because Evan swore he couldn’t tolerate sharing a wall with Barty, but he suspected his occasional night terrors were the real reason.

No way I can go back to sleep now.

With a defeated sigh, Regulus picked up his journal and begrudgingly flipped on the lamp beside his bed. If he was awake, he may as well finish the first draft of the bloody song. It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the lighting, but when he did, he was delighted to find that the lyrics flowed easily now. Regulus propped himself up on an elbow and wrote every word he could remember from the dream before it disappeared.

“Call my name…I want to tame you? Call my name, I’m yours to tame!” he whispered excitedly, hurriedly writing it down. The best lyrics rolled off the tongue easily. “I crave you…I crave your taste. I crave your taste all night long!”

He preferred work-shopping ideas directly in his journal rather than maintaining a stream-lined, clean lyrical book like some of his counterparts. When he worked on a song, Regulus wanted to see the cogs and the springs, the bits and pieces that led him to the final lines. All of the intricate mechanisms that worked together to create a functional piece were equally important in his eyes.

For the first time in months, his manic creative drive kicked in. Regulus flipped back and forth between the pages adding ideas for each instrument. When a melody hit him, he had to try it now. Cautiously, he lifted one side of his headphones and listened. Oh good, they’re done.

He rolled out of bed, pulled off his headphones, and picked up his guitar. The moment his fingers strummed gently over the strings, a bone-deep sense of calm settled into his chest. Regulus closed his eyes and let his mind drift through the melody as he whispered along with what he had so far. 

“In the middle of the night, 

in the middle of the night, 

just call my name, I’m yours to tame. 

In the middle of the night, I’m wide awake, 

I crave your taste all night long.”

It was too soft for a rock band, but the seductive lyrics suited James perfectly. Regulus scrambled for his journal and wrote all of his thoughts down: I’ll increase the tempo and have Peter play around with background synths. Remus carries the foundational layer while James hits the melody hard, but I’ll have Sirius improvise a transition between the verses and chorus. 

He noted a number of metaphors for orgasms in the margin, trying to decide which flowed with the chorus best. The imagery of waves of desire crashing through him wasn’t helping his hard-on, but certainly captured the flush of passion he woke up in. Sitting back, Regulus traced the crisp edges of the stars on his guitar idly. He could hear the song in his head, but only in his own voice.

“I need to hear him singing it,” he whispered to himself. 

The memory of James’s voice when he sang “Slide” made him shiver violently. Regulus desperately wanted to watch James chew the bloody microphone while he sang this song and growl through each verse. He shifted positions, acutely aware of the heat settling in his belly. Regulus gingerly put away his guitar and journal, then eased back onto his bed.  If I ignore it, it will go away. 

Except, it didn’t. 

He inhaled deeply and tried to focus on something else, anything except the pressure of his dick against his pajama pants. Regulus stared at the glow-in-the-dark planets and constellations stuck on his ceiling. They were the plastic ones he’d desperately wanted when he was younger, and Barty insisted he needed them when they moved in. Picking out Leo, Orion, and Ursa Major quickly, he then recited all nine planets —because Pluto is still a fucking planet— and the horoscopes. 

Nothing worked.

With a resigned huff, Regulus dug a bottle of lube out of his drawer, coated his hand, and stuffed it down his pajama pants. He hated wanking when his roommates were home. It was so hard to stay focused and quiet when he was overwhelmed. Plus, if they heard him, they would definitely take the piss out of him tomorrow. And if I don’t, I’ll be frustrated as fuck around James instead.

Resigned, he stroked himself slowly from base to tip and let out a measured, shaky breath. Perhaps he could do this if he psyched himself up a bit. Regulus relaxed his shoulders and allowed himself to be swept away by the sensations and the images from his dream.

Honestly, it would have been harder to fight it than give in. He saw James’s big brown eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses every time he closed his eyes. The deeper he fell into the fantasy, the more real it felt. Regulus could almost taste James’s lips on his own and feel his hands on his skin. It was even more decadent this time as he directed dream James to fulfill his whims. My imagination may be better than reality.

Then his pleasure sparked out of nowhere, startling him with its intensity. Regulus bit down on his fist and rutted frantically into the circle of his fingers. Heat scorched through his body and his back arched sharply. Out of desperation alone, Regulus smothered himself with his pillow to muffle the shout as he came. He worked his dick through it until the mere brush of his fingers on the crown bordered on too much.

That was pathetically fast. If James had seen that, I’d drown myself in shame.

Sunlight filtered through the sliver of an opening in his curtains and shone directly in Sirius’s eyes. He groaned at the intrusion, then cursed at himself when the headache hit. I swear, I didn’t even drink that much last night. Why does my head hurt?

With a huff, he rolled toward the wall seeking a cool surface to rest his forehead against. When he met the warmth of another body instead, Sirius blinked in surprise. A familiar hum vibrated against his neck as Charlie nuzzled closer.

Charlie. Oh thank fuck, it’s just Charlie.

Relieved, Sirius hugged them closer as a memory of the previous night sifted through his brain. He vaguely remembered dancing with his brother, some sort of altercation with a random man on the dance floor, and James losing his shit. It was all rather fuzzy, but he did remember Charlie hugging him in their usual booth at the pub. 

Sirius buried his face in Charlie’s hair, letting the memory fade away. It was fine. He was fine. 

“Are you awake, baby?” whispered Charlie sleepily, smoothing a hand over Sirius’s chest. “You were a little restless last night.”

“Sort of,” he answered, covering their hand with his own. “Surprised you stayed all night.”

“I didn’t have a choice. James ordered me to stay, remember?” Charlie said, rolling his eyes. 

“That’s right. He’s a complete mum sometimes.”

“Mm-hmm,” Charlie agreed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “It was nice though. I rarely sleep well with other people in bed, but last night was fine.”

“You trust me,” Sirius said with a smile. “I’m the same way.”

Charlie hummed against his temple. “Does that mean you trust me too?”

“Of course I do.”

“But you don’t want to keep me? We could be good for each other, Sirius.” Charlie’s voice was soft, and a little sad. 

“We’ve talked about this,” Sirius sighed, pushing himself upright. “It wouldn’t be fair to either of us to make more of this than there is. I’m entirely too needy, and I own that. I would want all of your attention, all of the time. You’re polyamorous and have an intimate job. You’d get sick of me or we’d drive each other mad.”

“I could make a change,” they suggested, shrugging lightly. 

“I’m not asking you to do that. Besides, your career is more stable than mine at the moment. Not to mention, it would be pretty fucking hypocritical if I did.” Sirius gestured at the drum kit packed in the corner. “If this band thing takes off, I won’t even be around much. Wouldn’t that be worse?”

“Can’t say that sounds terribly enticing.”

“Exactly,” Sirius replied, stretching his arms over his head. He grabbed the headboard and rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the ache that had settled there too. “You would get bored and I’d worry about you constantly. It’s a recipe for disaster.”

Charlie trailed their fingers up Sirius’s side. “Probably right, but I’m still hoping you change your mind someday.”

He shifted away, batting at Charlie’s hand. “Stop. That tickles.”

“So sensitive, baby.” With a soft chuckle, Charlie rolled onto their back and watched him with interest. 

“And you’re a fucking tease,” Sirius retorted, glaring over his shoulder. “I keep forgetting how much you love to edge me.” 

“Sorry, not sorry,” Charlie replied, shrugging lightly. They were entirely unrepentant, the cheeky git. “You’re entirely too sexy when you're desperate to cum. Don’t fault me for wanting to stretch it out and enjoy the moment a little.”

Sirius arched a skeptical eyebrow. “I think you just like hearing me beg.”

“That too.”

“Sadist.”

Charlie snort-laughed, pulling themself up to lean against the wall. “I am not a sadist, you’re just a melodramatic twat.”

Gasping loudly, Sirius clasped a hand to his chest. “How dare you! I am not!”

“Oi! Quit flirting and get out here,” James called through the door, knocking in a familiar pattern. Shave and a haircut–two bits. “I made breakfast.”

Sirius gestured at the door with a goon-grin. “See? He’s such a mum.”

“A grumpy mum, sure, but fit as fuck too,” Charlie teased, prodding Sirius’s hip. “Ever given him a go? I would, in a fucking heartbeat.”

“James? No!” Sirius shuddered at the thought. Even though his best friend was conventionally attractive, he could not stomach the thought of James in a sexual way. It was too weird. They were practically family, as was Peter.

Charlie scoffed, “Why not? His arse is begging to be grabbed. Hell, I’d break my ‘no bottoming’ rule for him.”

“He’s pretty much my brother.” Sirius made an exaggerated gagging sound. “Well, my other brother.”

“Speaking of your brother, he is…”

Sirius glared. “Do not finish that sentence.”

“I swear, Sirius. If you let this food get cold, I will be pissed!” James threatened, hitting the door with his fist. “Give Charlie a rest, would you?”

“Oh piss off, I was faking it. I don’t actually choke on cock!” Sirius protested.

James let out a disgruntled huff. “Unnecessary details, thank you very much.”

Charlie climbed out of bed and shoved Sirius back on the pillows with a smirk. “Come on, baby. Admit it. He’s fit and he cooks? You’ve thought about it.”

“I have not! I’m not that desperate for a lay,” Sirius retorted. He jumped up and dug through his bureau for a pair of pajama pants. “I can’t see James that way. He’s been through too much shit with me and Peter. Besides, my family has enough incest in its history without me adding to it, just the idea creeps me out.”

“Your loss. I’ll enjoy the view for you,” Charlie tossed over their shoulder as they pulled open the door and strode out into the sitting room. “Good morning, James! You smell delicious, darling.”

Sirius followed them, rolling his eyes. Charlie wasn’t the first person to comment on his best friend and wouldn’t be the last. If they only knew how annoying James could be, or how insanely moody he’d become in the past few months. His ability to eat all the carbs and dairy that he could scarf down without destroying his digestive system was a good enough reason to hate him. 

Spread out on the table was a number of cut fruits, eggs, and whole-grain waffles, unsurprised by the massive amount of food. James was always famished after a bender, but Sirius could not fathom wanting to eat so much after soaking his stomach in alcohol. He was lucky if he could get toast to stay down.

“Morning, Charlie. Help yourself,” James replied, gesturing at the table. Turning toward Sirius, he pointed the spatula at him. “You too. Eat more than toast.”

Flipping him off, Sirius grabbed a waffle and popped it in his mouth. Eggs were fine, but take-out sushi was life-saving nourishment, and he didn’t particularly care that James didn’t agree. He headed for the sitting room, searching for his mobile. Collecting the clothes he’d discarded the moment he and Charlie walked through the door, Sirius checked his pockets. His mobile was nearly dead. 

He chewed one bite before wedging the waffle back in his mouth again to free his hands. Sirius tossed his clothes over his shoulder and walked back to his room. Scrolling through the list of notifications, he nearly dropped the phone entirely. 

Remus looked at his profile on that dating app.

Sirius blindly tossed his clothes at the hamper and plopped on his bed. Clicking the notification automatically opened Remus’s profile. It was probably a mistake, but he couldn’t help himself. Remus looked first, so he felt justified.

Unfortunately, his profile wasn’t anything special. Remus hadn’t shared terribly much, to no one’s surprise. He had one photo and it had shit lighting. The information was minimal. 

Height: 6’ 2” Barefoot maybe, Sirius mused.
Eyes: Green
Hair: Brown Where? What brown?
Sexuality: Bi That answers the queer question.
Favorite book: Dead Poet’s Society
Favorite movie: Dead Poet’s Society

Seriously? The Dead Poet’s Society. Does he have to be so fucking predictable?

Scrolling further down, Sirius paused at the prompts. The first one asked “biggest pet peeve” and Remus had answered, “People who talk about themselves too much.” 

Sirius chewed his bottom lip and wondered if he did that. Probably. 

The next prompt was “the most surprising thing about me” and he’d answered, “I’m not actually suicidal, this is just how my face looks.” 

Sirius snort-laughed, then felt guilty for it. What a twat.

His thumb hovered over the “like” button. Normally, he wouldn’t hesitate if the bloke made him laugh with the prompts. This was Remus though, and Sirius wasn’t sure how he’d react. He sighed and flicked the profile closed. No point in making things worse. 

“Sirius, I will force this fruit down your throat if you don’t walk your arse back in here and eat it yourself,” James threatened, his voice carrying down the hall. 

“Kinky!” Charlie cackled. “Don’t do it, baby! I want to see him try.”

“Sod off, Charlie,” Sirius retorted, stuffing the last bit of waffle in his mouth. He stood up and wandered back into the kitchen, accepting the bowl of fruit James held out to him begrudgingly. Settling in next to Charlie at the kitchen table, he popped a few grapes in his mouth. 

James smirked at Charlie. “You should come over when he’s ill. I have to practically sit on him to coerce him to take medicine.”

“You know what? I believe that,” Charlie said, nodding. They took a big bite of eggs and hummed approvingly. “Stubborn git, isn’t he?” 

“Glad someone appreciates my cooking,” James huffed, piling the leftovers onto his plate. “This one only eats take away. Granted, it's a fairly healthy take away, but he hates fruit. What kind of person hates fruit?”

Sirius winced as he bit into an apple. “The kind of person that prefers vegetables.”

Charlie released an amused breath. “Can’t relate. I love sweets, but a banana really hits the spot some days. ”

“Right?” James agreed, dropping into the chair across from them with a thud . “Carbs and protein, that’s all I need.”

“Same,” Charlie said, winking at Sirius. 

Sirius nearly choked on his apple and ended up swallowing the bite whole. Clearing his throat, he swatted at Charlie’s leg. “Stop that. I’m trying to eat.”

“And I’m just agreeing with your fit roommate,” Charlie replied casually. He sighed, then reached over to pat James’s arm. “You really are the whole package, darling.”

James shook his head before shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. He used to love compliments, reveled in them even. Sirius could sugar him up into agreeing to just about anything, which probably explained why they were constantly in trouble in uni. Lately, his arrogance felt forced, like he’d lost some of his confidence. Not all of it though. He channeled a variation of it perfectly on stage. 

Sirius looked around, noting Peter’s open door. “No Pete?”

“He didn’t come back from the pub.” James wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Met up with Violet. They looked rather cozy before I left.”

“Bravo, Peter.”

“Well, I need to head home,” Charlie said, standing up to carry their plate to the sink. On the way back, they ruffled Sirius’s hair and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you around, baby. Call me the next time you’re free, all right?”

“I will. Bye,” Sirius called after them. 

James stood up to follow them to the door. Ever the dutiful host, just like his mother. The thought of Effie made him smile. She was more of a mother to him than his own had ever been when she was alive. Sirius pulled out his mobile and sent her a text, grateful that he could. 

“Thanks for breakfast,” Charlie said. Sirius heard them kiss James’s cheek before they left. Always such a flirt! 

“Anytime, Charlie. It’s always nice to see you.” When James returned, he chucked Sirius’s chin as he walked by. “That was rude. You could have walked them to the door, at least.”

“Charlie’s been here often enough to lose guest status, James,” Sirius replied, grinning at the response from Effie. She always used too many emojis.

Sirius: Morning, Mum! 😘

Effie: Good morning, sweetheart! ❤️ you to the🌜and ✨ 🌈💕😘

James hummed a note of disapproval, but dropped it. He gathered up the plates, then flicked the side of Sirius’s bowl. “Keep going.”

“Fine,” Sirius huffed, popping another apple slice in his mouth. 

“Who are you texting this early?”

“Your mum.”

“Hilarious.”

Sirius glanced up and grinned. “No, really. I’m texting Effie.”

James pointed at him. “Tell her I said ‘hi’ and that I’ll call her later tonight.”

“Done and done,” Sirius answered, tapping the screen. Immediately, she responded, sparking a bark of laughter from his chest. “Oh, mum. She wants to know if you have a girlfriend yet.”

“For fuck’s sake,” James huffed, turning on the water. “I’m trying!”

“No, you’re definitely not,” Sirius argued, tapping at his screen. “You rarely pull and are ‘too busy’ to date. How is that ‘trying for a girlfriend,’ exactly?”

Slamming a pan into the sink, James glared at him. “Don’t start this again. I am not in the mood.”

“I see that,” Sirius replied, eyeing the pan in his hand warily. The abrupt mood shift was becoming a near daily occurrence, but it still caught him off-guard. “Mind if I ask who pissed on your waffle this morning?”

James ignored him, but muttered under his breath about “pretty blokes ruining my life.” And I’m the dramatic one? Sirius mused.

His phone dinged with a text notification again. This time, it was his brother. Reggie wanted to meet up for coffee.

Sirius walked his bowl to the sink, so he didn’t have to hear it later for being a slob, and hurried toward his room. He figured if he took a quick shower, he could beat Reggie to the cafè and pay for his drink. Ever since Regulus mentioned his financial situation, his mind couldn’t leave it alone. It was good that he had roommates, but Sirius still worried. It’s not right. They stole his inheritance and his earned income.

“Where are you rushing off to?” James demanded, grabbing the bowl.

“The cafè with Reggie,” Sirius tossed over his shoulder. He collected clean clothes from the dryer and sprinted to the loo. “He wants my opinion on a song. I’ll bring you a cold-brew after, if you want?”

James’s face shifted through a number of emotions before settling on resignation. “All right, um…yeah. Thank you.”

Why is he being so weird about Regulus now? It’s not like he’s invading our home.

As he stepped into the shower, Sirius tried to remember if James and Regulus had argued at the pub the previous night. He recalled his brother being extremely awkward with a lemon, but beyond that, he couldn’t think of any reason for James to act so strangely at the mention of him. 

If he thought for a minute that James fancied Regulus back, Sirius would interrogate him further, but James made himself clear. He wasn’t looking for a date and he didn’t want anyone interfering with the band, especially not his ex and Regulus. Which is unfortunate. We need all the allies we can get right now.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As he stepped into the cafè, Sirius gave the shop that Reggie picked a cursory once over. It was cozy and small without the specialty drinks and general snobbery that he’d expected to find. There were a half-dozen small square tables set up in the middle and several tucked-away booths for those who brought laptops to work and the severe introverts, like his brother. 

Sirius had arrived first, which was perfect. After placing their usual orders, he rounded the side of the counter to wait. Reggie walked in at the same time that the coffees were set on the counter. Handing him the Americano, Sirius sipped his cold-brew. He didn’t really care for hot coffee, but iced caffeine with an obscene number of flavor pumps was amazing.

“Thanks,” Regulus said, taking the cup. “Where do you want to sit?”

Sirius pointed at a booth in the back. “That’s fine.”

His brother looked pleased and followed his lead. They settled in and sipped their coffees in comfortable silence for a long while. Sirius assumed Regulus wanted more than his company, so he waited. It often took his brother a while to collect his thoughts if he was anxious. Is he anxious? Perhaps this is old hat to him now?

Clearing his throat, Regulus set his cup on the table and folded his arms in front of him. He was actively avoiding meeting Sirius’s eyes, which was interesting. “I started a song last night for the band, but I don’t think you’ll like it. It’s not subtle.”

“Oh?” Sirius fought back a grin, opting for curiosity instead. “Is it sappy? Please tell me you didn’t write a love song after James made a big deal about not wanting to sing ballads. That’s beyond petty, Reggie, even for you.”

“Erm, no,” Regulus replied, his cheeks tinged pink. “I would not call it sappy. It’s alternative rock as requested, and a bit experimental for me.”

Sirius was delighted, and leaned in conspiratorially. It took quite a lot to fluster his brother like this, so whatever this was about, it was good. “Well, now I’m intrigued. What is the song about? Or rather, who?”

Regulus sighed, pulling a small journal from his jacket pocket. He flipped through several pages, then smoothed it open on the table. Biting his bottom lip, he hesitated before sliding it over. “I just need to know if he’ll hate it, Sirius. If you think he will, I’ll rip it out. I haven’t even shown it to Pandora yet.”

“Who? James?” Sirius checked, eyes widening at his brother’s nod. “Okay, let me see.”

Regulus pushed the journal forward, then promptly clasped his hands in his lap. Sirius watched him fidget uncomfortably for a full thirty seconds before dropping his gaze to the journal. He scanned what appeared to be a chorus with multiple scores sketched out. It was heavy on the drums and bass, which he liked already. The lyrics were a different story. 

In the middle of the night,
in the middle of the night,
just call my name, I’m yours to tame.

In the middle of the night,
in the middle of the night,
I’m wide awake. I crave your taste.

All night long ‘til morning comes,
I’m getting what is mine.
You’re gonna get yours,
in the middle of the night.

“That’s…a lot for the first song,” Sirius admitted, flipping the page to check if there was more. There were two verses sketched out, and a number of random lines in the margins, but clearly it wasn’t polished. “James won’t hate it stylistically, you’re in the sweet spot for his voice, but you’re right. It’s not subtle.”

Regulus dropped his face to his arms, a flush running all the way up the back of his neck to his ears. The miserable sound that escaped him nearly sent Sirius into a giggle fit. It was entirely too funny to watch his brother gay-panic in real time. We never did this as teenagers. Are we making up for lost time?

“This was a terrible idea. I have no chill,” Regulus mumbled into his sleeve. “I need to hear him sing it, Sirius. Just once, please?”

“I recommend that you save this one and start on another,” Sirius said carefully. He slid the journal back across the table, but tapped the edge to catch his brother’s attention. “You could focus on a different person in the band. That may help.”

A loud huff sounded from the pitiful heap formerly known as Regulus. “That’s not how a muse works, Sirius. I can’t control who or what my mind hyperfocuses on. I tried, I swear!”

“Do you have any songs that you wrote earlier? I know you, Reggie. You never share everything at once. I’d bet you have a few that you’ve held back,” Sirius insisted, poking his brother’s wrist. 

“Obviously,” Regulus huffed. “I just don’t care about those songs right now.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “I have another suggestion then. Put together a few of those other songs and this one. That way it isn’t so blatant which one was recently written. Offer a mix of genres, if possible. That makes it look like you’re trying to feel us out and see what works. A sample of sorts.” 

Regulus lifted his head. “That’s a good idea, actually.”

“I’m capable of them from time to time.” Sirius steepled his hands in front of him, hoping he looked more confident than he felt. 

“Once a decade, sure,” Regulus snarked. He flipped through the journal and whispered to himself. Pulling a pen from his jacket pocket, he bit off the top and began noting in the journal. 

Just like he used to do in primary school.

“I think I can use this one, it’s almost done already.” His brother’s words were slightly garbled around the pen top in his mouth. “Not this one though, it’s for a higher octave.”

Sirius sipped his coffee and sat back in his seat, allowing himself a smug little smile. He was pretty bloody good at this big brother shit. Regulus had already returned to his neurotic version of normal, diligently searching through his journal and marking pages. His tongue trailed back and forth along the tips of his top teeth, which was a habit Sirius remembered fondly from when he was little.

It was easy to envision Regulus doing it at age four, when he was concentrating heavily on the piano lessons they were forced to take. He grinned at the memory. This was going to be fun.

While the idea of Regulus and James together still made bile rise in his throat a little, he could see how they might balance each other out. James was all bluster and taunts, but when it came down to it, he rarely backed his words up by throwing his fists. Notwithstanding his current moodiness, he was more likely to kiss someone than hit them. 

His brother, on the other hand, gave little warning before wielding his claws. Regulus may hide behind those claws a bit too much, but if anyone could convince him to put them away, it was probably James. When his brother was comfortable around someone, he could be witty and sweet. Not to mention, Regulus was easily as romantic as James fancied himself to be. 

They would be disgustingly obsessed with each other if they actually gave it a go. Sirius could feel it in his bones. The tricky bit was his gag reflex. Is their happiness really worth having to witness all of that? Questionable.

“What do you think about this one?” Regulus asked, sliding his notebook over again. “It leans heavily toward pop-rock, but it’s in the right key for you.”

Sirius flipped through the couple of pages and smiled. “Oh, I like this one! I don’t mind leaning into pop a little. I say ‘yes.’”

“Thank fuck. One more…or perhaps two…” Regulus muttered, lost in his thoughts again.

Seeing his brother in his element like this was a revelation of sorts. Anxiety had always plagued Regulus, which was understandable. Sirius’s trauma tended to manifest differently, but it came from the same source. No one walked away from parents like theirs without a little damage clinging to them. I want to see him happy. He deserves it. 

When Lily showed up at his flat Monday morning, James wasn’t surprised, but he was wary. She’d avoided stopping by ever since the break-up, even when he and the lads hosted parties,  citing a need to focus on her work. Apparently, that hiatus was over.

“It’s not a bad start,” Lily said, handing James a manila folder. “Over the weekend, Regulus put together a sample portfolio, and he wants feedback. I printed copies for all of you to review, but I have to collect them after. Everything has to remain in my possession and under my purview according to the contract. Pandora insisted on that point specifically.”

James shrugged, and accepted the folder. He wasn’t surprised by the stipulation. Most creatives he knew were fiercely protective of their work pre-release, himself included. 

Dropping onto the sofa, he flipped through the typed pages of lyrics, then the score for each instrument. There was a pop song, a ballad, a duet, and an alt-rock number according to the index on top. He flipped to the alternative song first, assuming that one would definitely be his to sing. 

After a quick glance over the melody, he tapped his foot to the beat and moved his fingers in the air, testing the chords. This one started with a bit of fluttery piano, but then launched into an incredible contrast of heavy guitar, bass, and drums with the piano underneath. There was a note about synths, which would delight Peter, and direction for Sirius to interpolate a transition. The guitar part was intense, but the bass and drums were the stars for sure. James nodded in appreciation, looking forward to trying it.

“Thoughts?” Lily asked, her tongue tucked into her cheek. 

James flipped back to the bass line and tapped the page pointedly. “Overall? Pretty good. Bass looks great, Remus will nail this. It’s perfect for a stage performance.”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “True. That’s all very true.”

Right, that’s not suspicious at all. Very subtle, Lily.

“What’s that for?” James asked warily, circling a hand in front of her face. He may not be able to read all of his friends’ faces, but Lily was particularly terrible at hiding her thoughts. They were almost always on full display. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m agreeing with you,” she replied, shrugging a little too innocently. “I just think that the lyrics for that song are banging, that’s all.”

James studied her for a moment, still suspicious. Then, he scanned the lyrics, blinking rapidly when he reached the chorus. This song was seductive as fuck, and not at all what he was expecting from Regulus. All of this from that uptight prat? Really?

“Oh, I…wow,” he breathed out, unsure how to react in front of Lily. Surely she didn’t want to know what he thought of the lyric, “I’m yours to tame.” 

Lily clicked her tongue in disappointment, crossing her legs in front of her. “‘Wow’ is an understatement, James. I wonder what, or rather who, inspired this song. Do you have any thoughts to share on that?”

“I’m sure he finds inspiration in a variety of places,” James answered distractedly. He reviewed the musical scores again, trying to imagine the lyrics sung with it. “I like this one, for sure, and I think the lads will too. I know our fans will.”

“Good, I want to hear it,” Lily agreed, amusement heavy in her voice. “Or rather, I want to watch you sing it.”

Which was the exact moment when James realized just how smug she was. Too smug. She knows something that I don’t. “Lily Jane Evans, why do you look so pleased with yourself?”

“No reason.” Lily held her hands up in mock surrender, but her grin grew wider. “I’m just so happy that you like this song too.”

James frowned, still thoroughly confused. “Glad we’re on the same page, I guess?”

“Oh Jamie, we aren’t even in the same book,” she teased, giggling.

James reached back, grabbed a pillow, and chucked it at her face. “If you’re just going to annoy me, sod off. I don’t need your shit this early in the morning.”

“Moody git!” she huffed, throwing the pillow back at him. “Look through the other ones too. I need to return these to Regulus with an answer today, and I still have to show them to Peter and Sirius. Based on which songs the band decides to claim, he’ll curate his style for future songs.” 

“How fast does he write these?” James asked, scanning the pages for a date. He didn’t believe for a second that someone as protective of his work as Regulus was wouldn’t track the dates for each song.

“I’m not sure. He’s supposed to be a prodigy, so I assume he writes fairly quickly once he’s inspired.” She shifted closer on the sofa as she considered it further. “I reckon he’ll tinker with the songs as needed. Kind of like you do.”

James ignored the reference to his songwriting. “Interesting. These three are all from the last six months, but the alt-rock song is from last week. Friday, actually.”

“Hmm, that is interesting. There must have been something at practice that ‘inspired’ him,” Lily said. 

“Well, he did come out to the pub with us after practice on Tuesday, but I doubt that means anything,” James replied, setting the song aside. 

Lily hummed a note of interest. “Ah, yes. The pub night. I saw a bit of that on Tik Tok.”

“Meaning what?”

Pulling out her mobile, Lily tapped on the screen before she turned it to face him. “The fans even tagged the band in it, which was nice of them.”

A fast pop beat played in the background as Sirius and Regulus danced across the screen. They were in sync the entire time, like half of a boy band. James watched intently. His view from the pub’s booth was at a rather awkward angle, but from the front, it was actually a rather impressive performance. Near the end, Regulus’s moves became so smooth it looked like Sirius was following him, rather than the other way around.

And I just had to give him shit about it. Why does he bother me so much?

“That’s great,” James offered, shrugging non-committally. “Although I’m not sure what that has to do with this song.”

Lily scrolled to the next video. “Maybe this will explain it.”

James inhaled sharply as his own face filled the screen, his features contorted in fury. He had no idea that he looked so terrifying when he was angry. It was mortifying to see himself so unhinged, especially in public. That wasn’t him. Defending Sirius was one thing, but that response unnerved him.

He winced when Sirius slapped the bastard and his pissed self lunged forward. James hissed through his teeth until Regulus appeared out of nowhere and shoved at his chest, telling him off. Surprised, he watched himself growl at Regulus and push forward, only to deflate and give in a moment later. Thank fuck I didn’t punch that bastard. I nearly fucked everything up.

Drunk James started to look away, then Regulus grabbed his chin and forced him to meet his eyes. He appeared every bit as angry as James, and from this angle, it looked like Regulus was taming him. Why the fuck did that calm me down so quickly?

“You don’t know that’s what inspired him,” James defended. He turned back to the songs, flipping to the one marked “Duet.”

“You’re right, I don’t know for sure, ” she agreed, stressing the last two words intentionally. “But I have my suspicions. You were lucky he intervened, Jamie. That could have escalated and set the whole band back. Reputations matter, especially now that everyone is on social media.”

“Did you show these to Remus yet?” he asked, nodding at the bass line. 

She rolled her eyes at his blatant deflection. “He’s okay with any of them, but was a fan of that alt-rock one too.”

“Not surprised, it has a heavy bass line,” James said. “He’d crush it.”

Lily chuckled. “He definitely would. Before I left his flat, he was already trying it out.”

“Can we try them at practice tomorrow?” James asked, flipping through the other songs and sliding the duet toward Lily. “I think I can sing this one with Sirius.”

“I agree. It’s within your range and the verses are perfect for Sirius.”

“I’m going to be honest, these two are a stretch for me. Remus has made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want to sing lead, so that kills this one.” James reviewed the last two side by side, then pushed the pop song aside and spread out the ballad. “This could work if Sirius sings the high parts. We could make it a call and response style, maybe? It may be too slow.”

With a deep sigh, Lily leaned forward and picked up the discarded pop song. “I really liked this one too. I wish Remus would get over his stage fright. He has a beautiful, smooth tone.”

“He knows, Lily. We all know. Can you let it go?” James snarked, tossing the remaining song into her lap. “Remus doesn’t need the stress, and I can’t blame him. The last thing any of us wants is for him to drop into a seizure mid-set.”

Lily froze, her gaze flicking up. “Remus told you about his epilepsy?”

“Yeah, so? Why does that surprise you?” 

“He’s a private person, Jamie. I can count on one hand the number of our mutual friends who know about his seizures,” Lily answered, tilting her head curiously. “How did you get so close to him so quickly? Are you two…”

James hated how immediately his defenses shot up. He didn’t want to push Lily away, but he couldn’t help guarding his heart around her now. “We talk a lot, that’s all.”

“If you say so,” she said, holding up her hands. “I won’t ask again.”

“It’s not like that, we’re friends,” James refuted.

“Fine. Let’s see your songs now.”

“What songs?” James asked, leaning back on the sofa. He linked his fingers behind his head and shrugged. “I just fool around in practice for fun. I don’t write that nonsense down.”

“Liar,” she countered, standing up. Lily wandered around the sitting room for a moment, trailing her fingers over the spines of the books on the floating shelves. “Sirius says you’re always scribbling in a black notebook. I know you wouldn’t leave it out here for anyone to find. Is it in your room?”

“What notebook?” he asked innocently. James refused to acknowledge her snooping, it would only encourage her. Nothing good can come from this.

Lily gave him a long, measuring look, and instantly he knew he was fucked. She had no intention of letting this go that easily. Striding purposefully across the sitting room, she pushed open the door to his bedroom. The bedroom that he had considered theirs not so long ago. “Nice try, but I’m not buying it, Potter.”

James groaned as he hauled himself to his feet. He hadn’t decided if he wanted to share his songs with anyone yet. Writing them was a catharsis more than anything. However, there was a small, vocal part of his mind that wanted to show her the damage she’d caused. It was petty jealousy, he realized, but as it turned out, he wasn’t as high-minded as he thought.

If she finds it, she can look through it. There’s no point trying to stop her when she gets that look on her face. Lily’s bringing this on herself.

He leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest while he watched her search his desk. There was nothing incriminating there, so he wasn’t concerned. It was almost amusing that even now, after everything that had happened between them, he and Lily still had a confrontational relationship. They knew which buttons to push and when to back off, but now there was a sharper edge to it. What would have been playful taunting before felt like a knife jabbed between his ribs.

Lily shoved a drawer closed, then frowned as she spun around to survey the rest of his room. She knew this space as intimately as he did, so he wasn’t terribly surprised when she headed straight for his wardrobe. Well, shit.

James’s shoulders dropped. “All right, all right. Stop snooping.”

“Too late, Jamie,” she sing-songed back to him, holding up his spiral notebook triumphantly. Lily plopped onto the edge of his bed and patted the mattress next to her. “I know you think your writing isn’t great, but I’ve heard your improvisations and they’re good!”

“Let’s not,” he said, reaching for the book. She never could leave things well enough alone.

Lily huffed and swatted his hand away. “Come on, what’s the harm?

“It’s in your own best interest to leave it be, Lily,” James warned, dropping into his desk chair. He spun around idly, mentally preparing for another row. Lying to Regulus about his writing was pure self-defense, mostly because what he’d written was rubbish, and he knew it. 

“Is that a ‘yes?’” Lily asked. She flicked the corner of the cover impatiently. “Just let me have a peek.”

James sighed, resigned to his fate. “Go on, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s not pretty, and you won’t like it.”

Silence fell over the room as she flipped through the notebook. Lily rested her chin in her hand and her elbow on her knee as she skimmed each page. It was difficult to judge her reaction at first, but eventually, her fingers cupped her mouth and her eyes widened.

“Jamie, these are all…” she trailed off, her brows drawn tightly together. 

“Depressing as fuck?” he offered, spinning faster in the office chair. James needed a distraction if they were actually going to discuss his songs. The dark, nasty, and destructive songs that he’d written in a fit of anger and resentment. “Yeah, I’m well aware.”

Lily looked up at him. “I knew you weren’t happy with our break-up, but are you okay? I mean, really okay?”

“Fuck no. I haven’t been for a while.” James continued to spin, enjoying the way his room tilted as the waves of light and color flew past. “Thanks for noticing.”

“You’ve felt this bad, and didn’t think to mention it? We used to talk things out,” she prompted, reaching out with her boot to stop the chair. “Jamie, look at me.”

“Which one of you? There’s about four redheads in my room at the moment,” he joked, blinking rapidly. 

“Don’t deflect. What’s going on?”

The chair came to an abrupt halt, and he waited for all of the versions of Lily to converge on the one highly disappointed figure. James studied her face for a moment, then looked away. It didn’t matter how nicely he phrased it, she wouldn’t take the truth well. 

“Let’s see. My long-time, super fit girlfriend broke up with me, then turned around and found the love of her life a few months later. The lead singer of my band turned out to be a lying, cheating prick who hurt my best friend, and I had to take his place. My parents are both elderly and I’m terrified of losing them. I just handed over control of my band to aforementioned ex-girlfriend and some blonde twit with a tablet attached to her hand. I can’t stand being single, but every girl I meet bores the shit out of me. Can’t imagine why I’m a depresso espresso, care to enlighten me?”

Lily inhaled sharply and a flush rushed up her chest. “That is a lot to handle at once, I’ll admit. Have you considered therapy?”

“I don’t need therapy, Lily,” James refuted stubbornly. He pushed off of the ground again and reveled in the fluttery feeling in his gut as he spun around. “I need to get out of my head, not dive deeper in and analyze it. Escapism doesn’t work if you dwell on your shit too long.”

“Well, I can’t make you get help, but I still think you should. You probably don’t want to talk to me about it, which is understandable—”

“Your opinion is duly noted and discarded,” he interrupted. “Now, kindly leave me and my notebook full of sad, shitty songs alone.”

Lily hesitated before walking out of the room, as if she wanted to say more, but thought better of it. The painfully familiar clink of her keys against her purse as she gathered her things was followed by the soft thud of her footfalls. The front door slammed shut, as it often used to do when she went through it. 

It’s not her fault, but fuck I wish it was. 

James lifted up from the chair when it finally came to a stop. He stumbled dizzily toward his bed, and crashed face first into the mattress. A good “friend” would have stopped her from leaving, or better yet, simply barred her from his room. He could have refused to let her see the songs that unfairly blamed her for all of his pain. Perhaps he was secretly a sadistic son of a bitch, inflicting his own pain on others. Or, perhaps he wanted someone else to feel that pain and acknowledge its existence. My existence.

His hand found the cover of the notebook and dragged it closer. James spilled his entire heart and soul in these songs, then was startled to discover he wasn’t as happy in their relationship as he’d thought. Shoving it all down meant his emotions were little more than sludge when they finally came back up. 

He glanced at the notebook and groaned. No wonder she was worried. The last song she’d read through was pretty damning. 

It took a bullet to the heart to break me outta my ways.
Always on the corner of hello and insane.
It’s lonelier to live without you, but I’m finally worth saving.

The days are getting colder and I like it this way.
I wish the old me would have known me, 
so I could see the other side.

I hate who I am in love, so now I can’t be.
I lose everything all for what, just a heartbeat.
I’m tired of being the one that’s broken.

Admittedly, James didn’t often read through his songs after he wrote them. It was a spur of the moment trauma dump paired with a melody that he couldn’t get out of his head, until he wrote it down. Regulus would have a field day poking fun at this muddled mess.

The thought caught him off-guard. James buried his face in the quilt and scoffed at himself. His brain was clearly still tripped up by that video Lily had shown him. Seeing Regulus handle him so effortlessly was jarring…and kind of hot. 

“Nope, we’re not going there,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Not after I gave Sirius so much shit about fancying Remus.” I’d be such a hypocrite if I fancied his brother.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Hey, lads,” James called, holding up a hand to get their attention. “I know it’s a bit weird for us to practice our individual parts here, instead of at home, but let’s give it a go.”

Thankfully, he’d memorized a good amount of the alt-rock song and practiced a bit at home. Which was significantly more effort than the others. Peter hadn’t even been home for more than two days in a row after their pub night, so it wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t had the time. He stared at the sheet music like it was in a foreign language, and played way too slow, which threw Sirius off on his own intro. 

James let the shit-show go on for the entirety of the song, wonky bits and all, but skipped the vocals so they could focus on the music. At this rate, they would be at it for weeks before they got it down. He was going to have to schedule more practices.

“Well, that was awful,” Sirius grumbled, tossing his drumsticks in his lap. 

“It was definitely that,” Peter agreed. He played a discordant trill on his keyboard, then turned to James. “I played like shit, but you sounded all right. Any thoughts to add?”

James pointed at him. “Let’s take our music to separate spots and work it out. Sirius, you’ll stay here, obviously. The rest of us will move around. I’ll carry your keyboard for you, Pete.”

“I’ll stay here too, actually,” Remus replied, gaze focused on his bass. “It will be helpful to hear the beat.”

Sirius’s head snapped up, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at Remus’s back in open confusion. James spotted a tiny shred of hope in his eyes as he waited uncertainly. Sirius had largely avoided Remus since their row, not even attempting to sneak glances when his back was turned. Which was a little funny, because Remus seemed far less capable of ignoring him now.

“Right, off we go,” James announced, hefting the keyboard off of the stage. Peter trailed behind him holding the cables aloft.

Once the keyboard was set up in one area of the room, James made his way to the opposite side. His acoustic, a Gibson vintage sunburst that he was rather proud of, was slung over his back and his sheet music was tucked under his arm. The sofas Pandora had added to the space looked more comfortable than the floor, so he dropped onto the grey one, then spread out his music on the table in the center. 

James read over the first couple of lines and strummed through the opening. He mumbled the lyrics to himself as he went, trying to match the notes as best he could. When he heard Sirius begin, he restarted the song. It helped hearing Remus and Sirius play in the background while he focused on his own part. Separated like he was, he could actually hear himself over their instruments. 

“In the middle of the night, 
in the middle of the night. 
Just call my name, I’m yours to tame. 

In the middle of the night, 
in the middle of the night. 
I’m wide awake, I crave your taste.”

As the words sank in, James’s mind helpfully created an image to accompany those lyrics. An unnecessarily erotic image of Regulus sprawled on a bed, ordering him around. James sighed, then rubbed a hand over his face. He tucked his guitar pick into his mouth and chewed on it, trying to pull himself together. It was a terrible habit, but soothing for some reason. Maybe I have an oral fixation. 

He didn’t even know what Regulus looked like naked, but that didn’t stop his brain from taking a wild stab at a guess. On one hand, fantasizing about his best friend’s brother was an excellent distraction from his depressive thoughts. On the other, it was entirely inappropriate and mildly mortifying. 

Regulus had given him no reason to believe he was interested, after all. Everything he’d said or done so far was detached and professional. Although his brain didn’t need permission to distract itself. It seemed to enjoy torturing him by imagining what he couldn’t have.

“Need anything?”

“Hmm?” James hummed absently, glancing up from the table and pausing his dissociating.

Regulus stood in front of him and stared expectantly. The bloke was fully dressed, unfortunately. He was wearing a silk button-up and trouser combination again with a half-dozen rings on his fingers. Somehow, he managed to make a fairly simple outfit look put-together. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, n onchalant, exuding disinterested confidence.

“Do you need anything?” Regulus repeated, propping his hands on his hips.

A blowie would be nice, his brain helpfully supplied. James nearly choked on his pick, quickly pulling it out of his mouth before he swallowed it. “No, I’m fine.”

I'm such a coward, he mused.

“Mind if I listen to you practice then?” Regulus asked.

“Go ahead.” James gestured vaguely at the sofa opposite his own. “I’m just sorting it out in my head first though.”

Regulus settled onto a green sofa, then gestured at a black guitar case nearby. “Do you want to hear the song the way I imagined it?”

James’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I didn’t realize you played guitar.”

“How do you think I wrote the music?” Regulus opened the guitar case and pulled out a stunning black Gibson J-180 with stars inlaid on the top and silver sparkle purfling around the edges.

