When the Sun and Stars Unite (Jegulus Oneshots)

Lead Me Into the Light (Part 1/2)

"Wh– well– why–" James stammered, attempting to get his bearings, because if he didn't, and he let Regulus tell him 'kiss me' one more time, his heart would probably give out. "Why don't you get Sirius to help?"

Regulus narrowed his eyes. "Because Sirius would just knock his teeth out," he said as though it were obvious.

"Yes," James hissed, "and he'll knock my teeth out if I kiss his little brother."

"You can take a hit, Potter, I've seen you on the quidditch pitch," Regulus waved him off, and James groaned, leaning away from him.

"Oh, yeah, great, so I'm the sacrifice," he sighed.

"Precisely," Regulus stepped right into his space, and James felt his chest go a little hot.

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Or, Regulus asks James for a favor to get his ex off of his back, and James makes bad choices.

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"Pretend you're talking to me," Regulus said, and James was startled out of his thoughts to find fingers tugging insistently at his wrist. He looked up at Regulus, and then down at his hand, and then up again.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Pretend you're talking to me," Regulus hissed, letting go of James' arm.

If James wasn't a little drunk, he might have been a bit intimidated by the intensity in his expression– but because he was a little drunk, he found it really rather endearing. He smiled a bit lopsidedly.

"Counterproposal," James drawled, waving his cup in one hand. "I could just actually talk to you."

"Rejected," Regulus muttered. He leaned against the wall to his right, casting a glance over his shoulder.

"Avoiding someone?" James asked. Regulus scowled at him.

"None of your business."

James laughed and took a sip of his drink– whoever had come up with the incredible combination of firewhiskey and butterbeer deserved incredible compensation. "Just trying to make conversation."

"Well, don't," Regulus replied coldly.

"Right," James scoffed. He looked around the room, trying to figure out exactly who it was Regulus was obviously evading, but it was truly packed. Ravenclaws always knew how to throw a good party.

James had a theory it was because they were overcompensating for how nerdy they were, a contrarian stance to the reputation– like, we're not pretentious, see? Watch this. And then they'd throw a rave so out of control it had the ghosts talking about it the next day. Someone usually wound up levitated up to hang from the skylight. James had woken up on the stairs once or twice.

So now, as expected, the music was loud and then students were laughing and trays of drinks were enchanted to make their rounds to anyone who seemed like they weren't having enough fun, which explained why there was one hovering anxiously behind Regulus at the moment. Regulus batted it away, annoyed.

He'd cornered James at a rather good time, actually– not that there was a bad time for Regulus to corner James... he wished he'd do it more often, frankly– because James was taking a brief break from the chaos of it all to tuck himself away and people watch, which was sometimes just as interesting as being in the heart of it. It was only from dimly lit corners that you could learn who was snogging who, or who was aiming to snog who, or who was avoiding who, the last of which was a category Regulus fit into.