KNOWING ME KNOWING YOU ⇒ jegulus one shots

A FATHER, A HUSBAND, AND A CAT OWNER

"What's this about, Regulus, son?" Fleamont Potter eyes Regulus, half endeared, half suspicious. He takes a sip of his whiskey, his toasted sandwich untouched. "Surely you didn't ask me to come to lunch at my favourite pub for no reason then, eh? What's the occasion?"

Regulus chuckles, nervously. "Well, I like spending time with you, so might as well," He offers sheepishly.

"Regulus," Fleamont clears his throat. "You're stalling, my boy," He remarks. "And, for the record, I enjoy your company also," He adds with a soft smile. A smile so close to James'.

Regulus smiles. "I appreciate that," He mumbles softly. He enjoys spending time with his boyfriend's parents more than anything. Despite their age, their life experience, their privilege and wealth; Regulus can not believe that they are just people, just regular parents. He is frequently astonished by their humbleness, their generosity, and their ability to accept Regulus and his relationship with their son.

Regulus had initially been hesitant to ever meet James' parents, as overdramatic and hyperbolic that hesitation may have ever seemed. He had grown up in a home with no nurture, no parental affection. It was strange, to suddenly be able to see, with his own two eyes, the way in which a parent could love their child; so effortless, so unconditionally, like Fleamont and Euphemia adored their James.

Regulus and Sirius were war veterans, they had to give and give and give to receive the slimmest of attention. Regulus had to preform and become the perfect son, fit the mold, become the perfect boy that Sirius apparently was not.

To see how James' parents loved him, no matter what, no matter if his actions pleaded them or not, had outrightly startled Regulus in the beginning. It had seemed unnatural to him. And so, began his spiralling pondering that confirmed perhaps his childhood was the unnatural occurrence.

"So, my boy?" Fleamont raises his eyebrow. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He questions. "Not that I don't love when we get to spend some time together, but you've got a nervous sweat, son," Fleamont observes with a faint, soft chuckle. "I can see it from a mile away,"

Regulus swallows. "Um, well," He trails. "I...I'd like to ask for James' hand in marriage," He speaks awkwardly.

Fleamont appears surprised, but only barely. "You'd like to ask me if you can marry James?"

Regulus nods. "I...yes?" He offers. "I...well, I wanted to do this the right way," He pauses, clearing his throat. "James is pregnant." He says quickly. "I...I got James pregnant-"

"Regulus, son, I would probably require resuscitation if you hadn't been the one to get my son pregnant,"

Regulus blinks. "And...and you're alright with that fact?" He winches.

Fleamont shrugs, smiling, a soft twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe not if James were seventeen and clueless, but he's twenty four and getting by quite nicely; so I'm rather pleased for you both. Congratulations," He beams. "I'm sure that you will make an excellent father, Regulus," He pauses. "And husband,"

Regulus bites his lip. "That's the thing," He pauses. "I...I don't know that I will, or if I'm cut out for fatherhood; but I'll try to be," He says. He shakes his head, quickly. "Your blessing then? We...we have it?"

"My boy, you needn't have ever asked for it," Fleamont speaks. "And I think that you know that, so I'm quite confused, son. You didn't have to ask me at all,"

Regulus swallows, reaching for his gin. "I...I figured as much," He offers weakly. "When we found out, James didn't take the news very well,"

"How so? James loves children, he's very good with that little niece of yours,"