James gaped, stuttering at the sight. “Is that…a Ren Ferguson?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. From 1993, I believe.” Regulus affectionately stroked over the deep curve along the guitar’s side like a lover admiring his partner. “I always dreamed of performing with him, but I was only allowed to play classical at home. This is one of the only instruments I kept from my old life. I couldn’t part with him.”

“Him? Does it have a name?” James asked, unable to look away from Regulus’s hands as he pet the instrument.

Regulus hummed in vague agreement, but didn’t explain. He eyed the pick in James’s hand, then glanced at his mouth. “Do you have a pick I can borrow?”

“Oh, yeah,” James said, pulling a clean pick out of his pocket. “Here. This one’s new.”

Regulus took it, but looked a little disappointed. What did I do now?

He began strumming idly on the guitar before launching into the opening of the song. Regulus’s eyes fell closed as he played, the lyrics drifting smoothly from his lips. James was stunned by the sultry tone of his voice as he sang. Regulus’s rich vibrato flowed over his skin, setting off a rush of goosebumps.

“I’ll captivate, you’re hypnotized. 
Feel powerful, but it’s me again. 
Come…lay me down. 
Cause you know this, 
cause you know this sound.” 

James swallowed hard as he gathered every detail. The soft waves that curled slightly around Regulus’s chin that begged to be tucked behind his ear, his angular jaw, and the gentle bow of his lips. The contrasts in his features were breathtaking. Every sharp angle matched with a curve that accentuated his androgynous look. Who allowed him to be this pretty? I’d like to file a complaint.

James knew that he was staring, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away if he tried. Not that he was trying. When Regulus’s eyes blinked open mid-chorus, James was mesmerized. It was too late to pretend that he hadn’t been staring at his lips as they formed each word.

Regulus finished the song, then started to pull the guitar strap off of his shoulders. James wanted to watch him sing those words over and over, again and again. It was intoxicating, and he was unabashedly addicted to the intensity in Regulus’s eyes. 

“Again,” James said.

Regulus hesitated, then slid the strap back over his head. As he launched into the song again, his eyes stayed open this time and remained firmly focused on James. The seductive lyrics were aimed at him, and him alone, just like he wanted. A small smirk twitched at the corner of Regulus’s mouth, inciting the disastrous urge to snog it off of his face. 

Well, fuck me. This bloke is dangerous.

Regulus searched James’s face as he played the song he’d tentatively titled, “Middle of the Night.” Surely it was a good sign that he’d asked to hear it again, even if James didn’t say another word as he sang. He was fully focused on Regulus’s mouth as if he could see the lyrics as well as hear them. Is this working? Or have I become completely delusional?

He’d embraced the seductive nature of the lyrics, rather than pretend to ignore it, and embodied the essence of the song as best he could in his voice, finger movements, and intense gaze. This not-so-subtle, yet hands-off flirting was where he excelled. It was a risk —a big, scary, profession-ruining risk— but when the opportunity presented itself, he had to try. 

When he finished, Regulus waited expectantly for James to say something, or join in, or gesture vaguely. Any response would do, really. Instead, James stared at him with a slightly bemused expression and held his guitar loosely on his lap. After a few long minutes of silence with zero feedback, Regulus huffed and flicked the borrowed pick at James’s face.

“Wake up, Potter! What did you think?”

James jolted back when the pick clinked against his glasses. “Oh yeah, that was good.”

“Great. Can I listen to you play it?” Regulus asked, physically restraining his frustration. Give me something, you infuriating git.

“Yeah, when the rest of the band is ready.” James turned away, rubbing at the back of his neck as he leaned over his guitar and studied the music.

Disappointed, Regulus reluctantly put his guitar away and left James to his practice. It was possible they were getting somewhere, but not as far or as fast as he expected. So much for impressing him with my music. 

He needed a distraction, and a quick survey of the room exposed Peter’s struggle.

“ “Hey Peter,” Regulus called out, striding over to him. “Can I hear your part?”

Peter waved him over eagerly. “Yes! I think I have it mostly sorted now, but this one part has me lost.”

For the next thirty minutes, Regulus forcibly pushed the infuriating James Potter out of his mind and focused on the work. He wasn’t usually this hands-on with the musicians he wrote for, but he liked Peter. Not to mention he’d finally recovered from his shock at finding this ridiculous man sitting between his roommates on the sofa Saturday morning. Regulus refused to process what that meant, and no one offered an explanation. Peter himself nearly passed out when he saw him.

It’s none of my business. I don’t want to know.

Which was exactly what he’d said to the lot of them when he swiped his coat off the coat rack and escaped the flat that morning. He’d hid out at Dorcas’s for the remainder of the day and finished his song. This song. The song that said everything I wanted to hear from him.

“I think I’ve got it! Thanks!” Peter said, ending with a little flourish and a smile. He glanced around nervously and added, “Can you not mention Saturday to the others? I’m still sorting it out myself and—-”

“Of course, please don’t go any further. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen, yes?”

Peter sagged with relief. “Thanks. I’d better head back to the stage then.”

Regulus nodded solemnly and stepped back as Peter unplugged his keyboard and reached out to pick it up. Suddenly, James swooped out of nowhere and scooped it up like it weighed nothing. Peter snorted a laugh, then chased after his friend and band mate. Regulus followed them, admiring the muscles of James’s back and shoulders as they flexed and strained against his shirt.

He’s disgustingly fit, I want to bite him.

“Impressive, isn’t it? ” Peter teased, elbowing Regulus lightly. He nodded at Sirius and Remus, then wriggled his eyebrows. “This is becoming a rather homoerotic session, isn’t it?”

Remus promptly dropped his pick, then tripped over a cable while reaching down to pick it up. He barely managed to steady himself on the amp to avoid a crash. Peter’s eyebrows lifted intently as he studied the bass player, then his smug grin spread as he turned back to Regulus. 

“Is it contagious?” Peter whispered, winking at him. He spun back to the stage with exaggerated innocence. “What do you think, Jamesie?”

“Probably,” James said distractedly. He was busy toying with the cables and didn’t look up when Regulus walked by.

Even after the disastrous pub night that no one talked about, Regulus wasn’t immune to James. It was near torture to avoid looking at him as he waited for their group practice to start, but he made an effort anyway. While James was certainly arrogant, his ego was centered mainly on his band rather than his figure. Regulus wanted to touch him so badly that he clenched his hands into fists to stem the urge. Every interaction with James left him wanting more.

Not that he expected to get more, which did little to stem his interest. His heart wasn’t involved yet, thankfully. Even if he did occasionally find himself wishing James liked him as much as he did Sirius. What does he have that I don’t?

“Let’s give this another go, yeah?” James suggested, leaning down to grab his electric guitar. 

They played the song three times straight through, and the last one was nearly flawless. James punched the air in celebration, then pointed at Peter. “One more time? So I can give the lyrics a go?”

Peter nodded, then launched into the opening medley. As Sirius waited for his turn to join in, Regulus positioned himself purposely off to the side and out of James’s line of view. He leaned against the back of one of the new sofas with hands braced behind him for support. 

As James began to play, his fingers flew across the strings. Strong, calloused hands that he’d imagined perfectly in his dream. That gravelly voice shifted into a powerful belt for the chorus, and only increased in intensity as the energy of the song burst free. 

When the next verse started with the piano alone, James softened his tone. Then once again, as the energy rose, so did the intensity of his voice. At the end of the last chorus, James growled out the final lines into the mic, and it sent a shiver up his spine. 

“Til morning comes,
I'm getting what is mine.
You’re gonna get yours, oh!

In the middle of the night,
In the middle of the night…”

Overwhelmed, Regulus sat down on the back of the sofa with his legs crossed and a fist pressed to his mouth. A quick glance confirmed that he wasn’t the only one in the room taken aback by the effect of James’s heavy growl. An exasperated huff drew his attention to Remus, whose face was wrought with confusion. 

“Fuck, James!” Peter yelled, throwing his hands out dramatically. “Now I have a boner in the middle of practice. Not cool, mate.”

The bark of laughter that burst from Sirius seemed to catch him off-guard as much as everyone else, but Regulus was grateful that it eased the tense moment of stunned silence. His brother added a chaotic riff to accompany it before he dropped onto his knees and waved his sticks over his head in surrender. Peter shook his head as James laughed with him, Remus joining in a moment later. The pure idiocy of the moment was just too much. 

“Oh, that was gold,” Lily said, stepping out from the shadows with her phone held aloft. “We will definitely be adding that one to TikTok when this song is released.”

Peter snorted a laugh. “Always glad to entertain the masses.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Off and on throughout the rest of practice, Regulus noticed James sneaking looks at him. It wasn’t nearly as covert as Remus glancing at his brother either. He’d caught the twit staring openly at him so many times that even Sirius had noticed. Am I imagining this?

Singing to James hadn’t worked out quite the way he’d expected, but he couldn’t complain about the attention. Whatever he’d done to earn this unfettered interest was entirely worth it. Now, if only he could convince James to come over to his side of the dank warehouse and snog him. Surely no one in this wide open, mostly empty room would notice. Not that I’d care if they do.

Unfortunately, the band seemed to be enough of a distraction to keep James on the stage. So, Regulus spent most of the afternoon writing. Everything that came out of his mind was centered around a particularly fit bloke, which wasn’t surprising.

After practice, Regulus cornered Sirius with excitement practically vibrating through him. The practice had gone really well overall, and hearing James sing his song had restored his determination to win him over. Grabbing Sirius’s arm, he dragged him outside and then flung his back against the brick. They stood shoulder to shoulder and leaned on the wall while Regulus gathered his thoughts. 

Finally, he turned to Sirius and grinned. “You know what? I think he’s coming around.”

“What gave you that impression?” Sirius asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket. 

Regulus’s hope crumbled like a discarded piece of paper. “You don’t think so?”

Sirius scratched the back of his neck, then sighed. “Reggie, it’s not that simple. Do you have his attention now? Sure. Not sure it’s much deeper than that though.”

“Oh.” 

Disappointment ripped Regulus’s lungs out of his chest and squashed them on the ground. If that was the truth, then he needed to hear it. Sirius knew better than anyone how it felt to be eager and desperate for affection. One small ribbon of James’s attention had sent him chasing after him like a feral kitten. I’m pathetic.

“Look, if you want to shag him and move on,” Sirius said, a cigarette tucked between his fingers, “Gross, but fine. If you want more than that, he’s not there yet.”

Regulus dropped his chin to his chest and wrapped his arms around his waist. Although frustration filled his chest, he nodded. “Perhaps I misread things. It seemed like he was finally showing interest, that’s all.”

“I’m not saying it’s a lost cause,” cautioned Sirius, flicking his lighter. When the end of his cigarette caught, he inhaled deeply and held it in his chest. The words poured out of him along with the smoke. 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt. Don’t set yourself up for rejection, Reggie. Take your time and let it happen naturally, if it’s going to happen at all.”

“You don’t think it will happen, do you?” Regulus said, the words almost shamefully whispered under his breath. “He’s not going to come around.”

Sirius shrugged. “I can’t predict his feelings. What I can tell you is that James is a bit lost at the moment. I didn’t see how bad it was until last night. I overheard him telling Lily off for asking about his songwriting notebook, then he skipped dinner to hide in his room.”

“His songwriting notebook?” Regulus hesitated, momentarily lost. Then, in an instant, it clicked. Everything suddenly made sense. “James said he didn’t write his songs down. He…lied?”

He frowned, turning to face Sirius with his fingertips pressed to his brow thoughtfully. James was hiding his songs, even from his close friends, which had to mean they were revealing in some way. When he glanced up, Sirius’s eyes were overly bright and intensely focused on him

“I think I can reach him, Sirius. If he lets me see his songs,” Regulus said carefully. He needed to get closer to James, one way or another, and music was still the primary connection between them. Regulus had no intention of interfering in Sirius and James’s friendship. No matter what this collaboration led to, he had to keep it separate from the two of them.

“How?” Sirius asked, tilting his head curiously. “How do you know you can fix him? You don’t even know what’s wrong?”

Regulus stared him down with his chin lifted defiantly. “I don’t intend to fix him, but I know what it’s like to drown in pain or to lose yourself to the depths of despair. I’m intimately familiar with feeling like the world’s sole purpose is to decimate any small twinge of joy that’s left in your life. If I can drag myself into the light, perhaps I can help him too.”

Sirius swiveled toward Regulus and rested his shoulder against the wall. Taking a long haul on his cigarette, Sirius eyed him warily. He’s taking a measure of me. Does he find me lacking?

“It’s not your responsibility to save him,” Sirius said bluntly, avoiding his gaze. “James has to save himself. He needs to find the strength to move forward and the desire to want out of this hole he’s dug for himself. There’s nothing you can do.”

“You’re wrong,” Regulus insisted. “If he lets me in, I could—”

Sirius pointed the cigarette at him. “Reggie, you’re many things, but you’re not a therapist. Don’t interfere with this. I’m telling you, that’s not your lane.”

Regulus scoffed, “As if a therapist ever helped either of us. They walk you in circles, trying to ‘expose’ your pain. ‘Let’s talk it out’ is all they have to offer when it is far more effective to embrace the pain and channel the emotions into something productive.” 

When Sirius winced, Regulus pointed at him. “You know I’m right.”

“That worked for us, but you can’t know that it will work for him,” Sirius refuted, shaking his head. “It’s not a one-size-fits-all solution, and I’m not convinced you’re the right person for this.”

“Do you really think that James would benefit from ‘talking it out?’” 

“I don’t know. He certainly won’t talk to me, and he buries it with everyone else.” After another long drag on his cigarette, Sirius stubbed it out on the wall. “I want to say it’s possible, Reggie, I really do. You should be prepared for both outcomes. If this blows up in your face, then you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Sirius still thinks I’m a child, that I’ll break under the pressure. He doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does, if he thinks I’ll leave it on his say so.

Regulus released a long, exasperated breath, then patted Sirius’s cheek condescendingly. “As usual, you greatly underestimate me.”

Sirius blinked rapidly as Regulus spun around and re-entered the door. It was gratifying to know that he could still surprise his older brother every once in a while. He should know better, and perhaps now he will.

Regulus was the one who resiliently stared down their mother when she hit him instead of Sirius, refusing to show one iota of reaction. The one who defended their cousin, Narcissa, with a pocket knife when her father threatened to cut her hair off, and quietly dared him to try. He’d also secretly patched up Sirius’s favorite jacket when it ripped, destroying his own coat in the process. Admittedly, his vulnerability was his refusal to protect himself, but Regulus found strength in a fierce protection of others. 

Masking wasn’t necessary when he maintained firm control of his reactions. Regulus simply molded himself into an immovable obstacle in the path of emotional outbursts. He may not be able to win James over, but if he could help him navigate the darkness, that would be enough. It will have to be enough.

His determined expression startled Lily as he passed her. She stepped back and held up both hands in mock surrender. Regulus offered a small grin that was immediately returned.

Sirius had unintentionally challenged him out there. He told Regulus that someone was drowning, and there was nothing he could do. Brilliantly stupid move. I will prove him wrong, again.

While crouched over an amp, James didn’t even see him coming. It wasn’t until he heard Remus’s sharp inhale that he realized something changed. Then, he could feel the shift too. 

A strange energy rolled through the room and all of the conversations abruptly stopped. James turned his head to scan the space. Nothing stood out. 

Until Regulus cleared his throat. James’s head snapped in the opposite direction. The loud crack made him wince, but only drew an arched eyebrow from the songwriter who stood behind him. Or rather, loomed over him, mere inches away.

Regulus reached out and firmly rubbed the nape of James’s neck. He was startled by the unexpected touch, but his muscles immediately relaxed and his shoulders dropped back in place. Regulus’s fingertips trailed down the top of his spine before his hand dropped. A shiver chased after his touch.

James was dumbfounded. The bloke standing over him looked like Regulus, but the calm, confident demeanor was new. It took him a full minute to process the change. What was that for?

He slowly rose to his feet, towering over Regulus from the edge of the stage. James searched his face for an explanation, but he gave little away. 

“Everything all right?” Regulus asked nonchalantly.

“I’m…fine. Are you?” James answered carefully.

“Brilliant. What song are you practicing next?”. 

The genuine pride shining in Regulus’s eyes when he spoke of his songs sucked all of the air out of James’s chest. It was a shot of pure dopamine, sending a rush of pleasure over his nerves. Regulus was fucking beaming and it was…a lot.

James couldn’t remember anything outside of his own name for a full thirty seconds. His chest was bursting with something that he was legitimately terrified to identify. Sheer panic overruled his brain as his mind scrambled to understand why Regulus was suddenly even more attractive. The urge to jump off of the stage entirely to snog him senseless was intense. What is wrong with me?

“James?” Remus called out, waving a hand in front of his face. 

He blinked, then jerked back. “What?”

“Regulus asked what song we’re practicing next?” Remus repeated. 

“Oh, the duet?” James suggested, turning back. 

Regulus bit his bottom lip, his entire face lighting up in delight all over again. James felt his jaw drop open and quickly snapped himself out of the stunned awe he’d fallen into. He turned and refocused on his guitar while trying to sort through the confusion. 

What the fuck just happened?

Sirius swatted his shoulder as he passed by. Dropping onto the stool behind his drum kit, he surveyed the situation and mouthed “good luck.”

It was surreal. As if a spell was cast over the entire space. No one moved. 

When he spotted Lily eyeing Regulus with a satisfied smile, James realized that he was indeed in trouble. He wasn’t entirely sure how or why, but he knew what trouble felt like…and this was it. Was Lily right? Did he write that song about me?

When Peter took his post behind the keyboard, he goon-grinned. The pure glee on his face was further confirmation. Peter would like better than for James to properly date a bloke. It was a personal mission of his to encourage it, just to spite James’s insistence that he preferred women.

“We’re doing the duet then? Is that what I heard?” Peter asked, meeting Regulus’s gaze with a wry smile. “I really like that one. Well done, mate.”

“Thank you, Peter,” Regulus replied, his voice practically a purr. 

James slid his guitar strap over his head and mentally prepared himself as he lifted his gaze to find Regulus exactly where he left him. His eyes still shone with pride, and it was disconcerting how deeply that look affected him. All of his worries and insecurities were momentarily drowned out by the warmth spreading through his chest. 

He shuffled the sheet music and set up the duet. Giving it a quick review, he glanced back at Sirius to check that he was ready. His best friend was actively fighting giddy laughter like a child. 

“Sirius, you have the verses, yeah?”

“Mm-hmm,” he said, then snorted out another laugh. 

Remus turned fully around at the sound, then met James’s gaze in bewilderment. He glanced between Peter and Regulus, then back to James with an equally confused expression. James felt a little better knowing that he wasn’t alone.

“1.2.3.4…” Sirius counted in. 

James focused on the music, skipping the lyrics for the first go. On the second run through, Sirius led the lyrics while James joined in on the chorus. It was a pretty simple song with a strong bass line, so they had it down by the third run through. 

“Reggie, what the fuck is this even about?” Sirius asked afterwards. “It doesn’t make any sense as a love song.”

Regulus scoffed derisively. “It’s not a love song, you twit. This one’s about you.”

“No shit? You wrote a song for me? ” Sirius jumped up from the stool and leapt off the stage to tackle-hug his brother. “You complete sap! Love you too, Reggie!” 

Surprised, James re-read the lyrics. He’d thought the same thing, that it was a weird love song. With a second look, it made a lot more sense that it was about his brother.

If I didn’t have you, there would be nothing left.
The shell of a man that could never be his best.
If I didn’t have you, I’d never see the sun.
You taught me how to be someone

All my life, you stood by me
when no one else was ever behind me.
All these lights, they can’t blind me.
With your love, nobody can drag me down.

When he looked up, James couldn’t help grinning at Regulus. The bloke was completely overwhelmed by his brother’s enthusiastic affection. He rolled his eyes with a thoroughly annoyed expression on his face, but didn’t push Sirius away. It was adorable. 

Fuck me, he’s adorable. That’s how it started with Lily too. Startled, James shook his head to dislodge the comparison.

“All right, that’s enough,” Pandora huffed, shooing Sirius away. “Get those two songs solid today. We need to post a teaser for the collaboration by the end of the week.”

“Love you too, Pandora!” Sirius teased, releasing his brother to sneak a kiss on her cheek. 

She squawked at him, which sent him into a fit of laughter as he launched back up onto the stage. On the way, Sirius gleefully unplugged James’s amp and hit the power switch on Peter’s keyboard, cueing a matched set of groans in response.

Remus shook his head as his gaze trailed the antics all the way to the drum kit. Then, the twit turned away and fussed with his bass strap when Sirius swiveled around on his stool. Sirius narrowed his eyes, then reached over his kit to straighten the back for him. As soon as a hand touched the strap, Remus froze. Sirius, unperturbed, smoothed it out and patted his back before returning to his drums like nothing happened. 

James grinned at the panicked look on Remus’s face. It would take some time for him to adjust to Sirius’s personal brand of chaos. He could flip from sweet to arsehole and back again in a blink of an eye. 

As he bent down to plug his guitar back into the amp, he felt Regulus’s gaze sweep over him appreciatively. Immediately, his body reacted. Damn it, Regulus.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Hey lads!” Lily called out, clapping her hands. “I’ve booked a gig for tomorrow night. Convinced the owner of The Green Square to give us the main act!”

Peter whooped. “Yes! Lily, you’re amazing!”

“Thank you, Lils!” Sirius added, shimmying in place. 

James nodded at her, then returned to his wiring work. He was trying a new technique with the cables, hoping to keep them from tripping him up. Twice this week alone, he’d landed on his arse in front of Regulus’s crew.

As requested, they’d practiced the new songs and a few covers to round out their set list. He was excited to see how their fans responded to the original works, especially “Middle of the Night.” James just knew that one was going to blow them away like it had him.

As he finished plaiting the first bunch of cables, James glanced at the far corner curiously. Regulus was actively writing right now and his process was fascinating. Pandora set up a keyboard, his black acoustic guitar, and a silver bass next to the sofas. He moved from instrument to instrument, then wrote frantically in his little journal. Every so often, he heard Regulus’s voice, but he couldn’t make out the words. 

The pace of his work was astonishing. It often took James months of toying with lyrics to work out something decent. Even then, he often changed them later on and only wrote for the guitar. He just couldn’t hear the other instruments in his head like he could his guitar. 

James sat back on his heels and admired the bloke’s nimble fingers sliding up and down the frets. The ease with which he played guitar made James’s nerves sizzle with electricity. It was so bloody hot. No wonder he’d been hypnotized when the bloke played for him alone.

When Regulus’s skill was added to the charm he turned on like a switch after their first one-on-one session, James struggled to keep his distance. He was drawn to him. It was equally frustrating and intoxicating at the same time.

James hadn’t realized he was staring until Sirius cuffed his jaw. Swatting back at him instinctively, James caught the pointed look. This again. Sirius wasn’t chastising him openly for his sudden fixation on Regulus, but he was clearly not thrilled with it either. 

“What? I wasn’t doing anything,” James protested, shifting to the second bunch of cables. 

Sirius scoffed, “Oh, right. You’re lusting after our contracted songwriter, but I’m the unprofessional one.”

“What are you on about?” 

Sirius dropped into a crouch in front of him, then pointed his finger in James’s face. “You gave me a world of shit for fancying Remus and here you are drooling over Reggie. Tell me again how that’s nothing, James.”

James mentally noted the fact that Sirius omitted his own relationship to Regulus in that accusation, but decided to unpack that later. He shook his head. “You’re delusional. I’m just interested in his process. Look how fast he’s writing! “

Without a glance in his brother’s direction, Sirius rolled his eyes and shoved James’s shoulder. “I’m delusional? If you think I believe a word of that, you’ve gone off it.”

“I’m not lying! It’s impressive how fast he writes and how many instruments he plays. More than you, I reckon,” James shot back, shoving Sirius in retaliation. 

“He does, actually,” Sirius admitted, letting out an oof when he fell back onto his bum. “Last I heard it was a half-dozen or so. He was in the gifted music program and everything in uni.”

James caught a flash of envy in Sirius’s eyes when he said it, but then it quickly dissolved into brotherly pride. Sirius was supposed to be in the music program too, but his parents had him booted out when he refused to go home after the second semester. That was an old injury.

“Anyway, that doesn’t matter,” Sirius dismissed. “My point is that you’re not as subtle as you think you are, so you better rein in those judgmental looks when you’re just as guilty.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” James refuted, refocusing on the second bunch of cables. “Just because I find his talent impressive doesn’t mean I fancy him. Not everyone thinks with their dick all the time.” When did I become such a liar?

Sirius scowled. “I do not!”

“I didn’t say you did. Since the concept offended you so much, I’d say you’re telling on yourself,” James countered, aiming a smug grin at him. “Funny that.”

“Prick.”

“Twat.”

“Will you two just snog and get it over with?” Peter taunted, kicking Sirius’s boot as he climbed up on the stage. “I swear, you bicker like a married couple.”

Sirius launched into a multitude of faux retching sounds, one worse than the other. His face was twisted up in disgust and he flailed his hands dramatically. It was his go-to response to any intimation of the two of them together. 

Not that James disagreed. He just didn’t appreciate the insinuation that he was gross, especially in front of Regulus. Shit. No.

Caught off-guard by his own train of thought, James’s reaction came out stronger than he intended. “Fuck off!” 

“It's disgusting!” Sirius snapped.

Remus stepped up to the edge of the stage and glanced between the two of them curiously. “What’s disgusting?” 

“Snogging him!” Sirius replied, scrunching up his nose. 

“Oh. You’ve given it a go then?” Remus asked. The mischievous glint in his eye gave the game away to everyone, except Sirius.

“What? No! Abso- fucking- lutely not!” Sirius refuted, scrambling away from James. “That’s like kissing my brother. Hard pass.”

Regulus’s head snapped up. “What?” 

The thoroughly confused look on his face was delightful. Sirius hadn’t meant to, he was sure, but he’d just given James the perfect segue to taunt him back. Riling up Regulus was a tiny bit of revenge, that’s all it was. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Sirius said that snogging me would be like snogging you,” James said with his best attempt at an innocent shrug.

“How would he know?” Regulus shot back, aiming a glare at his brother. 

Sirius threw out his hands defensively. “I’ve never snogged either of you! Shut it, James!”

Peter scoffed, “Oh come on, Sirius. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. I've even considered laying one on James. He’s a proper stunner.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

“You’re welcome,” Peter replied, nodding at him. “Come on now. The way James wandered around our dorm dripping wet in nothing but a towel after his showers? And I’m meant not to notice? You’re lying if you say otherwise, Sirius.”

Regulus walked slowly toward the stage as he glanced from one to the other with interest. He didn’t say anything, but when his gaze landed on James, it took a leisurely journey over his body as if he was imagining that scene for himself. James tried to focus on Sirius’s spluttering denial, but he was shamelessly pleased with the appraisal. It’s been a minute since someone looked me up and down like that while sober.

James had struggled to keep his reactions under control earlier this week, but now, he allowed himself to enjoy it. He worked hard for his figure and refused to be ashamed of it, especially when someone both appreciated his body and the person inside of it. He swore that Regulus stared into his soul, and didn’t seem to find him wanting.

Remus leaned forward and rested his elbows on the big speaker with his chin in his hands. “Yeah, I’m not buying that either, Black. A fit bloke like him in a towel walking around in front of me? I’m done.”

Sirius’s blathering came to an abrupt halt as he stared at Remus in surprise. After a full beat of silence, he smirked. “Remind me to give that a go sometime, will you?”

“Sod off!” Peter chastised. He collapsed onto his keyboard and the keys made a discordant plunk as he giggled hysterically. 

“Sirius!” Regulus protested, shuddering in disgust. 

James laughed. “Quit flirting! We were discussing snogging, not nudity. Stay on topic for once!” 

Remus rolled his eyes. “I don’t think we’re capable of that, James. You’re asking too much of us.”

“The point …” Sirius reiterated, pointing at James. “...is that I never have, never wanted to, and never will snog James. To insinuate otherwise is pure bullshit!”

“What’s wrong with snogging me specifically?” James retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Don’t even start! I am not snogging you to prove a point.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” James snapped, jaw tense. This was quickly devolving into a row and that wasn’t his intention, but once the adrenaline began flowing, he couldn’t stop. “I asked what was so bad about the idea of snogging me. Your adamant refusal is offensive! I’m an excellent snog.”

“You can’t judge your own snogging ability!” Sirius retorted.

Regulus suddenly stepped in front of James as if on cue. He reached up and gripped James’s chin to turn his face toward his own. A flash of recognition hit him hard. Just like in the pub. He’s trying to de-escalate.

“My brother does have a point there. Why don’t I judge it for you?” Regulus asked.

James’s mind blanked entirely at the offer. He really wanted to, both to prove his point and to annoy the piss out of Sirius. Not for any other reason, of course. There was definitely no ulterior motive in taking advantage of the opportunity to kiss a fit bloke. Liar.

Peter hooted with laughter. “Excellent idea! Go on, Regulus. Give us a score out of ten!”

“What the fuck?” Sirius yelped, scrambling off of his stool.

Unable to resist, James cradled Regulus’s jaw and leaned in. When their lips met, Regulus’s hand fell from his chin and gripped the open collar of James’s shirt. The cool metal of his rings brushed against James’s overheated skin, making him shiver.

Regulus opened his lips to James’s gentle prodding without hesitation. His tongue swept through Regulus’s mouth, delighted to find him receptive. James swore that time slowed to accommodate their exploration of each other. Everyone else disappeared in an instant, and the only thought in his mind centered around how Regulus tasted like peppermint tea and smelled like summer. Delicious. Refreshing. I need more.

When Regulus stepped closer and pressed his body against James, he felt his world tip sideways. He steadied himself with a hand on Regulus’s hip, completely lost to the unexpected sparks of pleasure that flickered in his belly. James tangled his tongue with Regulus’s leisurely and drew him in, slipping his thumb under Regulus’s shirt and circling the jut of his hip. Gods, his skin is so smooth. I want to taste it.

“Well done, Sirius,” Peter snarked. “Look at what you started.”

Slowly, James pulled back. He became vividly aware of where they were and who was watching, especially when Sirius started cursing in French. He ended the kiss as gently as it started before releasing Regulus. Yeah, I’m screwed.

“Merde,” Regulus whispered, eyes fluttering open to meet James’s gaze for a long moment before Sirius pulled them apart.

“Stop it! This is not the time or the place!” Sirius lectured, dragging Regulus back. He flailed a hand at Pandora. “Where were you? Why didn’t you stop this?”

She shrugged innocently. “Stop what? I didn’t see anything, did you, Lily?” 

Lily didn’t look up from her mobile, but her lips twitched with amusement. “Sorry? What did I miss?”

Chuckling, Peter bounced on his toes. “Regulus? 1-10?”

“Easily an eight, but I’m leaving room for improvement,” Regulus replied, rallying himself enough to wink at James. 

“Are you saying I need practice?” James teased. He was rather enjoying Sirius’s tantrum now that Regulus was playing along. “Or offering to tutor me?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Remus spit out with a startled laugh. He stepped around Sirius and Regulus, who were now in a hushed, half-whispered argument. As he settled his bass on his hip, he shooed the pair away from his side of the stage. “Enough already. Move along.”

Before Sirius lost it completely, Pandora reached out and grabbed Regulus’s hand, pulling him off of the stage. “All right, all right. You go back to your corner and you—“ she pointed at Sirius with a sharp glare “—stop distracting him. He has work to do and you’re disrupting his process.”

“Me?” Sirius spluttered in outrage, then stomped back to his drum kit. He wasted a full five minutes grumbling and tossing glares at James and Peter. 

Peter pointed accusingly, clearly sick of his shit. “Oi. You started this. Now let it go. It was bound to happen anyway.”

Wait, what?

James was either still drowning in dopamine or he’d missed a few steps in this dance. How was his kissing Regulus “bound to happen anyway.” He had no intention of kissing Regulus until mere minutes ago. What is that supposed to mean?

Regulus was not dying, but his body was doing a fine job of pretending otherwise. His pulse thrummed at his temples and heat crawled up his neck into what had to be an intense flush. The kiss was well over ten minutes ago, and yet here he was hyperventilating about it in his small corner of the dusty warehouse.

His mind was trapped in a revolving replay of James’s lips on his, the way he’d tipped Regulus’s head back with the firm pressure of his thumb under his chin. A ghost of that pressure still taunted him even now, and his useless brain refused to focus on anything else. The kiss was electric from the first touch of their lips to the moment James pulled away. Regulus hadn’t wanted to let him go, and had to forcefully convince his hand to release James’s shirt. 

It was so much more than a kiss. That was the entire James Potter experience under the guise of a competitive snog. The brush of his  calloused fingertips circling Regulus’s hip bone was a preview of James’s tendency to tease. The gentle prodding of his tongue against the seam of Regulus’s lips showed a desire to lead. And then, there was the hand he’d cupped around Regulus’s jaw, which was a clear preference for intimacy. Of course, he kisses like the love interest in a romance novel. 

Any hope of surviving this job with his dignity intact were long gone now. He caught himself imagining the pressure of James’s lips on his and wishing he’d trailed further down to his throat and collarbone. Every so often a slight brush of his shirt against his hip reminded him of the curious exploration of James’s hands. He’s ruined me with one delectable kiss.

Regulus knew that one kiss wasn’t likely to lead to anything, but he desperately wanted it to. How was he meant to pretend it wasn’t everything he’d hoped for, and more? This twit was infuriating and kind, lost and in dire need of comfort, pushing him away only to draw him further in. Regulus was only human.

“Do you need to go home?” Pandora asked, settling onto the arm of his sofa. “No offense, but I think you’re spiraling. You’ve barely moved since you sat down. Not that a little panic isn’t unwarranted, but still.”

Regulus scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “He’s in my head, and I don’t want to let him out, but I can’t concentrate.”

“That’s understandable, considering the man you’re crushing on just kissed you. Although that kiss was remarkably sweet, don’t you think? He was so careful with you, which was not at all what I expected from someone as feisty as him. What can I do to help?”

“I need to fuck him senseless. Can you arrange that?” he snarked. Irritation was quickly overpowering the floaty post-kiss haze. 

Pandora snorted derisively. “Absolutely not. I doubt it would help anyway, you’re properly obsessing now.”

“I a m not obsessing. This is a perfectly normal response to having a life-changing kiss from a fit bloke,” Regulus corrected. 

It was true, he wasn’t obsessing. Obsession implied intrusion by definition, and Regulus certainly didn’t intend to force his way into James’s life. Watching from the sidelines was as far as he’d go, unless he was invited closer. In that unlikely event, he would still not be intruding. Therefore, not an obsession. Gods, I can justify anything if given enough time and motivation.

“Why don’t you write about the kiss then?” Pandora suggested, swiping his journal off the table. “Oh, you did, never mind. A melody then, no more words.”

Regulus picked up his guitar and strummed idly on the strings, trying to pick out a chord combination that spoke to him. “It’s not working. Nothing is working.”

“Well, pick up a song you started and just finish it.” She flipped through the journal, then paused on a partial song. “Here, give this one a go.”

“Ugh, fine.”

The song wasn’t much more than a mix of melody and bass line at the moment, and the main vibe of the song was more pop than rock. Plus, he hadn’t found the right lyrics to accompany it yet. There were good bones here though, he decided.

“This will be out of his range,” Regulus said, glancing at the stage pointedly.

Pandora lounged next to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. “So? Write it for yourself. You want to perform in the future, right? Is that still the plan?” 

“Yes, of course.”

“You will need your own songs then.”

She had a point. Up until recently, he’d given up on the idea of performing. With the abrupt shift he’d made in his writing style and after spending time with his brother’s band to prepare for the collaboration’s announcement, his desire to stand on the stage nagged at the back of his mind.

What do I really want? How do I get there?

His thoughts jumbled as he toyed with the melody, flicking between the kiss with James and his past. A good, solid kiss wasn’t the best way to determine a man’s character, he knew that. He’d rediscovered that truth so many times, which was part of why he was taking a break from dating. How often had he been wrong about a man he was seeing? More than I care to admit.

“I’ve been alone for a long while,” he whispered to himself, strumming on his guitar. “No, ‘quite a while’ suits better.”

Making notes as the lines materialized in his brain, Regulus continued to think about the failed relationships, situationships, and everything in between. Talking stages that went nowhere. What a waste of time.

“I thought I knew it all,” he sang softly, nodding as he tapped out the beat with his foot. “That I'd found love, but I was wrong.”

“I like where this is going,” Pandora said, patting his arm.

“So do I.” 

They both turned at the same time, startled to find James leaning against the back of the sofa. He cocked his head to the side and looked them over curiously. “Well? Let’s hear it.”

“I don’t share with the client until it’s finished,” Regulus replied. “It’s a non-negotiable rule. This is more of a warm-up exercise anyway.”

 “Can I offer a suggestion?” James asked. He held up his acoustic as if to show he’d come equipped to illustrate his idea.

Why is basic preparation, the bare minimum he should expect from a client, so sexy on James? Because I didn’t ask? Because he did it anyway?

“Go on,” Regulus said. 

“What if you added a second guitar part? Electric to play with the melody while an acoustic adds arpeggio on top, like this?” James finger-picked each string individually from top to bottom instead of strumming loosely.

Regulus was trying very hard not to scream like an overexcited child at the thought of co-writing with James, and he didn’t appreciate the man’s insistence on being nice to him right now. His thoughts made a mad dash into his pants, rather than provide a response. Doesn’t he understand how intimate this is? Writing together is practically mind-melding.

“It was just a suggestion,” James said, flattening his palm against the strings.

“Don’t stop! I like it.” Without a thought in his head, Regulus nearly launched himself over the back of the sofa. He intended to reach for James, but instead, he tripped on the pillows and collapsed on the cushions. Which was when it hit him.

Oh. My. God. Did I just say that out loud?

James sucked in his cheeks, clearly trying not to laugh, though his eyes were dancing with mischief. It took every ounce of Regulus’s own self-control not to crawl under the coffee table. Pandora was the one who finally broke the charged silence between them, clearing her throat loudly. 

“On that note, I’m going to stand over…there,” she announced, leaving Regulus to die of utter humiliation.

With a deeply amused huff, James turned back toward the stage. “Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it then.” 

Now would be a great time for a chasm to open up on this sofa and swallow me whole.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

All week long, Sirius dropped snide comments about the kiss. Regulus ignored him, but James seemed to be taking it personally. Each time, the cutting remarks deflated his smile on impact.

It was likely that Sirius was simply projecting after James’s comments about his ogling Remus, but the overdramatic big brother routine was getting out of hand. Sirius was the one who initiated the confrontation with James in the first place! Regulus wanted James to watch him, which his brother knew well. What did he expect would happen when he called James out? He was probably hoping that James would say he wasn’t interested in me outright.

The entire situation was ridiculous. Sirius should have minded his own business, except then he wouldn’t be the center of attention at all times. His brother couldn’t have that. 

Regulus began packing up his instruments at the end of a particularly long, frustrating writing session. Every time he thought he was making progress on a new song, James would move into his periphery and distract him. It wasn’t as though James was interrupting his process intentionally, which was almost worse. The bloke hadn’t said more than a few words to him directly, suggesting a song lyric or chord change here and there, but he was constantly there. Like a diabolical paralysis demon, the sound of his voice or his sudden appearance drove every creative thought from Regulus’s mind. 

It’s not fair that he affects me far more than I do to him.

James wasn’t losing his mind every time Regulus glanced his way. Instead, he was so thoroughly unbothered that it made Regulus question if the kiss had actually happened. If it weren’t for his brother’s wheedling comments, he’d have assumed he fantasized it. 

He was three weeks into this project and had very little to show for it. While Regulus collected his notes, he was startled by the door slamming against the brick exterior wall. This tended to happen when the wind caught it, or if someone had thrown it open carelessly, which was often among this lot. Hearing his brother’s voice again, Regulus tried to ignore it.

“Fuck! Sorry! It flies open too bloody easily, and I didn’t know you were on the other side,” Remus said, rushing out. “Are you all right?”

“No! I’m not all right!” Sirius shouted back. “For fuck’s sake! What were they thinking?”

Remus hesitated. “You’re still fussed about the snog? It was a joke, Sirius, and it happened over a week ago. Time to let it go, mate.”

The door swung shut, blocking out his brother’s tantrum. In all honesty, Regulus wasn’t particularly surprised that he was upset. Sirius was never good at sharing his toys when they were younger, and far less willing to share his friends. 

Despite how concerned Remus had looked, Regulus knew better. His brother was working himself up on purpose. Sirius tended to focus on the worst case scenarios and wallow in the imagined horror, just to prepare himself. His coping mechanisms are so weird. 

When the door flew open again, it didn’t slam. It did, however, let in some of Sirius and Remus’s conversation, which had devolved into name calling somehow.

“They did not, you melodramatic cunt.”

“Did you just call me a cunt? ” Sirius snapped.

“If the cunt fits.”

“I’m not a cunt! I don’t even like cunts!”

That sent Remus into a laughing fit. Regulus paused his packing to watch James lean out and talk animatedly with the pair. He couldn’t hear most of their conversation, but he did hear James say “party” and “hot tub.” Oh good, another party I won’t be invited to.

Then Peter joined in, clapping excitedly. “Excellent! I’ll invite the usual crowd and we can pick up supplies on the way.” 

Normally, he wouldn’t care a whit about his client’s plans and activities. He was there to write, not to socialize. This time was different, not only because he fancied James, but because he did want to repair things with Sirius and was beginning to like the band against his will.

Perhaps if he was conspicuously present for the party planning, they would include him. Surely Sirius wasn’t so annoyed that he’d exclude Regulus from a bit of fun. He quickly finished his packing and headed for the car park, waving to Pandora to let her know where he was going. Then, feeling a bit foolish, Regulus peered through the crack in the open door at the band. 

“What does one wear to a hot tub party?” Remus checked, surveying his knit jumper and jeans. “Am I overdressed?”

“Probably,” James replied, shrugging. “I usually end up in a swimsuit most of the night.”

James in a swimsuit? Yes, please. I have to see that.

Sirius pinched off the end of his cigarette and flicked the cherry away. He tossed the butt in the bin and leaned against the brick. “Do you need to stop at home, Remus? To drop off your bass, or change?”

Remus frowned. “That would be awfully inconvenient for the rest of you. My flat’s on the other side of town.”

“We could split up?” Sirius suggested. “James and Peter can secure the snacks, and I’ll drive Remus home to change and stash his bass?”

James nodded, holding out his keys. “Good plan. Here, you take the van then. Peter and I can walk it, I’m sure.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—“ Remus interjected.

“The plan is already in motion! Keep up, Remus!” Sirius called out, grabbing the keys from James. He hooked an arm through Remus’s and dragged him toward the band’s van. “You’ll even have the front seat!”

“Grand,” Remus replied, rolling his eyes.

Sirius huffed. “Your enthusiasm needs some work.”

“Grand!” Remus shouted, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

The wind grabbed the door, slamming against the wall again, as Regulus walked out. He winced, hurriedly closing it and hoping no one noticed. When he turned around, James eagerly approached with a beaming grin. Don’t point that at me, I’m already weak.

“We’re having a party at ours tonight, can you come? Bring Pandora too, if you want,” James said.

Regulus glanced toward the van, relieved to see his brother was out of sight. If James was inviting him unprompted, that was a good sign. Right? 

“All right, I’ll come over. What’s the address?” Regulus asked. His attempt at acting casual was not very convincing, but James didn’t seem to notice.

James leaned closer and held out his mobile. “Give me your number and I’ll text it to you.”

Regulus did, noting that everyone else on the contact list had an emoji beside their name. It was kind of sweet to see what James had given each person. A quick scroll through his contacts revealed that his mum had the heart hands emoji, Sirius had the twinkling stars, Peter had a mouse, and Remus had a moon. Will he give me one too?

“Oi! Stop flirting!” Sirius suddenly called out, jogging back across the car park. 

“Shut it. I’m inviting Regulus to our party,” James retorted, waving dismissively. “He wanted to ‘bond with the band,’ remember? What better way than at our flat?”

Sirius glared at him. “You invited my little brother to a hot tub party? Are you mad?”

“Hot tub party?” Regulus repeated innocently, eyeing James’s wry grin. This is going to be fun. Sirius will definitely lose his shit. “I must have missed that part.” 

James shrugged. “A party is a party. We also happen to have a hot tub at the flat.”

“That sounds fun,” Regulus replied, unable to hide a smug grin. His gaze skimmed over James with interest, already picturing him in a swimsuit. “Why would you leave that part out of the invitation?” 

“No, no, no! There will be no frolicking in the hot tub!” Sirius argued, flailing his hands at both of them. “Only one of you can be in it at a time.”

Regulus arched an eyebrow at him. “Sirius, kindly piss off and mind your own.”

“Absolutely not. This is a terrible idea and I have a list of reasons why—”

Just then, Remus rolled down the window of the van and popped his head out. “Sirius! No distractions. Put the guitar in the van and let’s go!”

“I already put my guitar in the van!” James yelled back. 

Holding his hands up, Remus shrugged. “It’s not here now.”

“What? Where is it?”

Peter pushed open the door. “Here it is, James. Sirius hid it in the loo.”

James held the guitar case when he spun back around, fury scalding his face. He shoved Sirius’s shoulder hard and scowled. “What the fuck, Sirius? It could have been stolen!”

“No, it wouldn’t. I was going to text you as soon as we left. That way you had to carry it around, just like I have to carry the burden of that awful mental image you two created,” Sirius snarked back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Besides, Remus insisted I come back for it, so the fun was ruined before it even began.”

Shock, horror, and anger battled for control of James’s expression. It would have been comical to watch if it was anyone else. The waves of heat bursting from his skin were warning enough of the impending explosion. James was on the precipice of a Vesuvian-level eruption and his brother couldn’t manage more than gawking at him incredulously. At least step aside to avoid the lava.

According to Peter, James usually loved a good practical joke. He’d said James was as invested in the nonsense as Sirius was in uni, taking them to wild and elaborate heights. It obviously had never occurred to Sirius that James wouldn’t see the humor in this one. No harm, no foul. Just a bit of fun.

Except, it’s his guitar! I would have gutted Sirius for touching mine.

James inhaled deeply in preparation for what was likely the dressing down of the century. Sirius cringed, finally backing up. Taking pity on him, Regulus stepped forward. He gripped James’s chin and pulled him into an intense snog. James’s hands flailed momentarily before landing on Regulus’s waist. Good reflexes on this one. Keep that up.

“Oh come on!” Sirius huffed.

Peter scoffed, “He just saved your arse! Take the guitar and go, you twat!”

“Oh. Fair play, Reggie.” 

Regulus ignored him, burying his hands in James’s curls and deepening the kiss. Unlike the last time, this wasn’t experimental, it was purposeful. James needed to channel his adrenaline away from his anger, and Regulus would happily take it instead.

Feed me your fire, and I’ll make it mine. 

Air was overrated anyway. He didn’t really need it. Not when the alternative was Regulus snogging the life out of him. Especially when the alternative was Regulus snogging the life out of him.

James wrapped his hands around Regulus’s waist and tried to keep himself upright. The dizzying effect that this gorgeous bloke’s lips and tongue were having on his mind may have concerned him, if he had any concept of time and space and reality at the moment. Given the sheer volume of synapses currently firing in his brain, James was surprised he was still corporeal. 

Regulus’s hands gentled against his skin, one smoothing down his neck and then burying itself in his hair. The other angled his face slightly before splaying under his jaw. The pad of his thumb brushed soothingly over his cheek. It was impossible to resist kissing him back when he was lighting a flurry of fires through James’s body. 

There was a part of his mind that recognized how stupid this was, but brain things were hard right now. He’d much rather embrace the pleasure of a heady snog first, then sort out the details later. Seemed only fair to his befuddled mind.

“All right, all right,” Peter huffed, shoving James’s shoulder. “Breathe already.”

As Regulus pulled back, James chased his lips eagerly, desperate for more of the euphoric feeling. Generous bloke that he was, Regulus kissed him again. Just a brief, gentle kiss to soothe the overwhelming wave of reality that crashed into James as they separated. 

His chest heaved with the sudden influx of air and he stumbled a bit when he stepped back. James planted a hand on the wall and let his brain catch up with the world around him. Everything happened far too quickly and he was reeling internally. 

Regulus stood in front of him, both hands pressed against his chest as he studied James’s face. He appeared to be waiting for something. A reaction? A question? A primordial battle cry? 

James was completely mystified. There was nothing left to be said, asked, or shouted. Regulus clearly fancied him and had sorted out that James fancied him back. That didn’t change how incredibly ridiculous the idea of pursuing him was though. 

This was not only his best friend’s brother, which should be reason enough to leave it, but also his contracted co-worker…of sorts. The pure stupidity of even considering a fling with Regulus was absurd. He didn’t need this to come back to haunt him later. Regulus was well-connected and had a platform to boot. If things fell apart, he could destroy the band with very little effort. Not that James expected he would, it was simply a terrifying prospect.

“What was that for?” he breathed out, his brain slowly coming back online. 

A slow smile spread across Regulus’s face. He patted James’s chest with one hand, his eyes fucking sparkling with humor. “To stop you from saying something you’d regret later…and because I wanted to.”

James blinked rapidly, still trying to process both parts of that sentence when the incident with Sirius flashed into his mind. The fury that nearly exploded at his best friend over a silly prank. Reckless as it was, that’s what it amounted to in the end. Sirius hid his guitar so that he’d have to carry it through town. It was a minor act of revenge for snogging his brother. He should have expected it, really. 

“Right, Sirius,” James mumbled, rucking up his curls in frustration. He’d overreacted, and now he owed his best friend an apology for it. 

“Sirius. While he is obnoxious, he didn’t deserve the full weight of your wrath just then.” Gently, Regulus reached up and loosened James’s hold on his hair. “I’m sure he will understand though, he always does.”

James reeled back, as shocked by how easily he’d lost control as he was by the idea that Sirius was used to it. That wasn’t him. James wasn’t a hot-head that shouted at people. Especially not at Sirius, who was still half-traumatized from an abusive childhood. Nausea roiled his stomach at the thought. 

“I don’t know what happened,” he admitted, stepping back. 

As Regulus’s hands fell to his sides, the smile faltered. He cleared his throat, then met James’s eyes with fierce determination. “It’s all right, James. You don’t have to explain—”

“I should go. This is a terrible idea,” James said, chuckling derisively. swiveling on his heel, he tried to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. 

The wind fought his escape, as if it was pushing him back to meet Regulus head-on. James ran faster, passing a few buildings before faltering. I can’t do this. He’s off-limits. It would ruin everything.

Sirius’s reaction to their first kiss spoke volumes. He hated the idea of the two of them being together and would actively fight against it. James didn’t want to lose his best friend. He couldn’t lose Sirius. I’m fucking it all up again. First the pub fight and now this.

The thought wrenched the air from his lungs and he buckled mid-stride, nearly face-planting into the pavement. Appearing at his side, Peter grabbed his elbow and shoved him sideways into an alley between a pub and a bakery. Every heaving breath was filled with fresh-baked bread and hops, a mockery of his suffering. As he tripped over the scattered beer bottles littering the pavement, James reached for the brick wall to steady himself.

“What the fuck was that?” Peter demanded, propping his hands on his hips. “Regulus snapped you out of that tantrum before you said something awful, and you treated him like shit for it.”

“You don’t…understand,” James gasped. He lifted his head to the sky and gulped down air. “I can’t. Not…Not with him. Not now. It’s…I can’t.”

“You can’t do what?”

James inhaled deeply and stepped back, kicking one of the bottles down the alley. It crashed into the wall, the glass shattering on contact. “I would be a fool…to let him in. He will tear me to shreds, I-I can feel it. Too much, too fast.”

Pinning him with an unimpressed glare, Peter’s voice was unusually sharp with reproach. “What a coward.”

James’s blood boiled in his veins at the accusation. He booted another bottle down the alley and watched it splinter when it collided with a stack of crates. That was bullshit! He was doing the right thing.

“You’re one to talk,” James muttered under his breath, then immediately regretted it. 

“I am, actually!” Peter shouted, pushing him against the wall. He pointed at James, finger stabbing his chest. “I’ve known you for nearly a decade! This moody git routine is getting old, fast. Either see a therapist or shag the fuck out of Regulus, I don’t really care which one. You need to sort yourself out, and those seem like the best options at the moment.”

Peter started to spin away, then redirected. “Besides, if the coward is calling you a coward, that’s saying something.”

“What? How can you possibly think that’s an option?” James refuted, rubbing his chest. “He’s Sirius’s bloody brother and a pseudo celebrity. We’re supposed to be on our best behavior, and he…he works for us! In what world is that a good idea?”

“I don’t give two shits what world it is. You need someone to pull your head out of your arse, and he seems to be the only one making any progress on that front.”

“I’m stressed!” James defended, throwing his hands out. “That’s all that this is. There’s a lot riding on this collaboration!”

“What better way to relieve stress than to shag through it?” Peter countered, swatting at him. “He’s clearly interested, as are you, so what’s the issue?”

James pushed off of the wall and began pacing across the narrow alley, rotating a full 180 degrees every four steps. “Don’t be stupid. Of course I fancy him, he’s fucking art. That’s not the problem. The issue is who he is, Peter! It’s not that simple, is it?”

“It really is that simple. You’re overthinking this, mate,” Peter insisted. “He could help you work through whatever is triggering this anger. It certainly doesn’t phase him to confront it.”

“That’s not the point!” James’s frustration hadn’t eased a whit and was growing by the second, fury radiating from every pore. He was angry at himself for losing control and angry at Peter for calling him on it. Why can’t everyone just leave me alone?

“What is the point? You haven’t given a single viable reason here! He’s fit, gives a shit, and wants to help. It’s either pure cowardice, or fear holding you back,” Peter declared, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sirius is worried about you. I’m worried about you. Fuck, Remus has been here three weeks and he’s worried about you!”

“Then stop! I didn’t ask for this!” James whirled around and slammed his fist into the wall, sending a cloud of dust flying through the air. The resounding crunch was sickening and his hand stung as he pulled it back. Staring down at the bloody knuckles and the slowly forming bruises, James frowned. He wavered side to side as his brain melted down.

Why did I do that? What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Fuck off!” Peter yelped, ducking and covering his head with his hands. 

“James!” 

Footsteps pounded down the pavement. Regulus’s lean figure flew past the alley before quickly backtracking to find them. He burst into the small space and reached for James, pulling him forcefully into his arms as he sank to the ground. Regulus slowed his fall, landing hard on the concrete. A startled huff brushed past James’s ear as Regulus held onto his head and shoulders. 

“Fuck, you’re heavy.” Regulus brushed James’s hair back from his face. “Breathe. Slow, steady breaths,” he instructed, his thumb stroking James’s cheek. “That’s it. Nice and easy. It’s all right.”

James shuddered as the panic flowed through him. Shame washed over him as the realization set in, he’d nearly hit Peter and was on the verge of sobbing like a child. Turning toward Regulus, and buried his face in the bloke’s chest. He needed this. Someone to hold him and offer the comfort he so desperately needed.

Regulus tightened his hold on James, his hands splaying over his back protectively. “You’re safe now,” he whispered. “Just take deep breaths and try to relax.”

James tried to breathe, but found himself choking on a sob instead. It felt like Regulus had reached in his chest and cradled his fragile heart in the palms of his hands. The sharp sting of tears burned his eyes as he fought them back. 

“Is he okay?” Peter said softly, his shoes crunching amid the rubble on the ground.

“He will be,” Regulus replied. His voice was firm and unwavering, a comfort in itself.

Peter sighed. “He lost control again and punched the wall next to my head.”

Again. Again. Again-again-again-again.

“Which hand?” Regulus asked, one hand smoothing down his arm. 

“Right,” Peter answered.

Regulus leaned back to examine the hand gripping his shirt like a lifeline. “That’s not…great. I think it’s broken.”

“Very likely. It sounded awful.”

Regulus lifted up slightly and pulled his mobile from his pocket. “Pandora? Yes, I’m fine. Bring the car down the block to the alley between…”

“Daniel’s pub and the bakery,” Peter supplied. 

Regulus repeated the instructions, then sighed. “No. It’s fine. We need to get James home. He’s hurt.”

“On my way!” Pandora’s voice burst through the speaker before she hung up the phone. 

James barely remembered the trip home. He was quickly shuttled into a vehicle that he’d never seen, and before he knew it, the four of them were climbing out of a posh black sedan and walking into the flat. Pandora had remained up front, but the moment the car drove away, she stomped into the flat and began shouting orders. 

“First, we address that hand. Where is the first aid kit, Peter?” Pandora asked, flipping open cupboards in the kitchen.

“I’ll get it!” he volunteered, running down the hall.

Regulus insisted on helping James into bed, then climbed in after him. He couldn’t find the energy to protest when the bloke just sat beside him, speaking in a low, soothing tone. It was nice to be coddled like this, even if he didn’t deserve it. 

When Peter returned with the first aid kit, Pandora followed him inside. James felt her judgemental stare boring into his head, but he refused to meet her eyes. The internal chastisement he had on repeat was enough. He hated this, hated himself for losing control. James was meant to keep everyone else together, not fall apart over a minor row. 

“Thank you, Peter,” Regulus said, taking the first aid kit and digging through it. “I’ll bandage it up for now, but we should really have it looked at.”

“How does your hand feel, James?” Peter asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

James rolled over to look at him. “Like an idiot who punched a brick wall.”

Peter grinned, “Serves you right.”

“Sorry, Pete. I lost my—“

“S’all right, mate. We all have shit days and I did call you a coward. Probably was asking for it,” Peter replied, shrugging lightly.

Horrified, James shook his head. “No, it’s not your fault. I couldn’t keep it together.”

Regulus pulled his hand into his lap. James tensed at first, all too aware of how close his hand was to an area he shouldn’t be thinking about. Especially in his room, in his bed. Especially with a busted hand after throwing a fit. Gods, I’m pathetic.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillows. James knew he was screwed when even breaking his hand didn’t distract him from Regulus.

“Why did you call him a coward?” Pandora asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Peter snorted a laugh. “Because he won’t—“

“That’s enough, Peter,” Regulus interrupted, pinning him with an intense look. “It’s none of our business, Pandora.”

James winced hard. Regulus either heard the argument, and already knew, or was attempting to preserve his dignity. He wasn’t sure which was worse. Any shred of dignity he’d had long evaporated the moment he took a swing at one of his best friends.

Pandora huffed, then pulled out her mobile. “Well, he will probably be out of commission for a while. I better update Lily.”

“Fuck,” James muttered under his breath, imagining the fury on her face when she found out. He’d avoided a lecture from Pandora, but Lily was another story.

Regulus’s hands stilled. “Did that hurt?”

“No, it’s fine,” James replied, sighing heavily. It was true. Regulus’s gentle administration barely registered amid the stinging pain of his scraped knuckles.

“Should we cancel the party?” Peter asked suddenly, jumping to his feet and digging out his own mobile.

Regulus shifted on the bed, turning toward James. He could feel his gaze searching his face intently. James couldn’t meet it. Not after what he did. Even if this wasn’t a disaster waiting to happen, he hardly deserved a reward for acting like a lunatic.

“James? Do you want Peter to cancel the party?”

“No need to cancel just because I lost my shit,” James replied reluctantly. He really didn’t want to deal with everyone’s questions right now, but he wasn’t willing to ruin their fun either.

Peter patted his leg. “All right, mate. Why don’t you go soak in the hot tub for a while? Relax, yeah?”

“That’s a good idea,” Regulus agreed, still focused on James’s hand. “This looks worse than it is. I’m pretty sure this isn’t broken, just badly bruised. You should still rest it for a few days though.”

“Can’t do that. We have a gig tomorrow,” James refuted, rubbing his good hand over his face. “I can hold a pick with busted knuckles.”

“Oh? Is this a common occurrence then? Have a lot of practice playing after punching a wall?” The sarcasm was heavy in Regulus’s voice.

Peter dissolved into giggles, flailing his hands. “No! He isn’t a complete arsehole, I swear! Though he did punch that slime ball Snape and then play a full set.”

“He had it coming,” James huffed. “Greasy prick.”

“True! That was entirely justified. If anything, you were kind enough to rearrange his ugly face.”

Pandora rolled her eyes. “Oh good, he’s not just hot-headed, he’s violent. Still think he’s worth it, Regulus?” 

James felt all of the air whoosh out of his chest. A cold shiver raised bumps over his skin, making his body tense. That’s how she saw him, hot-headed and violent. Was he violent? Fuck.

“Pandora, leave it,” Regulus warned, his voice sharp with reproach.

“Fine,” she snapped, spinning on her heel to leave the room.

Peter hesitated, glancing between the two. Finally, he shrugged, “I’ll go start up the hot tub.” 

As soon as he’d left the room, Regulus placed James’s hand on the bed. He patted James’s leg and stood up. “I’ll leave so you can change. A long soak will make you feel better.”

“I’m not worth it.” End this before I get hurt again.

“Pardon?” he replied, pausing abruptly.

James rolled onto his back and flexed his hand in front of his face, eyeing the bandages covering his knuckles. “In case you were wondering. I’m not worth the effort,” he repeated. “So don’t waste your time.”

Regulus stared at him, one eyebrow slowly and deliberately sliding up his forehead. He didn’t say a word, leaving James to interpret the action as sincere disbelief. Maybe it was better this way. Whatever this chemistry was between them would never go anywhere, even if he kind of wanted to see what would happen if it did. Unless, Regulus never intended it to.

“Or I’ve assumed too much…” James trailed off, pushing himself upright. “I shouldn’t have, never mind.”

In the tense silence that followed, James’s brain whirled in an attempt to fill it. He didn’t understand why Regulus wasn’t speaking. Just staring at him like he’d lost his mind was not an answer and in no way cleared things up. This was a mistake. All of it. 

He knew better than to think there was more to it. Now he was just making a fool of himself assuming the Regulus wanted anything real. This was the point though. Overthinking and reaching all the wrong conclusions was James to the core. Nothing went the way he expected and no one reacted like he thought they should.

James dropped his gaze to the quilt and traced over the stitching with his finger. The longer the silence continued, the less sure he was that Regulus was even remotely interested. Perhaps he was just flirty by nature and James saw what he wanted to see. If the snogging was nothing at all, he’d really just exposed himself. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“If you ever say that again, I will slit your fucking throat.”

Head snapping up in shock, James’s eyes widened as he took in the intensity of the glare Regulus aimed at him. He swallowed hard and touched his neck self-consciously. The threat was the last thing he expected Regulus to say, but somehow exactly what he needed to hear. 

“What?”

“You heard me.” Regulus stood his ground, halfway between the bed and the door. 

Why the fuck is that so hot?

Regulus clenched his fists at his sides and forcefully reminded himself that murdering James would not prove his point. If anything, that was likely to disprove it, which was unacceptable. He dares to push me away now? Not happening.

James eyed him warily, as he should. With the shit he’d just pulled, James had every reason to watch his next step. Regulus’s temper may not be as loud or brash as his, but it was far more lethal. 

When he told James that he was “safe” and that he’d be “okay,” those weren’t throw-away platitudes. He meant it. It wasn’t easy for Regulus to offer comfort like that. All of this was new to him, and he was trying his best goddamn it!

Regulus told Sirius that he could handle it. He would figure out how to help James, and he intended to see that mission through, whether James liked it or not. Whether James liked him or not, Regulus didn’t give up on lost causes, he collected them. Barty, Evan, Pandora, and Dorcas had all reached this same point at one time or another, and he’d clung to them until they worked through it.

More than anything, Regulus wanted to wash those foul words out James’s mouth. How dare he say he wasn’t worth the effort? As if Regulus’s concern for him was wasted , and that he had agonized over James for no reason.

He’s making me a liar! No one gets to tell me who is worthy of my time and energy. I decide for myself. 

“Thank fuck you’re here!” Peter exclaimed, dragging Sirius into the bedroom. “James has gone off it and I think Regulus followed him over the edge.”

“Whoa! What’s going on?” Sirius intervened, jerking forward. Pressing his hands against Regulus’s chest, he slowly pushed him toward the door. “Hey, talk to me. What’s—”

“I mean it,” Regulus tossed over Sirius’s shoulder, his glare still trained on James. “Do not test me. I will not hesitate.” 

Sirius glanced back at James. “What did you do?”

That’s when Sirius caught sight of the bandage on James’s hand. He released Regulus and surged toward the bed, eyes wide. “You hurt your hand? What the fuck is going on here?” he demanded, flailing at James’s face. “Someone talk. Now!”

Peter peered in the door tentatively, evaluating the situation before slipping inside. “We got into a row and James punched a brick wall. Regulus and Pandora brought us home. She left to pick up the drinks.”

“You punched a wall?” Sirius gasped, reaching out to grip James’s chin. “Have you lost your bloody mind?” 

James looked away, pulling his chin from Sirius’s grasp. A wash of shame covered his features, but he didn’t say a word. Now you keep your mouth shut? 

“Regulus? Why are you threatening him?” Sirius asked, spinning to face him again. 

Regulus continued to glare at James with unblinking fury. “He knows what he did,” he spat out. “And if he values his life, he won’t do it again.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Peter groused, grabbing Regulus’s arm and pulling him toward the door. “You Blacks are such dramatic gits. James said he wasn’t worth the effort, and Regulus threatened to slit his throat for saying it.”

Sirius pressed his lips together, clearly trying to suppress the urge to laugh like the prick he was. It was entirely on brand for his older brother to make an equally idiotic statement, after all. Similarly, Regulus had thrown his same threat in his brother’s direction more than once.

“Grand,” Sirius said, exchanging places with Peter and waving him toward James. “You deal with this arsehole, I’ll handle the drama queen.” 

Regulus huffed. “I’m the drama queen?”

“Leave it, Reggie. I’ll make you a drink and you can bring that attitude down a notch…or ten.”

Quickly making his way out of the room, Sirius led the way to the kitchen. While he set to making drinks, Regulus wandered the room listlessly opening and closing cabinets. It was probably a trauma response of sorts, but when he was overwhelmed, Regulus reorganized things in an attempt to regain control of himself and his environment. Unfortunately for him, Sirius did the same thing, so the cupboards were already in order.

“You good?” Sirius asked, walking up behind him. 

“I have an unreasonable urge to tie him up and forcibly feed him compliments until he explodes,” Regulus grumbled, reaching for the last cupboard. “Why are these so neat already?”

Sirius grinned into his shoulder. “I had a row with Remus last week.”

“Ah, that explains it.”

“I’m going to recommend against the restraints. He’s stronger than you,” Sirius pointed out, chuckling lightly. 

Regulus scowled. “I doubt you wanted to know this, but I’m fairly adept at knots. Haven’t had a bloke escape yet.”

Sirius groaned. “Too soon, Reggie. I’m still settling my stomach after that disturbing display of PDA.”

“Prat.”

“Slag.”

“You’re one to talk,” Regulus retorted, shaking his head. “How did it go with Remus?”

“Not great,” he admitted. “He has a kid…named Teddy.”

Regulus’s head snapped to the side. “Our Teddy?”

“Our Teddy,” Sirius confirmed. “And he told James and Peter about him, but not me. I had to find out from a framed photo in his flat.”

“Merde, c'est une folle coïncidence," Regulus breathed out, shaking his head. “Tonks?”

Sirius nodded slowly, “Oui. Ils sont sortis ensemble y a quelques années.. Teddy était inattendu."

“Très ‘toujours pur’ de toi, Sirius” (Very ‘always pure’ of you, Sirius), Regulus replied, a smug grin spreading over his face. 

“Dit l'homme qui désire mon ami," Sirius snarked, rolling his eyes. 

Remus cleared his throat, watching the pair of them from the doorway. The wide-eyed apprehension on his face would have been amusing on any other day. He rucked his curls up and spun around on his heel, leaving the room as abruptly as he’d entered.

Regulus huffed a laugh. “Parle-t-il français?” 

“No idea.”

Eyeing the retreating back of the bass player, Regulus tapped his fingers to his lips. This was a rare opportunity to get Remus alone. Peter was keeping an eye on James, and Sirius was itching to return to the bedroom. It was worth a shot. A little misdirection first though.

“When I finish this, I’ll tell James off for—” Regulus began.

“No, you won’t,” Sirius interrupted, jumping in front of him. “I need to talk to him first, and attempt to explain why you made a threat on his life.”

Regulus scowled. “My threat was entirely valid. That prat sobbed into my shirt, Sirius! Do you see the stains on the silk? He allowed me to comfort and soothe him, then thought I’d let him push me away like a pest? As if it meant nothing!”

“That’s not…” Sirius started to argue, then stopped. “Wait. He cried? James, my James, actually cried?”

“Yes! Look! These are his dried tears.” Regulus swept a hand across his chest. “Thankfully, Pandora keeps extra clothes for me in her bag.”

Sirius brushed his fingertips over the stains. “All right, Reggie. I’ll admit it, I’m impressed.”

Regulus swatted his hand away, annoyed by his brother’s insistence in touching him. “Because I made him cry? That’s not new, it’s an innate talent.”

“James doesn’t let anyone see him cry.”

“So? Neither do I.” Regulus brushed a piece of fluff off of his shoulder, as if it mattered. His shirt was already ruined. 

Sirius aimed a pointed glare at him. “Yeah, but you’re emotionally stunted. James isn’t. He’s too busy taking care of everyone else and refuses to admit he has problems too.”

“That’s not my point, Sirius. Like you said, he doesn’t let anyone see him cry. Yet, he came to me for sympathy, and I gave it to him. It means something. ”

“You’re making quite a leap there,” Sirius replied. “He just needs to talk it out.”

Regulus didn’t see any reason to force James into talking. Unlike his brother, he understood the desire to keep thoughts to himself until he was ready to address it. James didn’t owe him full transparency. Neither did his friends. Then again, I don’t want to know what’s in their heads anyway.

“It sounds like you expect his recovery to be perfect,” Regulus said. “Why is he not bouncing back according to your whims? Depression is messy, Sirius, and everyone’s experience is different. You know that better than anyone.”

“What?! No! I don’t–that’s not what I meant…no. No.” 

Sirius shook his head vigorously, his long hair falling loose around his face in a mess of waves. His brother thrived on creating chaos, especially visually. Anything to destroy the image their parents created of him, which impressed Regulus more than he’d ever admit.

“Then, why do you expect him to return to normal before he’s ready? If it’s that easy, why haven’t you helped him?” Regulus asked, unable to hide his disdain. It’s far easier to fall into this familiar antagonism with Sirius than show vulnerability. “Why do you think he hides his pain from you, and not me?”

His brother inhaled sharply and stumbled back a few steps. Anger was kindled low and hot in his eyes. “Fuck off. You don’t know him like I do. Don’t you dare pretend–”

Regulus waved a hand at him dismissively. “I know, I know, Sirius. He’s your left arm or whatever.”

“Technically—”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear whatever codependent, sycophantic babble that is about to come out of your mouth. Tell me why he’s hiding it. Terribly hiding it, but still,” Regulus insisted. “Why trust me? Because I'm not trying to fix him like the rest of you? I want to shake him out of this weird funk he’s fallen into, but he doesn’t have to be ‘over it’ to feel more like himself.”

Sirius huffed, brows furrowed and tongue poked into his cheek. He was still in defense mode, and Regulus braced himself for his brother’s retaliation. “You may not like my answer, Reggie, but honestly? Your opinion of him doesn’t really matter. He doesn’t care what you think, and probably assumes that you’ve judged him harshly already because you’re a cunt.”

Regulus was almost relieved his brother hadn’t been cruel about it. There was a time when Sirius would have tossed that comment in his face gleefully instead cushioning it with a thoughtful expression. Sirius thought it was easier for James to expose his emotions to someone he didn’t care about. Regulus was a blank page in a notebook that James could throw away, a temporary and unimportant glitch in his life… disposable. Deflating a little, Regulus sipped his wine. 

Here I was hoping that I’d actually reached him when the others couldn’t. We’re not friends, obviously, but does he really think so little of me?

When Sirius left to check on James, Remus returned from wherever he had gone to hide. Regulus was waiting for him. He wanted to know Remus’s thoughts on James, and hopefully dissuade him from engaging in this pseudo-competition for James’s attention. It was better for all involved if he clarified the situation now. 

“So, you have a thing for the French?” Regulus asked, launching a charm offensive. It was not a question, since he’d seen the way Remus’s neck flushed when he walked away. “Is it the language, or the people that appeal to you?”

Remus grimaced. “I didn’t say that I had a thing for the French.”

“Your body spoke without permission then.”

“It’s not a thing. I just like the language,” Remus said defensively. He plopped into a chair at the small kitchen table, his long legs sticking out from underneath. “Why do you care?”

Regulus sipped his drink and contemplated the man. When they were first introduced, he hadn’t seen anything particularly special about Remus. He was the dictionary definition of “plain” and “ordinary.” When Remus bothered to dress properly, he looked like a middle-aged school teacher or professor. His sports coat screamed literature nerd! 

“I have been known to slip French phrases into the song. English has borrowed so many of them, you see. The message wouldn’t be lost if I said ‘au contraire’ or ‘faux pas,’ now would it? But, if you have difficulty functioning with a bit of French in the songs…” Regulus trailed off meaningfully, watching Remus over the lip of his cup.

The full body shiver that rocketed through Remus nearly made Regulus choke. He laughed, then quickly muffled the sound. “Well, I suppose that answers my question.”

“No! That’s not…well, it is, but…but don’t tell your brother,” Remus insisted. 

Asking for a favor already? That seems like the opening I need.

“Understood. Moving on then, may I ask you about James?” Regulus softened his voice for effect, hoping to draw Remus in just a little. “He’s a fascinating person, and I can’t get a good read on him. Sirius should know him better than anyone, but he won’t tell me anything useful.”

Remus chewed the inside of his lip pensively before answering. “I don’t know him well. Like I told you on the first day, I just started with the band.”

“Yes, you did mention that,” Regulus agreed amiably, “but he listens to you. The two of you seem to get on well, and I need to establish a better rapport with him as the lead singer. Any suggestions?”

“Well, you’ve kissed him…twice. I haven’t.” Remus didn’t look particularly pleased by that, which suited Regulus just fine. He didn’t need Remus to like him, just to work with him. 

Regulus tipped his head side to side in vague acknowledgement. “One was a dare, so it doesn’t really count, and the other was a distraction technique.”

“Still.”

“Do you fancy him too then?” Regulus asked, taking a sip of his drink. If Remus was insistent on giving him nothing voluntarily, he’d have to push a little.

Remus scoffed, “Would it matter? I’m clearly not his type.”

“Do you know his type then? Have you discussed it with him?”

“No.”

Stubborn git refuses to concede anything. He’s perfect for my brother. They’d drive each other mad.

Lily walked in just then and asked several rapid-fire questions about the “incident.” After explaining, Regulus wandered the rest of the flat with her on a brief tour that no one else bothered to offer him. It was useful to know where the loo was, but the only room he wanted to see was James’s, and he doubted that he was welcome back there after his tantrum.

When Pandora handed him a swimsuit to change into, Regulus quickly ducked into the loo to change. On his way out, James walked right past him without a word, and his suspicion was confirmed. He’d pushed too hard. James didn’t want his comfort or his criticism now. 

Don’t get attached. Pandora’s warning rang out in his head over and over again. 

Regulus had never been accused of being an optimist, and he wasn’t normally this foolish. Did he really think he could win James over with a kiss and a show of compassion? Especially when he was clearly still hung up on his ex. I still don’t know what he wants, but Lily would. Right?

Thankfully, Lily was delighted to chat him up as she helped Peter set up the drinks and snacks in the kitchen. She and Mary had picked them up instead of Peter, so there was actually a proper spread of food. 

“What do you want to know?” Lily asked, eyeing him curiously.

Regulus poured himself another drink and settled onto a stool by the counter. “Am I wasting my time trying to reach James? Is he even interested, I mean?”

She glanced at Peter, then shrugged. “I can’t tell you what he’s thinking. Based on my observations today, I’d guess that he’s interested, but he’s conflicted about it.” 

“James is conflicted about everything,” Peter muttered as he peered into the refrigerator. “He turned into a right nutter since you broke it off, Lils. Always was a sore loser.”

Lily let out a derisive laugh, then sighed as if chastising herself for the momentary lapse in her composure. “He thrives on competition, that’s true, but what he’s going through now is about more than that. James couldn’t fix us and that gores him to the core. It doesn’t compute in his head, I suppose. I suspect he’s never been dumped before, and it was always him who decided to break things off. Or, he’s struggling to accept our break-up because he can’t figure out what he did to deserve this. I know he believes in karma.”

Regulus eyebrows shot up. “He’s never been dumped? How is that possible?”

“He won’t talk about past relationships,” Lily replied. “So, it’s just a theory.”

“Wait, you think James is a control freak?” Peter asked, frowning. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“No, it’s not about control so much as it is about blame. He feels responsible, but can’t pin down the mistake he made. Perhaps it’s simply guilt.” Lily poured several shots of rum and downed one herself. “I’m not sure why, but he’s a bit obsessed with guilt and personal responsibility.”

Regulus nodded slowly. “That tracks.”

“Yep,” Lily said, pointing a bottle of wine at him. “Thoughts on Sangria?”

“Yes, please.”

“Personal responsibility, now that sounds like him,” Peter agreed, filling a pitcher with cut fruit. “Or rather, like his parents. I suppose the guilt tracks too, but the intense focus on it doesn’t. He’s always been so cheerful and eager to please, even when it’s obvious that he feels like shit. The explosive anger with little provocation is my concern. That is new.”

Lily shrugged. “He’s passionate.”

Regulus tapped his fingers on his glass, swirling the gin and juice slowly. The more he learned about James, the more invested he was in sorting the bloke out. He always enjoyed puzzles and trick questions as a child, but James was proving to be a complicated calculation.

Twice now, he’d seen James run away when he was overwhelmed. From what he’d heard from Sirius, James thrived off of confrontation. What changed? Had the angry sex messed with his head? What I wouldn’t give to see him try that on me.

James was lost in his own head when Sirius slumped against the doorway of his bedroom and crossed his arms over his chest. His best friend eyed him narrowly, then scoffed. It was a particularly harsh sound that made him wince. 

“Tell you what. I’ll start,” Sirius said. “That way you can gather your thoughts and come up with a better explanation for this idiocy.”

James swung his legs off the side of the bed and faced him head on. “Go on.”

“Found out Remus has a kid,” Sirius snarked, rocking side to side. “And everyone knew about it, except me. Real punch in the gut that was, I have to tell you.”

Inhaling sharply, James rubbed at his chest with his uninjured hand. He wasn’t expecting this to come up so soon. Remus must have said something when they went to his flat.

“It wasn’t mine to share,” he said quietly. “I told him that you and Peter could be trusted with it.”

“Well, apparently he agreed with half of that.” Sirius began pacing across the room, taking five long strides before spinning around and repeating it. “Did you know it was Teddy? That Remus is Teddy’s…”

“Your Teddy? No. He said the kid’s mum was younger and Andy’s—”

“Andy isn’t Teddy’s mum, James. Andy is Teddy’s grandmother,” Sirius corrected, swiveling to face him. “Tonks is Teddy’s mum.”

James’s eyes widened. “They are? Remus never said the mum’s name. I’d have recognized it.”

“Well, that’s just lovely, isn’t it?” Sirius said, rolling his eyes. “The one person who fucking knows the kid is the last one to know he’s Remus’s kid.”

“Hasn’t Tonks ever said his name? Or Andy?” James checked, frowning.

Sirius shook his head. “Andy calls him a ‘Wobbly Wanker’ and Tonks refers to him as ‘Teddy’s dad.’ I know they Facetime with him pretty often because he can’t be trusted alone with Teddy. I didn’t realize it was health-related though.” He splayed his hands on the bureau and leaned against it. “I always assumed he was a dead-beat.”

“No, he sends them money,” James said, rising from the bed. “I’ve seen him fooling around with his bank app. He sends money to Teddy every week.”

“Well, that’s something,” Sirius replied, staring at the mixture of random odds and ends James kept on the top. “Not that it changes much.”

James stepped closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for losing my shit, Sirius. I know I’ve been an arsehole lately, but–”

Sirius shrugged. “I know, I know. You’re going through it, mate.”

“That’s not an excuse,” James insisted, squeezing his shoulder. “I nearly shouted at you over a stupid prank and took a swing at Peter. It’s shit behavior and I won’t pretend otherwise.”

Sirius glanced up at James in surprise. “Really? You took a swing at Peter?”

“Yeah, I was overwhelmed and panicking…a bit.”

Sirius arched an eyebrow. “After Regulus snogged you senseless?”

James bit back a grin. “Yes.”

“You’re an absolute twat, you know that, right?” Sirius said, leaning back against the wall. “How can you stand there smiling about it when you went completely mental afterwards? Isn’t that sign of how stupid this is?”

James’s smile fell immediately and he looked away. “I’m not pursuing it, Sirius. He caught me off-guard and Peter lit into me immediately after, calling me a ‘coward’ and I was still reeling and I…lost it.”

“This isn’t just about Regulus though,” Sirius pointed out, nodding at James’s hand. “You’ve been in this funk for a while. He’s just exacerbated the situation by putting you on edge. You’re self-destructing.”

James cleared his throat. “Not anymore. I told him not to waste his time.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You think that’s the end of it then?”

Frowning, James nodded slowly. “He threatened to kill me, Sirius. I’d say he’s had enough of my shit.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“What? Why?” James asked, dropping his hand to his side. “You saw his face, he’s–”

“Protecting you,” Sirius finished for him, “from yourself.”

James hesitated, his eyes flitting around the room. That wasn’t at all what this was about, but he didn’t have a better explanation. “No, that’s not…it doesn’t make any…why?”

“I’m pretty sure you can work that out all by yourself. Now, as weird as all of this is,” Sirius insisted, circling a hand at the empty space where the two were facing off previously. “I’m going to need you to sort yourselves out, one way or another. This cannot continue.”

“Agreed,” said a voice from the doorway. 

Both of them looked up to find Lily leaning against the door frame. She surveyed the room, her eyes resting on James’s bandaged hand for a long moment. “Pandora and Peter filled me in. James, we need to talk.”

“Sirius and I already did, I don’t have anything else to say,” James replied, turning toward the bureau and pulling open a drawer. He rifled through a few things before pulling his swimsuit out. “This is personal, Lily. It doesn’t concern you.”

“The fact that it’s personal makes it even more of my concern,” she shot back, striding across the room. “We’re friends and I have a stake in this band now too, remember? You can’t just shut me out because I’m your ex, Jamie.”

Sirius glanced between them, clearly unsure if he should leave them to it, which was fair. Their rows were legendary in uni. They could spend hours arguing, then even longer angry fucking afterwards. Sirius often accused him of intentionally riling her up, and James never denied it.

“I should probably–” Sirius edged out of the door.

“No, you stay,” Lily ordered, gripping his arm. “This concerns you too.”

James frowned. “What are you on about?”

“You don’t get to wallow in your feelings and then treat your best friends like shit. I won’t allow it,” Lily said pointedly. “Either find a professional or talk it out with these twats, because I’m not unleashing you on the public in this condition.” 

She turned to Sirius and softened her voice. “Jamie is still stuck on our relationship and panicking over your brother at the same time. He’s being an utter twat-waffle about it, of course, but I need you to rein in the dramatics about Regulus. They’re adults, Sirius.”

“Fine, but I still think it’s mad,” Sirius said, ruffling a hand through his hair. “And I’m not encouraging these meltdowns either.”

“You don’t have to like it,” she acknowledged, nodding slowly. “Just don’t add to the chaos, all right?” 

“Yeah, fine.”

James stepped forward. “It’s not like that. I’m just—”

“Uh-uh, I’m not your therapist, no more trauma dumping,” Lily cut him off, waving a hand at his face. “Take a minute and breathe, Jamie. Peter mentioned the hot tub was on, so have a soak and try to relax. It’s been a long, stressful week and everyone needs tonight to recover.”

Sirius nodded. “She’s right. Go soak.”

The hot tub was magical in so many ways, which made it an ideal investment. Perfect for relieving stress and soothing away the soreness that always seemed to collect in his shoulders. As James slid lower in the water, he rested his busted hand on the side to keep it dry. The others were probably deep into the alcohol by now, but he’d opted out for the moment. The hot tub was a safer option than another pissed evening around Regulus. Particularly now that he knew for sure that the bloke fancied him back. 

James’s internal debate was far from settled. Even beyond Sirius’s entirely valid protests, he was hesitant to even consider it. Regulus was a high-profile person and drew a lot of less-than-ideal attention that James didn’t need, or want. Added to the fact that he was clearly incapable of acting like a reasonable human being around Regulus, it should have been simple to leave it. Unfortunately, his logical side had very little sway with the hormones driving his actions lately. 

James slipped further into the hot tub, letting his shoulders sink below the surface. The hum of the jets helped drown out his thoughts a little further. No more thinking, just relaxing. That was what he was instructed to do by his manager, so that’s what he would do. Perhaps if he followed the instructions that suited him, she’d give him lee-way on any he didn’t.

“Mind if I join you?” Remus asked, stepping into the garden. He’d changed into swim shorts, but still had a shirt on. 

“Yeah, go on,” James replied, nodding in his direction. “I’m not sure I’ll be great company at the moment though.”

Remus shrugged, then pulled off his t-shirt. He tossed it onto the arm of a chair, climbed into the hot tub, and slowly lowered himself into the water. James noted the scars criss-crossing his torso, but didn’t comment on them. There was one that was particularly noticeable crossing his ribs from his shoulder to his hip, then smaller scars that littered his chest and arms. 

The car accident. Right.

“Tell me it’s a shit ton of maintenance and exorbitantly expensive to have this in your garden,” Remus demanded, his head dropping back against the side of the tub. His face was a portrait of pure bliss and his voice held more than a little jealousy.  

James chuckled. “It’s definitely not cheap, but I see it as an investment in my health and well being, so it’s worth it. Though, I will say that it’s aggravating how many pests it draws in the summer. I chase plenty of turtles, birds, and bugs away from it every year.”

“Right, right,” Remus replied. “Sucks to be you.”

“Sometimes,” James agreed, tilting his own head back. “I don’t think anyone truly has it ‘easy.’ We all have issues, internal struggles, and shitty relationships. The hot tub does help though.”

Remus splashed water at him. “Just rub it in, why don’t you?”

A snort of laughter escaped as he side-eyed Remus. “You’re welcome to come over and enjoy it anytime, Remus. Does that make up for it?” 

“It helps.”

The door flew open, startling Remus into straightening up. He remained below the water line for the most part, but his shoulders shot up in panic. From inside, the sounds of their friends talking and laughing poured out the doorway. Remus stared at the doorway, jaw tensed in anticipation. 

Sirius leaned out of the flat and pointed at him. “Besoin d'un autre verre?”

Remus blinked violently at him, eyes growing wider by the second. He pulled his gaze away to stare at James with an overwhelmed expression. “What did he say?” 

“Not a clue,” James replied. He lifted up and pointed back at Sirius. “Massacre the Queen’s English like the rest of us, you ponce.”

“You’re a ponce,” Sirius tossed out with a huff. “I was talking to Reggie and he switches to French when he’s angry. I forgot to turn it off.” He waved his hand dismissively at James’s arched eyebrow. “Don’t start. You created this mess.” 

James opened his mouth to object when he heard Regulus’s voice carry from the flat. He promptly closed it and slid back down in the hot tub. Remus let his chin fall to his chest as he shook with silent laughter. 

“Did you need another drink, Remus?” Sirius tried again, exasperation clear in his voice.

“No, thanks,” Remus replied, fighting back a grin. 

Sirius rolled his eyes, then wandered into the flat. He stopped abruptly just inside and flailed his hands at his brother, speaking rapid-fire French. It wasn’t uncommon for him to swap languages, but not usually so openly. Quite often it was under his breath while he was thinking out loud or writing something down. 

James heard his name mentioned twice in the conversation and some sort of reference to the moon that he didn’t catch before the door closed again. He glanced at Remus, then shrugged. The bloke’s face was slowly losing all of its color and his hand was rubbing hard at his forehead. 

“Problem?” 

“The French. What’s with the French?” Remus asked, wincing at the word. 

“It’s the first language for the Black family, I think. Sirius says he didn’t learn English until he started school. They went to one of those fancy bilingual boarding schools before uni.” James nodded at the closed door with a smile. “I take it you’re a fan?”

“Don’t tell him, he’ll just torture me with it,” Remus groaned, squeezing his eyes closed tight. “I don’t need more of that, thanks.”

“Speaking of torture,” James said under his breath.

Regulus and Lily walked out of the flat, chatting animatedly. Lily wore a high-waisted bikini with a mesh cover up and Regulus was in swim shorts that barely hit mid-thigh. The conversation was entirely in French and so far beyond James’s meager comprehension. It was disturbing how much it affected him to see them side by side. Both were so bloody fit, in very different ways, and he hated that he couldn’t look away. 

“Lils? Are you coming in?” Remus asked, lifting up to see her better.

She glanced up and smiled. “Just to put my feet in. I don’t want to get my hair wet.” 

Linking her arm with Regulus’s, Lily led him over to the hot tub. He held her hand like a proper gentleman as she climbed in, then followed her up the stairs. Which, honestly, fuck him for being mannerly. James wanted to kiss him senseless for it, but I won’t!

Lily joined Remus and carefully lowered herself onto the highest part of the seat beside him, while Regulus slid into the seat next to James, but purposely avoided looking at him. He was obviously still annoyed, and that was probably for the best. James was struggling as it was to keep himself distracted from his bare chest.

What right did he have to show off collarbones like that?

“Anyway, that restaurant was an excellent suggestion, Regulus,” Lily continued her conversation, nodding at Regulus in appreciation. “Mary loved it! Especially those little crepes!”

Regulus hummed in approval. “It’s one of my favorites. I prefer the madeleines myself.”

“All French pastries are equally divine,” Lily conceded.

“What did you order?” Remus asked. He propped an arm on the edge of the tub and rested his temple against his palm. 

“Ratatouille for me, beef bourguignon for Mary,” she answered, a dreamy smile on her face. “We shared a bit of both. So good!”

Remus nodded. “Prefer steak tartare myself.”

Her face scrunched up in disgust. “Really? You like it raw?”

A startled bark of laughter burst through the open doorway as Sirius stepped out into the garden. He shook his head and grinned. “Oversharing out here, are we?”

“He was talking about meat!” Lily retorted.

“So was I!” Sirius’s snort sounded like it hurt. 

He goon-grinned at Lily, leaning over the edge of the tub to whisper in her ear. Immediately, she blushed bright red and swatted at his chest. Sirius chuckled to himself as he ducked a second blow. He tugged off his shirt and tossed it over his head, characteristically unconcerned about where it landed and flipped his hair upside-down to gather it in a bun. 

James grinned when Remus let his face fall into Lily’s shoulder. It was far more entertaining to watch someone else panic about a crush. Better Remus than me.

She patted his curls consolingly, then kissed his temple. “Poor thing. Forced to endure the likes of these lads.”

“Just kill me now,” Remus muttered.

Lily huffed. “Oh stop that. You’re nearly as dramatic as Sirius.”

Regulus’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he kept his comments to himself. As Sirius climbed in, he glanced between his brother and Remus pointedly. Sirius caught the look, of course, but shrugged it off. All of the plastic butt-shaped seats were taken, so Sirius propped himself up against the side of the hot tub between Regulus and Remus. 

“Oi! Here’s the next round!” Peter announced, bustling out of the flat with a bottle of gin in one hand and red wine in the other. He grinned lasciviously at the group before walking up behind Sirius with the bottle held out in offering. “Open up Sirius!”

Sirius leaned back and opened his mouth, letting Peter pour gin straight down his throat. He swallowed twice before Peter pulled it away. Moving on to Remus, Peter lifted the bottle again. Remus accepted a drink the same way, before pushing Peter away. Lily declined the gin and accepted a drink from the half-empty wine bottle instead. 

When he rounded the corner, Peter looked between the two and shrugged. “Gin or wine, James?”

“Gin, I guess.” James intended to abstain, but now that Regulus was sitting so close…he needed a drink. Tipping his head back, James accepted his fate as Peter dumped more than his fair share down his throat. 

“There you are,” Peter said, lifting the bottle finally. 

James wiped his face and shuddered. “Couldn’t have brought out the rum, could you?”

“Next round!” Peter promised, moving on to Regulus. Instead of pouring it, he handed Regulus the rest of the bottle. “Enjoy!”

Regulus grinned at him, then downed the remainder of the gin in one long, agonizing drink. Unable to help himself, James watched every swallow that sent his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly up and down his pale throat. It was pure torture and heady pleasure, all at once. 

Fuck me stupid, I’m already halfway there.

Regulus handed the empty bottle back to Peter. “Thanks.”

“I’ll be back in twenty with the next round!” he announced, disappearing back into the flat. 

“Pure menace,” Remus huffed, leaning his head back against the side of the tub. “He’s trying to manufacture more chaos.”

Lily nodded, then took a long swig from the wine bottle Peter left next to her. She pointed it at Regulus and smirked. “That was impressive. Quarter of a bottle in one go?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “It’s really not, We were raised on alcohol, served wine as children and whiskey as teens. Gin might as well be juice.”

“True,” Regulus agreed. He folded his hands behind his head and leaned back against the edge, completely at ease. The bastard is showing off now. “But there is no need to interrupt her praise, Sirius. Thank you, Lily.”

The position drew James’s gaze directly to his collarbones and he struggled to look away. He managed to focus on the water instead, but only because the surface reflected Regulus’s image in a wondrously dream-like way. The sharp lines of his face and his smooth, lean body rippled over the water. James’s attention slid to the side when Regulus shifted his hips. His thighs were just there…begging to be squeezed and nibbled on. 

Just once. I would die for a chance to touch him just once. And then what?

“Jamie? You all right?” Lily asked, reaching out to prod his shoulder. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

James looked up and blinked rapidly. “Huh?”

“Your face was an inch from the water, mate,” Remus explained. “Been in too long?”

“Probably.” James stood up and stretched, then climbed out of the tub. 

Regulus’s sharp inhale made James grin like the idiot he was. Served him right for staring at his arse. His white swim shorts did tend to go rather translucent when wet, but that was no excuse for ogling. Beads of water rolled down his body as he straightened up, and he could feel Regulus’s gaze boring into his back.

Just to spite him, James took an extraordinarily long time to pull his shirt on, sneaking a peek of Regulus’s heated stare. He pretended not to notice as he wasted time turning his shirt inside right a few times before lifting his arms to slide it over his head. Then, he purposefully tightened his abs as he rolled the shirt down his chest, and caught Regulus’s mouth falling open in his peripheral. Too easy.

Sirius leaned over and tucked his fingers under his brother’s chin, closing it for him. “Tu bave, Reggie."

“Putain, je ne peux pas respirer," Regulus said quietly, jerking back in his seat.

Remus’s entire body tensed and his hand gripped the side of the tub. Next to him, Lily tried to start up a conversation with Regulus about French food again, but every response came out in French.

“Reggie. Hey! Snap out of it!” Sirius ordered, patting his brother’s cheek. “T’as l'air ridicule, connard."

“Merde, il est si beau."

Sirius clapped his hands in front of Regulus’s face. “Oi! Arrête de tripoter mon ami avec tes yeux!”

When he heard “mon ami,” James looked up. That was a phrase he knew, Sirius had to be talking about him. Regulus immediately turned his attention to Sirius and spouted a long, whining phrase in French that sent Sirius into a laughing fit.

Remus practically crawled behind Lily to hide as the two bantered. Lily patted his head like a puppy, then turned toward the brothers and smirked. “Il est aussi en feu au lit."

Regulus promptly choked on his own spit and flushed a lovely shade of pink. He waved a hand at his face and very intentionally turned away from both of them. James wasn’t sure what she’d said to fluster him, but he was glad she did. Regulus was absurdly adorable when he was flustered.

No, he’s not adorable. He threatened to slice my throat. What the fuck?

“Lily!” Sirius squawked in protest. “You’re not helping!”

Her smirk widened. “I disagree.”

James rolled his shoulders and headed into the flat. There was nothing like a nice, long soak to ease the tension in his muscles and he rather enjoyed being the cause of the tension in the air behind him. He allowed himself a moment to gloat at having turned the tables on the fit bloke and leave him in a gay-panic for once. Just returning the favor, really.

Three steps in the flat and he was immediately accosted by Peter, who held out a full bottle of rum expectantly. James considered the offer for all of five seconds before saying, “Fuck it,” and downing most of the bottle in the next five minutes and finishing it in ten. So much for being careful. 

“Go on then, James!” Mary cheered sometime later, pulling him into the circle of people dancing in the sitting room.

After three songs and a belly full of rum, James was overly warm and entirely fluid. His body rolled through the steady pop beat, shirt lost somewhere between the door and this room. He didn’t remember taking it off again, but it was long gone.  

Whatever. Who cares? Not me!

Lily and Regulus walked in the door and froze. Her gaze fixated on her girlfriend’s body rocking into James, while Regulus stared at him. That heated look in his eyes was for James only, and fuck, that felt good. 

James held Mary’s hips and followed her body with his own, undulating slowly and deliberately through the dance. Mary laughed at Lily’s overwhelmed expression, then reached for her. As James released Mary with a smirk, he spun away solo and rolled his body with the beat. The music matched the thrum of his pulse in his chest, it was a part of him now.

“Right. That’s it then,” Regulus said, striding across the room.

He grabbed James’s left wrist and dragged him into the hallway. Before James could react, Regulus shoved him against his own bedroom door and kissed him. Not that he could form words anyway, the gin and rum was an odd mix, but James didn’t hate it. Especially with a taste of Regulus mixed in.

His hands had a mind of their own, sliding under Regulus’s shirt and gripping his waist before slipping under the waistband of his swim shorts. He was still wet from the hot tub and the fabric clung to his skin, slowing James’s progress. The kiss was frantic, nothing like the careful first time or the surprise of the second time. This one was bold and demanding, immediately setting his body aflame.

Regulus panted into his mouth, his tongue tangling with James’s in a desperate dance. He stroked his fingers over James’s bare chest and abs reverently, as though mapping the shape of them. A quiet moan escaped his lips as he pressed James into the door, their bodies aligning too perfectly.

He couldn’t resist. James pressed his knee between those delicious thighs and against Regulus’s eager dick. With only their shorts between them, it sent a sharp spike of pleasure rolling through James to hear him gasp.

More. I need more. James anchored Regulus against his thigh and rolled his hips.

The shattered sound that Regulus let out was glorious. It vibrated through his body. With every roll of his hips, both of them gasped and moaned. Regulus finally broke the kiss and buried his face in James’s neck, hot breaths panting against his skin.

“Yes, James. Right…there,” he whined. 

With his name on Regulus’s tongue, James couldn’t help but give in. He let Regulus ride his thigh at his own pace and explored every inch of flushed skin that he could reach. The urgency in Regulus’s movements was intoxicating. James wanted to devour him whole.

“Enough, Regulus,” a voice grumbled behind them. A hand reached out and gripped the doorknob next to James’s hip, shoving his bedroom door open. “Sober up first.”

James wasn’t prepared. As the door flew open, he went sprawling into his room and landed on his arse, just shy of the bed. He looked up in confusion to see Regulus hauled away just before the door slammed shut. It took him a full minute to realize what happened. Then, he launched himself at the door and wrenched it open, finding an empty hallway and no sign of Regulus. James heard the front door slam and dropped his forehead against the door frame. 

I was so bloody close.

Sirius slid into Lily’s vacated seat in the hot tub, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He was hoping Remus wouldn’t rush back inside now that it was just the two of them. This was his chance to clear the air. It was rare for him to have Remus’s full attention and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity. 

“So, does it bother you that we were speaking in French? You seemed…annoyed,” Sirius said quietly. “I’d understand if it did. It took me a while to catch on to Hindi around James and his mum.”

Remus glanced up. “You speak Hindi too?”

“Not well, but I know enough to understand them.” Sirius offered a sheepish smile. “We were raised bilingual, so I pick up languages fairly quickly.”

“Do you know any Welsh?”

Sirius shook his head. “Not really. Just the words everyone knows like ‘bore da’ and ‘cariad.’”

“Os dywedaf fy mod yn eich cael yn ffit, a ydych yn deall?” (If I say I find you fit, do you understand?) Remus said, his voice lilting with the words.

“What does that mean?” Sirius asked, leaning forward. His eyes widened in fascination at the softness in Remus’s voice. 

Remus shrugged. “Just asked if you understood what I said.”

Sirius pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it pensively. That sentence seemed longer than “do you understand” to him. He considered calling him out for it, but decided to leave it, since he’d done the same earlier in French.

“Oh, don’t do that,” Remus breathed out, reaching up to touch Sirius’s chin. With his thumb, he freed Sirius’s bottom lip and smoothed over it soothingly. “Rydych chi'n fy dinistrio gyda hyn."

Sirius stared at him in shock, not daring to speak and shatter this spell between them. Remus never touched him. He always held himself just out of reach at all times. Sirius assumed he didn’t like being touched.

That fact seemed to occur to Remus at the same time and he pulled his hand away abruptly. Clearing his throat, Remus crossed his arms over his chest. He looked out over the garden and sighed. “I’m sorry for what happened at my flat. You just caught me off-guard…and I was defensive.”

“I shouldn’t have pried,” Sirius said, lifting a hand to brush his hair back from his eyes. “I imagine I would feel the same way, if I had a kid. It has to be weird that people know him that you don’t know.”

“It is,” Remus confirmed. He inhaled deeply before meeting Sirius’s eyes, the pale green searching his face intently. “Do you plan to have kids then?”

“In theory, I think it would be fun. Whenever I visit my cousins to play with their little boys, I definitely wish I could.” Sirius tipped his head to the side playfully and chuckled. “Though not a biological child, my genes are a bit…tangled.”

“Tangled?”

Sirius huffed derisively. “My parents were second or third cousins and the family motto is ‘toujours pur’ or ‘always pure,’ if that tells you anything. Utter rot.”

Remus gaped at him. “So you and your brother are…cousins too?”

“Hmm, technically correct,” Sirius answered, cringing heavily. “It won’t go any further though. We’re both very queer and have no intention of continuing the Black family line. My future husband will have to be the biological parent.”

“Oh, right.” Remus replied, shifting in his seat. “You’ve clearly thought about that.”

“Of course, doesn’t everyone? I know James does. He waffles back and forth about it, which was one of many things that drove Lily mad.”

Remus turned to face Sirius fully, resting his chin in his hand. “Speaking of Lily, what did she say that made Regulus blush so hard? I have to know.”

“Ugh, that. She told him that James was ‘fire in bed,’” Sirius replied, shuddering with disgust. 

“Yeah, that would do it.” Remus bobbed his head side to side before side-eyeing Sirius. “I bet he is too. Seems like the generous type.”

“Shut it,” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You know something,” Remus taunted, studying him closer. “Have you heard him going at it then?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, annoyed at the shift in conversation. “I’m not discussing my best friend’s sex life…or current lack thereof. That’s just disturbing.” 

The words were a bit snarkier than he’d intended, but he stood by them anyway. He’d much rather discuss his own prowess in bed than James’s. Ask about me, for fuck’s sake.

Remus arched an eyebrow. “That good, eh? Go on. Share with the class.”

“What? No! Why would I tell you? ”

“Why not tell me?”

Sirius scowled. “You know why. Don’t play stupid, Remus. It doesn’t suit you.”

His sandy-blond curls slipped to one side as he tilted his head curiously. “Maybe I want to hear you say it.”

“Which part?” Sirius checked. 

Sirius was well aware of what Remus was referring to, but he wasn’t entirely sure what the end-game was. He’d readily admit that he fancied Remus, if there was a chance he’d actually get to do something about it. Even if Remus intended to ridicule him for it. But discussing James’s sex noises? Not happening.

Remus shrugged, then sat back against the tub. “I’d take either at the moment.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Sirius said, holding out his hands. “What are you asking for, exactly?”

Remus dropped his gaze to the water and made a noncommittal noise. Sirius stared at him for a long, silent moment, trying to decide if Remus was actually attempting to flirt with him or was already pissed. It took him all of three minutes to decide that he didn’t care. 

“I’m not telling you anything about James, but I don’t believe for a minute that you don’t know that I fancy you. It was obvious from day one,” Sirius insisted. “I am not subtle.”

“Oh, it was,” Remus agreed, still studying the ripples in the water. 

Sirius sighed, letting his hands fall. So, Remus did know and chose to ignore it, or dismiss it, like he thought. Clearly, Remus enjoyed humiliating him, so fuck it. Why stop now? Why not throw all of his cards on the table and see where they landed? Risk was part of life, and if there was any chance with Remus, it would be worth it. If not, he’d have closure at least.

“I also really like you,” Sirius offered, resting his arms along the back of the tub. “You’re witty and clever, toss out sarcasm like it’s your full-time job, you’re talented as fuck, and you care about shit outside of yourself. That’s a combination that I rather enjoy.”

Remus’s head snapped to the side. His eyes searched Sirius’s face intently, as though he’d expected him to crack a joke afterwards, or take it all back. It was disconcerting that he was prepared for either possibility. What kind of bloke was open and earnest with someone he liked, then acted like a complete prat afterwards? A shit kind. Like Fabian.

“You do?” Remus asked. “Even after I was so rude to you?”

“Yes, I do,” Sirius replied definitively. “If you weren’t so determined to demonize me, you’d see it for yourself. Believe it or not, Remus, I’m not an arsehole. I may look like a prick, but I genuinely care about my friends and am obsessively loyal to my partners.”

Remus released an exasperated breath and shook his head, openly bewildered. “I don’t know what to say to that. It’s not easy for me and I can’t pretend like it is. I don’t have a lot to offer you, but what I do have is baggage. A shit ton of baggage. Why would anyone want to take that on?”

“That’s not the point, Remus,” Sirius said, dropping his head back and staring at the night sky. The darkness rolled in so slowly, he hadn’t really noticed it until now. While he couldn’t see very many stars here in the city, he knew where to find his. 

“Then what is the point?” Remus shot back, clearly frustrated.

Sirius smiled sadly at the stars, his own shining brightest of all. “None of that matters if you don’t like me back. I can be the fittest bloke in all of London, but it means fuck all if you’re not interested. Even if I was the perfect boyfriend and never let my mouth get ahead of me, it wouldn't matter a whit if you hate my personality. I could do everything right, never fuck it up, and it would still be a moot point.”

Glancing down at Remus, he smirked. “And I will definitely fuck things up in any relationship. It’s a guarantee. I’m impulsive, self-indulgent, and loud. That doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to offer. It just means that I have to find someone who appreciates those things about me…or at least tolerates them.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me, Sirius,” Remus replied, shaking his head. “I have responsibilities and don’t often have the luxury to fuck things up. It’s not as easy as you think.”

“I never said you had it easy or owed me an explanation,” Sirius refuted, folding his hands behind his head. “Parenting is really bloody hard, and so is living alone. I haven’t asked anything of you at all, actually. I stated my position, and you made yours just as clear. It sucks for me, I won’t lie. I think you’re fit as fuck and can’t stop imagining how devastatingly hot fucking you would be, but if I don’t do it for you too…that’s the end of it.”

“Well…”

Sirius shrugged lightly at Remus’s reluctance, unwilling to expose the blow to his ego. “I'm self-aware enough to recognize that I don’t appeal to everyone, even if I walk around like I’m sex on legs.”

“That is an apt description,” Remus grumbled, pressing hard against his temple. 

“So, I will have to accept that I’m not your type and move on,” Sirius continued, intentionally ignoring the comment. He needed more than that.

Remus refused to acknowledge any sort of attraction to him, but also didn’t outright say he wasn’t interested either. Even though he’d shaken his head at the flat when Sirius asked if Remus liked him, he’d never actually said it. Considering how direct Sirius was just now, and the half-assed response he received, he wondered if Remus ever would. 

When they’d argued in that first week, Remus was defensive and accusatory. He’d rebuffed him several times, but it was never in a clear, concise way. It was always Remus pushing him away. Why won’t he just say it? 

Remus glanced at the door to the flat where the party was still going strong, but didn’t say a word.

“Just say it, Remus,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Call it what it is and I’ll leave it.”

“Do you mean that?” Remus checked, side-eyeing him. “If I tell you to leave me alone, you will?”

Sirius closed his eyes and nodded, letting the disappointment wash over him once again. He braced himself for the words. This one was going to hurt. Remus was special. More than anyone he’d fancied, he really liked Remus. Probably more than he’d admitted to himself. 

The silence bloomed between them, suffocating the sliver of hope Sirius was clinging to. This was the moment he’d waited for all along. Rejection wasn’t easy to accept, but at least it was honest. At least it didn’t hide behind the facade of indifference. Brutal, but real. 

Remus shifted next to him, clearly overwhelmed. That certainly tracked since the bloke avoided confrontation at all costs. He would have been a good balance for Sirius too. Where Sirius dove head-first and arse out into everything he did, Remus was cautious to a fault and considered every angle. Perhaps he could have reined Sirius in, while he coaxed Remus out of his head. A good bloody match.

“What if I don’t want that?” 

Pulled from his meandering mind, Sirius opened one eye and peered out at him. “Meaning?” 

“If I don’t want you to leave me alone,” Remus repeated slowly. “What happens then?”

Sirius blinked both eyes open and stared. He was hesitant to move, in case he scared Remus off entirely. Was he hinting at…no, surely not.

“Whatever you want,” Sirius answered plainly. 

“What do you want? What expectations would you have of me if this…whatever this is…happened?”

Sirius studied Remus intently. He was avoiding Sirius’s gaze, but he wasn’t looking away. Instead, he’d focused on a spot just past Sirius’s right shoulder and remained fixated on it. Staring off into the dark was easier than facing him straight on apparently. 

“I can be flexible, to a point,” Sirius answered, slowly straightening in his seat. He dropped his hands to his lap and splashed the water idly. “The only thing I really can’t handle is sharing my partner. I openly admit that I’m needy as fuck. If you can’t handle that, it would be best to walk away now.”

“I see,” Remus said. “Anything else?”

“I need physical contact, as often as possible. It doesn’t have to be sexual.” Sirius smiled wryly to himself. “James’s mum calls me touch-starved. That’s not far off.”

He knew it was foolish to get his hopes up. Remus was positing what ifs, which could mean he was actually considering it, but could also mean he was just curious. Sirius didn’t let the tiniest bit of excitement thrum through him. Not yet. Not until Remus said it aloud. 

“Can I think about it?” Remus asked, meeting Sirius’s eyes at last.

“Yes, of course,” Sirius rushed to answer. He chewed on his bottom lip, hoping that didn’t sound as desperate to Remus as it had to his own ears. 

Remus glanced down at his mouth, then swallowed hard. “All right then.”

“Wait, does that mean you actually do–”

“I’ll let you know,” Remus interrupted, pushing himself upright. He abruptly swiveled toward the steps and climbed out of the hot tub. 

As he wrung out his shirt, Remus rucked up his damp curls. Sirius felt his chest clench, wishing he could bury his hands in too. He wanted to reassure Remus that it would work, to convince him to give them a chance and that he was worth the effort. The words sat in the back of his throat, at the ready. 

Sirius climbed out after him, turning off the jets as he went. He snatched up his shirt and followed Remus to the door. If there was a chance, he didn’t want to ruin it by running his mouth again. 

“Is there anything I could do…to help?” Sirius offered, brushing back the loose strands of hair from his bun. 

Remus pulled his shirt over his head, hiding the rugged scars that glowed beautifully in the moonlight. Not that Sirius would say so now. Even if he didn’t know the details, he knew enough to keep his admiration to himself. It was unlikely Remus would appreciate his compliments anyway. 

“Like what?” Remus asked, brows furrowing. 

“Well, it’s hardly fair to consider the idea without gathering all of the facts,” Sirius pointed out, a slow smirk spreading over his face. “I would think you’d like a full picture of the experience.”

Suspicion filled Remus’s eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. He stepped back and watched Sirius warily. “What does that mean?”

“Aren’t you curious what it would be like?” Sirius asked, keeping his distance. This wasn’t about pressuring Remus, it was honestly assuaging his own curiosity. Did Remus fancy him or not? There was one sure fire way to tell if he’d allow it.

“What part?” 

Sirius’s gaze dropped to Remus’s lips, then lifted back to his eyes. “Kissing me.”

Immediately, Remus’s eyes flicked down to Sirius’s mouth. He watched Sirius bite his bottom lip seductively, then coughed harshly. Remus cleared his throat twice, pulling his attention away to refocus on something safer. Like a shrubbery.

“Do you want to kiss me, Remus?” Sirius asked. He pulled his shirt over his head, then reached up to tug his hair out of a bun and let it drape over his shoulders. His movements were slow and drawn out as he tried for a casual tone. “It’s just a question.”

Remus stepped forward abruptly and caught Sirius’s wrist. He wrapped his fingers around the hand and lowered it back to his side. Sirius stared up at him in surprise. Without another word, Remus pulled the hair tie from Sirius’s hair himself. His fingers sifted through the waves gently as a slow, satisfied smile slipped free. 

Sirius’s heartbeat launched into a chaotic protest against his rib cage. That smile was carving right through the center of his chest and creating havoc inside. Sirius’s eyes fell closed as Remus finger-combed his hair, reveling in the feeling. Chills ran up his spine when Remus pressed his fingertips into Sirius’s scalp and massaged his head. It was perfect.

“If I start kissing you, I won’t want to stop. Do you understand, Sirius?” Remus whispered, ghosting his lips over Sirius’s ear. “You are a fucking treat and I will definitely overindulge if I let myself sneak a taste. It’s not fair to tempt you with something, then take it away.” 

Fuck. So bloody hot.

“Then don’t stop,” Sirius whispered back. “S'il te plait?”

“Oh that’s cheating,” Remus huffed, his hands sliding down to cradle Sirius’s cheeks. “You don’t even know how much I want to hear you beg. Save that pretty word for another time.”

Sirius’s eyes blinked open. “What the fuck? How did you…I don’t…”

Remus grinned, his cheeks flushed and eyes were overly bright. “Alcohol does wonders for anxiety, it turns out. As does the announcement from a fit bloke that he fancies you.”

“Baise moi,” Sirius breathed out.

Remus lifted his eyebrows. “I don’t know that one. What does that mean?”

“Fuck me.”

“Stop that, you twat,” Remus chastised, pulling his hands away. “Give me a week to sort things out in my own head first. Then, we’ll talk.”

“Only talk?” Sirius replied, shoulders dropping. 

Remus’s lips twitched in amusement as he stepped back. “Yes, talk.”

The evening ended on a hopeful note for Sirius, although he had nothing more than a fleeting promise to chat in the future. Music played at top volume and there were a number of people dancing and shouting to each other. Sirius supposed he should have played a better host, but Peter seemed content to distribute the alcohol and James was likely providing adequate entertainment. 

“Jamie, are you ready?” Lily called, lifting a hand to wave from the other end of the hallway. 

He nodded, lifting his guitar case in one hand and an extra amp in the other. Lily smiled, then waved him away dismissively, turning back to the manager of The Green Square. She was finalising the details of a deal with the man. 

If all went to plan, they would perform every Saturday night as the headliner for three months while they recorded teasers for social media. According to Lily, it gave them the freedom to practice the new songs while still bringing in a steady income, which would hopefully catch the attention of a record label. James was just happy to be back on stage.

It was a long, awful night, recovering from a shit ton of alcohol at the party. After Regulus was whisked from the flat by Pandora, James passed out. Afterwards, he proceeded to drink every single drop of alcohol left behind. He regretted that decision when he woke up each morning, but now was feeling rather ambivalent about it. 

His primary concern was how he was going to look Regulus in the eye after humping him in the hallway. They were both pretty tipsy in the hot tub, and he’d just downed a bottle of rum twenty minutes prior. Surely they could just pretend that didn’t happen and continue to be professional colleagues. He and Regulus were both adults and shit happens at parties. It didn’t have to be awkward.

“Here, I’ll take those,” Remus volunteered, reaching for the guitar and amp. “You look like shit, mate.”

“Feel even worse,” James countered, releasing his hold. “Still recovering, but whatever.”

Sirius walked up behind him and pressed his face in James’s back, groaning loudly. “James, I’m going to murder you in your sleep.”

“You didn’t have to keep up with me, Sirius,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at Remus. “I have a higher tolerance than you.”

“Piss off,” he grumbled, tapping his head repeatedly on James’s back. “I hate you.”

James sighed. “Yeah, yeah. So you’ve said.”

“All right, Sirius?” Remus said casually, lifting the guitar to his shoulder and resting the amp on his hip. “Sleep well?”

Sirius froze, his entire body going rigid behind James. He slowly leaned to the side and peered around James’s shoulder. “Fuck!” he whispered-shouted, before hiding again. “Hi Remus. I’m…fine.”

“Very convincing.” Arching an eyebrow in question, Remus nodded at James for an explanation. 

“I’m a twat and he was commiserating with me about it,” James answered, laughing at the miserable groan from Sirius in response.

“All your fault,” Sirius agreed, refusing to come out of hiding. 

Remus fought back a grin and lost, then ducked his head before spinning away. He carried the gear down the hall and disappeared through the door to the stage. The moment he was out of sight, James grabbed Sirius’s arm and faced him.

“What was that about?” he demanded.

Sirius chewed his bottom lip and shook his head. He looked thoroughly spooked by the interaction and was struggling to respond to it. James couldn’t help but wonder if something happened between them that night. They were the last to come in from the hot tub.

“Sirius?” James prompted, nudging his shoulder. “What’s with you today?”

“Remus and I talked at the party. He’s thinking about ‘things’ and requested a week to consider it.”

“That’s a very logical, cautious decision,” James acknowledged, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “So, I presume you hate it.”

“Obviously,” Sirius snarked, ruffling up his hair. “He was so bloody confident when he was drunk, I nearly jumped him.”

James snorted a laugh and released his arm. “He looked back to normal now. Maybe a little less anxious around you, but otherwise–“

“He’s psyching me out,” Sirius groused. He fidgeted with the drumsticks in his hand. “I told him I fancy him and that I really like him, but he still wouldn’t even kiss me. I don’t know what to do with that, James.”

“Maybe he’s uncomfortable with physical stuff so early on? Some people need to really get to know a person first,” James suggested.

Sirius shook his head. “I think he was holding himself back. There was an intensity in his eyes that was almost…predatory.”

“Predatory? Remus? Are you taking the piss right now?” James scoffed. “That’s absurd! He’s the least confrontational person I’ve ever met.”

“I know, but he definitely took control of the situation that night and I don’t even know how to interpret the way he looked at me,” Sirius explained, shaking his head. “I really thought he wasn’t interested, especially after I stumbled on that picture of Teddy.”

“What? He’s been practically drooling over you for a solid week, mate!” James protested.

He was truly shocked that Sirius hadn’t noticed how clumsy Remus became when he started messing with his hair, or how long he stared when Sirius was laughing. Remus was a proper simp already and Sirius didn’t think he was interested? None of that tracked.

“You’re not usually the oblivious one, Sirius. How did you miss it?” James asked, reaching for the drum kit. 

Sirius shrugged, completely bewildered. “He shot me down every time I tried to flirt and told me off more than once just for opening my mouth. How am I meant to follow that to a conclusion of ‘he’s interested?’ I don’t understand him at all, but fuck knows I want to.”

James pressed his lips together to hide his grin. This wasn’t just a flirtation then. Sirius was simping over Remus too. That was new. While Sirius dated quite a bit, he didn’t fall into relationships easily. The bloke had to be really special to him for the risk to be worth it. 

Peter bounded into the hallway, spinning excitedly. His eyes practically sparkled, giving him away on sight. Weed was his coping mechanism for nerves. “Here’s the final setlist! Memorize it quick.”

James glanced over the hurriedly scrawled note and nodded. It was the line up they’d agreed to at the last practice, with the addition of “Middle of the Night,” which they’d focused on exclusively over the last week. The set list started with a cover of “The Reason” by Hoobastank, and ended with “What I’ve Done” by Linkin Park.

“All right, Peter?” James asked, giving in to a laugh.

“Bloody lovely, mate!” Peter enthused, smiling wide. He leaned extremely close to James, studying his face. “Did you know that your eyes have gold in them? I never noticed before.” 

Sirius cackled, pushing Peter back. “Yeah, he knows. Some girl wrote a sonnet about them in uni, our first year.”

James smirked. “I forgot about that.”

“Speaking of songwriters that are obsessed with you,” Lily said, leaning on Sirius’s shoulder. “Regulus is bringing guests tonight.”

Sirius glanced at her. “Guests? Plural?”

“Pandora requested a five top near the front.” 

“Ah, he’s bringing his roommates then,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “Should be an interesting evening.”

“Why?” James asked, curiosity getting the better of him. 

“You’ll see.”

Peter’s eyes widened, and he shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. “That was…ominous.”

“What’s taking so long?” Remus called, peering around the corner. He propped one hand on his hip. “Sirius, are you starting shit with James again?”

Sirius spun around. “No! I didn’t do anything!”

“Mm-hmm,” Remus replied, arching an eyebrow skeptically. “Come on then.”

James elbowed Sirius and smirked. “You’re in trouble now.”

“Fuck off,” Sirius whispered, shoving him away. He walked down the hallway toward Remus, running a hand through his hair anxiously. 

As the pair disappeared, Lily swatted James’s shoulder lightly. “Have you heard anything about them?”

“Not much. Sirius said Remus asked for a week to think about it.”

“That’s what Remus told me too,” Lily agreed, nodding slowly. “I hope he gives Sirius a chance. They would be good for each other.”

“You’re encouraging my band members to date?” James asked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. “I thought you’d be against it. Potential for drama and all that?”

“The way I see it, I’d rather you date each other than take risks with fans. That can lead to far more problems, from a publicity stand-point anyway.” She turned to face James directly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Speaking of, I would not object to keeping Regulus around longer.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning stop being a twat and pursue him properly,” Peter offered helpfully, grinning at Lily. “See, even Lils is on board.”

She smiled back at him. “Well said, Peter. He’s sweet, in his way, and is a huge asset to the band. Just think, he’s already writing songs about you. A couple more weeks and it will be an album’s worth.”

James turned and quickly followed his band mates. He didn’t need more opinions at the moment. What he needed was to focus on tonight’s performance. They had the set list planned and ready, but he still wanted to double-check the set up. That was one thing he never left to chance. Tripping over a cable or losing a drumstick mid-set would really fuck things up.

He turned the corner and hesitated, surprised to find Remus adjusting the collar on Sirius’s jacket. Remus was speaking to him in low tones while Sirius stared up at him. Given the incredulous look on his best friend’s face, it wasn’t a lecture.

Clearing his throat, James strode past them and out onto the stage. The house lights were on, but the stage was still in shadow. James made his way from instrument to instrument, checking everyone’s set-up. When he reached his guitar, he immediately crouched down to wrap up the cables near his feet. If anyone was going to trip, it would be him. Every bloody time.

There was a number of hushed conversations spread around the pub as the customers slowly filtered in. Most wouldn’t arrive until after seven, but there was an opening act to keep them entertained. He’d spotted the girl who was opening tonight on the way in. She played acoustic guitar, so she shouldn’t need to mess with the set-up. That was a relief.

“Very nice.”

“Is that him?” someone whispered. 

“Yes, now shut it.” 

A snort of laughter followed the sharp reprimand. “It hasn’t even started yet, relax.”

As he stood back up, James stretched his shoulders before he headed back into the staging area. He’d slept horribly all night and woke up in an awkward position. So much for the benefits of a hot tub.

“You said he used to play rugby, right? Do you know what position?” 

“Yes and I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you ask? This is important information,” the voice demanded. 

“It’s really not.”

The strange conversation faded as he stepped off of the stage. He was used to this sort of background noise at the shows and generally found it best to ignore it. Customers were here to be entertained, not to have the band eavesdropping on them. 

Jogging back into the staging area, James checked his mobile for the time. They still had about an hour until the performance. Opener would be on stage soon and then they’d get about fifteen minutes to warm-up before the set. 

“You’re obsessing,” Sirius noted, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

James waved at him dismissively. “Mind your own.” 

“Good advice,” Remus agreed, aiming a pointed look at Sirius. 

Eventually, it was their turn. Remus led the way on stage, Sirius at his heels, with James and Peter behind them. They quickly took their places on stage and began quietly tweaking their instruments and completing a thorough sound check. The crowd was lively, talking animatedly about the opening act. 

James made eye contact with his band mates to verify each of them were ready. Remus nodded, Peter saluted him with a goon-grin, and Sirius threw a drumstick at him. Smirking as he tossed it back, James caught the chuckle from Remus the same time Sirius did. His delighted grin spoke volumes. Good signs.

Approaching the mic, James flashed a bright smile at the audience. “Let’s make a little noise, yeah?” he called out, winking at the crowd. Several shouts of agreement followed. 

“1, 2, 3, 4…” Sirius counted in, eagerly leaping into the first song. 

James swayed to the beat, left hand flying up and down the fretboard while he strummed with his lightly bandaged right hand. The knuckles still twinged a bit as the vibrations rolled through his hand, but it wasn’t terrible. James stepped up to the mic and launched into the opening lines of ‘Going Crazy.' Covers were a staple for new bands and he figured he couldn’t go wrong with a Dolls song.

“Yeah, I’m going crazy, 
I’ve been running the streets. 
Yeah, I’m going crazy, 
I’m a pounding beat. 

Sick inside but you still see 
the best in me. Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!”

He sang out the chorus with a heavy rasp, causing a group of girls near the stage to squeal in delight. James heard Remus laugh at the reaction, while Sirius leaned into his mic to sing back-up and keep the melody. 

“Oh, I’m going crazy, 
I’m a sign of the times. 
Yeah, my mind is breaking 

with the city ignites. 
Kiss me on the street 
so I can find the best in me. 
The best in me, yeah.”

Had he picked this particular song because it was a crowd favorite? Yes. Did it also happen to reflect his current mental state? Also, yes. James needed cathartic music right now and this was it. The lads seemed to understand, none of them protested this choice. 

“I keep staring at the ceiling, 
sick and tired of feeling out of control. Control…control. 
Wake me up when it’s over. 
Trying to forget everything I know. 

It’s all I know. 
I’m just waiting for the ending. 
Is it hopeless pretending now?”

With the house lights dimmed, he couldn’t really see the audience individually. As a short instrumental broke up the versus, James scanned the crowd for Regulus. Lily said he’d be up front, but he hadn’t seen him yet. Just as he leaned into the mic again, he spotted him at a table with two other blokes, a stunning black woman, and Pandora. 

“Can’t see the daylight, 
trapped in a cage of doubt. 
I’m on the inside. 
Can you pull me out? 
Get me out. Help me now 
‘cause I can’t see what’s left of me.”

He sang directly to Regulus. James knew it was reckless, but on stage he had no fear. This was his home, his escape from the sharp reality that slapped him down on a daily basis and his own mind’s constant stream of doubt and criticism. Up here, he could say anything and simply call it a performance.

They performed a few more covers, saving Regulus’s songs for the middle of the set. The hope was that everyone would be so pumped that they’d lose their minds over new music. Excitement was exactly what they needed.

As the song faded out, the crowd shouted and applauded loudly. James smirked at them, amused by the girls calling for him to take off his shirt. It was practically a tradition at their performances, after all. He leaned down and accepted a pint from a server holding it up to him and chugged it. 

Handing his guitar to Remus for a moment, he whipped off his shirt and tossed it behind his head at Sirius. His best friend cackled, batting it away with a drumstick. Remus returned his guitar and swatted his chest playfully. James swiveled on his heel as he launched into the next song while facing Sirius. The crowd went wild, girls screaming and blokes whistling loudly. 

They started with Regulus’s new alt-rock song, which was fitting for the first topless song of the performance, in his opinion. Peter fluttered his fingers over the piano, leading them in as James turned back to the mic. When the drums and bass dropped, a crowd amassed in front of the stage. 

"In the middle of the night. 
In the middle of the night. 
I'm wide awake, 
I crave your taste! 

All night long ‘til morning comes, 
I’m getting what is mine, 
you gon’ get yours.” 

James belted out over the fury of drumbeats and wild bass playing. The crowd lost their minds, dancing and waving their arms over their heads. Several were captivated by Remus’s hands flying up and down the neck of his bass, while a few others screamed at Sirius and Peter. It was incredible to see so many people shouting their names, the energy filled him with adrenaline. 

He began walking around the front of the stage, playing furiously as they hit the bridge. Remus faced him and they had a mock battle of instruments. As he spun away, James sidled up next to Peter, shimmying against his shoulder. Peter grinned and shimmied back. 

Returning to the mic, James finished the song with Sirius’s falsetto in the background.

"These burning flames, 
these crashing waves. 
Wash over me like a hurricane. 

I’ll captivate, you’re hypnotised. 
Feel powerful, but it’s me again. 
Come, lay me down.” 

The chorus picked up for one last time and he ground out the ending just like he had in practice, leaning heavily into his growl. 

The entire audience stared back at him in shock, then yelled so loud they drowned out the closing notes of the song. James rolled his body seductively through the last few beats, setting off a torrent of screams from the girls in the front row. As the song faded out, he stepped up to the mic and grinned directly at Regulus. “That was Middle of the Night, written by the one and only…Regulus Black!”

Applause exploded around the pub. James caught his overwhelmed expression and winked, then spun away to reset for the next song. They performed the pop song and a few more covers before wrapping up the set. At the end, per usual, James introduced the band members, making sure to give Remus a properly embarrassing tease about the name of his bass. 

Walking off that stage felt different somehow. This was the beginning of something big, he could feel it. 

Regulus sipped his gin to hide a smile at his brother’s antics. He’d tossed both drumsticks at the end of the set, feigning shock when they flew across the stage at Remus and James. It had become a sly jibe since he’d accidentally on purpose shot a broken one at their heads in practice. More than once, his brother had to duck when James flung the sticks back at him. Better to chase after them than catch the drumsticks with his smug face, Regulus decided.

This time, James swiped the sticks out of the air and pointed them at Sirius before stepping into the staging area. Remus followed him, his gaze flicking over Sirius’s hair appreciatively before he disappeared. Regulus rolled his eyes, mentally preparing for his brother’s freak out later. Dorcas and Pandora chose that moment to excuse themselves to get refills of their drinks, promising to bring Regulus a refreshed gin and tonic. 

Sirius eyed the crowd of people begging for autographs and photos, then jumped up from his stool and walked to the edge of the stage. He paced along the edge, trying to find an opening to jump down, but there were people everywhere. “Oi, make a hole!”

Regulus kicked Evan under the table. “Give him a hand, will you?”

“What? Oh.” Evan hopped up and plowed through the crowd to reach the stage. Reaching up, he grasped Sirius’s waist and lifted him down to the floor, then promptly barrelled through the crowd again on his way back to the table.

Sirius waved his thanks, then was quickly distracted by a mob of fans. Regulus leaned forward and listened to the questions that were tossed at his brother and Peter, who had taken the scenic route off of the stage rather than make a spectacle of himself.

“Is the guitarist single? Does he like blondes? Will he sign my chest? What’s he really like?”

After a long barrage of questions about James, Sirius appeared thrilled to hear one about Remus. A short girl with long brown hair approached him with a grin. “Hi. I was wondering about the bassist. Is he as tall as he looks on stage?”

“At least. Pretty sure he’s about 6’ 2” tall.” He held his hand up to roughly where Remus landed above his head in demonstration. “About here.”

“Wow,” she breathed out, staring up at his hand in awe. “I love tall blokes.”

“Me too!” he enthused, grinning when she clapped her hands excitedly. 

“Are you seeing him then?” she checked, searching his face intently. 

Sirius shook his head. “I wish. If he gave me a chance, I’d take it in a heartbeat.”

Her face flushed as she nodded. “You’re really handsome though. I’m sure you charm everyone you meet.”

It took his brother a solid ten minutes in the conversation to realize she was hitting on him. Sirius was so caught up with their shared wonderment over Remus, he hadn’t caught a single one of the compliments she’d aimed at him, until Regulus scoffed at him. 

“Are you exclusively interested in blokes?” she finally asked, leaning in closer. 

Sirius blinked rapidly at her, clearly taken aback by the question. As over the top as he tended to present himself, most people probably just assumed he was gay. Clearing his throat, Sirius shrugged and answered diplomatically. “I prefer masc presenting anyway.”

“Oh, all right,” she said, disappointment evident on her face. “Are any of the others open to girls?”

“Some of them,” he answered, smirking when her face lit up. Sirius gestured at his brother’s table, using him as an excuse to escape the awkward situation. “I hope you enjoyed the show, but I have to harass my brother before he leaves.”

She spun around and gasped, her hands clutching her cheeks. “Regulus Black is your brother? How did I miss that?” 

Sirius slipped past her and rounded the side of the table, then stole Pandora’s recently vacated seat next to Regulus. Noting the amused look on his face, Sirius budged his shoulder. “Piss off, she was nice.”

“Mm-hmm, really nice, ” Regulus teased, chuckling to himself. 

“She started talking about Remus, I wasn’t paying attention to the other bit,” Sirius defended.

Regulus waved him off. “And you called me a simp.”

“You are–”

Barty leaned across the table and flicked Sirius’s hand, then feigned fanboy excitement. “Speaking of simping, is this lead singer of yours as big an arsehole as he appears?”

Sirius scowled, leaning back from the table and eyeing him narrowly. He was not a fan of Barty Crouch, Jr, which was fair. Barty was a prick on a good day and a pure menace on a bad one. Early on in secondary Regulus learned to separate the two at all times. Otherwise, they hissed in each other’s faces like feral cats defending their territory.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“All that strutting around like he’s worth looking at,” Barty sneered, his lip curling in disgust. 

Evan roughly pushed him aside. “Ignore him, he’s jealous of the attention. I have a more important question. What position did Potter play in rugby?”

“He tried a few, but really enjoyed hooker, even though he’s a bit tall for it,” Sirius answered, relaxing a bit. 

He didn’t seem to mind Evan as much. Though Regulus knew Evan’s obsession with sport could be a bit tedious, he was generally good-natured and could manage polite conversation.

“Hooker, really? I suppose that makes sense,” Evan said, nodding slowly. “He has incredible flexibility up there, definitely necessary for a hooker.”

Barty waved a hand in front of Evan’s face. “Nobody cares about rugby! Unless this man is paid by the hour, I don’t give a fuck!”

Evan swatted his hand away with a huff. “I care about it!”

“Does he normally avoid the crowd after?” Regulus interrupted, glancing around the pub. 

Sirius smirked at him. “Yes, at least for a bit. He’s been mobbed a few too many times. Some twat tried to feel him up once and James punched him in the face. Almost got himself arrested for it too.”

“Unsurprising,” Regulus grumbled under his breath. He was shooting glares at a number of people loitering around the stage entrance. 

“Relax, Reggie,” Sirius coaxed, squeezing his shoulder. “James hates this part. He likes the attention on stage, where it doesn’t mean anything. Once he’s back on solid earth, he avoids the crowd like the plague.”

Regulus did relax after that, his shoulders easing away from his ears. It was admittedly foolish to give in to jealousy here of all places. This was all part of James’s job, after all, and his own to some extent. 

As if summoned on command, James walked out of the staging area. He’d put a clean shirt on and swapped his contacts for his glasses. When the handful of people at the door called for his attention, he begrudgingly posed for photos with a half-hearted smirk, but he continuously glanced back at Regulus’s table, as if verifying he was still there. 

“Oh,” Regulus said softly. He straightened in his seat and fussed with his shirt, trying to smooth out any wrinkles, real or imaginary.

Sirius snorted a laugh. “See? He’d much rather be over here chatting than chased by fans.”

Barty swiveled around and studied James, his pinched expression clearly displeased. He glanced between Regulus and James twice, then grimaced. “That’s who has you ranting and acting a fool? You’re better than that.”

“I’m really not,” Regulus disagreed, tilting his head to the side. James’s hair was still soaked with sweat and the urge to lick him hadn’t yet dissipated. 

Evan laughed. “I mean, he’s certainly fit. I’ll give you that, Reg.”

“Oi! Whose side are you on?” Barty demanded, scowling at Evan. 

“Mine. I’m on my side, you arrogant sod,” he retorted, flicking Barty’s arm. “I’m single and free to ogle any bloke or bird I like, just like you. I could even bring home some rando from the pub. Imagine that?” 

Barty’s jaw tensed, but he kept his mouth shut for once. He stared at James’s back for a long moment as if trying to explode his head from a distance. 

Sirius’s gaze flicked between the two, then met Regulus’s in question. The pair were even more obnoxious lately, dancing around each other and shooting pointed glares at each other at random. Regulus shrugged dismissively. 

By the time James escaped the fans, Regulus was fidgeting in his seat. It was a solid effort on his part to feign surprise when James appeared at the table and offered an apology for the wait. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Regulus said off-handedly. “James, this is Barty Crouch Jr. and Evan Rosier. We share a flat downtown.”

“What he’s trying to say is we’re his friends,” Evan replied as he offered his hand. “So, I hear you played rugby?”

James grinned, accepting the handshake and leaning his hip against the bar-height table to chat with Evan. The two went back and forth over their favorite teams and players while Barty openly glared at James, and Regulus glared right back. 

“What’s with the fire and fury?” Remus asked, dropping a hand onto Sirius’s shoulder.

Sirius nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. His whispering was a little too loud and Regulus considered kicking him to shut him up. “That one is Barty. He’s jealous of Reggie’s infatuation with James. On the right is Evan and he’s decent, but appears to fancy Barty. Per usual though, Regulus is fighting fury with fiendfyre.” 

Remus nodded, resting his forearms on the back of Sirius’s chair. “All right, that makes more sense.”

While the rugby players traded barbs over this technique or that club and laughing jovially,  Regulus and Barty argued via facial expressions alone. It was fairly obvious to anyone watching that Regulus was winning, but Barty was gradually becoming more and more exasperated. 

“So, are you going to fuck Regulus or not?” Barty spit out, eyeing James. The entire table went quiet as everyone turned to stare at him. 

Before James could respond –or Regulus strangled him– Evan shoved his chair back from the table. He stood up and loomed over Barty, his olive skin flushing darkly. “Why do you care? You’re not shagging either of them, so why the fuck does it matter to you?”

Barty’s mouth snapped shut and his eyes widened in surprise. Even though he stood a few centimeters taller than Evan, Barty cowered under his furious glare for a long, silent moment. When he spoke again, his voice was low and hesitant. “Just asking. Don’t look at me like that, Ev.”

“No. I’m sick of this shit,” Evan snapped, his face inches from Barty’s now. “You couldn’t control your jealousy for one bloody night, could you?” He pointed at James, then at Regulus. “He’s really fucking nice…and he isn’t any of your concern."

“I’m allowed to care about my friends!” Barty argued, his brow furrowing. “I have to protect him.”

Evan scoffed, “This is you ‘caring,’ is it? I’d like to opt out then.”

“You’re my friend too!”

“That’s funny, I don’t see you blowing up in a jealous –oh, I mean ‘protective’— rage every time I talk to a bloke,” he shot back, arching an eyebrow skeptically. 

Barty slunk low in his chair. “You don’t throw yourself at smug arseholes like he does, the slag.”

“I beg to differ,” Evan refuted, lifting his chin defiantly. “I definitely fall into that category around arseholes like you.”

Sirius started to defend Regulus when Remus’s strong hand covered his mouth. He gently pulled Sirius back and muttered, “Don’t get involved, Sirius. It’s not your battle to fight. Let Regulus handle him.”

At the same time, Regulus reached over the table and smacked Bary across the mouth hard enough to make his jaw snap. His entire body was drawn tight with contained fury and he was considering a second hit when James intervened. He grabbed Regulus’s shoulders and pulled him out of his chair before positioning himself between Regulus and Barty. 

“Whoa! Hold on, Regulus.”

Did he just put himself in the line of fire? Oh, hell no.

“What the fuck?” Barty shouted, rubbing at his cheek.

Evan’s face had blanked completely as he propped a hip against the table. He ignored Barty’s grousing about the hit and was staring over his shoulder at Peter instead. 

“See what you’ve started,” Barty accused, glaring at James. “Everything was just fine until you showed up. Worthless, arrogant twat.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Regulus growled, lunging at his throat. James held an arm out, wrapping it across Regulus’s chest and gripping his hip to keep him contained. 

Barty leapt up from the chair and pointed at Sirius, openly livid. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Never liked me being friends with your brother! You’re trying to sabotage our friendship!” 

Sirius lurched forward, but found himself bound to his chair by Remus’s arms. He wriggled helplessly for a moment, trying to launch one decent swing at the prick. When that proved futile, Sirius kicked him in the shin instead. Barty squalled like a little girl and clutched his leg. 

Remus shook his head and sighed, clearly amused. “I should have expected that. Clever you.”

Unfortunately, Barty kicked Sirius back even harder, and all hell broke loose. Sirius launched forward at the same time as Regulus, a simultaneous wall of flailing fists that sent Barty wobbling backwards in his chair. 

“Don’t you ever touch him!” Regulus snapped, leaping past James’s outstretched arm to take a swing at Barty. Evan let out a string of curses and jumped out of the way.

“Nope, we’re not doing this today,” Remus refuted, grabbing Sirius’s shoulders and abruptly redirecting him. “Time to go, James.”

“Agreed.” James tried to pull Regulus away, but after several failed attempts to redirect him, he huffed in frustration. 

“Fine, have it your way,” James said, wrapping an arm around Regulus’s waist and physically removing him from the argument. Regulus went completely still, his hands gripping James’s bicep and eyes wide in shock. “No public rows, that’s your rule.”

Oh gods, oh gods, ohmyfuckinggods! He did not just pick me up.

In their wake, Barty gaped. He took a step forward to follow them, only to have Evan grab his shoulder and force him back into his seat. “You started this, Barty,” he hissed, holding him in place. “Don’t even think about escalating it. I like Regulus better than you.”

Once they reached the staging area, Remus released his brother and turned to close the door behind James and Regulus. Sirius collapsed on the sofa pushed up against the wall, but appeared sorely tempted to run around the other side and smack Barty himself. The only thing stopping him was Remus’s warning look, which pinned him in place. 

“Listen, you can’t go around smacking the living shit out of people,” James lectured, slowly lowering Regulus to the floor. “Bad press and all that nonsense, remember? Even if it was entirely justified.”

Oh, I’ll show you “justified.”

The moment Regulus’s feet touched the floor, he gripped James’s arm and dragged him out the back entrance. In the alley separating the pub and the shop next door, Regulus shoved him against the wall and pointed his finger in James’s face.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he warned, fury radiating off of him.

“Look, I was just trying to help,” James insisted, holding his hands up in surrender. “You said—“

“If he’d taken a swing at you, I’d have to murder him where he stood! Don’t you dare put yourself in the line of fire,” Regulus argued, talking over James.

“I’m sorry…what?”

Regulus groaned in open frustration and turned to pace the alley. He rifled a hand through his hair twice before he seemed to recover control of himself. “You have to promise that you won’t take that risk. If you’d been hurt again, I’d…” he trailed off, grimacing at the thought.

“I can’t do that, Regulus. I will absolutely not allow someone to hit you,” James refused, shaking his head. He suddenly felt like a disobedient puppy.

“No one is going to hit me, James,” he said, enunciating every word to make himself crystal clear. “I can defend myself.”

James huffed. “What if they’re stronger than you? He could’ve—“

“Try.”

“What?”

“Try to hit me.”

“No! Fuck off.”

Regulus stepped closer. “Do it. You won’t be able to, James. No matter how hard you try. Neither will anyone else.”

“Why? Do you know martial arts or something?” James checked, glancing around the alley. He didn’t particularly want to be thrown on the ground if anyone was watching.

“No. I don’t need it.”

James frowned, but lifted a hand and half-heartedly threw a punch. Regulus didn’t even try to stop it, staring at him with an unimpressed scowl when it didn’t land. Rolling his eyes, James tried again, wincing as his fist neared Regulus’s face. This time, Regulus grabbed hold of his fist lightning fast and used his own momentum to shove him back. 

Eyes wide, James found himself crushed against the wall with Regulus’s body pressed tight to him and a switchblade fixed against his throat. If he wasn’t so shocked, it would have been far more erotic than it had any right to be. 

“Whoa! What…how did you…” James spluttered, blinking at him in confusion. “Where did the blade come from? You don’t even have pockets!”

“Not the point of the lesson, James,” Regulus replied, leaning up onto his tiptoes. He ghosted his lips over James’s slack-jawed mouth. “Promise you won’t dive between me and another person again.”

“What if there are multiple assailants?” he argued, flexing his shoulders to push off the wall.

“Then you can stand behind me and watch my back,” Regulus allowed, arching an eyebrow. “Now say it. Promise me you won’t do it again.”

James kissed him instead, unable to deny himself a reward for enduring that impressive display. He was careful not to push forward though, well aware of the blade at his throat. To be honest, he was still marveling over the fact that he hadn’t even seen Regulus pull it out and wasn’t fully convinced he wouldn’t actually use it just to prove a point. 

Regulus pulled back, just out of reach, and smirked. “Nice try. Stop deflecting and say it, James.” 

“Fine, I promise not to defend you from physical fights, unless there are multiple assailants, you request my help, you are incapacitated, or you are unaware of the impending attack,” he said, adding as many qualifications to the promise as possible.

Lips twitching with amusement, Regulus nodded. “I’ll take it.”

“Great. Grand. Just bloody lovely. Now you make the same promise to me.”

Regulus’s smirk widened. “You’re hardly in a position to make demands.”

James tried valiantly to wriggle free, but it was useless. Regulus was stronger than he looked, and he was using pressure points to immobilize his joints. It was disturbingly effective. He slumped against the wall with a huff.

“Besides, given your temper, you’ll need me to intervene for your own safety,” Regulus teased, clearly enjoying himself. “Admit it, James. You. Need. Me.”

Exasperated, James scrunched his face up. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“I wasn’t offering to be your bodyguard.”

“Then what are you offering?”

The question seemed to throw Regulus for a moment. He released James’s wrists and shoved the knife into his sleeve. “What do you want?” 

James rubbed at his wrists as he considered the question. He knew what he’d always wanted, a girlfriend…or a partner? His preferences seemed to be growing fuzzier by the minute. Particularly with Regulus staring at him curiously.

“Everything.”

His answer was a bit more vague than he’d intended, but it was the truth. James was tired of relationships that were really half-assed situationships. There had to be a deeper connection, or it just wasn’t worth it anymore. Wild rows and angry sex were great, but they weren’t everything. He wanted trust, respect, and…love.

Regulus won’t fall for me. That’s an unrealistic expectation.

“Of course you do,” Regulus said, rolling his eyes. “I can’t imagine you accepting anything less.”

“I used to, but I don’t want to anymore,” James admitted, pushing his glasses up on his forehead. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “It’s too hard to pretend that affection alone is enough, when it really isn’t. I’m tired of pretending. Look, I know it’s too much to ask, so I stopped asking.”

“Nonsense. You deserve everything,” Regulus whispered. 

He reached up and fixed James’s glasses, gently setting them back in place. Pale fingertips skimmed over his cheek like a calm, seaside breeze before falling to his chest. Regulus leaned against him for balance as he straightened up, giving James a brief glimpse of what it would look like if Regulus rode him.

“I want you.” The words came out without permission, but James didn’t see a point in trying to retract them. It wasn’t a secret from Regulus, or anyone else, at this point.

Regulus hesitated, then slowly trailed his hands up James’s biceps. His eyes flashed with something close to hope before turning dark as he circled his arms around James’s neck. “Then have me.”

James kissed him. He was done fumbling with words when they could never adequately express what was happening in his mind and heart. His hands roved desperately, his tongue hungrily sweeping into that tantalizing mouth, and his mindless moan as Regulus rolled his hips spoke far more articulately than he ever could. 

Every time he touched Regulus, he was overcome by the need to have more of him, to have all of him. One kiss was never enough. A brief touch only left him aching for another, for the right to touch Regulus at all times. 

Regulus pulled back with a gasp and closed his eyes. “Take me home with you. We can’t do this here. Too many eyes…and cameras around.”

“Yeah, yes, let’s do that,” James agreed readily. He wanted everything, but he was desperate enough to take whatever Regulus allowed him to have and be grateful for it.

They separated quickly and straightened out their clothes, both of them tenting their trousers like teenagers. James couldn’t help himself, he had to assist Regulus with tucking in his shirt. When his fingertips brushed against the head of his dick, Regulus’s hips surged forward. 

“James!” he whisper-shouted, gripping James’s bicep and pressing his hips against his hand. “Now. We have to go now.”

He finished what he started with more patience than he normally had to offer such an unnecessary task, gently tracing Regulus’s prominent hard-on whenever possible. Regulus was flushed all the way up from his neck to the tips of his ears and his eyes were glassy with desire. 

“Can’t have you walking out looking ruffled,” James teased, patting Regulus’s chest. “Ready?”

Regulus nodded eagerly and grabbed James’s wrist. With a quick pivot, he headed for the street. His mobile was in his hand before they reached the curb. “Rear entrance of the pub. Yes. I’ll tell her.”

“Are we ditching your friends and the band then?” James asked, eyebrows raised. “We still need to load the van and—”

“Not tonight. I’m texting Peter already, he can cover for you.”

James slowed his steps and tried to reason with Regulus. He wanted to run home and shag the life out of him too, but he still had responsibilities. The band was counting on his assistance and there were usually fans to greet and mingle with after his performances.

“I can’t just ditch everyone and—”

“You can, and will,” Regulus said firmly, holding up his mobile. As the black sedan pulled around the corner and slid silently into place in front of them, James caught Regulus’s hand and read Peter’s reply. 

Regulus: Cover for James? He has plans.

Peter: Lock him up, if necessary. You’re doing the Lord’s work. 

James rolled his eyes. His friends were far too concerned with his lackluster love life. It would be amusing if it didn’t irritate him so much. “The Lord’s work? That’s a bit much.”

Regulus pulled him into the back of the sedan, then leaned close to whisper in his ear. “A prayer is whatever you say while on your knees…and I want to be your deity.”

Goosebumps followed the delicious shiver that rushed over his skin. Regulus’s poetic mind turned him on even more than his fit body. It was strange, but incredible that this bloke could affect him this way without a row. For James, the fight was half of the fun and one of the few ways that effectively riled him up. His obsessive dopamine chasing brain lived for the rush of a good, high-intensity argument. 

Except, Regulus refused to engage. He rarely lost his temper, even when he’d all but thrown James against the wall, he’d calmed within seconds. There was no time for James to push him further, or test the limits of that self-control. It was endlessly fascinating and frustrating at the same time. Yet, Regulus brought him to the brink with a deep kiss or a careless touch.

Nothing about this made sense. 

Regulus wasn’t even the sort of man he usually went for and the mere idea of dating a social media celebrity was horrifying. Sirius seemed to find it amusing, then freaked out when they kissed in front of him. Lily was encouraging it for some reason, yet Pandora pulled them apart at every opportunity. James had never felt more confused about what was the right thing to do. 

A tidal wave of questions nearly drowned out the pleasure that lingered from their half-feral frotting in the alley. What is this? What does it mean? What if this fucks everything up? What if the band resents us for abandoning them and…oh fuck.

Every thought slipped from his mind as Regulus’s hand slid up the inside of James’s thigh. As if his dick wasn’t hard enough, it swelled painfully behind his zipper as Regulus’s fingertips inched further and further up his leg. The worst part? Regulus wasn’t even paying attention, he was furiously tapping one-handed on his mobile. 

“Um, Regulus?” James said, tensing as the hand slipped higher still. He was going to cum in his pants if he didn’t stop this. 

Regulus hummed in vague acknowledgement, but continued to type rapid-fire with one hand. His grip on James’s thigh truly appeared to be incidental rather than intentional. Perhaps, he felt the tension between them and it was his attempt to be reassuring. This could be an innocuous–

James choked as Regulus’s fingertips traced the length of his dick. Every slight pressure against the bulge in his jeans was another lit fuse to a firecracker. The sharp intensity of his reactions left him breathless and panicked. This wasn’t normal. It was not– Fuck! 

His hips jerked hard and his head fell back against the seat when Regulus cupped his bulge. There was no way it was unintentional when he ground the heel of his hand against James’s dick and made spots appear before his eyes. It was rough and harsh and just past the fun side of painful, exactly how James liked it. He forgot how to breathe. Air stuttered out in frantic bursts, but struggled to get back into his lungs. 

“Reg–” James tried again, losing speech entirely when Regulus’s fingertips stroked the denim stretched taut over his bollocks. He was already so close to the edge that the sheer force of his will was losing the battle to the desperate need for relief. The promised high taunted him though, just barely out of reach. I could get addicted to this.

He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip, determined to keep the moans rumbling in his chest from escaping. If he’d downed a few more drinks, he wouldn’t have bothered. James internally cursed at himself for choosing moderation for their first gig at a new venue. The driver doesn’t care, he gets paid either way, right? And yet…

The moment he started to overthink, Regulus’s deft fingers robbed him of that luxury and flattened the world down to nothing but the backseat of this car. There was no world outside, no future or past to worry over. Just Regulus and the cursed magic he used to torture James. Delicious torture.

James didn’t notice when the car stopped and had no idea how long they waited at the curb when Regulus released his seat belt and reached past him to fling the door open. He stared at the flat incredulously, unsure how they’d arrived home so quickly. Regulus shoved him forward, calling out instructions to the driver as he crawled out after James.

“Thanks, Paul. As you were.”

The driver snorted and gave Regulus a mock salute before pulling away, likely heading back to the pub for the rest of his friends.

“Do you have your key?” Regulus asked, patting down James’s pockets. 

James barely had the mental acuity to put one leg in front of the other. “I have no idea.” 

Regulus tugged his key chain from his front pocket with an arched eyebrow. “Please tell me the others have a key to the band’s van, James.”

“Yeah, Sirius does.”

Without another word, Regulus charged up the path to the door of the flat. James swiveled so fast to watch him go that he nearly tripped over his own feet. Thankfully, Regulus didn’t notice. He pushed the door open and strutted in like he owned the place, just like he had with James’s head. There was no warning. Regulus appeared, then quickly dominated his thoughts and demanded all of his attention. 

“Fuck me, that was hot,” James muttered, huffing in disbelief as he chased after him. 

He’d expected to find Regulus in his bedroom, since he already knew the way. Which was ridiculous in retrospect. When had Regulus ever done exactly what James expected? Never.

Instead, he found Regulus rummaging deep in the refrigerator with a wine glass in his hand and heavy sarcasm in his voice. “White Zinfandel? Who drinks white wine, besides children.”

“Pretty sure children aren’t meant to drink alcohol,” James said, forcing his legs to move. He was a little dizzy with Regulus’s abrupt shift from backseat siren to wine critic. “But if you’re thirsty…”

Regulus shut the refrigerator with a fierce scowl, and James was startled into silence. He gave James a long once-over, then softened a little. “Where’s the red? I know Sirius doesn’t drink white either.”

James pointed mutely at the brown bag on the counter. He’d picked up Sirius’s favorite wine from the off-license shop earlier that day, so he wouldn’t have a fit when he realized it was gone. Sirius was notorious for ignoring the magnetic grocery list on the side of the refrigerator.

“Ah,” Regulus said, eagerly pulling the bottle out of the bag and examining it. “This is acceptable.” 

He already had the wine key in his other hand, and with an obscenely smooth move, he unscrewed the cork. James blinked and his glass was half-full. Regulus downed most of the glass in one long drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing lewdly with each swallow, then nodded at the bottle in question.

“I’m good.” I’m going to explode. 

With a shrug, Regulus downed the rest of the glass, put the wine away, and rinsed his glass in the sink. James stared at him, bewildered by how comfortable Regulus was in his flat, especially considering he’d only been there once before. 

“Right, back to the fun bit,” Regulus announced, turning to face James. “Now, where were we– What’s that look for?”

“Are you real?” James asked. He stepped forward and poked Regulus’s shoulder. “Pretty sure you’re a witch.”

Regulus blinked rapidly, then frowned. “What do you mean? Are you drunk?”

“Me? You’re the one who just–”

“Look at me, James,” Regulus said. He gripped James’s chin and tipped his head down to meet his penetrating gaze. Intense gray eyes searched his for a long, silent moment before he sighed. “All right, good. You’re just being silly. I only saw you take three drinks while you were on stage, but–”

“You counted my drinks?” Suspicion pricked the back of his neck. James pulled away and stepped back. “Did you plan this?”

Regulus pressed his lips together and looked away, a sweet pink flush spreading over his cheeks. He crossed his arms over his chest, and James could practically see the defensive wall spring up between them. “Of course not. How could I know that you’d want this?” 

“Then why?” When Regulus didn’t answer right away, James located his backbone amid his frayed nerves and demanded, “Regulus, why?”

Regulus startled, but lifted his chin defiantly. His voice was sharp with reproach and sank to the hilt with a single blow. Each word was spoken with deliberate intent, wedging the knife deeper still before twisting it. “When I’m interested in someone, I observe and ask questions. That is not a crime.”

“Oh.” James didn’t have a rebuttal for that. He has a fucking point, you knob!

“Are you done impugning my integrity?” Regulus asked flatly, clearly unimpressed. “Or did you have more accusations before I suck you off?”

James opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. His confusion must have been obvious because Regulus threw his hands up in exasperation and stomped down the hall toward his bedroom. More out of curiosity than anything else, James trailed after him.

This was far different from his arguments with Lily, or even Sirius and Peter. When he pushed too far, they lashed out. Their anger evenly matched his own. One to one, a fair fight.

James was well-practiced with parrying insults and defusing shouting matches, but Regulus… This man devastated him with a glare, a curt retort, or his absence. It was impossible to fight back when the man refused to engage, yet still, James couldn’t help himself. He wanted to push all of Regulus’s buttons to see how far he’d take it, or to painstakingly assemble his puzzle pieces to find what secrets he kept hidden away in that brilliant mind of his.

“Regulus, we don’t have to if…well, fuck,” James said, quickly closing the door behind him. 

Regulus had already taken off his shirt, and while James stood there gaping, he pulled his belt out of the loops one after another, agonizingly slow. “Did you really think that I would allow you to sabotage us? I’ve wanted this since I first saw you on stage, James.”

The urge to stop him and finish undressing Regulus himself was strong, but the guilt was stronger. This was a reward, and James wanted to earn it, but he hadn’t yet. He didn’t deserve to be rewarded for starting a fight with Regulus, especially when James wasn’t the one who ended it. How could he justify this?

“Wait, Regulus, we can’t do this yet. We have to deal with the argument first and then–” 

“It’s sorted,” Regulus said, unbuttoning his trousers. “There was no argument.”

James rushed forward and pulled his hands away. “No, you don’t understand. I didn’t fix it. We just stopped, but the issue is still there.”

“What issue? That you don’t think you deserve affection?” Regulus deadpanned. 

“It’s not about deserving, it’s…it’s…” James flailed, trying to explain himself. He wasn’t sure why, but he needed Regulus to understand. “I’ll admit that I like the rush of an argument, the adrenaline is addictive, but also...everything comes out! No more hidden resentments. It’s all laid out on the table, so I can fix it, or fix me. Whatever I did wrong, I mean.”

Regulus slowly and intentionally wrapped his fingers around James’s wrists, then jerked him forward until their faces were no more than a breath apart. “You know what I find fascinating about you, James?”

“I’m fit as fuck.”

A lethal grin slid over Regulus’s face as he wrapped James’s arms around his waist, still holding his wrists hostage behind his back. “Your looks may have drawn my attention, but it was how openly expressive you are when you sing that kept me from smacking that smug grin off of your handsome face. No, what I find fascinating about you is that you are both exquisitely self-aware and oblivious at the same time.”

James frowned. “Oblivious to what?”

“That you use anger as foreplay and sex as aftercare.”

“I…well, uh, that’s not…” James spluttered, reflexively tightening his hold on Regulus to ground himself. His thoughts spun wildly, arguing both for and against Regulus’s assessment. “Hold on, what are you saying?”

Regulus ghosted his lips over James’s, his fingers gently trailing up James’s arms until his arms circled James’s neck. He pressed his bare chest to James and whispered, “You’re a kinky bastard, James Potter, and while I appreciate an angry fuck as much as the next bloke…”

James inhaled sharply, heat suffusing his face and neck. How does he do that?

“...I am not your therapist, and I refuse to ride an emotional roller coaster because you want clarity. If you start a row with me, you better be prepared to throw hands, not just words. I fight dirty, and I don’t forgive easily. If you want me, you have to use that big mouth of yours to speak your mind, instead of picking fights like a child,” Regulus said pointedly. 

Then, before James could speak, Regulus kissed him. He licked into James’s gaping mouth and claimed it for himself. It wasn’t violent or demanding, simply a confident statement of fact. James was his, full stop.

Without hesitation, James met him halfway in a full surrender. He couldn’t argue with Regulus, even if he wanted to, which strangely…he didn’t. All he wanted was to chase this high for as long as he could. Regulus’s lips were intoxicating, and James was dopamine fiend. 

We’re practically made for each other, he mused. 

Regulus stepped back without breaking the kiss, and dragged James with him. James didn’t register where they were headed until they tumbled onto his bed in a jumble of limbs. How bloody convenient that they were already in his bedroom? Brilliant luck, that.

“Off, take it off,” Regulus ordered, tugging at James’s shirt. “Let me see you.”

“Assessing the band’s marketing strategy for yourself?” James asked. He smirked as he pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it over his head, then braced his knees on either side of Regulus’s hips. “Sirius may have mentioned you were impressed.”

Regulus stroked his hands over James’s chest and shoulders. “You have certainly perfected your brand, I’ll give you that.”

“Try not to swoon, all right?” James teased, flexing a little beneath his eager fingers. “I’m not responsible for any damages you incur by lusting after me.”

“Do I need to sign a release to ride your cock, or is that covered in your warning sticker?” Regulus unbuckled James’s belt lightning fast, proof that he was taunting earlier with his own. 

Before he could call him out for it, Regulus had unbuttoned James’s jeans and slipped his hand down the front of his pants. His slender, elegant fingers danced over James’s overheated skin and skipped his half-hard dick to cup his bollocks. James gasped, his hips thrusting automatically to get more, more, more moremoremore!

Regulus watched him intently. “You’re so sensitive. What was that about swooning?”

“Fuck…you,” James forced out. He nearly choked when Regulus finally wrapped his hand around his dick. His breaths stuttered out in a hiss, “Y-Yes, y-yes!”

“If you’re really sweet, I’ll fuck you later.”

James’s dick twitched hard, and his brain abruptly short-circuited. He stared down at Regulus, unsure if there was enough blood circulating through his head to process the concept, or if he was actually interested in bottoming. “Oh. I’ve never…I mean, I’ve thought about it, but…shit, that feels good.”

Regulus didn’t slow his strokes as he studied James. His fingers offered just enough sensation to taunt James, but not enough to get him off. It was a master class in control, one that James was learning very little from at the moment. His thoughts were silenced with each delicious, firm squeeze at the base of his dick before Regulus gentled his hold on the way up. Every time James rolled his hips, Regulus’s other hand gripped his thigh hard enough to leave bruises.

Fingertip-shaped bruises on my thighs. Would he mark me up, if I asked? 

The thought hit him harder than he expected, sending a rush of pleasure straight to his core. James moaned, letting his head fall back as he rutted into the circle of Regulus’s hand. He let his hands drift over his own chest, pinching his nipples and scraping his short, blunt nails over his skin to distract himself from the building tension. Not yet, not yet. I need more!

“You are an enigma,” Regulus said, his voice breathless. “Just when I think I have you all figured out, you surprise me again.”

“Reg-Regulus. I want…to feel you…”

The hand on his thigh disappeared and a frantic scramble pulled him out of his lust-filled daze. Regulus was attempting to unbutton his own trousers one-handed, but couldn’t wedge his hand between their bodies. James reluctantly pulled away from him, shucking his own pants and jeans on the floor while Regulus awkwardly wriggled free of his remaining clothes. When he looked up, Regulus was sprawled over his bed, stroking himself idly as he looked James over. 

“Eager?” James teased, climbing back on the bed with the lube from his nightstand. He tucked his knees under Regulus’s thighs, propped Regulus’s legs around his own waist, and swatted his hand away as he tossed a condom on the bed. “My turn.”

I knew he was fit, but damn.

When his wild imagination had pictured Regulus naked, James hadn’t given the bloke enough credit. While he wasn’t especially muscular, Regulus wasn’t a waif either. His arms and chest were fairly well defined, while his belly and hips were soft and smooth. James intended to explore every inch of him when he wasn’t quite so eager himself. 

He looks like he belongs here, in my bed. Struck silent by the thought, James blinked rapidly as he tried to refocus his thoughts. The last thing he needed was to spiral over the future, or hope for one in the first place. 

“Hey,” Regulus said, curling forward to hook both hands under James’s thighs. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no. I’m just…distracted.” James tore his gaze away from the small mole on Regulus’s collarbone, only to find he’d filled his palm with lube. “Well, shit.”

Regulus’s mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Now who’s eager?”

James fumbled with the tube, finally snapping it closed and tossing it back at the nightstand. He refused to concede control while holding an absurd handful of lube. “Would you rather I was stingy?”

“Would it kill you to admit that you’re nervous too?”

“Too? You’re nervous? Should we stop?” James asked, sitting back on his heels. 

Regulus huffed in exasperation and swatted James’s thigh. “No, you twit! I just meant that it’s the first time we’ve gone this far. You don’t have to pretend it’s easy, if it’s not.”

If anything, it’s too easy. Far too easy to slip into his arms and lose myself.

“That is not what I was thinking about, actually.” James slathered lube over their dicks, then wrapped his clean hand around both and squeezed. With each slow, firm stroke, he maintained eye contact while his other hand circled Regulus’s hole teasingly. “I was wondering why you shut down rather than defend yourself. That can’t be healthy.”

“Don’t you dare psychoanalyze me with your hand on my dick,” Regulus said, bending his left leg to his chest and rocking his hips. “Gods, your hands. I knew it would feel good, but…fuck.”

James closed his eyes and surrendered to the heat licking up his spine, just for a moment. Their hard lengths velvet soft against his palm and the slight give of Regulus’s hole as it opened him up made him dizzy with need. He leaned closer and kissed Regulus hungrily, his hands between their bodies as he sped up. Regulus clung to him and stifled a moan.

“Let me hear you,” James whispered, breathing heavily against his lips before capturing them again. He swallowed every whine and gasp, tasting the sounds at the source. 

They’re movements were erratic now, and the small, chastising voice in the back of his mind was quickly drowned out by the increasingly desperate cries for release that filled the room. James’s bollocks slapped noisily against Regulus’s perineum with each thrust. Regulus threw his head back, exposing the pale, elegant neck that begged to be marked. It’s too perfect.

James kissed along his jaw, nibbling at his ear lobe before latching on just below it. With his face buried in Regulus’s neck, James breathed him in. Beyond the sweat-slicked skin, he was delighted to find a tangy, yet sweet smell that sort of reminded him of chili chocolate. James couldn’t help himself. His tongue trailed down the side of Regulus’s neck on its own.

Regulus shivered, then clamped his legs tight around James’s waist. “Damn it, James, get in now.”

“No,” James said, grinning cheekily as he sat up. “Not yet.”

“James.”

“Regulus.”

Without warning, Regulus roughly kneed James in the side and rolled both of them over. Staring up at him in surprise, James blinked, violently dragged from his euphoria to face rather beautiful consequences. He hadn’t expected Regulus to call his bluff, but it wasn’t the first time Regulus had manhandled him. Well, I’m fucked. James smirked at the thought.

“I said ‘now,’” Regulus snapped, grabbing James’s wrists and placing them firmly on his hips. He grabbed the condom and ripped it open. “Enough of your teasing. I’ve waited too long for this to be toyed with.”

James glanced down at Regulus’s swollen, twitching dick and internally congratulated himself. He’d pushed Regulus’s buttons all right, and ended up on his back for his trouble. I’ll have to remember that, if there is a next time. He kneaded the soft flesh of Regulus’s hips as Regulus slid the condom on him. Gods, James wanted there to be a next time.

“So impatient,” James said as he leaned up to sneak a kiss. “Can I psychoanalyze you now? I’m not touching your dick.”

“I swear, James, if you don’t leave it…” Regulus trailed off, sinking onto James’s dick with a loud groan. Inch by inch, he lowered his hips, panting heavily. “For the love of…gods, finally!”

Regulus moaned his name as he began to ride, nearly wrenching what little self-control James still had out of his grasp. Pleasure set every nerve in his body alight, and he knew he wouldn’t last long if they kept this up. It was too fast, and felt too fucking good.  

James tried to slow the pace, rolling his hips and grinding against that stunning arse instead, but Regulus wouldn’t have it. He demanded “more” until James pressed his thumbs into the apex of Regulus’s hips and thrust up into him. They moved in tandem then, their bodies syncing as if they were built for each other. Maybe they were?

He didn’t believe in a higher power, but Regulus’s mere existence tested his lack of faith. Gods weren’t real, and yet, here was a deity worthy of worship within arms reach. Touching Regulus was as close to the divine as he was likely to ever be. Bringing Regulus to the brink of ecstasy, over and over, just to see lightning flash in his eyes was the only salvation that James needed.

Worst of all, Regulus must know it too. His silver tongue dripped with devotion that James didn’t deserve. A hymn that James wasn’t meant to hear, but had craved all the same. “You’re everything that I want, but didn’t think I’d find,” was whispered under Regulus’s breath like a prayer.

How can he say that knowing what a mess I am?

“I-I can’t…James, I’m so close!” Regulus’s thighs shook as he fell forward, bracing himself on James’s shoulders and riding hard. A deep flush climbed Regulus’s heaving chest as he kissed him. It was frantic and messy and perfect. “Ngh…I-I need…ah! Please, James.”

I’d do anything. Anything for you. 

Barely formed pleas and tear-filled eyes finally broke James out of his revelry. He braced his feet on the bed and clutched Regulus’s arse with both hands, pounding into him with everything he had left. His muscles trembled with the effort to remain on the edge, walking the cliff as the wind threatened to push him over. “Let go, Regulus.”

Regulus stroked himself twice, then cried out as he clenched hard, strangling James into submission and sending him flying over the edge. James clung to Regulus, hips stuttering as the waves of release dragged him under. Stars exploded behind his eyes as his body caught fire, hurtling his broken spirit into the abyss with no hope for a soft landing.

When they collapsed, exhausted and sated, James held on for dear life. He immediately realized that he’d gone too far. The crash was going to hurt, and he was determined to push it off as long as possible. Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave.

A long, tense silence fell between them as they waited for their hearts to slow and their breathing to return to normal. It was as if he and Regulus were equally afraid to speak and break the tenuous connection, a fragile ribbon tying them together. Slowly, the sounds of the world outside of James’s room began to filter in. The hum of the refrigerator was soothing white noise. The whisper of a branch against his window was like an old friend, welcoming him home.

“James?” Regulus asked eventually, nudging his nose against James’s neck. “Did you fall asleep?”

“Not yet.”

“Can I…” Regulus inhaled deeply. “Can I stay here tonight?” 

The trepidation in his voice made James pause, even though he couldn’t think of a single reason to say ‘no.’ For one thing, he was rather comfortable sprawled on top of Regulus with his head resting on his chest. For another, James’s heart was no longer locked away in his chest, where it was safe. Instead the fool thing had leapt out to sit at Regulus’s feet, a wounded warrior seeking respite from a snarky, but benevolent god. Don’t get your hopes up, arsehole.

“You’d better,” James grumbled, hugging Regulus’s waist, “because I’m not moving.”

Regulus hummed in approval as he brushed James’s sweaty curls away from his forehead. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

Pleased, James fully relaxed and closed his eyes. As he allowed himself to drift off to sleep, he smiled. Forever is good.  

Regulus couldn’t sleep, but he pretended to for a while, at least until he was reasonably sure that James was. The buzzing in his brain had started as the residual bliss of his orgasm faded away. We had mind-blowing sex, but now what? 

He wanted to believe that this changed things between them and that James was his now. For a brief moment, he even allowed himself to imagine it was true. Here he was in the enviable position that his past self would have killed to be in, laying in bed fully sated with a very naked James Potter using him as a pillow, and he was spiraling anyway. Regulus sighed, annoyed that his brain insisted on ruining the perfect moment. Why can’t I just let myself have this? 

The answer was complicated, and he wasn’t in the mood to sort through it, but his brain wouldn’t leave it alone. James had let him stay the night, that meant something, right? Although they’d done little more than argue yesterday before having sex, which James admitted to enjoying. Perhaps a row was how he started all of his liaisons. Regulus’s mind circled the conundrum that was James Potter until he passed out, sometime after midnight.

The next morning, he awoke to an empty bed. It was jarring, at first, to find himself twisted up in deep maroon sheets with his face pressed into a pillow. Until the scent of sandalwood soap and a musk that was uniquely James filled his lungs. Right, I stayed the night with James.

A satisfied grin slid over his face as he stretched his arms up over his head. Unlike the night before, his mind seemed content to revel in the experience rather than spiral. He could scarcely believe it actually happened, let alone that James had brought him to tears. Regulus’s cheeks heated at the reminder of just how lost to the pleasure he’d become by the end. Sex with James was like a speedboat surging over the ocean, increasing speed until he was straddling the line between exhilaration and overwhelm beautifully.

He was considering getting dressed when the bedroom door cracked open and silently swung inside as James slipped through. With overly careful movements, James closed the door and turned with a plate precariously balanced on one hand. 

“Good morning,” Regulus said, amused.

James stumbled and nearly dropped the plate. “Oh! You’re awake…erm, morning?”

Regulus eyed the plate pointedly, prompting James to explain. He didn’t want to assume it was for him, and have James laugh at his expense. That’s what Sirius would do, and had done, when they were kids. “What’s that?”

“Sirius said you liked pastries for breakfast, but I had already started making dosa.” James’s smile wavered a bit as he made his way across the room. “I normally put spiced potatoes or veg inside, but I figured…this was a compromise?”

Is he nervous? Interesting.

“I’m surprised you know the meaning of that word,” Regulus teased, accepting the plate. When James huffed, likely intending to argue, Regulus grabbed his wrist and tugged him into the bed. “Show me how to eat it.”

James’s grin widened as he eagerly climbed in beside him. “That’s greek yogurt and fruit, obviously, which I figured would taste a bit like a crepe if you wrapped it up. Just spoon it in like this and add a little of the yogurt, then roll.” 

He held it out to Regulus to take a bite, and he did. Regulus was surprised to find it was quite good. There was a little tang of lemon in there as well, and it was the perfect amount of sweetness. 

“What do you think?” James asked. 

“It’s delicious! Are you having some?” 

James sighed with relief, plopping the pasty onto the plate, then playfully dabbing yogurt on Regulus’s nose. “No, I ate a half-dozen or so earlier.”

Regulus rolled his eyes as he reached up to clean off the yogurt. He should have expected that. The likelihood that a friend of his brother wasn’t a menace was pretty low.

“No, leave it,” James said, brushing his hand away. 

“Why? So you can have a laugh?”

James smirked as he leaned in, licked the yogurt off, and kissed his nose. “I would never.”

Startled, Regulus touched his nose reflexively. “Wh-What was that for?”

“I wanted to,” James said. He flopped back on the bed and tossed his arm over his eyes. “Don’t you ever do that, Regulus? Do something just for the hell of it?”

“Well, yes. I agreed to write for your band,” he admitted, watching James from the corner of his eye. 

The awkward tension was impossible to ignore, but Regulus didn’t regret anything. For too long, he’d allowed a fear of reprisals from fans, his parents, and the music industry to influence his personal decisions. As far as Regulus was concerned, this was worth the effort, even if it never happened again.

When James didn’t respond, Regulus refocused on his breakfast. He toyed with a raspberry, gently stamping it into the yogurt to create little honeycomb-like prints on the plate. He felt a bit guilty for making a mess and wasting the food, but he couldn’t bring himself to continue eating with his stomach twisted in anxiety. 

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Regulus cleared his throat. “James?” 

“Hmm?”

“Is something wrong?”

James peered out from beneath his arm and studied him for a long moment. “You mean besides the fact that I’m a fucking hypocrite and a terrible friend? Nope, all good.”

“Well, if that’s all,” Regulus said, rolling his eyes. 

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have anything to lose. If I fuck things up, I lose my best friend and the band falls apart.”

Regulus twirled the raspberry in the Greek yogurt idly, avoiding James’s gaze. “You’re assuming Sirius would take my side, I’m not so sure about that.”

“You’re his brother,” James said.

“Perhaps, but he likes you better.” Before James could argue the point, Regulus added, “and so do I.”

James grumbled under his breath, but all Regulus heard was “…you say that now.”

“Why do you do that? You sound like that cartoon dog. What was his name? Mumbly?”

“Muttly? As in Dick Dastardly and Muttly? How do you know about that show?” James asked, sitting up abruptly. “Did Sirius—“

“Sirius showed…well, obviously he showed it to you too.” Regulus huffed and turned back to his breakfast. It annoyed him that Sirius shared it with both of them. Watching that stupid cartoon with Sirius was the first thing they did together after they reconnected. It was their thing. 

James leaned closer and stole a blueberry from his plate, popping it in his mouth. “Actually, I introduced him to Wacky Races in uni. I was obsessed with it as a kid.”

Regulus gaped. “You watched it? You showed it to Sirius?”

“Yep,” James said, popping the ‘p’ as he stole the plate from Regulus’s hands. “I hope you’re done with this, ‘cause it’s mine now.”

Dumbfounded, Regulus sat back against the pillows and tried to create some level of order amid the muddle in his mind. Not only had James rerouted the conversation away from his comment about being a “terrible friend” and a “hypocrite,” which he hadn’t explained at all, but he’d derailed a foundational memory that Regulus clung to all through uni. 

He’d watched that cartoon so many times to recreate that moment when his parents interfered with his plans. It didn’t matter which episode, the show itself comforted him. Regulus couldn’t even remember which one they’d watched together back then. The point was simply that they had bonded over the show that James had handed to his brother.

Every time I try to reclaim my world as my own, there he is. In my dreams, my memories, and my fantasies. How is this man real?

James wolfed down the dosa crepe, then set the plate on the night stand. “Do you want to watch it now? I have a pirated copy around here somewhere.”

“Pass.” No fucking way. 

“All right. Ready to explain why you shut down in a confrontation? We never got to that last night,” James said, licking his fingers distractedly. 

The sharp turn in the conversation left him momentarily speechless. Regulus wasn’t even keeping pace at this point, he was chasing James around a track…again. Was this another deflection, or did James really care? Why is he trying to figure me out?

“I’m taking your silence as a ‘no.’” 

James started to stand up, and without thinking, Regulus grabbed his wrist. He couldn’t let this conversation end that easily. Not when James still hadn’t addressed the “hypocrisy” and “bad friend” comment. 

“Hold on,” Regulus forced out. He pulled James back down and climbed into his lap. “Don’t make this about me. You’re the one acting out-of-character. All of your friends are worried about you, James.”

“Yeah, well…” Tucking his head down, James grumbled nonsensically into Regulus’s chest. 

Regulus cradled James’s face in his hands and lifted it until their eyes met. “I want to know why you think you’re a bad friend. Is it because of me? Sirius may not be thrilled with this, but he’d never say that.”

“He should,” James said. “I’m a traitor.”

“We’re not at war, you know that right? Sirius and I are fine.”

James scrunched his nose and looked aside, but didn’t pull away. Instead, his hands wandered up Regulus’s thighs and hips, then squeezed his waist. “I’m not sure how you expect me to talk about Sirius when you’re practically naked and in my lap.”

Regulus flicked his nose to get his attention. “Eyes up here, Potter. I want answers.”

“I want to give you a blowie, so one of us will have to compromise.”

Regulus’s lips twitched as he forced back a smirk. He had to hand it to James, the twit was clever. If this wasn’t a rather important conversation, he would have taken the bait. “Nice try, but I’ll wait for the blowie. This is more important right now.”

James pouted like a puppy that was denied a treat, which nearly broke his resolve. Regulus was only human and the urge to let him have his way when James looked at him like that was tempting. No. I need clarity.

“Talk first, then play,” Regulus offered. “I’m not asking for all of your secrets, but I am willing to listen without judgment.”

“Without judgment? You?”

Regulus ignored the obvious deflection. James was understandably defensive about being called out, he would be too. That didn’t mean Regulus was letting him off the hook. Not when he could practically feel a resolution to this conundrum. If he was patient, perhaps he could pull it from James strand by strand, until he found the other end of the rope James was clinging to.

Eventually, James sighed and flopped onto the pillows. “Fine. I accept your terms, but if I see a single eyebrow raise, I’m stuffing my mouth with dick instead.”

“Very well. Talk.”

James paused, eyes flicking up and away as if he was attempting to piece together his thoughts. It was a disconcerting experience, watching an impulsive, emotionally driven person attempt to force order onto his chaos. There were subtle twists in James’s features as if he was carefully arranging himself into orderly sections, and the process was painful.

“I always thought I’d be a brilliant boyfriend,” James said, frowning at the ceiling. “I care about the people in my life far more than myself, and I’d do anything to make them happy. I memorized the Love Languages when I was twelve in preparation. Yet, every time I started dating someone, I’d let a little too much of myself out and they couldn’t handle it. Either I was too loud, too eager, or just generally too much. When I tried to hold myself back, I was ‘boring’ and ‘annoying.’”

Regulus relaxed his face and pressed his lips together, determined not to interrupt or give away his immediate reactions. It took every ounce of control he had not to defend James from himself. Ridiculous.

“So, I stopped trying to be a brilliant boyfriend and settled for a ‘good boyfriend,’ but that didn’t work either. Either I ‘wasn’t trying hard enough’ or ‘trying too hard.’ When I started dating Lily, she encouraged me to be authentic and genuine with her. Which to me, meant that from time to time, I was allowed to be selfish.” 

James closed his eyes and tipped his head back, rubbing at his forehead with more force than was necessary. “I knew better, but I couldn’t help myself. It was the first time I put myself first. We threw ourselves into the relationship like bulls in heat, fucking and fighting constantly, and it was exhilarating! Until I saw how much it wore her down, and I realized that we weren’t going to last.”

“The final blow,” James said, dragging his hands over his face, “was when the band’s fans started spreading rumors about her online. I don’t even know why they did it, but the slander affected her job. She denies it, but I think she was already looking for a way out. I think she was sick of my shit.”

Silence weighed as heavy as the emotions James was still bottling up, but Regulus didn’t dare to interject and modulated his breathing to remain as quiet as possible. There was a fragility to James’s voice when he talked about Lily, and Regulus heard far more in that than he had in James’s words. He’d risked exposing his darker side as well as his vulnerabilities, hoping that she was the one who could handle it. Given how strong-willed and self-actualized Lily seems to be, I can see why he’d think that.

James rubbed his thumb over the line of his own jaw, as if he was trying to smooth the sting the words left behind. “I guess our break-up reinforced my decision to keep everything inside, but it was too late. Once it was out in the world, all the bull shit refused to go back in. It’s just hanging around me like a bad smell.”

“I’ve tried! I swear, I have,” James insisted, finally meeting Regulus’s gaze. “I write about the dark spirals, cram all of that intensity into my stage performances, and still, I’m a mess. Everyone keeps waiting for me to pull myself together and get better, or move on, but I just can’t.” He shifted a little, dropping his hands to Regulus’s hips and squeezing lightly. “Which is why I said I’m not worth your time. I’m not going to snap out of this ‘funk’ tomorrow, or anytime soon.”

Regulus inhaled deeply, careful to keep his expression neutral. “James, this may not be a ‘funk’ or a ‘spiral.’ You talk about having a ‘dark side’ as though it’s new. What if you just ignored it before? While you were trying so hard to be perfect, perhaps you lost sight of what it meant to be you. The whole you, I mean, not just the ‘acceptable’ version you presented to the world.”

James lifted up onto one elbow, eyes flicking wildly from side to side. “No, I was brilliant before! I had everything under control.”

“Did you? Were you happy in a prison of your own making?”

“It wasn’t like that, my parents are amazing and–” James was abruptly cut off by the blare of a mobile phone. 

Regulus held up one finger and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “It’s Pandora, I have to take this or she will murder me in my sleep.”

“Are all agents so violent?” James huffed a half-hearted laugh. 

“Only the best ones,” Regulus said. “Hello? Yes, I know it was the fourth ring, but I picked it up, didn’t I?”

Pandora was talking far too quickly and her voice had hit an alarmingly high octave for this early in the morning. Regulus could barely understand her as she ranted furiously about a photo. He sorted out that Orion Entertainment was involved, but nothing else.

“Hold on, hold on. What photo, Pandora?”

“Open any social media and you’ll see it, guaranteed. They practically wallpapered the internet with it! I can’t believe they’d sink so low when their own sales of your music will tank with your reputation, not to mention sheer courtesy for family! It’s mad! Dorcas is on a rampage, and is threatening to sue every employee down to the janitor to find out who took the photo,” Pandora said, near to bursting with panic. “This could ruin everything you’ve worked for, Reg! All future clients and collaborations…poof! Gone!”

Regulus sighed, sliding off of James’s lap and beginning the search for his clothes from the night before. “Breathe, Panda. What photo?”

“You and Potter! I can’t believe…in an alley of all the…does privacy mean nothing…” Pandora’s voice was interrupted by loud noises in the background. She stopped, muffled the phone, and shouted, “If you don’t shut it, I will shut it for you!”

“All right, I’m coming back to the flat now. We’ll figure it out together,” Regulus said, as soon as he heard her frustrated breathing again. He tucked the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he awkwardly fastened his trousers. “Don’t panic yet.”

“Too late. You’re either going to have to publicly date that bastard or he’ll have to make a pretty compelling statement of consent,” she said, clearly exhausted. “Reg, hurry up and come home before I strangle your roommates.”

James tossed a maroon hoodie with big gold numbers on the back at Regulus and threw open the door. “Put that on, I’ll find your shirt later.”

Regulus took one look at the rugby team sweatshirt with James’s last name emblazoned across the chest in an actual graphic of fire and immediately put it on. It was soft and a little worn out, so he assumed it must be one of James’s favorites. The moment it went over his head, Regulus was drowning in James’s earthy scent all over again. I am definitely stealing this.

“I’ll drive you over,” James said, grabbing keys from the hook by the door.

“You don’t have to do that, I can call a driver and—”

James shooed him out the front door and locked it. “Nah, I heard my name in that rant, so I’m coming too. Besides, I don’t want to be here when Lily shows up.”

“Why?” 

“Because she’s going to give me that disappointed look again, and I can only handle one per week.”

Regulus bit his cheek to hide a grin at the mental image of the whole band cowering under Lily’s glare. A smile that vanished the moment he clicked on the TikTok icon. The very first video that popped up featured a clear image of him shoving James against the wall with a knife to his throat. Since when do mobile phones take photos this clear?

“Former concert virtuoso turned freelance songwriter, Regulus Black, has been caught on camera wielding a knife on an unknown man in an alley outside of a popular pub on the outskirts of London,” the blond man announced, flashing a bright smile. “Orion Entertainment has posted a statement questioning Regulus’s mental health and claims that his recent behavior may be drug-related.”

“What the hell?” Regulus said, swiping up to find video after video repeating the same story. 

James snorted derisively. “Oh, nice. I'm an ‘unknown man’ when they’re slandering you, but ‘an up-and-coming performer’ when they went after Lily. Maybe it’s a curse. That’s it, I’m cursed to ruin anyone I’m seen with. I did try to warn you.”

“Shut it. You’re not cursed,” Regulus replied. He quickly searched for James’s name, curious if any of the band’s fans had figured it out yet. Of course they have. Damn it.

A rough looking woman with a smoker’s cough pointed at the photo behind her. “You lot have been bangin’ on about this git here, right? That’s Potter, and he plays guitar for ‘The Bangers,’ as the fans call them. Don’t think they have a real name.”

The next video was a teenager who was analyzing their body language and proudly announced that they were clearly lifelong enemies, which was followed by a middle-aged woman gushing about potential ship names and proclaiming she was drawing fan-art of them. James burst out laughing and nearly collided with a woman pushing a pram. Regulus grabbed his arm and jerked him out of the way at the last minute. 

“That’s enough of that. Let’s go,” Regulus said, heading toward the band’s van.

James pulled him back the opposite direction with a playful grin. “I can’t escort the Regulus Black of TikTok fame and fancified concertuoso in the van. We’ll take Sirius’s ride.”

“It's concert virtuoso, you twit, and I’m not riding on that death trap he calls a motorcycle.” Regulus staunchly refused to consider it. Even if he wanted to ride around town wrapped around James, after last night’s activities, he was not interested in straddling a motorcycle. 

“All right, all right. We can take the van, but don’t fuss at me if it's gross inside,” James warned, redirecting him toward the driver’s side of the white panel van.

As he climbed in the passenger seat, Regulus had to actively ignore the horrific condition of the vehicle, especially the smell. Caught somewhere between body odor, old curry, and wet dog, the van was far worse than he expected. He immediately cranked the window down all the way and inhaled deeply of the fresh-ish air of London. 

“Did something die in here?” Regulus gasped, snatching the air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror and pressing it to his nose. The faux evergreen scent was barely an improvement.

“Just my pride, thanks,” James quipped. He started the van and quickly merged into traffic. “Tell me where I’m going, or I’ll make it up as we go along.”

Regulus slumped low in his seat and hid his face behind his hands as he directed James to his flat. If Pandora thought he had an image problem now, just wait until he rolled up in a van that smelled like death warmed over. The mere thought that the pungent stench may be leeching into his hair and skin made his stomach roil. What have I gotten myself into?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When Regulus stepped into his flat with James on his heels, three people shouted his name in varying degrees of frustration. Dorcas looked worried, her forehead deeply creased as she sternly reprimanded someone on the phone. Pandora stood at her side, frantically tapping her tablet and appearing to be on the verge of a meltdown. It was Barty who stormed across the room with fire in his eyes, as if he was prepared to confront a cheating lover telanovella style. 

“You!” Barty shouted, pointing at James. “What did you do to him, scumbag? He never attacks first! Bet you forced yourself on him, huh?”

Regulus immediately stepped in front of James and held his hands out. “No! Don’t be an idiot. It was just a demonstration!”

“A demonstration of what? Of how fast you can lose all of your clients?” Dorcas snarked at him. She glared at her mobile phone. “No, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Demonstrating why he didn’t need to protect me,” Regulus corrected calmly. “Leave it, Barty.”

Barty scoffed, “Fuck off. As if you needed protection from me. Who the fuck does he think he is?” 

“Barty, don’t,” Evan called out. He had just jumped up from the sofa when Barty’s arm swung out over Regulus’s head. “No! Idiot.”

Exasperated, Regulus grabbed Barty’s arm with both hands, kicked the back of his knee, and shoved him away before he laid one finger on James. The moment Barty’s back hit the floor, he scrambled to sit upright, spluttering protests. James whistled appreciatively, but stayed out of the way for once.

“You were warned,” Regulus said, pinning Barty’s chest beneath his boot. “I said, ‘leave it,’ and I meant it. Do not touch him.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me!” Barty snapped. He snagged the hem of Regulus’s hoodie in one fist and snarled, “One night with him, and you let him brand you?! Just like that?”

Regulus’s face and neck heated as last night’s fury rekindled in his chest. He was sick of defending himself, particularly to the one person who should trust his judgment. This jilted lover routine was growing old fast. Beyond being unnecessary, it was infuriating that Barty insisted he knew what was better for him than Regulus himself. I won’t live under anyone’s thumb. Never again.

Leaning close, Regulus jammed his boot into Barty’s clavicle. “Let. Me. Go.”

Barty did just that, dropping his arms to the floor and sprawling out. “Go on, Reg. Walk all over me, if that’s what it takes to get it through your thick head that I’ll never stop worrying about you. I don’t care what you do to me, asshole, I’ve had worse.”

Regulus hated how easily Barty could turn things around on him. It wasn’t fair for him to pull the “shit childhood” card just because he was losing a fight. As if they weren’t equally matched on that front. That didn’t mean it wasn’t effective. Regulus eased the pressure on Barty’s chest.

“What’s going on?” Peter appeared behind Evan, eyeing Barty with concern. “Is this normal?”

“Yes,” Evan replied dryly. 

Only then did Regulus take in the truly absurd state of them. Peter, Evan, and Barty were covered in dark bruises and… “Bite marks? Forget about me, what the hell happened to you three?”

Evan and Peter shrugged, then nodded at Barty as if that explained everything. Which, Regulus supposed, was as good an answer as any. He certainly wasn’t interested in hearing the details of whatever was going on in this weird situationship. 

“You’re welcome to join us and find out,” Barty taunted, shoving Regulus’s boot away. He scowled at James when he offered a hand to haul him upright, and grabbed Evan’s instead.

Nervy git. Would it kill him to give James a chance?

“I mean, I’m not opposed,” Peter said, grinning mischievously. “Do you have a problem with that, James?”

James froze. “Uh…”

“Not you too.” Evan rolled his eyes, then grabbed Barty and Peter by the back of their necks and herded them to his room. His voice was flat and unimpressed when he tossed over his shoulder, “Regulus, can you tone down the animal magnetism? The pheromones pumping in this flat are likely to have Barty on his back for a week.”

Barty grumbled, “Me? I’ll put you on your back.”

Peter elbowed him with a devilish smirk. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Get it Pete!” James called, letting out an unnecessarily supportive howl. “I always knew you had it in you!” All three flipped him off before the door slammed closed. 

Dorcas marched across the room and jabbed James in the chest with a dagger-like fingernail. “You are making my life difficult, Potter, and I don’t have time for this. In five words or less, what are you going to do about this mess? I’m assuming that since you’re here, you intend to cooperate in some way?”

“Erm…” James looked at Regulus, then Pandora, then nodded at Dorcas. “What do you need?”

Dorcas tapped his chest lightly. “Good answer. You can keep him, Reg.”

"Thanks?" Regulus replied uncertainly. 

“Ideally, Potter, I'd like a statement that Regulus was not actually attacking you,” Pandora suggested. She stepped closer to Regulus and tugged on the hoodie with a knowing half-smile. “Does this mean the public dating angle is an option?”

James blanched, throwing his hands up in pseudo-surrender. “No! That’s a terrible idea. You have no idea what my…er, the band’s fans are like. They will cannibalize his reputation.”

“Oh good, bring cannibalism into it,” Dorcas said as she began pacing the length of the room. “We haven’t stirred up enough controversy this week.”

“We have to respond to it, don’t we?” Regulus asked, ignoring the absurdity all around him. Everyone was on one today. “Or they will control the narrative.”

“You haven’t even seen the worst of it,” Pandora said, handing over her tablet.

She wrapped an arm around Regulus’s waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was clearly stressed, and trying to remain calm. It wasn’t unusual for her to recharge like this, absorbing energy from him when he was radiating with anger or nerves. A mutually beneficial transfer.

Her tablet’s screen showed the photo in all its glory and was featured at the top of the “Celebrity” news section, along with a statement from Orion Entertainment, Inc. that also included a photo of his new tattoo.

      Celebrity News: Mental Health or Substance Abuse?

      “Orion Entertainment, Inc. has always valued the health and well-being of our talent first and foremost. It is truly unfortunate to hear that one of our former stars has fallen, but not surprising. Needless to say, a reckless pattern of behavior was what led to his termination here at Orion Entertainment, Inc. As you will hear in the recording below, Regulus Black has long struggled with his mental health and resorted to violence in the past. We suspect his behavior is due to contact with unsavory influences, and hope he will seek a remedy soon.”

The audio file below the statement was labeled, Regulus Black’s Tantrum with the date underneath. He didn’t even need to hear it to know what was on the file. It was the argument between himself and his father the day he quit. The row about why his next project had been canceled with explanation. 

While his memory of that day was a little hazy, he remembered threatening to leave and to ruin the company’s name. His shouts of “I hate you” were met with his father’s unusually stony silence after he’d riled Regulus up. It all made sense now though. The bastard was recording me, no wonder he stayed quiet. He set me up.

“If that’s how they want to play this, fine. We’ll go nuclear too,” Regulus announced. He pulled out his mobile, flicked open the numerous unhinged voicemails he’d received over the last few years and handed it to Dorcas. “Do whatever you need to do to refute this.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, glancing over the transcripts for each one. “This is damning evidence, Reg. It really is the nuclear option. Several of these have your father being blatantly homophobic. This could ruin him.”

“If he thinks he can bully me into silence, he doesn’t know me at all. As a matter of fact, ask if Barty can hack this audio file, and I’d bet there’s far more than this on the original recording.”

Both Pandora and Dorcas began talking at once, coordinating releases of information with renewed vigor. Now that they had ammo of their own and license to use it, they seemed eager to rejoin the fight. After James agreed to put out a statement about the photo, they were shuffled into Regulus’s room so the two women could work uninterrupted at the kitchen table.

“This is yours, huh?” James said, idly examining everything in Regulus’s bedroom. His fingers trailed over the frets of the guitar as he stepped close to it, a reverent touch that Regulus almost envied. “This fucking guitar. Can I try it?”

“If you’re careful. It’s the only one I have.” Regulus lifted it from the stand and handed it to James, self-consciously brushing a little dust off of the neck. “What are you going to play?”

James gently laid the guitar over his lap as he settled on the edge of Regulus’s bed. His calloused hands drifted over the strings, plucking idly. “Show me something new. It doesn’t have to be polished or even done.”

Something new? He wants to see my unfinished music?

Regulus hesitantly picked up his small, leather bound journal and flicked through it. He did have a song that he wanted to hear James sing, but it was far from ready for him to see it. Of course, his thumb found the page with no effort. “I don’t have a title yet, but…here. You may see yourself in this one.”

“I don’t care about the lyrics right now, just want a good melody to–” James cut himself off abruptly, his eyebrows soaring up his forehead. “This is… Wow.”

“It’s not what you think,” Regulus blurted. He frantically reached across the guitar to point at the date in the corner. “See? It was a rough time and, well…Barty was always there. Things were…complicated for a while, but we’re just friends now and always.”

James waved him away as he studied the music, his eyes flicking over the lyrics every so often. He wavered between two pages for a while before smoothing it out at the beginning again. After a few minutes of tweaking frets, he pulled out a pick from his pocket and began strumming the opening chords and mumbling to himself. 

“Television burning my eyes, 
nobody here to tell me I’m all right. 
I’m all right. Every second is a lifetime, 
ticking away inside my mind. 
In my mind, I’m just waiting for the ending. 
It’s all hopeless pretending now…let me out.”

His voice was harsher than usual, and a lower tone. Until he reached that last line of the first verse, then it cracked. James paused, tucking the green marbled pick between his teeth as he read through the lyrics more closely. 

If I have to fish that pick out of his mouth, I will. Regulus’s fingers twitched impatiently at his side. He shoved his hands in the hoodie’s pockets to keep them under control. 

Eventually, James looked up, and Regulus was startled to see unshed tears glistening in his eyes. James pulled out the pick and cleared his throat, but the words came out half-choked anyway. “You really do know what it’s like, don’t you? To be…like this? Like…” James’s breath hitched, then he shook his head. “Like me.”

“Yes.” Regulus met his gaze and held it stubbornly. James needed to know that he wasn’t alone in those dark moments. Even if showing him sliced open a long-sealed wound. Even if it exposed the tenderest places in his heart to the light of day. Even if the pain trickled out and stained his chest crimson. It’s worth it, if I reach him. No one should walk through the dark alone.

 “Yeah, I should’ve guessed. You don’t brush the hurt off or pretend it doesn’t exist like Sirius, you hold it hostage. I reckon you cling to it for comfort even.” 

He doesn’t understand, my defenses keep everyone else safe. If I released my pain on the people I love, they’d never survive it. The barricade around his heart was for their protection, not his own. If anything, Regulus held himself hostage behind that iron wall, unwilling to risk another devastating blow. Losing Sirius had left irreparable damage behind. A blow that rebounded through every cell in his body, and permanently rewrote his internal narrative.

“Not comfort, protection,” Regulus said, dropping onto the bed next to him.

James nodded, then wiped at his eyes clumsily. With a shaky breath, he continued singing to himself, as if he hadn’t just prodded at a bruise until it bled. 

“Yeah, I’m going crazy, 
I’ve been running the streets. 
Yeah, I’m going crazy, 
I’m a pounding beat. 

Sick inside but you still see 
the best in me. Oh, I’m going crazy, 
I’m a sign of the times. 

Yeah, my mind is breaking 
while the city ignites. 
Kiss me on the street 
so I can find the best in me…”

Suddenly, James burst out laughing and slapped the side of the guitar. “You’ve done this before! Shoving possessive assholes around is your thing. Here I thought I was special.”

It took Regulus longer than it should have to realize that James was referring to their kiss in the alley. He rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation. “Possessive? Hardly.”

“You didn’t deny it! That is your move, isn’t it?”

“I don’t need a move, Potter.”

James snorted, then gave him a brief once-over. “Yeah, all right. I’ll give you that one.”

“I’ll give you one,” Regulus retorted. Annoyed at the call out, he snatched the pick out of James’s hand and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. “How’s that for a move? Better?”

“You want me to go after it?” James still looked amused, the git. “Because I will.”

Regulus held James’s gaze as he slid his fingers under his own waistband, sending the pick tumbling into his pants. “How about now?”

“Well, fuck,” James said, blinking rapidly. He stared intently at Regulus’s hips, the guitar forgotten in his lap. “I mean, if you’ll let me.”

“No.”

“No?”

Regulus smirked. “Not until you show me your songs.”

“What?! I never said I would show you mine–” James cut himself off, eyes blowing wide at his own admission. “Uh, I meant if I had–”

“I knew it!”

James glanced around the room frantically, his grip tightening on the neck of the guitar. He was a fool if he thought Regulus was going to let this go so easily. One way or another, he intended to convince James to write with him. The intimacy of the thought thrilled him to his core. Sex was fun, but writing together was the true test of chemistry.

“Wait!” James protested, setting the guitar back on its stand. “You can’t just say that like you have proof. I just write angry bullshit, nothing like all of this.” He waved Regulus’s notebook in his face pointedly. 

“So? Did I say–”

James launched himself off the bed and turned away, hands fidgeting nervously behind his back. “I don’t write songs, Regulus, not really. I write gut-wrenching, self-serving monologues that no one needs, or wants, to hear. My nonsensical rants don’t deserve to be in a song.”

“And mine do? You think I don’t have a dozen or so notebooks like this? Filled with utter shit?” Regulus sprawled out on his bed, then propped his head on his hand as casually as possible with a pick digging into his groin. Still worth it. “Practice is part of the process, but so is critique. Besides, it could be cathartic.”

“Cathartic, right,” James said, shaking his head. He didn’t sound convinced. 

Regulus watched the stubborn twat wander his room in silence for a while. Admittedly, he was curious to see what excuse James came up with next. He may be clever, but he didn’t have it in him to play coy. James didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, it was wedged into his mouth. The harder he bit down, trying to stem the bleeding, the harder it was to hold on. His emotions rubbed his insides raw, chafing the tendons of his self-control, until they snapped. 

I can show you how to tame it, if you’ll let me in. Let me save you.

“Where did you get this?” James asked, spinning around so fast that he tripped over his own foot and landed hard on the floor. He winced, then shook it off and held out what looked like an album. “Regulus? Where did, no that’s not, you just…how?”

Regulus frowned, taking the rigid, plastic-wrapped package from him and flipping it over. Staring back at him was a preview of all twelve months of the nearly nude firefighters. March’s fit model eyed him warily from his floor. “Oh, that.”

“Yes, that! Why do you have it? Where did you even find it?” James demanded. He rolled onto his knees and pinned Regulus’s legs against the bed. “What the actual fuck?”

“I didn’t find it, Pandora did.” Regulus pulled out his knife and slit open the wrapping, then carefully slid the calendar out. He flipped to March and hummed appreciatively, tracing the delicious figure of James’s body with his finger. “Very nice.”

James swiped at it, but Regulus was faster. He twisted out of James’s grip and rolled off the other side of the bed. By the time James had scrambled across the mattress, Regulus was on his feet and twirled out of his reach. 

“Regulus! Get back here!” 

“Nice try, Potter!” Regulus climbed up on top of his dresser and held it out of reach. When James grabbed for his legs, he hopped up onto the window sill. Balancing precariously on the narrow ledge, he held the calendar over his head. “It’s mine!”

“All right, all right! You win.” James held up his hands, surrendering far too quickly. "I was only on the volunteer fire brigade for six months. I didn't even know those calendars still existed."

What is he playing at? Suspicious. 

Regulus narrowed his eyes, waiting for the catch. No one gave in that easily. He was definitely up to something. Is it a trick? “What do I win?”

“I won’t take the calendar, I swear,” James said, gaze flicking between Regulus’s face and his feet. “You can keep it. Just get down before you fall.”

“I don’t believe you.”

James winced as if Regulus had slapped him across the face. “Straight for the throat, of course. I almost forgot how stubborn you are.”

“Foolish of you.” Pandora peered inside and smirked. She was as likely to be a menace as her brother when the mood struck her. “Don’t worry, Reg. I bought three copies of it. Wild what you can find on the internet.”

“Three copies? Who the hell are you? A secret agent? MI5?” Despite his exasperation, James hadn’t turned to face her, his eyes remained locked on Regulus. When no one answered, James groaned and let his head fall back. “Fine, keep your secrets. Pandora, I will sign all of your bloody calendars if you make him get down.”

Pandora shrugged. “Didn’t buy them for myself.”

“Pandora, don’t.” 

“I don’t care who the calendars are for–wait, what?” James glanced over his shoulder, then back at Regulus.

“You didn’t tell him? I assumed he finally figured it out after that song you wrote about shagging him senseless. With an ego as big as his?” Pandora taunted, silently daring Regulus to push his luck. She had him cornered, and she knew it. “Keep acting like a fool and I’ll treat you like one.”

Regulus scowled. “Leave it.” 

“What does that mean?” James asked.

“Reg is obsessed with you.”

Regulus gasped, “Pandora!”

James spluttered in protest, then quickly backed away. He looked back and forth as if unsure which one was more dangerous.

No! She’s ruining everything! Please, don’t run again.

Regulus crouched low and visually assessed the distance to his bed. He was pretty sure that he could make it, if he put extra power behind the jump. Then, all he had to do was safely slip his calendar in with his albums and strangle his best friend. 

“Don’t you dare,” Pandora warned, her smirk replaced with a glare in an instant. “If you hurt yourself, I will be furious. Do you hear me, Regulus Arcturus Black?”

“All three names? What did he do now?” Dorcas poked her head in, then disappeared. “Nope. I didn’t see that. I didn’t see anything.”

Regulus ignored them, shifting his stance for better stability. One big jump, he could do this. He leaned on his back foot, testing his balance. Easy. If I can climb out of a two story window, I can do this.

The wood let out a loud creak beneath him, panic propelling him forward. As soon as he pushed off, Regulus was abruptly snatched off the window sill and crushed against a solid chest. He flailed, far more concerned about the empty air he was now dangling in than the leap he was prepared to make. “Let go! I could have made it!”

“No, you wouldn’t have. Now, settle down,” James said, his voice low and grumbly against Regulus’s shoulder. “Stop struggling, or we’ll both fall.”

Regulus glanced down and sighed in defeat. All of James’s impressive six foot frame stood on top of his dresser. He likely sneaked up behind Regulus while he was distracted, the fit bastard was more flexible than he expected. “Fine.”

“Thank the goddess.” Pandora tugged at Regulus’s hand, openly relieved. “What were you thinking? If you ever scare me like that again, I will sick Barty on you! You could have–”

“That’s not necessary,” James interrupted. He slowly lowered Regulus to the floor, then hopped down behind him. “I handled it. Can we have a minute, Pandora?”

Pandora blinked, startled out of her lecture by James’s blasé tone. She met Regulus’s gaze and arched her eyebrow. “Well?”

“Go on.”

The moment the door was closed, Regulus bolted across the room and hid the calendar in a rack of records. James didn’t chase him this time though. He propped his hip against the dresser and studied him like a fascinating bug he’d found under a rock. The tension between the two of them was back, and Regulus hated it. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? Why did he get so panicked?

Determinedly looking away from James’s intense stare, Regulus eyed the distance he’d intended to jump, and realized that he’d misjudged it. From his perch in the window, it looked entirely feasible. A quick jump, nothing more. From the ground, less so. 

He had also failed to notice that his guitar was standing beside the bed still, directly aligned with…his likely fall. Which also happened to be where James had stood mere minutes ago. Merde, I could have smashed it. He knew I was going to miss.

“’Middle of the Night,’” James said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Did you write that about me? Lily thinks you did, and clearly Pandora agrees.”

Regulus considered lying, but there wasn’t much point now. Not after Pandora called him out for being obsessed. A spurious allegation, obviously. He wasn’t obsessed, but this was probably just a physical thing for James. Once he got it out of his system, James would lose interest, and it would be over. Unless he thinks I’m stalking him. 

“You were one of my inspirations, yes,” Regulus said, watching James from the corner of his eye. “None of my songs are only about one thing, or one person.” Liar.

“And the calendar? Sorry, calendars. She said there were three, yes?” James stepped closer and caught his eye. “Why do you need three?”

Regulus chewed the inside of his cheek. There was a solid chance James would be horrified to know it was wank-fodder. Then again, maybe not. “In case I made a mess of it.”

James’s curious expression slipped, replaced by one that was mortifyingly smug. “You really are obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

“No. You just think entirely too highly of yourself and–”

“I call bullshit,” James said, crowding Regulus against the wall. “You know, it’s rather flattering.”

Regulus huffed, ignoring his body’s reaction to their proximity. “Your ego is out of control.”

“My ego? Is that what we’re calling it? Oh, that reminds me.” James slipped his hand between them and cupped Regulus’s half-hard erection. “I’m going to need that pick back.”

Regulus’s breath caught, releasing in a slow hiss as James’s hand slid under his trousers and stroked his dick once, twice… Then, he pulled his hand out and held up the pick. James stared into his soul as he took the pick between his teeth, and winked. 

“Found it.”

The next few days went by in a blur for James. Pandora and Dorcas managed to smack Orion Entertainment, Inc. down a peg or two so they’d keep their mouths shut, but they hadn’t gone entirely nuclear. Lily’s lecture had been more of an indulgent eye roll than a scolding, and Sirius had opted for blissful ignorance rather than ask why his brother was suddenly hanging around their flat.

In fact, James hadn’t felt this… normal in months. 

What was particularly unusual, was that he didn’t need to analyze the situation to figure out why. It started when Regulus showed up at that first practice session, and had only become more prevalent since then. James assumed he was thrown off by irritation and frustration with the interruption to their practice routine, which was certainly a part of it, but this shift was more than that. 

I feel like myself again. A little better, even.

Somehow, James had found truly neutral ground. Around Regulus, whose antics and snarky banter rivaled James’s own, he allowed himself to snark right back. He didn’t have to be on his best behavior with Regulus. If he didn’t like what James was doing or had said, he’d tell him. Simple and direct, no guessing. When James was grumpy, Regulus let him be grumpy. He didn’t ask James to cosplay happiness, and was content to entertain himself nearby rather than require James’s full attention at all times, like Sirius.

I’ve never met anyone like him before. Regulus doesn’t need me, he wants me around. It was nice to be needed sometimes, but this was better. 

As he drove the van to their regular practice space, James wondered what it would be like to date Regulus. An idle thought that seemed to pop into his head when he least expected it. Would Regulus be more needy than Sirius then, or less? Was he open to PDA, or prefer to keep things quiet? How often would they argue? Did Regulus have any kinks?

It was that last thought that nearly got him in trouble. He’d released a small chuckle at his own distracted mind’s wandering, which immediately drew Sirius’s attention. Within seconds, he’d fully turned in his seat and focused on James with a shrewd frown.

“What’s gotten into you? Why are you so giggly today?” he asked, poking James’s shoulder repeatedly. 

“I’m not. Don’t know what you’re talking about,” James replied with a shrug. “It’s a nice day.”

Sirius leaned in closer, then glanced back as if rallying the troops in support. “Are you high?”

“No, Sirius. I’m fine. Really, really fine, and it’s nice to feel fine. You know? It’s just…”

“Do not say ‘fine’ again,” Sirius huffed. “You sound high.”

James shrugged. “On endorphins, maybe?”

“Why? What did you do?”

“Went for a run this morning,” James said, flicking the turn signal before rolling into the warehouse's car park. “It’s been a while, but it felt good to get out and burn off—what the hell?”

At the main entrance stood a mob of reporters who were hounding Regulus and Pandora as they climbed out of the black town car they’d arrived in. Immediately, a stab of guilt sank deep in his chest. It was happening again, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The media would slander Regulus for his connection with the band, connection with him. 

Then, James would be right back where he started, lonely and miserable. He enjoyed orbiting Regulus. He was drawn to him like a rogue planet that finally found its star.

“Did you see them?” Peter asked, popping his head between the front two seats. “Evan and Barty are playing security thugs for Regulus today. I reckon Evan’s a natural, rugby lad and all.”

Sirius stared at him, slightly bewildered. “Is that really a thing? You and…them? You’re dating?”

“Well, labels are in negotiations at the moment.”

James couldn’t help but laugh as Sirius’s expression shifted to fully incredulous. It was an apt response for the chaos he’d seen unfold first-hand at Regulus’s flat. Peter fit right in somehow, offering stability for Evan and a moderator for Barty. I don’t know how it works, but it works.

“Right, whatever,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “Let’s deal with the vultures so they’ll leave Reggie alone.”

Remus cleared his throat. “How are we meant to do that, exactly?”

“By bullying them into submission, obviously,” James teased. “That’s Sirius’s specialty.”

Peter and Remus laughed, while Sirius shoved his shoulder in retaliation. After the van was parked and unloaded, they made their way toward the throng of reporters with trepidation. This was the first time their band had drawn media attention, and it was for all the wrong reasons. Or rather, for personal reasons.

James hated this. The shouts, camera flashes, and the press of bodies was even worse than pandering to fans after a show. He wanted a clear delineation of his life into public and private. When he stepped on that stage, he was their puppet, but the moment he stepped off, he was just another man on the street. Is that too much to ask?

“Potter! Is it true that you were threatened?” a voice called.

Ignore them, Dorcas had advised.

“Fuck off,” Peter yelled, struggling to navigate with pieces of Sirius’s drum kit in hand. “Mind your own.”

Cameras clicked and the crowd surged as they neared the front entrance. “James, over here! Did he cut you?”

Don’t look at the cameras, Regulus had said. Photos with direct eye contact sell for more.

“Why were you fighting?” Flash. Flash. Flash. Cameras went wild once the four of them had reached the door.

“Is Regulus Black a public threat?”

Be polite, Lily had insisted. No fighting.

Sirius turned around and scoffed, “No, he’s a talented songwriter and performer. You lot are the public threat. Get out of the way!”

The paparazzi were undeterred, shoving each other to get closer and crushing them against the wall. Cameras and microphones were everywhere, desperately thrust in their faces in hopes of catching an elusive sound bite. They were baiting the band to provoke a reaction.

“Sirius! Orion Entertainment says Regulus is on drugs! Is that true?” a man asked, waving a hand in Sirius’s face.

Don’t feed the snakes, Pandora had advised. 

“No! Are you taking the piss right now, or are you really that ignorant?” Sirius snapped, using his  drum kit to push the invaders back. “Why don’t you ask Orion Black why his sons can’t stand him? Ask him why a brilliant musician like Reggie was treated like trash!” 

Remus wrangled the door open and helped Peter through, then grabbed Sirius by the collar and dragged him into the warehouse as well. As James turned to follow them, the reporters surrounded him, wedging the door shut. They were everywhere, shouting at him and shoving cameras in his face. He was trapped.

James tried to avoid looking at the cameras, but it was impossible when the crowd was so close. His guitar case was his only shield from their greedy eyes and grasping hands. They wanted to tear him apart and steal a piece of him for a trophy. To sell him to the masses as a prime cut of beef. Blood thirsty cannibals.

“We heard Regulus is gay!” a woman suddenly shouted giddily. Her smile was bright red and her eyes devoured him hungrily. “Are you gay? Was the knife a kink thing?”

Don’t react. Don’t give them what they want. 

“He’s a violent twink! Better watch your arse, Potter!” Several people laughed and made rude hand gestures.

James pushed a couple of paparazzi aside to get to the door, refusing to rise to the bait. They didn’t know anything about him and Regulus. They couldn’t. It was speculation.

“Did Regulus force himself on you?” a man asked. He was standing so close that James could smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“Did you force yourself on your mum, or just your sister?” James retorted, forcefully pulling open the door and sliding his guitar inside. “What a pissant.”

Thankfully, Evan and Remus appeared on the other side and took his guitar case. Then, Evan pushed hard at the door so he could slip through. “Come on, Potter. Get in.”

The paparazzi shrieked wildly when they realized he was finally escaping their clutches. Several cursed at him, and at least one tossed out what sounded like a racial slur. James was used to casual displays of racism, this was England after all. It wouldn’t be a proper trip into London if someone didn’t expose their ignorance, one way or another.

“Oi! Fuck off!” Barty called over Evan’s shoulder. He stuck his hand out and flipped them off. “Fuckin’ leeches.”

“Stop it, just ignore—” Evan chided, shouldering him out of the way.

Alcohol breath pushed forward again and sneered. “Starting a harem, Potter? Recruiting a whore like Regulus is a—” 

Too far. This bastard went too far.

The man didn’t get to finish that sentence because James’s fist closed his flapping mouth. Fury exploded out of him in a rush of adrenaline and untapped rage that James didn’t even know he possessed until that moment. All of the nasty accusations that assholes like this slandered Lily with raced through his mind. The press stoked the fire that the fans fed from. While one punch both leveled the reporter and scattered the crowd, the cameras still flashed and they shouted his name. 

He loomed over the man and flexed his shoulders, tempted to curb stomp him. He didn’t, but it was tempting. It wouldn’t stop the madness though. These bottom-feeders would continue to harass him and Regulus as long as the photos and gossip entertained the masses.

James sneered at the middle-aged man sprawled on the pavement. His lip was bloody and a bruise was already forming on his jaw. “Watch your mouth, madarchod.”

“Shit!” Evan shouldered the door open and hooked his elbow under James’s arm. “Enough, Potter. Get inside, now!”

He allowed Evan to drag him into the warehouse, but he kept his gaze locked on the man. Subconsciously, he knew it was stupid to fight with the press. It was futile, but this time was entirely worth it. 

The door slammed shut behind them, and Barty braced himself against it. His intense gaze followed James as he was manhandled into the practice area. Is he still jealous? 

“James! You’re bleeding again,” Sirius said, cursing under his breath as he grabbed James’s wrist. “You idiot, your hand wasn’t healed yet.”

Regulus appeared out of nowhere and shooed his brother away. “I’ll handle it. Get the first aid kit from Pandora, Sirius.” 

The moment Sirius turned, Regulus grabbed a handful of James’s jacket and hauled him down to his eye level. At first, James thought he was going to kiss him. Regulus stared at his mouth for a long time before meeting his eyes. “What did I tell you about putting yourself in the line of fire, Potter?”

James winced. He was only “Potter” when Regulus was annoyed with him now. “That you can defend yourself, and don’t need my help. But, this wasn’t just about you. They were slandering me too!”

“You didn’t start throwing fists until that prick called me a whore,” Regulus pointed out calmly. His grip on James’s jacket eased and he moved to step away. James wanted to pull him close again, but everyone was watching. 

“And he said that I was creating a harem. That’s offensive as fuck.”

"What the fuck?" Regulus gasped, eyes wide.

Sirius grimaced as he held open the first aid kit. “Yeah, that's a valid point. I’d have punched him too.”

“Yes, but everyone already knows you’re mental,” Regulus snarked at his brother. He wrapped James’s knuckles with quick, precise movements, just like last time. With a scowl, he tucked the end of the bandage in and released James’s hand. “Try not to let these paps ruin your day, all right? Don't break that open again, will you?”

James watched him walk away, both frustrated and mildly amused. The innate need to defend himself warred with the urge to apologize. He doubted Regulus wanted to hear either one. 

“All right, lads!” Lily called out, clapping her hands to get their attention. “Let’s get started, yeah? We need to film teasers for the collaboration with Regulus, then we’ll have a quick chat.”

A quick chat to discuss the loose cannon in the band. What will we do about him?

It was logical for Lily to wait until after they filmed social media shit to tell him off. She likely didn’t want him to growl at the camera when they were supposed to be showing how excited they were for this opportunity. To be fair, it was an incredible opportunity. Admittedly, he was foolish to dismiss the idea up front. Along with Regulus’s songs, they gained access to his team, who were damn good at their jobs.

“James and Remus, go on and set up the stage. Peter and Sirius, let’s start with you,” Lily said, already in her element behind the camera. 

For most of the morning, James fell into his practice prep routine, running cords and assembling the instruments. Eventually, Remus accused him of “fussing” with the drum kit and shooed him away, so James wandered over to Regulus’s songwriting set-up and arranged the instruments. Knowing that he was the only one allowed to touch Regulus’s guitar made him smile. Not even Pandora was trusted to handle the star-studded ‘93 Gibson.

James couldn’t help but admire the guitar. Beyond his emotional attachment to acoustics, the guitar’s warm, full-bodied tone and the quality of its craftsmanship were incredible. He settled on the couch with the guitar in his lap and tuned it, plucking at the strings gently and listening for the wobble. It was peaceful, and he needed a moment of calm.

He wasn’t sure how long Regulus had been watching, but when James set the guitar onto its stand and looked up, he found Regulus perched on the arm of the other sofa. “Oh, hey Regulus. It’s all ready for you.”

“I see that,” Regulus replied, surveying the set-up. “You put everything where I like it.”

“Where it belongs,” James agreed. He flipped the guitar case closed and moved it out of the way, then waved grandly at the vacated seat. “Your throne awaits, little prince.”

Regulus froze, then slowly lifted to his feet. “Where did you hear that?”

“Where do you think?”

“Sirius told you.” Regulus sighed heavily as he settled into his favorite spot on the sofa. “Remind me to strangle him.”

James grinned. “Nah, it’s cute. My name means ‘supplanter,’ or throne-stealer to the plebs. What do you think the odds are of me being crowned?”

“By whom? The royal family? Zero,” Regulus said. He picked up a drumstick and pointed it at James. “By my brother? About 50-50.”

“Too soon!” James clasped a hand to his chest and threw himself on the opposite sofa. “You’re a cruel, cruel man, Regulus Black. How dare you bring up the one and only time that my best friend betrayed me?”

Regulus huffed, clearly holding back a smile. “You two deserve each other.”

“We really do, don’t we?” Sirius said, hopping over the back of the sofa. He landed on James, knocking the air out of his lungs, then ruffled up his curls. “Stop flirting with my brother and do your job, asshole.”

“I wish flirting with your brother was my job.” James winked at Regulus, then dumped Sirius on the floor. Regulus ducked his head, poorly hiding the smile that slipped out. Delighted, James leaned forward to sneak a kiss and was promptly tackled onto the sofa. “Oof! Piss off, Sirius!”

Sirius smirked, then leaned in and kissed James’s cheek with a loud smack. “There. Now, go play your electric fiddle and pretend you can sing.”

“Fuck. Off.”

Remus walked up behind the sofa and stared down at the two of them, unimpressed. “Would it kill you to act your age?”

“Yes,” Sirius said.

At the same time James replied, “Probably.”

“Pardon the interruption, Regulus,” Remus said, nodding politely. A little too politely, in James’s opinion. “I’ll dispose of your distractions.”

Regulus’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Thank you.”

Without hesitation, Remus pulled harshly on the back of the sofa, knocking it to the floor. James and Sirius spilled out the other side with muffled curses, in a heap of wildly flailing limbs. Regulus snorted a laugh, which he quickly subdued. 

“What the fuck, Remus?” Sirius complained, shoving James aside as he jumped up. 

Remus shrugged noncommittally. “Quit fucking around.”

Determined to settle the score, James grabbed Sirius’s ankle and tripped him. When he collapsed onto the floor at Remus’s feet, James bolted toward the stage. Over his shoulder, he yelled, “Yeah, Sirius! Quit fucking around!”

“I will murder you!” Sirius shouted, shaking his fist in the air. He hadn’t bothered to get up this time, and remained sprawled on his back until Remus offered him a hand.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” When James reached the stage, he planted his feet and bounded over an amp. Immediately, his shoe caught a loose cord and dragged him down. The loud thud of his abrupt landing echoed through the open space like a gunshot. 

“James!” Regulus shrieked. Several sets of footsteps vibrated through the floor. 

A dull ache radiated through James’s hip and shoulder, but it was nothing compared to the shock of pain in his ankle. He pushed himself upright with a groan, grimacing at the mess he’d made of the stage. His guitar had fallen off its stand, both microphones were down, and several pieces of the drum kit had toppled over. 

Peter reached him first, offering him a hand and helping him stand. “Welp, I’m assuming that didn’t go to plan.”

“Correct,” James huffed. “Those bloody cables have it out for me!”

The rest of the group was in pure chaos. Sirius was in the lead, but tripped and crashed into Remus. Lily and Pandora were right behind them, but Regulus had leapt onto the stage.

Regulus reached for James, gray eyes wide and worried. “Are you hurt? What did you break? I heard a snap.”

“Uh, ankle? Maybe?”

“Is it swelling? We should call an ambulance, no! My driver would be faster,” Regulus said. He gingerly patted James down, pausing when he winced. “Your shoulder and hip too? That was a hard fall.”

Peter switched places with Regulus, who hurriedly slipped under James’s arm and braced his back with a firm hold. Reaching down, Peter pulled up James’s pant leg. “Ouch. It doesn’t look broken, but probably a sprain.”

“A&E,” Regulus insisted. “Right away.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Peter argued. 

By the time everyone else reached James, the bickering had become a full on row. He tried to convince Regulus that he just needed to ice it, but he refused to hear it. Peter kept telling him to stand on it, but wouldn’t believe him when he said he couldn’t. James was on the verge of taking a wild leap into Remus’s arms and demanding to be carried away from them both.

“Hey,” Evan said, eventually stepping between Regulus and Peter. “Hey, shut it! You’re both wrong.”

“What?” Regulus’s scowl deepened.

Peter blinked. “Huh?”

“Look. It wasn’t James’s leg that snapped, it was this.” Evan held up a mic stand that was broken in half. “So, he doesn’t need the A&E, Reg. Don’t look so smug, Pete, he is still in a lot of pain. Potter needs to sit and ice that ankle until the swelling goes down.”

Pandora nodded curtly. “I agree. Ev, can you help him over to the sofas? There’s no point in making him stand here.”

“Good idea,” Lily agreed, hovering beside Pandora. “The rest of us can sort out the mess. Peter, can you find another mic stand? Remus, please help Sirius sort out his kit.” The band immediately leapt into action, as if Lily had threatened them instead of asking nicely. Ridiculous.

“Reg, let me support this side,” Evan suggested. “He will squash you if he leans too much.”

“No, no! I have him, it’s fine.”

James chuckled. “You’ll have me all to yourself on the sofa, but I have to get there first.”

“Oh, right. Well…fine,” Regulus said, handing James over and taking a supervisory role instead. “Can you carry him, Ev? He hurt his hip on the other side.”

Evan shrugged, then leaned down, grabbed James around the middle, and hefted him onto his shoulder with a grunt. “Go on. Lead the way, princess.”

“That’s not–”

“This is a limited time offer,” Evan grumbled, stepping unsteadily forward.

James couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. He was draped arse-up over Evan’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry and barely hanging on to what little dignity he had left. Evan was roughly the same size as him, so it was not an easy feat to haul him across the room.

“Are you all right, James?” Regulus asked. 

“I’m…fine.” 

When they reached the sofa, Regulus hurriedly propped it back up on its feet and fluffed the pillows as he directed Evan on where to put him. Instead, Evan turned to the side and dumped him unceremoniously. James was still laughing when he flopped onto the cushions, while Regulus began beating Evan with a pillow.

“I told you to be–” swat “careful–” swat “with–” swat “-him!”

“Okay! That’s the last time I help your bloody boyfriend!”

Regulus’s glare could curdle milk. It was lethal, and threatened far more violence than any of his actions so far, including when he held a knife to James’s throat. He didn’t deny that they were dating, which surprised James, but he didn’t acknowledge it either. 

Why won’t he say it? We’re not dating. It was one night…and half of a hand job. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a remarkably boring week, James was delighted to be in the middle of a compelling drama. Even better, he wasn’t the star of this particular drama. He watched with interest as Lily spent the better part of the afternoon trying to talk Remus into taking the lead for one song.

“No, I’m not singing lead,” Remus said, shaking his head. “I told you, I’lll sing harmony, but that’s all.”

James was proud of him for standing his ground. The pop song in question, “Drag Me Down,” was one of the first songs that Regulus offered them and it was a reach for James stylistically. He’d struggled with it at each of their practices so far, but Sirius swore that he’d cry if he sang it. So, Lily had started in on Remus.

“Remus, just one song,” Lily pleaded. 

He shook his head vehemently. “No. James said I didn’t have to, so I refuse.”

Lily turned to face James, likely with a very logical argument on the tip of her tongue. An argument she was prepared to wield like a weapon, but James was ready for her this time. He didn’t even let her get the words out before redirecting the conversation. “That’s fine, Remus. We don’t have to record this song. It was just the first option. Right, Regulus?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I have a few others written now that we could replace it with,” Regulus said, shuffling a handful of papers. He stopped mid-way through and huffed, “I didn’t mean to bring that one.”

Insatiably curious about everything Regulus wrote, James reached over and snatched it from his hand. “Let me see.”

“It’s too high for you,” Regulus insisted, trying to grab it back. “I wrote it for myself.”

James twisted on the sofa, where he’d been banished all week during practices, and held it out of reach. “Oh, really? Then I’ll give it back, if you sing it for us.”

“You can’t keep doing that,” Regulus protested. He’d caved to James’s teasing about a dozen times this week already out of sympathy for James’s injury, but seemed hesitant in front of Remus and Lily. “I meant for myself in the future, as in the far-off future.”

“Give it here, you twit.” Lily tugged it out of James’s hand and skimmed the page, eyes flicking over the lyrics, then re-read it a second time, slower. Handing it to Remus, her face split open into a wide grin. “Actually, I agree with James. I want to hear this too.”

That sounded ominous. What the hell is this song about?

Remus smirked as he handed it back to Regulus. “Yeah, go on, Reg. Let’s hear it.”

“It’s not finished. I don’t have a second verse or a bridge yet,” Regulus said. He glanced at the song and chewed his bottom lip, the same way he had when he’d heard James sing “Middle of the Night.”

Is this one about me too? About that one tipsy night after the pub, maybe?

At the speed of Regulus’s writing, it could be, and James wasn’t sure he was ready to hear an evaluation of his performance in bed in song-form. They’d enjoyed themselves, but Regulus had a way of tossing subtle criticism into his lyrics. His word choice was always very intentional. If he’s written two songs about me, does that make me his muse? 

“You don’t have to,” James said, waving dismissively. “Is there another–”

“No, that one is great!” Lily shushed him and moved to sit next to Regulus. “Can you just do this bit on guitar?”

Regulus’s gaze flicked over to James, then back to the song as he settled his guitar on his lap. The back of his neck flushed pink, and in that instant, James tamped down his insecurities, and decided he was fine with being Regulus’s muse. 

“Sunrise with you on my chest,
no blinds in the place where you live.
Daybreak opens your eyes,
‘cause this was only ever meant to be one night.
Are we changing our minds here?
Be yours, be my dear.”

Regulus hesitated, as if he was skipping several lines before picking up the chorus. His flush had crept up his neck as he sang, all the way to the tips of his ears.

“I thought I knew it all.
Found love, but I was wrong,
But since you came along, I’m thinking, baby.
You’re bringing out a different kind of me.
There’s no safety net that’s underneath, 
I’m free. Fallin’ all in you.”

While Lily gushed over Regulus’s voice, James sat there, thoroughly confused. That was the opposite of what he’d expected. This song was nothing like “Middle of the Night,” the yearning was…emotional, not physical. He knew that Regulus wrote love songs, and they weren’t all biographical, but this didn’t quite fit that genre either. It was a pop ballad, obviously, but it carefully side-stepped any actual admissions of love. 

He can’t have written this about me. Although the beginning sounds awfully familiar, he mused. 

“What about this one?” Regulus said, quickly changing the subject. “It’s in James’s range.”

Lily frowned. “I don’t know. Can I look at the others?”

Resigned, Regulus handed the entire stack to her. He was avoiding James’s attempts to catch his eye, and appeared profoundly frustrated. With me? With Lily? With the music?

“That was really good,” Peter announced, flopping onto the sofa on Regulus’s other side. “You should perform with us tomorrow while James is resting up. We have a contract with Green Triangle, after all.”

“You want me to sing with you?” Regulus perked up. 

James almost blurted out NO in pure shock. Thankfully, his mind kept his mouth firmly shut. The last thing he wanted to do was dissuade Regulus from singing. He really enjoyed listening to him, especially when it was just the two of them. There was something seductive about Regulus’s voice in those intimate moments that he didn’t express around anyone else.

Is it really for my benefit, or is he nervous?

Lost in his own thoughts, James missed most of the conversation that followed. He’d assumed the others would jump at the chance to have Regulus sing for them. That would draw more attention to the band for sure. It made sense for the short-term anyway, James doubted Regulus would stick to it. That was, until Sirius spoke up.

“Absolutely not.” Sirius leaned against the arm of the sofa and crossed his arms over his chest. “He doesn’t fit our aesthetic or our sound. Not to mention, Reggie, no one would even notice the rest of us. We’d get lost in your spotlight.”

Remus nodded in agreement. “You do have a good tone though, Regulus.”

Guilt sank deep into James’s chest when everyone turned toward him expectantly. He hadn’t even considered the impact of Regulus’s fame. Would anyone care about the band that played back-up for Regulus Black? Not likely.

“Sirius has a point,” James admitted. Regulus’s face fell, and he regretted his words at once. “It couldn’t hurt temporarily though, right? Just until my ankle is–”

“We are trying to make a name for ourselves,” Sirius said pointedly. 

Remus leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand. “We don’t even have a name yet, Sirius.”

“The fans are calling us ‘The Bangers,’” James offered half-heartedly. He didn’t actually care what their band was called, but he was concerned about the way Regulus had gone silent and sort of curled up into himself. While the others threw out ideas, he leaned close and whispered, “Hey, Lils? Switch spots with me?”

She didn’t even question it, just stood up and leaned against the arm of the sofa so he could hobble around her. James wasn’t sure if she was actually caught up in the conversation, or pretending to be. Either way, he was grateful that she hadn’t argued.

“You all right?” James asked, gingerly sinking into the sofa beside Regulus. 

“Mm-hmm.” Regulus leaned against him, closing his eyes and resting his head on James’s shoulder. “I understand how hard it is for new bands. Writing is what I’m better at anyway.”

He sounded genuine, but James couldn’t help wondering if there was more to it. Regulus was clearly excited by the idea of performing with the band, so he was probably disappointed. He said he intended to sing that song himself.

“Speaking of writing,” Regulus whispered, “when can I see yours?”

James sighed. “It’s not like yours, my writing is all pain. There is no redeeming value to it.”

“Pain is a powerful inspiration. Trust me, I know better than anyone.” Regulus tucked his hand in James’s arm and tapped lightly. It was the first time they’d been this close since he fell, and James had missed it. 

His real worry wasn’t the pain in his words. James kept his notebook private for an entirely different reason. “You may see me differently though, I don’t want to ruin…things.” 

Whatever the fuck this is, was what James wanted to say. He imagined digging his hands into whatever it was about Regulus that made him feel normal again, and never letting go. Which was when the lyrics from Regulus’s song hit him.

Since you came along, 
you’re bringing out a different kind of me.
There’s no safety net underneath, I’m free. 

James partially listened to Sirius’s passionate speech vetoing an astronomical name for the band because he understandably preferred to separate himself and his work from his family’s traditions, but James’s mind kept wandering back to Regulus. Did he feel the same way? Was he more himself around James? He’d certainly relaxed in the last couple of weeks. 

Fallin’ all in you. What did that mean, anyway? It wasn’t love. Surely Regulus would have called it by name, if that’s what it was. Right?

“I’ve always liked ‘Unchained Melody,’ like that Righteous Brothers’ song,” Peter announced, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I think Elvis covered it too.”

Remus laughed, shaking his head. “More like ‘Unhinged Melody’ with this lot.”

“Wait, I like that better,” Peter said, shifting forward in his seat eagerly. “Think about it. The combination of words is unexpected, it’s wordplay on the title of a famous song, and it’s a bit ironic too.”

“Unhinged Melody,” Sirius repeated, brow creased in thought. “Isn’t that a doo-wop song?”

Peter nodded as he pulled out his phone to play the opening to the song. “See how soft and sweet it is? Now, think about how ironic it would be for an alt-rock band to name itself after a song like that?”

James grinned, tickled by the suggestion. “I love that. Challenging expectations and genre-bending? That’s us all over, right?”

“You have something there,” Lily said. She pointed at Peter in approval. “That is an interesting story to attach to the band too. How the name reflects the band itself. You change things up on the fly.”

Sirius straightened up, interest sparking in his eyes. “Oh, that fucks with my head, I like it.”

“Of course you do,” Regulus mumbled into James’s shoulder. Snarky git.

“So, we agreed?” Peter asked. He was practically vibrating out of his skin with excitement. “We have a name? We’re officially ‘Unhinged Melody?’”

Remus glanced around the group, smiling sheepishly. “Did I just name our band?”

“Yes, you did!” Sirius hugged him enthusiastically, and Remus froze. 

It’s perfect. Everything is coming together. Fallin’ all in you, indeed.

Regulus wasn’t entirely sure how or why he was here. How had he reached a point in his life that he could be standing on the doorstep of a flat where his brother, his crush, and his roommates’ situationship all lived? Which threads crossed, and at what point, to make this a possibility? It didn’t even matter who answered the door, each one made him feel slightly awkward for a different reason. 

The longer he stood here, the more awkward he felt. Yet, he couldn’t leave. Pandora had sent him here with the stern order to stay close to the band for an important announcement today. Do they really want me here? Or will I just be in the way?

Ever since the band decided he wasn’t welcome to sing or play with them, Regulus had questioned his every step. His position was precarious and temporary. Once he finished writing however many songs they wanted, he would be nothing more than Sirius’s brother again. It was strange how lonely that sounded, when it was simply a return to his day-to-day life.

Can I be lonely while surrounded by friends? Just like James?

The door flew open before he’d gathered the courage to knock, and he was half-dragged into the flat by his brother. Sirius looked out after him as if surprised he was alone, then sighed. “Come on. Everyone’s in the sitting room.”

Regulus followed him down the hallway, but paused when he heard voices in the kitchen. It wasn’t the usual laughter and good-natured ribbing though. The conversation was hushed and tense, despite the fact that Sirius and the others were in the other room. Curious, he nudged the door open a little and peered inside.

James was sitting at the small kitchen table with an older couple who had to be his parents. His mother was beautiful, her warm brown skin was wrapped in a stunning purple sari with gold bracelets and rings. Her husband was a sturdy man, every bit as tall as James from the look of it, who wore a sports coat and slacks with his shirt open at the neck.

Silence had fallen between the three of them, but James appeared ready to burst. He was rocking on the back legs of his chair and toying with what had to be a yellow guitar pick between his teeth. His injured foot was resting on the unoccupied chair beside him.

“It’s not what it looks like?” James said, shrugging. “The media didn’t fact check a damn thing.”

“Then you explain it to us,” his father said, leaning forward to meet James’s eyes. He tossed a newspaper on the table between them. “How else are we meant to interpret this? He has a knife to your throat, James.”

James scrunched up his nose and looked away sheepishly. “I tried to protect him from a fight, and he was showing me that he didn’t need me to intervene. That he could protect himself…with that knife.”

Startled, his mother let out an amused huff. “I suppose that explains the follow-up photo then.”

What follow-up photo? Regulus leaned in a little more to get a better look at James’s face. He appeared to be just as bewildered. The furrow between his brows deepened as his chair legs dropped with a dull clunk onto the tile floor.

“Follow-up? What does that mean?”

With a smug grin, his mother tapped at her mobile screen before handing it over. “After you released your statement, that was posted on WhatsApp and has been making the rounds in the family. I was surprised to see it wasn’t picked up like the other photo, honestly.”

James stared at the screen with wide eyes, then pushed his glasses into his hair and scrubbed a hand over his face. “The entire family has seen this?”

“The ones that use the app,” she said, picking up a mug labeled “Deerly Beloved” with a pair of deer in wedding attire on the side.

What photo are they talking about? Does Pandora know there is another one? Regulus was about to step back and begin furiously texting her when James’s mother tossed out the one question he was too anxious to ask. 

“We want to know what he means to you, jaan.”

His father nodded solemnly. “And why didn't you tell us you were seeing him?”

James drummed his thumbs on the table as he glanced between his parents. The uninjured leg bounced anxiously as he straightened up in his seat. “I like him, more than I probably should, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well, it appears he’s rather fond of you too,” his mother teased, tapping her fingernail on the phone screen. “Or, at least, he’s rather eager.”

Regulus’s face flamed as he suddenly realized what was in that photo. That night, he’d pressed James into the wall outside the pub and kissed him senseless. Oh my gods.

“Is Sirius aware of this?” his father asked. He seemed oddly calm considering the overtly queer behavior on full display.

Did they know that James is pansexual? They don’t seem bothered by it. 

Orion had threatened to kill Regulus’s career over the news that he was gay. He’d had to hide every tryst and relationship behind walls of anonymity and covert meetings. Rarely was a bloke worth the risk of all that, in the end. James was different.

“He was there the first time we kissed,” James said, wryly shaking his head. “It didn’t go over well at the time, but he’s coming around.”

He is? Since when? Sirius didn’t say anything to me.

“This wasn’t the first time then?” his mother asked, lips twitching as if she wanted to laugh.

James sprawled back in his chair and groaned. “No, mum. It was the third incredible, mind-blowing kiss I’d had with him in the span of a few days, if you must know.”

Mind-blowing? Wow. Wait, why is he telling his parents this?

“That’s a pretty rousing endorsement for the lad,” his father replied, winking at his wife. The stern expression he’d worn earlier had faded into a teasing grin. “So, when can we meet him?”

“No! No meeting, no questions, none of that!” James protested, slamming his hand on the table. “I knew you were going to say that. It’s never just a ‘chat.’ We aren’t even dating!”

Regulus muffled a gasp, horrified that James had shouted at his parents. He stepped back from the door, prepared to run and find Sirius if they turned violent. Surely his brother knew how to manage the Potters better than him.

An eerie silence drew him back to the kitchen door again. Regulus peered in with trepidation, but was surprised to find blank looks all around. If James’s parents were shocked by his explosive response, they didn’t show it. 

His mother calmly placed her hand over James’s and sighed. “We just want you to be happy, jaan. Whether it’s with a person, a pet, or a houseplant, we don’t care. Are you happy with him?”

“I’d prefer you chose a human companion actually,” his father added, smirking at James’s eye roll. 

James shoved a hand into his hair, froze when he found his glasses still perched there, then dragged them back down to his nose. “I don’t know how to explain it better than this, but he fixes me. Not that I’m broken, exactly, but when he’s around I feel comfortable with myself. Does that make sense?”

“And when he’s not around?” his mother asked, concern wrinkling her brow. “Sirius mentioned that you’ve been in a ‘funk’ since Lily left.”

“Sirius should shut his big m—”

“Jamie,” she scolded, “he’s worried about you. That’s what brothers do.”

She’s not wrong, but what does that have to do with Sirius?

James rubbed his forehead hard, clearly distressed. “I didn’t want to worry you about it, that’s all. You didn’t have to come all the way down here because of a stupid photo.”

“We came all the way down here because we wanted to see you,” she corrected, squeezing his hand. “Since you haven’t told us anything about the band, your friends, or your life in months. This isn’t like you.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it? I’m not myself. I can’t pretend to be happy when I’m miserable anymore. There’s so much anger and these dark thoughts and…and it just builds up in my head until I explode!”

His father scoffed, “When have you ever pretended to be happy? James, you acted happy because you were happy. We did everything we could to make your life a child’s dream come true. Perhaps we should have let you fall more often, or told you ‘no,’ but—”

“You were our miracle baby,” his mother added, patting James’s hand. “Life isn’t as easy now, hmm? Awful things happen, and we have to blunder through it.”

“It’s just easier to breathe, and think, when Regulus is here,” James admitted, inhaling deeply as though preparing to launch into a formal presentation. “He’s talented, brilliant, snarky, and he listens. I refuse to dump my problems on him, but he still seems to know what I need. You know how that family is, how they treated Sirius? Regulus fought back and made a name for himself. He’s accomplished so much while my band is struggling to get gigs. At first, I was worried he’d overshadow the band with his fame, but now I’ve realized that I’d hold him back. He deserves better.”

James’s mother let out a sharp noise of disapproval that startled Regulus from his daze. He staggered back from the door, hands trembling and clammy, and his mouth dry. It can’t be true. James doesn’t really think that, does he?

It was surreal to hear those words from James’s lips, and his mind whirled to process it all. Regulus couldn’t decide if he was pleased to hear that he’d impressed James after all, or horrified that he thought he wasn’t good enough. As if Regulus cared one whit about celebrity status! That was absurd!

“There you are,” Sirius said, poking his head out from the sitting room at the end of the hall. “You look terrible. Did you slip off to the loo? Are you ill?”

“No, I’m…it’s they…I-I uh,” Regulus fumbled with his words, trying to make sense of everything he’d heard. It was jumbled and conflicted strongly with his own impression of James. “He yelled at them, but his parents…they weren’t angry until he said I deserved better.”

Sirius’s eyebrows shot up his forehead as he hurried into the hall. “You were eavesdropping? What else did they say?”

Regulus grabbed his arm and pulled his brother into the entryway. The last thing he wanted was to disturb the Potters as they told off James for devaluing himself. He could hear distinct protests from his mother through the door, and James’s lame rebuttal to them.

“James said that he’s miserable and can’t hide it anymore, but his parents said he just didn’t understand misery,” Regulus told Sirius pointedly. “Was he really that spoiled as a child? He didn’t know what it was like to be sad?”

Sirius leaned against the wall and chuckled. “He was an only child with doting parents. He wasn’t spoiled in a material sense, as his parents are pretty frugal, but they spoiled him with their undivided attention. All of his childhood stories include his parents joining his imaginary adventures, including making costumes and themed meals. When he went through a pirate phase, his mum made all of his food into the shape of sea animals and ships with cookie cutters, while his father tore apart one of his own shirts to make James a proper pirate outfit.”

“Wow,” Regulus said, breathless with awe. Was it possible? It didn’t sound real.

“Yeah, ‘wow’ is right. Think of it, no nanny and no punishments. The Potters showered him with praise and encouraged him to show compassion. When he arrived at uni, he was the definition of eager-to-please and happy-go-lucky.”

Perhaps that explains the “guilt thing” Lily was talking about. It was a culture shock, and James thinks he’s to blame. That every misstep is a deliberate failure.

Regulus wondered how traumatic the experience was for James. To go from a world of delight and acceptance to a world filled with distrust and skepticism. Did everything crumble at once or incrementally? Was he worn down by the world’s cynicism?

“What are his parents like?” Regulus asked, eyeing the kitchen door warily. “To someone other than James, I mean.”

Sirius bobbed his head side to side in thought, then smiled. “Overall, they are sweet, gentle people. Monty generally keeps to himself, but he is a brilliant listener if you need one. Effie can be a bit like you when someone is down on themselves, gets a bit snappy if you degrade yourself.”

“I saw that. She wasn’t happy when James said I deserved better.”

His brother grimaced. “Not surprised. Self-love is a big thing for her.”

The kitchen door swung open, startling them both. James’s mother, Effie, stopped abruptly and clasped her hands together. The bangles on her wrists sang merrily every time she moved, and it reminded Regulus of Pandora’s overly cheerful jewelry.

“You must be Regulus,” she said, stepping closer and opening her arms wide. “I’m James’s mum, Euphemia, but you can call me Effie.”

Regulus glanced between his brother and Effie’s extended arms in confusion. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was expected to do. Surely she didn’t intend to embrace him. He was a stranger, and one that had held her son at knife-point quite publicly.

Sirius snorted, then shoved him forward. “He’s a bit shy, Effie, but he’ll warm up quickly once he tastes your cooking.”

“Can I hug you?” Effie asked, smiling gently. “I won’t squeeze you like I do James and Sirius until we know each other better, all right?”

Regulus nodded, already overwhelmed and more than a little confused. She wants to know me better? Why?

As soon as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, Regulus helplessly melted into her warmth. Joy radiated out of this woman like an infectious disease, clawing open his chest and slipping inside. His mood lifted against his will.

“You know,” Effie whispered, a grin evident in her voice, “my son is single, so I'd prefer you dated him rather than gut him.”

Regulus froze, unsure if he’d just hallucinated that comment. When she laughed softly, he relaxed. “Agreed.”

“So, it’s settled!” Effie pulled back and patted his cheeks. “You and James are dating!”

“Mum, stop!” James protested, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He doesn’t have to settle for me when he has so many—”

Sirius scoffed, “Settle? Fuck off!”

Monty snorted a laugh. “What he said!”

Before Regulus could formulate a response, Effie pinched his cheek and grinned. “Leave it to me, I’ll set him straight.”

“Not too straight,” Regulus quipped, leaping at the opening she graciously offered to him.

Effie threw her head back and laughed, a rich, genuine explosion of happiness that quickly flooded the hallway. She clasped a hand to her chest, as if she had to rein herself in from the effects of his stellar joke. It wasn’t that funny, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

This is what I was missing out on, what drew Sirius away from home. I can hardly blame him.

Monty moved closer as if automatically drawn to her, smiling fondly. “I haven’t heard you laugh that hard since I tripped over the neighbors’ sprinkler system, and it wet my trousers!”

“Clumsiness is a Potter trait then?” Regulus asked, peering around him. James remained at the kitchen table while Sirius told him off with hissed reprimands. He couldn’t hear the substance of the conversation, but he was plenty familiar with the delivery.

“You’re familiar with my son’s inherited grace then?” Monty teased.

“He’s a menace on stage. That’s how he injured his ankle, did he tell you?” Regulus asked.

Remus stepped into the hallway in time to catch that remark, and grinned. “True, but he looks damn good, even when he’s down.”

Effie whirled around and threw out her arms again. “A fan of my son! Nice to meet you, my name is Effie, and I…” 

“There she goes again,” Monty said. Then, he hooked his thumb over his shoulder at the kitchen. “Care to join us for tea?”

Regulus hesitated. “Are you sure—”

When Regulus looked up, James surreptitiously waved him over. It hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that James was more or less stuck at the table. He was unable to escape without his crutches, which were propped up against the counter behind Sirius. Through the conversation with his parents and now this lecture about his “self-worth,” James was held hostage.

Sirius was still avidly, though quietly railing at James. The hand gestures alone were enough to give Regulus a reason to intervene. It wouldn’t be the first time that his brother went too far and threw a punch instead. He wouldn’t hit James, would he? Monty seemed to catch on about the same time as Regulus, and they walked side by side to rescue James from the consequences of his loose tongue. 

“Regulus is here! Oh good, come sit with me,” James said, eagerly reaching for him when he was close enough. He grabbed Regulus’s arm and dragged him into his lap, plopping him unceremoniously on his good leg. “What were you saying, Sirius?”

“Don’t think you can hide behind my brother, James Potter!” Sirius warned, stabbing the air with his index finger as if James had personally harmed him. “He doesn’t like your self-deprecating shit anymore than I do.”

Regulus tried to turn around, but James had buried his face into Regulus’s back and was holding him around the waist. He ignored the flush of pleasure at being hugged like this in front of everyone, including James’s parents. “When will you learn, Potter?”

“Not today, apparently,” James grumbled, his voice muffled by Regulus’s jumper. “Save me.”

It was nearly impossible to avoid giving into him on a good day, but seeing James with a bum leg and in a hostage situation? Regulus was far too fond of this twit. “You are brilliantly stupid sometimes, you know that?”

“Agreed,” Sirius said, slapping the table. He then launched into a blatantly hypocritical rant about expressing feelings to those who cared. 

James squeezed him tighter and groaned. “I surrender, just make it stop.”

“Only if you quit saying it,” Regulus whispered, leaning back against James’s shoulder. He ignored his brother’s ranting and focused on James. “Especially since it’s not true.”

Behind him, James inhaled sharply. Regulus had the impression that he wanted to argue further, but was holding himself back. Oh good, he’s trainable. 

Sirius’s phone trilled out with a song that Regulus had never heard before. He answered it, but in response to Regulus’s quizzical look, he mouthed, “Lily loves Stela Cole.”

“Stela Cole?” Regulus repeated. 

Sirius smirked at him, then turned to chat with Lily. 

A mobile appeared in front of his face, already open to the music app. Regulus skimmed the screen. “Her ringtone is ‘No Man’s Land?’ Oh wait, I get it.” 

James huffed a half-hearted laugh, then tucked his phone away. “Yeah, Lily turned Sirius onto Stela about a month ago.”

“What?! Are you having a laugh?” Sirius shouted, waving his hand at James. “The Longbottoms want us?”

“The Longbottoms?” Regulus repeated, surprised. 

“Holy fuck,” James breathed. His chin fell onto Regulus’s shoulder with a soft thump. “How…who do you…wow.”

As the call ended, Sirius turned toward Regulus with a wry smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He wasn’t upset, closer to shocked, Regulus was pretty sure. “They saw our media blitz about the band’s collaboration with you, and reached out to Dorcas to see if we had a record deal yet. It was because of you that we will meet and record with The motherfucking Longbottoms, Reggie.”

“We will what?” Remus said, rushing into the kitchen with Effie on his heels. “Are you…no. Is this a joke?”

“Not a joke.” Sirius started laughing, but it was an eerie, on the edge of madness sort of laugh. “I can’t believe that we have been specially requested to record with the Longbottoms! Just because of my brother’s involvement! This is…mental!”

Regulus hated that laugh. He’d heard it a few times when they were younger, and it almost always preceded a particularly awful event. Either Sirius had been caught sneaking out, or getting high with his friends, and was about to face punishment. A chill rushed down his spine, and Regulus shivered. James noticed, and promptly attempted to bury Regulus in his arms. 

“Pete! Did you hear that?” Remus called out, half-tripping down the hall in his haste. “We have a record deal! Guess with who, you’ll never guess.”

Effie wrapped Sirius up in a hug from behind and squeezed the life out of him. “You’ve got it all wrong. Regulus may have grabbed their attention, but it’s you lot that they want to record. He unlocked the door, but you opened it for yourself. They wouldn’t record your music if they didn’t like it, right? To produce your first album, they’d have to put their name on it too!”

“That’s true,” Monty agreed, sidling up beside the two of them. “Besides, wasn’t it your brilliant idea to work with Regulus? You made that happen, Sirius!”

“Yeah, it was Sirius’s idea,” James agreed pointedly. He sounded far more confident now that the attention was diverted from him, despite that he was still half-hidden behind Regulus. “Wasn’t riding the tails of Regulus’s fame part of the reason you asked him to write for us in the first place? Shouldn’t you be thanking him, and Dorcas for that matter, for bringing us this opportunity?”

Regulus bit back a grin, trying hard not to draw attention to himself, but there was a delicious, poetic irony hidden in all of this. He was more than happy to share his spotlight with his brother, especially since it brought him into James’s orbit, yet the fact that Sirius was having a small meltdown over it was hysterically funny. Sirius will never admit that he needs me too.

“Well, yes, but…” Sirius stammered. He searched for support from every face in the room before dropping his chin to his chest with a resigned grunt. “Thanks, Reggie.”

“You’re welcome,” Regulus replied, mimicking Monty’s thumb-over-the-shoulder move. “Does that mean you’ll stop throwing tantrums when I snog this twit then?” Not if, but when. It will happen again.

Effie laughed, then patted Sirius’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll come around. Won’t you, darling?”

“Probably,” his brother admitted reluctantly. “That’s the least I could do.”

Monty clapped his hands, startling Peter as he walked in with Remus. “I say we need to celebrate! Let’s order in. Effie, will you call Lily and Mary to join us, they should be here too. Oh, and Dorcas, whoever she is. I’d like to kiss her on the cheek, if she’ll allow it.”

“She won’t,” Regulus said, amused, “but Dorcas wouldn’t say ‘no’ to a bottle of good scotch.”

“Done and done!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

They celebrated with a raucous evening spent eating an absurd amount of food that Monty ordered from a place across town that he called “the only reputable Indian cuisine in London.” After sipping on a few too many gin martinis that Sirius insisted were to show his appreciation and listening to a mind-numbing number of pop songs in his honor, Regulus was hiding out in James’s bedroom. He’d narrowly evaded a number of attempts at hugs from drunk celebrants, and was content to squirrel away in the quiet to write. 

It was a terrible reason to leave a party, but an idea had wedged into his mind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it until he set the words to a melody. The problem was, this particular idea made him more nervous than any other song he’d written up until now. Regulus recognized how stupid that was, he really did. That didn’t change anything. Too personal, too much, too soon.

The lyrics swirled around in the ether all the same, whether he was sure they were real or not. They existed in this form, at least, if not for any other. Regulus wasn’t sure that he was willing to search deep within himself to find out one way or another.

Oh, I'm a mess
When I overthink the little things in my head
You seem to always help me catch my breath
But then I lose it again
When I look at you, that's the end

And why do I get so nervous 
when I look into your eyes?
Butterflies can’t stop me falling for you.
Darling, this is more than 
anything I’ve felt before,
You’re everything that I want, 
but I didn’t think I’d find.

The worst part was that it rang true, albeit in a distant, surreal part of his mind. Likely the place where he stuffed the harmful hope and lonesome longing that he’d begun to hate about himself. It hardly seemed fair that among all the people in the world, Regulus had to fall victim to a yearning that threatened to rip him apart. 

So here he sat, all alone in a house full of people that he was beginning to enjoy being around. He sat here alone as his journal filled with line after line of James-flavored hope that he had no right to hold. It was simply who he was, at his core. A loner who dreamed of loving the life of the party.

“What if I am obsessed?” he whispered, scratching out a potential first line. Regulus hesitated, waiting for his innate, visceral defensiveness to protest. It didn’t. He let his head fall forward and rubbed his forehead worriedly. “Gods, I’m a mess.”

May as well add that in too. Why not? No one will ever see this one, if I can help it.

“Regulus?”

He spun around and hid the journal behind his back, cheeks aflame. Of course, James would wander into his own bedroom at some point in the evening. Why would the universe be kind to me, of all people?

“What are you doing? Is that your journal? Are you writing?” James asked, hopping into the room on one crutch. His confusion tipped into excitement, and he held a hand out expectantly. “Let me see!”

“I-I was just thinking. That’s all.” Regulus snapped the journal shut and reached for his coat. 

James elbowed the door shut as he passed it, then gracelessly sprawled on the floor next to Regulus. He was getting better with the crutches, but occasionally preferred to hop around on one foot rather than fuss with them. This inevitably meant the crutches were left on the other side of the house when he actually needed them. 

“Come on,” James said, rolling on to his side to feel behind Regulus for the journal. “Give us a peek at what you’re up to.”

“Us?”

“Me. You. Us. We can look together.” 

Regulus held the journal out of James’s reach, enjoying the temporary power. Unfortunately, he’d underestimated how determined James was to win. He all but climbed into Regulus’s lap to grab hold of his extended arm, reeling his hand in like a prize fish. In a last ditch effort to spare himself humiliation, Regulus tossed the journal across the room. 

“Hey! That’s not fair,” James grumbled, collapsing as if he was boneless on top of Regulus.

“Fair? When has this ever been a fair exchange?” Regulus pointed out, brilliantly if he did say so himself. “Where is your song notebook?”

Clearly tipsy, James glanced up at the top of the wardrobe. “Trade? I depress you with my rubbish lyrics and you further expose your crush on me?”

If he thought his face was heated when James walked in, Regulus was certain that steam was shooting out of his ears now. He hated how one-sided and ridiculous it sounded. James had all but told his parents that he liked Regulus, but he never said so directly to him. A shadow of doubt was all it took to ruin the temporary euphoria he’d had earlier. 

“All right,” Regulus agreed, shoving James onto the floor. “Yours is up here?”

“Yeah, on top.”

Regulus lifted onto his tiptoes and patted around the top of the wardrobe until his fingers landed on a spiral of wire. He dragged the notebook down and stared at it, caught between horror and amusement. “You write in a school notebook? With a spiral binding?”

“Listen here, you pretentious prat. Not everyone needs to have a fancy moleskin journal to scratch out the bullshit in their head. Sometimes a MEAD notebook does the job just as well,” James defended. He sat upright and propped his foot up on the bean bag chair that Regulus vacated. “Now, let me see yours.”

Plopping on the end of James’s bed, Regulus waved dismissively. “You’ll get it in a minute. I want to know what’s in here that you’re so afraid of me seeing.”

“Do you ever have intrusive thoughts?” 

“Of course.”

“That’s what’s in there. Anger, depression, and intrusive thoughts, a well-rounded meal of utter bullshit unfit for the world to see,” James said with a shrug. “You may as well see it, then you’d understand why I say you deserve better. I know, I know, don’t–”

Regulus flung a pillow at James’s head, smacking his face dead center. “I warned you. Don’t push me, Potter!”

“All right! I surrender!” James pouted when another pillow hit his face. “Oi! Cheap shot.”

“Sarcasm and snark are taken, get your own personality.” 

Regulus flipped open the front cover as carefully as possible, as it was barely still attached. A casual tug could rip it straight off. He’s not been kind to his music, or in it, from the looks of this thing. Unsurprising with how unkind he is to himself.

James shifted on his back until he was closer to Regulus, then propped himself up against the low foot board. “At least show me which one you’re reading.”

After he’d flicked through several songs that had been half-scratched out, Regulus found one that looked halfway decent. He wriggled around until he was leaning over the edge of the bed, so James could look at the notebook with him. “This one’s rather dark, but I can see where you were going with it. The structure’s not bad, and with a little background vocalization, I think it could be a powerful rock ballad.”

What if I wanted to break?
Laugh it all off in your face?
What would you do?

What if I fell on the floor?
Couldn’t take this anymore.
What would you do?

Come break me down,
Bury me, bury me.
I am finished with you. 
Look in my eyes,
you’re killing me, killing me.
All I wanted was you.

“That is a very optimistic interpretation of complete rot,” James said, grabbing the notebook and flipping to the back. “The slightly decent stuff is in the back.”

When he handed it back, Regulus was surprised to see a nearly fleshed out melody under one of the songs. Most of the previous attempts were lyrics only, and admittedly terrible ones at that. Not that he’d say that to James. He didn’t need another voice adding to the negativity running rampant in his head.

The song James had chosen was only marginally less violent than the first one, but the emotions were still raw. This was a song that would suit the harshest rasp in James’s voice and give him ample opportunity to add in a few of those growls he enjoyed so much. It was perfect for the band, actually. 

“This one. I want to hear this one, James,” Regulus said, smoothing out the page. “Will you play it for me?”

James looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. “You want me to sing this? It’s not even finished.”

“I can help, if you’ll let me.” A flare of that irrepressible, unfortunate hope that he couldn’t manage to kill lit in his chest, despite his best efforts to tamp it down. Regulus nudged James’s shoulder. “Please?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, all right.”

Regulus handed him the notebook, then scrambled across the bed to retrieve James’s acoustic guitar. The classic Gibson with a vintage starburst reflected James far more than he realized. A dark outer edge with a golden bloom in the middle, burning bright for those who bothered to look past the gloom. Regulus stroked the neck of the instrument as he handed it over, then settled between James’s open legs to watch him play. 

James tossed the notebook at him and smirked. “If you’re going to sit that close, be useful and hold my notes.”

“I think I can manage that,” Regulus agreed, propping the notebook on his knees. 

After a few moments of nervous tuning and strumming, James produced a pick from what must be a never-ending supply in his magical, pick-creating pocket. He cleared his throat, then coughed. “Er…right. I’ll just dive in, I guess?”

“I want to hear this part, and whatever else you want to play.”

James nodded, humming distractedly as he zipped his fingertips along the frets. Eventually, he found a chord to start with and began to strum. The song started off softer than Regulus expected, and James’s voice quavered a bit through the first verse.

“Holding my breath, playing pretend.
Acting like you'll never hurt me again.
And why does your love come with a punch,
that I'll keep takin' again and again?

How many times will you apologize,
and say that you're ready to change?”

James’s confidence seemed to lift once he reached the chorus though, and he leaned into the harshest rasp Regulus had heard in his voice yet. It was just as raw and emotionally-charged as he imagined, and he loved every second of it.

“I wish I could hate you
for breaking me, callin' it love. I made you
stay when you wanted to run. Tell you
I can't love the same 'cause you threw me away.
And why couldn't I be enough?”

The second verse fell back into the softer tone at the beginning, but picked up quickly. James bounced his head with the beat, emphasizing the downbeat as he thundered into the chorus with a growl that elicited a violent shiver from Regulus against his will.

“And sometimes I felt being somebody else
'cause you never cared even 'til the end.
If only you'd be just into me,
but you keep on fuckin' me up in the head!

I wish I could hate you
for breaking me, callin' it love. I made you
stay when you wanted to run. Tell you
I can't love the same 'cause you threw me away,
and why couldn't I be enough?”

James finished on a sharp note that echoed through the room and sent chills rushing over Regulus’s skin. The notebook hit the floor as Regulus launched forward, his hands balled up in the front of James’s shirt as their mouths crashed together. He swallowed James’s startled laugh and devoured every breath that followed it. 

In mere seconds, the guitar between them disappeared, and James’s desperate, grasping hands slipped beneath his shirt. Regulus leaned in to his touch, letting out a gasp when James bit into his bottom lip. Hungry kisses trailed down his neck with viscous efficiency, finding each and every sensitive spot along the way. The delicious torture stopped only to allow his jumper to be thrown over his head, then continued as James lifted Regulus onto his knees for better access to all of the skin he’d just revealed. 

“James, James, James,” Regulus babbled, hands buried in luscious dark curls. “Please, more…”

With an approving hum, James pressed both hands into Regulus’s back until he arched into the hot, wet tongue swirling around his nipples. One hand slid down and gripped his arse, firmly planting Regulus’s hips onto James’s chest. Regulus’s head dropped back between his shoulders as he rutted against the heat of his skin, burning through James’s shirt. 

“That’s it, take what you need,” James said. He smiled as he glanced up, catching Regulus’s eye and holding it. His wicked tongue flicked over his belly and dipped below his waistband.

“Tease.”

“I can be a real tease, so don’t tempt me.”

Pleasure sparked and sizzled as James nibbled at the skin at his waist, flaring up and skittering off in all directions when Regulus tried to rein himself in. He was already so close to cumming in his pants, but he wanted so much more. Regulus needed to fuck him stupid, now. A knot pulled taut in his belly, and he cried out, actively fighting back from the edge. Too fast, too soon. He’s going to ruin me.

“James, I-I need…merde, that feels good,” he whined.

A loud thud on the door startled Regulus, and he jolted backwards reflexively. James barely kept hold of his hips, scrambling to stop him from falling. It was a close call. 

Several harsh bangs hit the door in quick succession as Sirius shouted at them, “Oi! No shagging during the party! Get out here!”

“He’s dead. Say your goodbyes, James. I’m going to murder my bastard of a brother,” Regulus warned, searching for his jumper. 

James cupped Regulus’s bulge and squeezed lightly. “Hold on. Let me suck you off first, at least.” 

Regulus knew that James was trying to distract him, or soften him up a little, and it almost worked too. If only his brother had an inkling of self-preservation. Instead, Sirius had a death wish, and Regulus intended to grant it for him.

“I know you can hear me,” Sirius taunted. “You can’t sneak off at a party, arseholes! It’s a house rule. Your house rule, James!”

“I’ll deal with you and your house rules later,” Regulus snapped, planting his hands on the bed and rising to his feet. 

James tried to pull him back down, but settled for massaging his thighs. “No, don’t go. Don’t let him win.”

Regulus pulled a knife out of his boot and flicked it open. He closed his eyes and stroked the blade, refocusing the surge of adrenaline to a far more productive use. “I’m not done with you, Potter, not to worry.”

He gripped James’s curls until his body went slack with pleasure, then stepped out of reach. Within three steps, he’d wrenched open the door. Sirius took one look at him, then bolted down the hall. Regulus stalked after him, cursing under his breath. Just a light stabbing, this time. 

“Regulus! Don’t hurt him!” James yelled, grunting in his attempt to stand. 

Regulus scowled. “It won’t hurt…much.”

“If you let him go, I’ll let you fuck me!” 

Surprising himself, Regulus stopped abruptly. He’d mentioned topping earlier, but hadn’t expected it to happen. Staring at the empty hallway, Regulus’s mind spun off into two directions at once. Images flashed through his mind, one after another. Snatched bits from dreams and reality mixed together to create an intoxicating fantasy. His hands clenched at his sides, the knife hilt biting into his palm. 

James stumbled into the hallway and sighed with relief. “Oh, thank fuck. That actually worked.”

“Do you want that too, or was it just a ploy?” Regulus licked his lips nervously. He didn’t know what he’d do if James admitted it was a trick. His chest clenched at the thought. Merde. He owns me, body and soul. One harsh word and I’d shatter at his feet. 

A solid weight pressed into his back as James’s arm circled his waist. His voice was low and seductive in Regulus’s ear. “I’d like to be back on two feet before we give it a go, but yeah. I want you to fuck me.”

“All right. I won’t stab him, today.”

James grinned against his neck as he slid the knife out of Regulus’s hand. “Look at you, negotiating for sex. Didn’t think you had it in you, Regulus.”

“You sound awfully cocky for someone asking to bottom,” Regulus retorted. 

“Not asking, begging,” James corrected smugly. “Do you want to hear me beg?”

Yes! More than anything in the world. Bloody hell, he’s trying to kill me. 

James didn’t have much experience on the receiving end of an intense crush, so the undivided attention was new to him. To be honest, it was probably unhealthy how much Regulus’s attention and interest stroked his ego. No one had ever centered their world around him before, except his parents, and he wasn’t entirely sure where the limits lay. He didn’t intend to push his luck by testing Regulus’s boundaries. 

He actually wants to be here with me. Even after seeing how dark my thoughts can be, he wasn’t fazed. Better still, Regulus jumped him after he bared his soul to him!  

He was rather proud of himself at the moment, since he’d convinced Regulus not to murder his brother and was still allowed to get him off. Regulus’s enthusiastic moans while James sucked him dry was punishment enough for Sirius’s interference, in James’s opinion. There was nothing better than watching Regulus arch his back, graceful neck exposed, with his hands fisted in the sheets. As if that wasn’t enough, this beautiful man then curled up next to him and nodded off afterwards. 

James gently brushed back a rogue lock of hair, admiring the freckles dotting Regulus’s nose. They were so pale that he could only see them when they were this close. He’s so bloody perfect.

As soon as the thought landed, doubts crept in. How was he supposed to impress someone who was far more successful, and in the same career? It didn’t matter how hard James tried, Regulus would always be the bigger star. Not that it was a competition, obviously, but the fact that he didn’t have a chance stung. 

They would never be balanced, each bringing an equal share to a relationship. Regulus didn’t need him for anything. James shouldn’t even bother thinking of a relationship right now, let alone with someone like Regulus. I’m jealous of his success, that’s all. It’s not that deep.

Except, it was that deep in moments like this. It felt real when he was drunk, spiraling, and too sad to cry. Logically, he knew this –whatever this was– wasn’t his to keep, but he was trying to enjoy what Regulus allowed him to have for now. Any second, the fragile wall he’d unintentionally wrapped around the two of them could crumble. It wouldn’t take much, a simple rejection would do it. If he knew everything that my brain puts me through…what would he do?

Then, Regulus stirred, stretched his legs, and mumbled into James’s chest. “Too loud.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking too loud,” Regulus said, rubbing his face against James like a disgruntled cat.

James scoffed, “What? How can I–”

With a groan, Regulus flung his arm out and swatted at James until he found his face. He covered James’s mouth and shushed him. “Shhh. Don’t deny it. Just write it.”

“You want me to write a song about you?” 

Regulus opened one eye and stared at him. “Is that what you were thinking about? Me?”

“Yes.” James leaned down and kissed his forehead, earning a content hum. “You offered to collaborate when we first met, do you still want to?”

That got his attention. Regulus opened both eyes and peered up at him warily, likely prepared for him to take it back. “Are you sure? You didn’t even want me to see your songs back then, or even yesterday.”

“Yeah, but you’ve seen them now. And…you’re still here.”

“Did you really expect me to run away? It’s not as though I don’t know what it’s like to bury your emotions in your music,” Regulus pointed out. He shifted, subtly pulling away, as if he’d just realized they were cuddling.

Amused, James wrapped his arm around Regulus and tucked him back into his side. Regulus relaxed at once, openly relieved. Why fight it? This is where you belong. 

“Hand me my journal then,” Regulus said, pointing at the nightstand. “You talk, I’ll write, then we’ll sort out the rest later.”

“Really? Just tell you what I’m thinking?”

“Really. Go on,” Regulus said, stifling a yawn.

James rested his cheek against Regulus’s head and tried his best to explain. “I’ve tried so hard to fix myself, to keep all the pain locked inside, but it’s not working. And I feel so fucking guilty about it because I know that everyone I know and love has far more to handle than I do. I know that I should appreciate how lucky I am to have this life, and I don’t want to worry my parents or friends, so I fake it.”

“Terribly, never go into acting.” Regulus muttered, his pencil flying across the page. “Keep going.”

“Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t me anymore. I want to be someone else, or not here at all. Escape from the constant, critical narration that runs through my mind, you know? It’s overwhelming.” James sighed, and buried his face in Regulus’s hair. “I want to be nothing for a while. That sounds sort of peaceful, doesn’t it?” 

Regulus paused his writing, then set his journal aside and nuzzled James’s shoulder. “I’d notice if you were nothing. If you were gone…I’d miss you.”

“I know. You see right through me,” James whispered. He pressed a firm kiss to the crown of dark hair, and smiled sadly. The pressure in his chest had eased marginally as he spoke. “You figured me out so fast, and knew what I needed before I did. Life is just easier with you.”

“The moody git routine isn’t as effective as you think it is. Your friends knew something was wrong, but didn’t want to upset you by calling you out. I’m not that nice.” Regulus picked up his journal and looked over his notes, as if he hadn’t just thrown a dagger through James’s fool-proof facade. “Well, they didn’t interfere until you started falling apart. Then, it was impossible to ignore.” 

James was speechless for the first time in his life. There were moments when he chose not to speak, or censored himself, but this was different. He had no words, no thoughts, nothing left. Regulus had ripped away his defenses and left him exposed. Vulnerable.

“Listen to this, I may have a chorus,” Regulus said, after the silence lingered a little too long. He tapped his journal, humming a soft tune as he traced the lines. Then, he frowned and shook his head. “Piano, it needs to be piano leading.” 

He inhaled deeply, then began to sing quietly to himself. 

“If you only knew…
all the shit my brain is putting me through.
You’d come running over straight to my room 
here tonight. I’m sorry, but I need you.
If you only knew.”

The melody was light beneath such heavy emotions, but somehow, it worked. James rolled the chorus through his mind a few times, then tossed out his own lines.

“I’ve tried so hard to survive.
Sometimes I think I want to die.
I feel so guilty 
‘cause I’m so lucky to live my life,
so I keep all the pain inside.”

Regulus was writing furiously now, the pencil scratching the page as he leaned the journal on James’s chest. “That was good, give me more.”

James hummed to himself, toying with the melody that Regulus had started. If he upped the tempo and added intensity into his voice…

“Take me outta this hell!
Oh, somebody help!
Take me outta this hell!
Oh, I’m not myself.”

Regulus inhaled sharply, then nodded in approval. “Wow, okay. That’s it. That’s the bridge.”

“You think so? It’s pretty simple.”

“It’s powerful, James. The way you pour emotion into your voice is…incredible,” Regulus said. He was nearly nose to journal now, but the flush climbing his neck gave him away. “Your voice is immersive, dragging your fans into the uncharted depth of your expressive style. That's why I had to write for you.”

James was thoroughly confused. Even though he was the lead singer, no one had mentioned Regulus writing specifically for him. The same introductory questions were put to everyone, it was always a group effort. Weren't they? Or did I miss something? “For me? Don’t you mean you had to write for the band?”

“No.”

"Then why ask everyone what their preferences?" James checked.

Regulus shrugged. "I didn't ask anyone else about their preferences. Only you."

“That can't be right. You hated me that first day!"

"No," Regulus stated flatly.

"But, you were so prickly and–”

"And you were an arsehole," Regulus huffed, ignoring James's frown. “I stand by what I said.”

The whole time? He wanted to write for me from the beginning? The thought was overwhelming in the best possible way. Slowly, he began to piece together why Regulus was so grumpy at that first practice. James had feigned disinterest a little too well. 

“You really are obsessed with me, Pandora was right.” James had to tease him a little, to ease the tension between them. Regulus hid his face in his journal and groaned, but didn’t move away. With a grin, James snatched the journal out of his hand and flipped back a few pages. 

“James!”

“Nuh-uh, you haven't shown me the new song you were writing when I found you. We had a deal!” James knew he didn’t have much time to read through it, since Regulus was squawking at him already. He skimmed a few pages until he found the last song Regulus had written before transcribing the new one. “You said it was about me, and I want to see…oh. Hold on.”

Regulus launched forward to grab the book back. “I never said it was about you!”

James grunted when Regulus’s knee plunged into his gut, and promptly rolled him onto the bed. He held the book out of reach, like the little prat had done earlier. Just when he thought he had enough control to read it properly, Regulus grabbed his glasses. 

“Hey! I need those!” 

“Fuck, you really are blind.” Regulus blinked up at him through the lenses, his eyes crossing. “How do you function like this? Have you sorted out sonar yet?”

James rolled his eyes, then scrambled upright as gingerly as his sprained ankle would allow. Two could play at this game. He pinned Regulus’s arms with his knees and sat on his chest, holding most of his weight with a hand braced on the headboard. No point in suffocating him. He’ll miss out on the fun.

“You wrote this about me, admit it,” he taunted, bringing the journal close, so he could make out some of the words. “Says here that you are obsessed. Do I really make you nervous?”

Regulus struggled a little, but not much. He made a big show of scoffing and tossing his head from side to side before giving in. “Hypothetically? Yes.”

“Hypothetically, huh?”

“Whatever. You already know I fancy you,” Regulus muttered, avoiding his gaze. “It shouldn’t be surprising that I don’t mind your company.”

“I suppose not.”

James considered him for a moment, curious if he would open up a bit more if given a lead to follow. It worked before. Regulus glanced at him, then away, like a frightened rabbit. James had noticed that he struggled with vulnerability, even when they were alone. He released his hold on Regulus’s arms, shifted back to perch on his hips, and traded the journal for his glasses.  

“There’s this song that you wrote a while back,” James said, smirking when Regulus’s eyes went wide. “Yes, all right. I looked you up.”

“You lied?”

James waved dismissively. “You were a prat, I wasn’t about to feed your ego.”

“My ego?” Regulus huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Anyway,” James said pointedly, “this song you wrote, ‘Unconditional,’ really spoke to me. The way you described falling for someone was exactly how I imagine it.”

Regulus’s frown softened as he searched James’s face. “‘Unconditional’ is a wedding song.”

“It’s not realistic though is it? Finding someone that makes me feel safe enough to recklessly ignore the world? A love so deep that nothing could endanger it? It’s mental! Just…the security in knowing that the world could be on fire, and I wouldn’t care, so long as I was loved like that. I want that.”

“Yes, I-I want that too.”

“Do you think we’ll ever find it?” James pressed, watching him intently. 

“I think it’s possible,” Regulus answered carefully. “It could be dangerous to love so recklessly though, not caring who gets burned?”

James leaned closer, delighted to have his full attention. “It would be worth it. If I can’t have a love like that, then I don’t want it at all.”

Regulus cleared his throat, then swallowed hard. He seemed to be on edge, dancing along the precipice of a strong emotion, and close to falling through. “That sounds…intense. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I’d do it. I’d let the world burn,” James insisted. “Does that scare you, Regulus?”

“No.”

James’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No? Really?”

“You underestimate me, if you think I’d succumb to the flames,” Regulus dead-panned. His entire demeanor shifted with a determined set to his jaw.

“Hmm, are you the arsonist then?” James teased, grinning wickedly. “Suits you.”

Regulus lifted up onto his elbows, his eyes darkening as he stared into James’s soul. He moved deliberately slowly, trailing his hands up to James’s shoulders before leaning in. Then, his lips ghosted over James’s jaw as he whispered, “I won't start the fire, but I’d let the world burn for you.”

Chills prickled along James’s spine, a sensation that only happened when Regulus turned a bit feral. Like this, right now. James kissed him, then pressed him into the bed. He refused to analyze any of their admissions tonight. Now wasn’t the time. Later though…

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🎼*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The Longbottoms’ studio was small compared to the established industry producers, but their reputation wasn’t. James hadn’t met either of the popular folk singers turned record producers until he walked into a nondescript brick office building that morning. Immediately, he understood why the space appealed to the couple. From the first step into the lobby two weeks ago to negotiate a contract, James was enamored with the warm, retro decor and the friendly introduction to Frank and Alice. 

Their studio had a beautiful mix of 70s vibes and modern simplicity. With two-toned wood paneled walls, rubber mat floors, and a lofted engineer booth, the studio had a carefree clubhouse feel. It reminded him a bit of a fantasy tree house, except it was filled with instruments and sound equipment. 

He’d wandered up to the loft while the others were chatting and making necessary arrangements for the Unhinged Melody’s first proper recording session. From the large window overlooking the open performance area below, James was impressed. By separating the engineer up here, the performers could focus on their music and each other. Obviously, they would take direction from the producers themselves, but it just struck him as a very intimate, authentic way to record.

As he surveyed the room, a short wall of large fist-sized hooks holding cords and cables in a rainbow of colors and varying sizes intrigued him. James considered the set-up, wondering if he could convince the warehouse landlord to install some in the supply closet. It would make cord maintenance far easier. After his last tumble, he was determined to keep their set-up in check. 

The band had muddled through a half-hearted performance each weekend, but without James’s energy on stage, it fell flat. Even though he had mostly healed from his fall, it still twinged from time to time. He’d had to limit his movement a bit more than he’d like.

James really wished Regulus would come to watch them, but he’d given him excuses instead. He had the impression that Regulus was still upset about the band’s rejection, and guilt had nagged him all through the performance, even more than his sore ankle had.

“You know we can see you brooding, right?” Sirius said, bounding up the stairs. “Whoa, this is incredible! Oh shit, they record on tape? This place is sick!”

James nodded absentmindedly as he watched the three groups intermingle below. Not only was the band and Lily on hand for this introduction, but so was Regulus and his team. It was more people than had any right to be in the studio at one time, in his opinion. 

Regulus was currently involved in an animated conversation with Frank, who had jokingly let slip that he was also Regulus’s tattoo artist. Which, of course, led James’s mind down a path he’d rather avoid. He knew first-hand how much touching was involved in tattooing, and exactly where all of Regulus’s tattoos were located on his body.

The snake around his bicep, Leo constellation on his hip, and “bite me” on his knuckles. He’d spent a fair amount of time tracing that constellation with his tongue and admiring the snake’s long fangs. His knuckles were another story, the image he associated with that specific tattoo were of those long, elegant fingers wrapped around his di—

“James!” Sirius slapped his back, then jostled him playfully. “Isn’t this place fucking wild?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, what’s up with you today? I thought you’d be thrilled! You’ve talked about recording a record for ages.” Sirius threw an arm around his shoulders and sighed. “What did Reggie do now?”

James blinked violently, taken aback by the accusatory tone in Sirius’s voice. “Nothing! Nothing wrong anyway. Why?”

“He’s in a good mood, but he hasn’t terrorized anyone yet today, so I figured he’d threatened you again,” Sirius said. 

“No. Well, yes, but only because I was annoying him earlier. That’s not why…it’s just…here.” James unfolded the song sheets that Lily had printed and handed them over. “We wrote a song together, or rather, I threw ideas at him and he made sense of it.”

Sirius’s smile faltered a bit when he glanced over the first page. “This is…a pop ballad.”

“Yeah, but I can sing it, so Remus is off the hook. That’s not the only one, either,” James admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “The night of the party we worked on a couple of them together, but this is the one I wanted to show you and the others first.”

“That is not what it sounded like.”

“Inspiration can come from anything, and your brother is very inspiring.” With a wry chuckle, James turned back to the window to watch Regulus through a big mirror that offered a broader view of the lower level. He’d moved underneath the loft to sit at the Baby Grand Piano, and was idly stroking the glossy black fallboard.

Sirius scrunched his nose in disgust and stabbed the paper with his finger. “‘Take me outta this hell’ is right!”

“Whatever. The reason I picked that one is because I think it explains things better than I can. You know, about what’s wrong with me,” James said reluctantly. 

“That you’re suicidal?” Sirius subtly shifted closer and grabbed James’s sleeve. “Since when?”

James shrugged. “Not really, I just wish I could disappear sometimes. When everything is too…much.”

Sirius leaned his head against James’s shoulder. “Who else is this about? Who is the ‘you’?”

“Initially, it was Regulus,” James said with a shrug, “but it kind of morphed into all of you. I know if I asked any of you for help, you’d be there in a second.”

“You better know that, or I’ll beat you over the head with my love and support, idiot.” 

“Love you too, Sirius.”

Sirius walked around the mixing console and leaned down to examine the hundreds of switches and lights in long rows across the board. “I was right though. It’s complicated, isn’t it?”

“I assume so, that’s why it takes a professional engineer to—”

“Not this, you and Reggie.”

“Oh. Not really.” James focused on the reflection of Regulus in the mirror, following his hands as he performed for a rapt audience of two, Lily and Alice. “He fits, I guess.”

Sirius let out a fake retching sound. “Do not tell me about your sex life with my brother!”

“Fuck off, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not entirely sure how he did it, but he slipped in somehow and made himself comfortable. Now, I don’t want him to leave.”

“Like a stray cat,” Sirius mused. “Yeah, he does that. I warned you that he could be charming when he wants to be. Yet, you fell for it anyway.”

James hesitated, unsure if he should correct Sirius or not. Regulus was a deeply private person, but this was his brother. Surely Sirius knew him better than that, despite their separation.

“He doesn’t turn on the charm with me like he does with them,” James disputed, nodding at the small crowd gathering around the piano. “You saw him tell me off after I hurt my hand, he doesn’t go easy on me or try to win me over. He listens, and hears what I don’t say.”

Sirius was quiet for a long while. He’d shifted away from the sound equipment, but was still keeping his distance from James, as if he needed the space to process his thoughts. Which was fair, really. Regulus had always been a delicate topic for him. 

“You really like him, don’t you? It’s not just physical,” Sirius whispered, his voice carrying in the small room. “Or is it more than that?”

James shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, uneasy with the sudden shift in conversation. Particularly since he didn’t have a definitive answer. He and Regulus had skirted alarmingly close to the edge of more than sex a few times now. 

“I do like him,” he admitted, “and I don’t think I can let him go.”

“Then don’t,” Sirius said sternly. He’d approached so slowly that James hadn’t even noticed until Sirius was directly behind him. 

“I don’t understand how this“ —Sirius circled a hand between James and the window— “works, but it does. He’s more himself lately, and you are too. Just don’t let him scare you away. I know he can be intense.”

James huffed in amusement. “Not likely. I like it when he’s mean. If anyone is going to scare the other away, it will be me scaring him. You know how I am.”

“Yeah, your mum says you ‘move fast and break things,’” Sirius teased. “She’s not wrong.”

A comfortable silence fell as they stood side by side in the loft and just took in the gravity of this moment, both as a personal break-through and a professional leap forward. It was surreal, honestly. James believed wholeheartedly in his band, and he’d fought hard to keep them together, but this was a dream come true. It was a fantasy that he’d clung to with both hands for years as they cycled through shitty pubs and uni parties. 

I don’t deserve this. I haven’t earned it.

“I knew you’d get us here, eventually,” Sirius said suddenly.

“Me? This is all you and Pete,” James argued, shaking his head. “Plus, Remus now too, of course. I meant what I said at the party, bringing Regulus on board was the only way we’d get here, and you two knew it. You ignored my doubts and look where we are!”

Sirius scoffed, “You think this was all Reggie? That your raw sex appeal and brilliant stage presence had nothing to do with it? Are you mad? You’re the one who compels fan loyalty, James. It’s you they come to see.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“No, it isn’t,” Remus said, wandering into the loft behind them. “He’s right. You impressed the hell out of me at our first meeting, James, and that’s why I joined the band. You’re a natural-born leader, whether you like it or not.”

Peter followed him, beaming. “That’s right! You’re the one the fans ask after! Sirius and I field more questions about you than anyone else in the band.”

That can’t be true. They’re just trying to make me feel better. 

Sirius shoved James a little harder than was necessary, then pointed at him. “Stop playing martyr, and act like the leader we know you are. We committed to this band knowing exactly what we were getting into because we trusted you, and we still do. Right?”

Peter and Remus nodded avidly. 

“Now, this is what our leader has been hiding from us,” Sirius said, aiming a half-hearted glare at him as he handed off the sheet music. “Can you believe this shit?”

Peter frowned as he skimmed the pages. “Is this real? You wrote this? I thought you said your songs were rubbish. This is…damn, James. This is good.”

“Reggie helped him,” Sirius added with a grimace. “Don’t ask how, you don’t want to know.”

“Understood.” Remus’s brows furrowed, and he leaned closer to read over Peter’s shoulder. “I had no idea you were carrying all of that around in your head, James.”

“And, you were keeping it to yourself.” Peter was the only one who didn’t sound surprised. He was far more observant than anyone gave him credit for. “Why?”

Before James could answer, Lily did for him, eyeing the four of them with amusement from the doorway. “Because he’s a knob.”

“Thanks for that.” James flipped her off, a gesture which she returned with a grin.

“Did you know about this?” Remus asked, taking the sheet music and flapping it at her. “That it was this far gone?”

Lily flipped her auburn plait over her shoulder and shrugged. “Of course, I noticed James was spiraling before he did. Well, before he’d admit it, anyway.”

“We all knew he was down, right?” Peter replied, nodding along with the others. “We didn’t realize how far down.”

James stared at each of them in turn, astonished. “It wasn’t that obvious, was it?”

They all answered at the same time with varying degrees of sarcasm. “Definitely.” “A bit.” “Fuck yes.” “Painfully.” “Mm-hmm.”

“Right, so now that you’re all sorted,” Lily said, clapping her hands to get their attention. “Alice wants to run a sound check, and have a play with your sound, so go set up downstairs.”

Sirius offered a mock military salute, then half-dragged Remus down the stairs with Peter on their heels. James turned to follow, but Lily stopped him.

“It’s going well with Regulus, I take it? If you’re writing songs together and grossing out Sirius with PDA?”

“You could say that.”

He peered down the side of the stairs to find that unflinching stare already locked on him. James smirked, then waved. Regulus flushed and looked away, feigning interest in the sheet music Remus was handing to him. A song that he already knew by heart, since Regulus was the one who’d arranged it.

“Would you say that?” Lily pressed, stepping forward to loop an arm through his. “Would he?” 

“I think so. We work well together.” James patted her hand. He was relieved that they were slowly finding their way back to being friends again. For real, this time, not in name only. “What do you think? Will I fuck this up too?”

Lily swatted his shoulder. “You better not, git. He’s won over most of the band, in one way or another. Even Remus likes him, and he’s hard to impress. Regulus is wickedly talented though. If you actually want my opinion…”

James had to stuff his pride so far down his own throat that he nearly choked on it, but he managed to spit out an affirmative noise past the guilt. This wasn’t his band anymore, Sirius had made that abundantly clear, and worse, he was right. They were all in it together, Lily included. Why does she put up with me?

“You may not see it, but you pull him out of that ‘performer’ mode with your reckless, impulsive personality. He has to drop the act just to keep up. You challenge each other, in a surprisingly healthy way, considering how combative you both are. He holds you accountable, demands your honesty, and convinces you to take a breath every now and again.” Lily hugged his bicep and smiled to herself. “I think you balance each other beautifully, Jamie.”

“Really? All of that?”

Lily sighed, the heavy breath of one truly exhausted with his shit. He couldn’t blame her, James knew he’d been a nightmare the last few months and annoyed her even when they were dating. It was lucky she had a high tolerance for idiots.

“Yes. All of that.”

“Well, you’re the expert,” he teased, leading her down the stairs. When she rolled her eyes, he added, “Since you’re the only one of us that locked down a partner, that definitely makes you a love expert.”

“Twat.”

James grinned, then bowed slightly at the waist before turning on his heel to find Regulus. He’d left the piano and was squirreled into a corner with Alice while Frank called out directions to the other band members. A flare of jealousy caught him off-guard, and he quickly tamped it out. Don’t be stupid. He’s not mine. I have to share his attention.

Regulus glanced up and met his gaze, studying him intently as if he’d heard his thoughts. With a dark eyebrow raised, his silent question prodded at James insistently for an answer. James nodded. Yeah, I’m fine. Promise.

“All right ladies and gents, let’s settle in,” Alice announced. “Today, I want to lay down some sample tracks. Perhaps even throw together a demo for you to offer your fans and help get your name out there. Then, we will start recording for the album. How does that sound?”

Everyone made approving noises and quickly took up their positions at their instruments. Remus handed James his guitar and nudged him closer to the mic when he got distracted by Regulus striding across the room. It really was unfair that he was so disturbingly pretty. 

“And if the album is received well,” Lily added, pausing for dramatic effect, “perhaps we can swing a proper concert to present Unhinged Melody to the UK, or at least greater London.”

Remus snorted a laugh. “You’re a dreamer, Lils, that’s why I like you.”

“Think bigger!” Alice said with a grin. “If we can count on Regulus’s marketing team, maybe even a tour!”

“We’re in,” Dorcas assured her. She stood off to the left, chatting up a very familiar, heavily tattooed woman. He hadn’t seen Marlene in several months, not since he’d gotten the sun tattoo around his navel on a dare. Which Regulus seems to like.

Lily had joined Pandora in monitoring the chaos from behind the piano. Pandora, as usual, had her attention divided equally between Regulus and the tablet that seemed to be permanently affixed to her hand. Regulus had returned to the Baby Grand and sat with his legs folded primly while listening to Pandora whisper in his ear. She has his ear, but his eyes are on me, where they belong.

The sound check and initial recording session was slow-going at first while the band figured out what Alice wanted, and how things worked around the studio. Peter was the first to sort out what was expected of him, and was allowed to step into a sound booth for individual recording with Alice and Regulus. Needless to say, that privilege only exacerbated tensions in the main studio. Sirius and Remus were snapping at each other again, and James was distracted. 

He wanted to talk to Regulus, or at least stand close enough to him to calm his own anxiety, but there was never a good time. Individual recording went faster, thankfully. Once they’d laid a decent set of tracks for the demo, including two of Regulus’s songs and three covers, it was evening. 

“Pub night to celebrate?” Sirius suggested, packing up the studio’s Ludwig drum kit. It had a dry, punchy sound to it that had both thrilled Sirius and annoyed Remus. 

“Yes!” Peter agreed immediately. “I miss The Black Dog.”

Remus nodded vaguely, but waited until James agreed to voice his assent. Automatically, James turned to Regulus expectantly. “Pub night?”

Regulus shook his head curtly, then forced a smile. It nearly cracked around the edges with the tension behind it. “No, I’ll join next time.”

“What? Why?” James spluttered, abandoning the cords he was cleaning up. “Would you rather come back to mine? I don’t have to go out.”

“This should be a night for the band. You all worked hard for this,” Regulus said firmly. “I would be in the way, and draw unnecessary attention, just like last time.”

The reminder of their last pub night, and the disaster that James made of it, landed like a gut punch. He started to apologize, but Regulus waved him off and left with Pandora. The moment still sat heavy and aching in his belly when they reached The Black Dog. James couldn’t help but wish he’d kept his mouth shut that night, and ended up spending most of the evening wallowing in guilt. 

A hollow crater had formed in his chest throughout the day, and James refused to acknowledge it, though it felt like it was visible to everyone around him. While they did draw a few curious looks at the pub, not much more than usual. The only people who approached them asked about Regulus, which just made him feel worse.

James tried to logic his feelings out between drinks, but was torn between the idea of Regulus joining the band or keeping him all to himself. It was absurd to think that he could have either, let alone both, so he drowned the logical voice in his head with beer. By the end of the night, all he could think about was Regulus. Regulus’s hands, mouth, and eyes. Regulus’s smooth voice when he sang “Fallin’” and “Middle of the Night” especially for him. I know he wants me and the band too. Why can’t we have it all?

“You’re killing the mood, James,” Remus chided, elbowing his side. “What are you brooding about?”

James was startled violently out of his reverie, and promptly dumped the remainder of his drink into his lap. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Perhaps it's time to cut you off,” Peter said. He was watching James too closely again, which could only lead to one of those conversations with questions that James wasn’t prepared to answer.

“I know that look.” Sirius slouched into the booth and scowled. He was every bit as tipsy as James, and in a foul mood. “He’s hung up on Reggie refusing to come out tonight. Let it go, mate.”

Let it go? Just tell me to hold my breath, or stop eating and drinking, if you want me to die!

“You’re not going to die,” Remus said, chuckling. 

A strange noise escaped James as he jerked back, somewhere between a hiccup and burp. “Wait, did I say that out loud?”

“Unfortunately,” Sirius grumbled, downing his drink. 

Peter ignored him and leaned forward on his elbows. “So, James, what were you thinking about? Was it Regulus?”

“Yeah. I feel like s-shit because he didn’t feel welcome to come out with us, since I fucked it up last time. Plus, plus! He’d be a better lead singer for the band.” Words spilled out of his mouth without a filter, baffling him with their honesty. James turned toward Sirius and pointed at his face. “He wants to perform, Sirius! D-Did you see him playing at the studio? Reg-Regulus should join the band, ‘cause he’s really bloody good, but then I’d have to share him…and I don’t wanna.”

Sirius lurched forward and batted James’s hand away. “No! We already decided you were the leader!”

Welp, I may be drunker than I thought I was. 

“Oh, wow,” Remus said, whistling quietly. “Let’s talk about something else.”

As Sirius began ranting about some old 70s band that fell apart because of “bad chemistry,” James pulled out his phone and tapped on the text messaging icon. He’d tried to chat with Regulus in the past, but for some reason, Regulus rarely answered. Now though, his text had an immediate response. 

James: miss u regguls
Regulus: Are you okay? 
James: no cos i miss u
Regulus: Where are you?
James: black doggo cours
Regulus: Stay put. I’m on my way.

“Oh good! Regulus is coming!” James announced, showing his screen to Peter. “See, I fixed it. He’s in the band too I say, songwritering and all…”

“Did you just say songwritering?” Peter burst out laughing, eyes bright. “It’s all right by me, mate, you already had my vote.”

Remus glanced between James and Sirius, then shrugged. “The only reason I said ‘no’ was because I could tell you wanted to, James. Figured it would be too awkward for you to reject him, so I did it for you.”

“Awfully charitable of you,” Sirius sneered. “I still say it’s foolish to mix blood and water!”

“First of all, gross,” Peter said, flicking Sirius’s hand. “Second of all, you were happy to take advantage of Regulus’s fame a month ago. What changed?”

“That’s what I said!” James slammed his fist on the table, then stared at it, startled by the sound. Not only had the table rattled all the others’ glasses, but it had let out a loud smack instead of the dull thud he was expecting. “Is this a f-fake wood table?”

Remus peered underneath it. “Yep, it’s plastic. Good eye.”

“Good fist!” James corrected. 

The conversation descended into bawdy jokes and cackles of laughter that seemed to make rounds through the four of them. When one would pull himself together, another would pick up the giggle bug and carry it along. James was gasping for air by the time Regulus magically appeared at the end of the table. He had a horrified look on his all too pretty face.

“Reg-gulus!” James hiccuped half-way through his name.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” Regulus demanded sharply. “Are all of you pissed? Or did you just let him bathe himself in beer?”

Sirius shook his head, then wobbled a bit. “Not drunk, he spilled it.”

“Not so sure about that, ac-actually,” James said, hiccuping loudly. “I lost track after five…or was it six?”

Remus giggled, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oops.”

Regulus glared at each of them in turn. “You were supposed to ‘celebrate,’ not get wasted! Can you four not be left unsupervised?”

“Uh-oh, Reggie’s angry,” Sirius whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. “Be quiet or he’ll poke you.”

James swiveled in his seat and grabbed Regulus’s waist, pausing for a moment to wait for his brain to stop sloshing around in his head. “Don’t leave me ag-gain. I wanna g-go with you.”

With a heavy sigh, Regulus tucked James’s face into the warm, welcoming comfort of his jumper, and James nuzzled his belly. “Fine, I’m taking James home. Can any of you drive right now?” 

“Uh…nope, don’t think so,” Peter said, trying to stand up, “but w-we can ride back together. Remus can crash w-with Sirius…w-where did he go?”

“Someone grab my idiot brother,” Regulus ordered. He pulled James to his feet, then propped his arm over his shoulders. “I’m not carrying the rest of you. Whoever makes it to the curb by the time I get there can catch a ride home.”

James grinned, delighted to find Regulus’s neck within reach. “That’s nice of you.”

“I didn’t say they were riding home with us,” Regulus huffed, hugging James around the waist and dragging him toward the door. “I’m not that nice.”

Still pretty though, and he smells so good.